#depression times call for depression posting

[loveinhawkins]

the first in a history of removals

ao3 Written for @steddiemicrofic June 2024 prompt, “stuff,” 483 words. Rated G, Post-Canon, Pre/Developing Relationship, Steve Harrington Backstory, cw: absent parents, implied depression in a parent

The house is quiet when Steve gets back, not in a too quiet way, exactly, not in the way that makes Steve’s hair stand on end.

But there’s an imperceptible shift in the air, like summer waning, on the cusp of fall—enough for him to know that something’s changed in the time it took to give Robin a ride home.

Eddie’s in the living room, kneeling near the TV; he’s wearing an old off-white t-shirt of Steve’s, one that’s grown soft and faded with time. The sight would normally make Steve smile: how their spaces are blurring together; how there’s a new toothbrush resting on the bathroom sink that, by silent agreement, belongs to Eddie.

But he spots the change immediately: the cabinet by the TV has been opened. Eddie’s holding a photograph delicately by the corners; he turns when he notices Steve’s in the room, keeps glancing down so his thumb doesn’t smudge the picture.

“Your mom called,” he says softly.

The words sound just like how he’s holding the photograph. Careful.

“Oh,” Steve says.

He can’t stop the wave of sadness in his voice—that he wasn’t there, that he missed her. He never knows when the next phone call will come.

But he does know that Eddie would’ve been kind.

“Was she, um. Was she okay?”

“Yeah, she—” Eddie stops, a tiny crease in between his eyes. “I think so. She—she just wanted me to check…” With his free hand, he indicates the open cabinet, “I wouldn’t have—it’s just, she asked me to—”

“I know,” Steve says. “Eddie, it’s fine, I’m—I’m glad you picked up.”

He sits down, and Eddie hands the photograph over so gently that Steve has to look away. His eyes catch on the cabinet shelves, the old photo albums, and he laughs quietly, “I can’t believe she kept all this stuff,” because that’s easier than trying to explain the rest of it.

When she calls on bad nights, her voice trembles with the strain of sounding upbeat—like how people try to disguise drunkenness, their over-enunciation only giving them away. More than once, Steve has wanted to say I know you’re not sleeping, because they are similar in that regard; sometimes the louder they are, the worse it is.

“How old were you?” Eddie asks.

Steve glances down. He doesn’t look at the picture directly, but he sees enough. The crimson blur of fall leaves. His mom pushing him on the tire swing.

“Ten,” he says. Then, suddenly, “That house isn’t there anymore.”

“Okay,” Eddie says kindly. He pauses. “Steve. You know you can… you can tell me anything.”

Steve nods. Murmurs, “Not tonight.”

“No,” Eddie agrees. “Wanna sleep?”

Steve nods again.

Eddie leans over, kisses his forehead; it’s the closest they’ve come so far, and all Steve can think is that Eddie must’ve brushed his teeth already, because his breath smells faintly like mint.

Smells like home.

#the soft ache of the past #talking around things #pre steddie #steve and his mom #steve harrington’s mom #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjune #steve harrington fic #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[mononijikayu]

“all that i am, when i’m around you” — gojo satoru.

Satoru blushes at the fact that he was so bold to do that. He groaned to himself, his hands on his head. He purses his lips. But it felt good. It felt good to make you flustered. It felt good to make you feel a deep sense of contentment, just being with you. Just being silly around you. These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: all that i am by mirdjo

NOTE: i was gone for a while and i still haven't written, sorry about that. i recently lost my dog and i really couldn't do anything. but today is the jjk chapter drop, so i decided to write something. this was comforting to write, because gojo satoru is a comfort. i'm doing a bit better now. we will be back on schedule soon enough!!! i hope you enjoy this little drable!!! i love you!!! <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS TAKING TIME TO ADJUST TO BEING MARRIED. But being married to you wasn’t so bad, or at least that’s what Gojo Satoru thinks. He looks at you as you hum that tune from the radio — preparing breakfast for both of you and the kids.

He had just gotten home from a mission, but you were waiting for him to come home. That was new for him. That someone was up all night worrying about him. Usually, he and Suguru went on missions together. But there wasn’t anyone waiting for him to come back, to greet him happily like you did. 

Everything has been a whirlwind of changes and emotions. One that he hadn’t expected about this. Surprisingly, you both got along well as a married couple. You didn’t act romantically, of course. There’s…there’s none of that yet. But you both cared for each other a lot, acted like a married couple would. Satoru was surprised. It was like everything fit into place now. 

The dynamic between you had shifted in subtle yet significant ways, reshaping the very foundation of your relationship. These past few months had been a period of profound transformation for both of you, discovering what could be between you now.

He was sure that slowly but surely, it was still sinking in — you took his name, you were in his house, you wore his ring. You were more in his and your life now. You were more part of his life now than ever before. You weren’t his senpai anymore, and he wasn’t your kouhai either. You were now his wife and he was your husband.

For a while, Gojo Satoru found himself in an unfamiliar territory, uncertain of what to call you. It wasn't just a matter of addressing you by your name; it was about finding the right words to encapsulate the depth of your relationship. In the past, you were his senpai, the one he looked up to with admiration and respect. Then, you became his partner, someone he leaned on for support and guidance. But now, as husband and wife, the dynamics had shifted in ways he hadn't anticipated.

He hesitated to simply call you by your first name, as if it didn't quite capture the magnitude of your connection. You were still very much not in love. It was too hard to be casual with you. It wasn’t like it was a joke like he did when he was still your kouhai. It was real now. It was very much something that was a gap he had to think about for a long while. 

Calling you "wife" felt too formal, too distant for the woman who shared his hopes, dreams, and fears. It may have been an arranged marriage, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t an instigator. He was a willing participant, because he was fond of you. He wasn’t going to be calling you that.

Using "dear" sounded too old-fashioned, something his and your mother called your own fathers when they first married years and years ago. And "love" seemed too casual for the depth of emotion he felt for you. He wasn’t in love with you, yet. One day, maybe. But until then, he had to be able to give a name for you.

One day, Satoru approached you with a hesitant expression, his usual confidence tinged with uncertainty. "Hey, um... I've been thinking," he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

You looked up from your book, sensing his unease. "What's on your mind, Satoru?"

He shifted nervously, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "It's about... what to call you, now… now that you aren’t my senpai," he admitted, his cheeks tinted with a faint blush. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "It's just... I know this is really different. But it’s not easy to just call you by your name or just make up one. So I wanted to ask you about what you’re comfortable with."

You watched him with a soft smile, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his worries. "Satoru, you don’t really have to ask me. We’re married now," you reassured him, your voice gentle and reassuring.

But he couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty, the weight of tradition and habit still lingering in his mind. "I know, I know," he murmured, his gaze shifting to the ground. "But it's just... I want to make sure I'm doing this right. I want it to feel... natural."

Your heart softened at his vulnerability, your own affection for him swelling within your chest. "Satoru, there's no right or wrong way to do this," you said, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "We're in this together, remember? It's okay to feel unsure sometimes. But just know that you can call me whatever feels comfortable to you."

He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "Anything?"

You nodded, a warm smile playing on your lips. "Anything."

With a sigh of relief, Satoru felt the weight of uncertainty lift from his shoulders. "Okay then," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "I think... I think I'll stick with trying to…trying to get used to your name. For now. If that's alright with you."

Your smile widened, a surge of warmth flooding your heart. "It's more than alright, Satoru." you replied, your voice filled with love and understanding. 

He liked the way you said his name.

But he can tell, slowly but surely.

You liked how he said yours too.

In that time, as Satoru endeavored to commit your name to memory as effortlessly as breathing, he found himself grappling with the concept of you being an intrinsic part of his home. The idea of you being his home. It was a notion that seemed foreign at first, given his long-standing familiarity with solitude and transience.

From a young age, Satoru had grown accustomed to living in isolation, even within the vast expanse of the Gojo clan manor. As the heir to the Gojo clan, he had resided in his own wing of the estate, separated from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But even within his private quarters, he never lingered in one room for long. 

The ever-present threat of assassination, a constant worry for his mother following the fate of his father, prompted her to frequently alter the layout and appearance of his living space. Rooms were rearranged, furnishings were swapped out, and on particularly paranoid days, Satoru found himself relocated to entirely different chambers. As a result, he never had the opportunity to truly imprint the features of any particular room in his memory.

Even during his time in the Jujutsu High dormitories, Satoru had maintained a sense of detachment from his surroundings. Though he had his own room, he seldom spent enough time there to form any meaningful connection to it.

With missions keeping him and Suguru occupied for days on end, and the few precious hours of rest often spent in Suguru's company, Satoru's dorm room remained as pristine and impersonal as the day he first set foot in it. Like the Gojo manor, it was a space devoid of personal significance, a transient waypoint in his journey through life.

It wasn't until he met Suguru and Shoko, and ultimately you, that Satoru began to understand the true meaning of belonging. Through your presence, he discovered a sense of stability and security that had eluded him for so long.

With you, he found a home—a place where he could be himself without fear or reservation, where memories were made and cherished, and where the bonds of love and friendship flourished. And as he reflected on the journey that had brought him to this moment, Satoru realized that he had finally found something worth remembering, something worth holding onto with all his heart.

Satoru often found himself lost in thought, reflecting on how different things were now. He loved how peaceful it had been just being around you. Even the little mundane details brought a sense of joy he hadn't anticipated.

Living together meant he saw you more than ever before, and since you weren’t going on missions nowadays, he found himself awakened to each and every day beside you, learning all these bright new facets of your personalities to light.

He noticed how you scrunch your nose when you were thinking too hard, a cute quirk that made him smile. Your bright eyes narrowed often when you focused on things, a look of intense concentration that made you look both serious and endearing.

You made a funny face when you realized something he had pointed out, a mix of surprise and amusement that was always delightful to witness. And then there was the way you smiled into your cup of coffee if it tasted good, a small but genuine expression of contentment that made his heart swell.

One morning, as he watched you prepare breakfast, he couldn’t help but just stare. You had a peculiar way of eating your breakfast. You put jam on your bread, humming quietly, and add your eggs, bacon, and the other side of the bread.  You looked so happy to eat it, grinning at how delicious it tastes for you.

The kids were already out for the day, and they would be here all day because they’re in school and there were still their after school activities. In truth, Satoru was too exhausted to get up from the bed, he did back to back missions after all. But you kept urging him to get up and eat breakfast with you. His stomach would hurt if he didn’t tell him. He can shower and sleep after.

He didn’t know if he was just too tired or if he was just out of his mind. But he felt warm inside. Just watching you eat happily. That you would make him this delicious meal. That you would push him to take care of himself. That you would take care of him. 

"You know, you have these little habits that are just... adorable." 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "All of a sudden?”

“Why not? I think it’s true.”

“Oh really? How so?"

He leaned against his own chair, a playful grin on his face. "Y’know, I don’t think you know this but you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking too hard. Or how your eyes narrow when you’re focused. And that face you make when you realize something new—it’s priceless. Just know, you ate that sandwich and started nodding because you think it’s delicious.”

You looked at him flustered, eyes fluttering. "I didn’t know you paid so much attention to me, Satoru. That’s….so detailed.”

"How could I not?" he replied, leaning forward toward you. "I see you everyday. It was meant to be me learning something new about you every day.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you turned back to the stove, stirring the eggs. "You’re making me self-conscious now."

"Don’t be." he said softly, smiling at you gently. "I love these little things about you. They make you... you. And I like that, y’know?”

You leaned back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "And what about you, Satoru? What little things do you have that I should be noticing?"

He chuckled at you, standing up and walking towards you. He pats your head, your face turning redder. "I’m not sure. Maybe you’ll have to pay more attention and find out."

"......I will." you promised, turning your head slightly to meet his eyes. You were too shy now. His grin grew wider. "I’ll make it my mission to do well for you."

He smiled, his lips brushing against your cheek. "I look forward to it."

“S-satoru, you can’t just do that!” 

He laughed. “Love you too!”

“T-that….. Satoru! You're a pain in the ass!"

"But I'm your pain in the ass!"

Satoru blushes at the fact that he was so bold to do that. He groaned to himself, his hands on his head. He purses his lips. But it felt good. It felt good to make you flustered. It felt good to make you feel a deep sense of contentment, just being with you. Just being silly around you.

These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you. 

In those moments, he realized that being married to you was more than he had ever expected. It was about finding joy in the mundane, discovering new facets of each other every day, and building a life together that was filled with love, laughter, and understanding. There were moments of tender domesticity that felt almost surreal—sharing morning coffee, debating over grocery lists, and falling into a routine that was uniquely yours.

As Satoru sat at the kitchen table, you poured him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Here you go, Satoru." you said, sliding the mug across the table towards him. "Time for you to join the coffee club."

He eyed the dark liquid with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "I'm not sure about this," he admitted, reaching out to tentatively lift the mug to his lips.

"You won't know until you try, y’know?" you teased, nudging him gently. “Go on! One sip!”

As Satoru tentatively raised the cup to his lips, anticipation mingled with apprehension. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted up to meet his nose, promising a bold and robust flavor experience. But as the bitter liquid touched his tongue, his features contorted into a grimace of pure disbelief. It was as if he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, his taste buds recoiling in shock at the unexpected assault.

The sight of Satoru's reaction was too much for Megumi to handle. From his position on the sidelines, he burst into laughter, unable to contain his amusement at his friend's expense. His laughter echoed through the kitchen, a joyful symphony of mirth that filled the room with infectious energy.

Despite the discomfort of the bitter taste lingering on his palate, Satoru couldn't help but chuckle along with Megumi's infectious laughter. There was something undeniably humorous about the situation, and he found himself unable to suppress a smile even as he struggled to come to terms with the unfamiliar flavor of the coffee.

Tsumiki, the epitome of kindness and compassion, didn't hesitate for a moment as she witnessed Satoru's struggle with the bitter coffee. With a swift and determined motion, she sprang into action, her nurturing instincts kicking into high gear.

"Here, let me help, Satoru–san!" she exclaimed, her voice gentle but firm as she reached for the container of sugar and the carton of cream nestled in the fridge. With practiced efficiency, she poured a generous spoonful of sugar into the mug, followed by a liberal splash of cream, expertly balancing the flavors to create a more palatable concoction.

As she stirred the sugar and cream into the coffee, a look of focused concentration settled on her features. It was clear that she took her role as caretaker seriously, determined to ease Satoru's discomfort and ensure his enjoyment of the beverage.

With a final stir, Tsumiki presented the transformed coffee to Satoru with a warm smile, her eyes shining with genuine concern and compassion. "Here you go, Satoru–san," she said softly, offering him the mug. "I hope this makes it more to your liking."

Satoru accepted the mug with gratitude, his heart warmed by Tsumiki's kindness and thoughtfulness. As he took a cautious sip of the now sweetened and cream-enriched coffee, he found himself pleasantly surprised by the transformation. The bitter edge had been softened, replaced by a creamy sweetness that danced across his taste buds with newfound delight.

"Thank you, Tsumiki," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're a lifesaver."

Tsumiki's smile widened at his words, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "It's my pleasure, Satoru–san," she replied, her gaze warm and earnest. "I'm always here to help."

He looks at you. “This is my only cup of coffee for the rest of my life.”

You chuckled at Satoru's expression, reaching out to pat his hand sympathetically. "Looks like coffee isn't for everyone," you said, trying to stifle your laughter.

Satoru nodded in agreement, his lips still puckered from the bitter taste. "I think I'll stick to hot cocoa." he said, setting the mug aside with a grimace. “This is awful!”

You laughed. “Well, I’ll make you good sweet ones, ‘toru.”

You took care of him in ways that went beyond what he had ever imagined. It was in the little things: the way you left notes for him to find, the meals you cooked together, the quiet support you offered without needing to be asked. It made him feel like a bashful boy all over again, experiencing a kind of affection and attention that was both exhilarating and humbling.

Being married, being husband and wife — this is not easy. His own mother was surprised that someone as young as him would consider it now. It was true that he had uncles that could marry you. Save you from the Zenin, the name was enough. But Satoru couldn’t admit to you then when you asked him that it was because you were you. You were all he had, now that Suguru had left him. And he couldn’t lose you too. He didn’t want to.

Satoru sat across from his mother, the weight of her words heavy in the air. "You're too young to be thinking about marriage, Satoru." she said, her tone tinged with concern. "You have your whole life ahead of you. There's no need to rush into anything."

He bit his lip, feeling the weight of her words like a physical blow. "I know, Mother." he replied, his voice strained with emotion. "But it's not that simple."

His mother raised an eyebrow, her expression questioning. "What do you mean?"

Satoru hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "I... I can't just leave her unprotected. Not when the Zenin is planning to marry her to Naoya….he’s gonna hurt her." he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "She needs someone to look after her, to keep her safe."

His mother's eyes softened with understanding as she reached out to lay a comforting hand on his arm. "Satoru, you don't have to bear that burden alone," she said gently. "You have uncles who would gladly take on that responsibility. Maybe even your cousins. You don't have to sacrifice your own happiness for hers."

But Satoru shook his head, determination shining in his cerulean eyes. "It has to be me, Mother," he insisted. "I can't let anyone else take that responsibility. I have to be the one to marry her, to care for her. No one….”

His mother sighed, realizing the depth of his conviction. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself too, Satoru," she said, her voice tinged with concern. "Marriage is a partnership, and you can't neglect your own well-being in the process."

Satoru nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I promise, Mother," he said, a steely determination in his voice. "I'll take care of her, and I'll take care of myself. We'll make it work together. I know we will."

And as he left his mother's side, the weight of her words still echoing in his mind, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of determination settle in his heart. He would do whatever it took to keep you safe and happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness in the process. Because for him, there was no greater priority than ensuring your well-being, no matter the cost.

Because he knew that you would take care of him.

And you would make sure he would be safe too.

You were just that kind of person to Gojo Satoru.

As Satoru sat on the couch, watching you move about the room, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. What would the future look like for the two of you? The thought filled him with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. There was so much more beyond the friendship that had been the bedrock of your relationship.

He imagined a future filled with shared dreams and challenges, laughter and tears, triumphs and setbacks. He saw you both growing together, learning from each other, and building a life that was rich and full. The thought of children crossed his mind—a family that was an extension of the love you shared.

Satoru smiled to himself, feeling a warmth spread through him. This was just the beginning, a new adventure that you were embarking on together. And whatever the future held, he knew that with you by his side, it would be extraordinary.

"Hey, you should start pouring your hot cocoa, Satoru," you told him, pointing the spatula towards the boiling pot. "It’ll get too soggy if you let it overboil!"

"Coming, coming," he mumbled, snapping back to reality as he stood up from the couch.

He moved to the stove, reaching for the pot of cocoa. As he poured the steaming liquid into his mug, he couldn’t help but smile at how natural this all felt. You, bustling around the kitchen, humming softly; him, doing his part to help with breakfast. It was a far cry from the life he once knew, filled with endless missions and solitary nights.

Satoru watched as you deftly flipped pancakes, your movements sure and practiced. "You know," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice, "I could get used to this. Waking up to you, having breakfast together. For the rest of my life. It’s... nice."

You glanced over at him, a twinkle in your eye. "Just nice?"

"Okay, more than nice," he admitted, leaning against the counter. "It’s... comforting. Makes me feel like I’ve finally found where I belong."

You paused, setting down the spatula and turning to face him fully. "You do belong here, Satoru. With me. With us."

He felt a lump in his throat, emotions welling up that he hadn’t expected. "I know. And it means more to me than I can say."

You smiled, stepping closer to him. "You don’t have to say it. I can see it. And I feel the same way."

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I’m glad we have this. Us. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

"Neither would I," you said softly, leaning into his touch. "We’re a team, Satoru. And we’ll get through everything together."

He nodded, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Yeah, we will. And I promise to keep doing my best to be the husband you deserve."

You hugged him back, your arms wrapping around him tightly. "You already are, Satoru. More than you know."

As you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Satoru felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known was possible. This was his life now—filled with love, warmth, and the simple joys of being with you. And no matter what challenges lay ahead, he knew he could face them as long as you were by his side.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your lilac eyes. "You know," he began, his voice softer now, "I never thought I’d have this. A home, a family. I always figured I’d be alone, just me against the world."

You cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing against his skin. "You don’t have to be alone anymore, Satoru. We’re in this together."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I know. And it scares me sometimes, how much I need this. Need you."

You smiled gently. "Needing someone isn’t a weakness. It’s what makes us human. It’s what makes us stronger."

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. "You’re right. And I’m grateful every day that I have you. That we have this life together."

You kissed his forehead, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. "Me too. We’re building something beautiful, Satoru. One day at a time."

He nodded, a sense of determination settling in his chest. "One day at a time," he echoed. "And I promise, I’ll be here for every single one."

You smiled, feeling the depth of his commitment and love. "And I’ll be here too, Satoru. Always."

As you both turned back to the breakfast preparations, the sense of shared purpose between you felt stronger than ever. The rhythmic clatter of utensils against pots and pans, the fragrant aroma of coffee wafting through the air—each moment seemed infused with a quiet but palpable sense of contentment.

In the simplicity of your daily routine, Satoru found himself feeling his heart beat just a little bit faster. There was a sense of profound happiness that he couldn’t quite explain, a feeling that bubbled up from deep within his chest and spilled over into every fiber of his being. It was a feeling that defied rational explanation, transcending words and logic to manifest as a pure, unadulterated sense of joy.

It was never going to be easy to explain, Satoru realized, nor did he feel the need to try. Some things were simply beyond words, existing in a realm of emotion and intuition that defied rational analysis. But it was okay—it was more than okay, in fact. For Satoru, the unpredictable nature of life was a source of excitement rather than anxiety, a reminder that every twist and turn held the potential for new discoveries and adventures.

And through it all, you were there by his side, holding his hand through every challenge and triumph. As long as you were there, he knew that nothing would ever be truly insurmountable. With your unwavering support and boundless love, Satoru felt invincible, ready to face whatever the world threw his way.

As he watched you move gracefully about the kitchen, a sense of gratitude washed over him, filling his heart to the brim. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting familiarity of home and the warmth of your presence, Satoru knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. And with you by his side, he was ready to embrace whatever the future held, secure in the knowledge that together, you could conquer anything that came your way.

Satoru took the pot of cocoa off the stove and poured it into two mugs, handing one to you. "To us. May we be happy together." he said, raising his mug.

"To us," you replied, clinking your mug against his. You smiled at the last bit. “May we be happy.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the promise of your future together, you both knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey—one filled with love, laughter, and the simple, everyday joys of being with each other.

All that he is when he's around you.

That's all he wants to be in this life.

And you would say the same thing to him.

But he didn't have to hear you say it to him.

Your eyes tell him so much more than he needs.

epilogue

Gojo Satoru stood in his cluttered office at Jujutsu High, sighing softly. There was a baby carrier strapped to his chest with a gurgling Gojo Satoshi nestled inside. The little one wasn’t really feeling his dear beloved father’s stress. But Satoru couldn’t expect much of his little dawn. He liked laughing, being stressed free and his mama. As Satoru moved around the room, he couldn’t help but stand still. There was little place to move. 

His cerulean eyes scanned the room, which looked like a tornado had swept through. Papers, books, and miscellaneous items were scattered everywhere. This was his first year of teaching in Jujutsu High and immediately, everything was already a mess. He didn’t expect it to be this way this quickly. Satoru was good at keeping things clean most of the time. But these days, balancing fatherhood and balancing husbandry and jujutsu — he really didn’t have the time to clean. 

Satoru didn’t teach methodically, like Utahime. But he still needed a basis for what he was teaching. So he had scrolls upon scrolls he borrowed from Gojo manor and even Mikoto manor. Along with books that Yaga–sensei would be looking for by now. He wasn’t just teaching things from his gut–feeling. That would get more unnecessary yapping from the higher ups than he already was getting. Plus, you’d end up yelling at him for that. Kids were at stake after all.

He didn’t know why he decided to do this today, if he was being honest. It was really not the time. You weren’t in town right now, you went back to Kyoto for a few days at your mother’s request. Nobuhiko was going to have his first teaching class in Kyoto Jujutsu tech too. And there was the issue of a barrier somehow being down in Kyoto. You had to deal with that. Satoru didn’t want to see you off. But well, you really had no excuse now that you were off duty. 

"Megumi, Tsumiki, help me out here," he said, trying to sound authoritative but mostly just sounding tired. "Your mother is out of town, and I can't stay at home moping around."

“Gen–san’s not our mother.” Megumi rolled his eyes, picking up some of the books.

“Well she’s all you have, and I’m lonely without her. So stand your butt and help me clean this up.” Satoru touts, as he starts to roll up the scrolls. Satoshi giggled watching his father roll it up. Satoru grinned. “You like it, huh? Yeah, the sound is fun, isn’t it?”

Megumi sighs, crossing his arms to his chest. “We could be playing some video games right now. It’s a Sunday too.”

“Oh cheer up, Megumi! I’m buying us ice cream once we’re done, hm?”

Tsumiki, ever the peacemaker, smiled as she cleared up some paper into the box. "Cheer up, Megumi! This is fun.  You never know what we might find in Satoru–san’s office.”

“More trash?” He waves around a newspaper that was out of date and puts it in the box.

“Something interesting, like….like this!” Tsumiki pulls out a book on the types of cheesecake. 

“See, ‘miki has the right idea, ‘gumi~”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head. “This is hopeless.”

As they began sorting through the mess, Satoru slumped into his chair, cradling Satoshi gently. The baby giggled, tugging at Satoru's sunglasses with his tiny, curious fingers. Each time Satoru gently pried them away, Satoshi’s giggles only grew louder, echoing through the cluttered office.

"Hey, don't mess with the shades, kiddo. They're part of my charm," Satoru murmured, his usual bravado softened by the affectionate way he spoke to his son. He placed a playful kiss on Satoshi’s forehead, making the baby squeal in delight. “We don’t want to make mama panic about a new pair having to be bought, you know?”

Satoshi didn’t seem to understand, as he kept giggling. Satoru couldn’t help but grin at how mischievous his little dawn is. “My baby is such a mischievous little one, hm? I’ll have to get you your own pair, shouldn’t I? So you and papa can match the look and be cool together, hm? Ah, that would be so cute~”

Megumi sighed as he opened yet another drawer filled with random items. "What is all this junk?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of disbelief at the sheer volume of clutter.

Satoru waved a dismissive hand, barely glancing at the drawer’s contents. "Important stuff," he replied vaguely, focusing more on adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "Probably."

“You can’t just say probably!” Megumi retorted back.

“Oh, it’s going to be fine~”

Tsumiki, more patient and methodical in her approach, carefully sifted through a stack of papers. Suddenly, she paused, her eyes catching on something unexpected. "Hey, what's this?" she asked, pulling out a stack of neatly folded letters tied with a red ribbon.

Tsumiki untied the ribbon and picked up one of the letters. She unraveled it and began reading aloud. 

"'My dearest darling, love of my life, the apple of my eye. This mission sucks. I really hate being here. I really wish I could just make the higher ups eat shit.  But the sooner I finish, the faster I’ll come home. You take care, hm? Eat well. Make sure Megumi still isn’t upset about the white wolf costume. We’ll get him the black one next year. Make sure Tsumiki doesn’t forget to pick up her new ballet shoes.  I miss you more with each passing day. Your absence makes the world feel gray and lifeless. I count the days until I can hold you again. Love your one and only husband that loves you in this entire world, Satoru.'"

Megumi's face twisted in discomfort. "Seriously? You wrote that? I thought there were phones by this point.”

“Writing love letters is nice, you know!” Tsumiki says, smiling as she looks tenderly at the letters. “It just shows that Satoru–san loves Gen–san! You’re such a romantic, Satoru-san!”

Satoru flushed, his face red as he was adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "’miki’s right! And  those were private! And yes, I wrote that. So what? You've never seen a husband that loves his wife, huh?”

Tsumiki giggled, continuing to read. "'PS. Your smile is the light that guides me through the darkness. I can't wait to see it again and bask in its warmth. Forever yours, Satoru.'"

Megumi groaned. "I can't believe this. You're like a love-struck teenager.”

"Hey, I was pretty young then. And nothing wrong about it. It's called being romantic," Satoru defended himself, trying to sound dignified despite his red face. "’sides…..She liked it. And she wrote back, let me be clear! Her words are just as sappy.”

Megumi shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. "I don't need to hear this."

Tsumiki, still amused, looked at another letter. "There are so many of these. How did you have time to write all of them?"

Satoru shrugged as he also took some of the letters in hand. "I have my ways. Plus, when you're away on missions, you have a lot of time to think about what's important. I liked being home, I like being with my wife and you guys. So, that’s what’s in here.”

Megumi didn’t want to admit it. But he was very glad that Satoru wrote about them. He sighed and instead muttered under his breath. "I thought you were supposed to be the strongest sorcerer, not the sappiest."

Satoru gave a dramatic sigh. "One can be both, Megumi. One can be both. With a wife like mine? You’d be multi-tasking it all.”

As they continued to sort through the mess, little Satoshi started fussing. Satoru bounced him gently, cooing softly. "It's okay, little guy. Daddy's just getting roasted by your big brother."

“It’s well deserved slander.”

“Don’t listen to your big brother, Satoshi. Love is always winning!”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. "It's sweet, Satoru–san. Really. It's nice to see this side of you."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Satoru replied with a smirk, taking the letter and waving it around. "This is only for my wife and you guys. Keep it zipped. I have a reputation to maintain."

Megumi rolled his eyes again, but there was a small, reluctant smile on his face. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sappy pants.”

“Hey, that’s not a good insult!”

As the day went on, they managed to make a dent in the clutter, uncovering more hidden gems of Satoru's sentimental side along the way. Despite the teasing and the awkwardness, there was a sense of tenderness that filled the room.

Satoru looked around at his students—his family—and felt a warmth in his chest that rivaled any love letter he had ever written. Even with the chaos, the mess, and the relentless teasing, this was his life. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Alright, team," he said, standing up with Satoshi still strapped to his chest. He was giggling as he held his father’s finger. "Let's wrap this up. Who's up for some ice cream?"

Tsumiki and Megumi exchanged glances, then nodded.

"Fine," Megumi said with a sigh. "But you're paying."

Satoru grinned. "Deal. And hey, thanks for helping out today. It means a lot."

As they left the office, Tsumiki couldn't resist one last tease. "You know, Satoru–san, you should write another letter. Something like, 'Today, I survived my kids reading my love letters. Love, the strongest—and sappiest—sorcerer.'"

Satoru laughed, ruffling her hair. "Maybe I will, Tsumiki. Maybe I will."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x oc #jujutsu kaisen x oc #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x oc #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x oc #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo x oc #gojo x reader #gojo x you #tsumiki fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #fushiguro megumi #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for venting?

Emojis, so I can find it later 💯⁉️💥 (unrelated, I just use them a lot)

So I(16) have been struggling with depression since I was, like, 10. It's been worse and better over the years, but something that really triggers it is extreme weather. Dunno why, but if its hot as fuck outside I *will* be considering suicide.

I regularly go to sleepaway camp every year. I usually do two weeks and usually go during the summer rainy season. Well, a year or two back (can't remember, got that depression and ADHD memory loss) I went later on in the summer than I usually do, and it was really fucking hot out. The whole time.

I could deal with it for a couple of days, especially because I was having a bit of romantic tension with J(16) (not real name, not even real initial). "I can survive any situation as long as I have a crush on someone there", or whatever that post said. He was really sweet and also suffered from depression. We talked about our struggles together, and he seemed to be responsive and chill about it. He did have trauma from his past with loved ones committing suicide, but he seemed to have worked through his grief and didn't have negative reactions when it was mentioned.

Here's where I might be the asshole. Eventually, the heat got to be too much for me, not to get too graphic but I was making plans, so I sent my parents a letter asking to pick me up. I waited a couple days for them to recieve it, and they did and called and said they would pick me up in the morning.

I delivered the news to everyone by being quite vague about what I had to go home for. When pressed, I said my parents didn't give any details and I was a little worried. That explained my acting weird away to everyone, but not J. He didn't believe me for one minute, and was determined to get to the bottom of it.

He took me outside, asked me what was wrong, and told me it was ok to tell him. It took a little convincing, but I eventually broke down and told him I was having suicidal ideation and that I needed to get the fuck out of dodge or I might do something drastic. I specified that I would be completely fine once I got out of the oppressive heat and humidity, just that I had to go home ASAP. I did ask him not to tell anyone because I didn't want them to worry, which I realize now was unkind. I should have at least told a counselor so that he wasn't alone.

Anyway, he immediately started having full-fledged PTSD flashbacks. I couldn't tell at first, but then I realized what was going on and tried to comfort him. It didn't work. The counselor that came check on us just kicked me out. I went back inside feeling guilty, but I was hoping that I reassured him enough that he would be ok.

He acted normal for the rest of the time I was there (we even kissed! That was my first kiss) and made me promise to text him when I got home. Naturally, I did, reassuring him and telling him I was feeling infinitely better now that I had air conditioning and my phone. When he got home from camp a week later, he seemed a little freaked out but seemed to be mollified by my texts.

However, a couple days after that, he texted me out of nowhere, saying that I shouldn't have told him about what I was going home about because I gave him constant PTSD flashbacks for the rest of camp. He felt sick with worry the whole time. I felt like shit, obviously, so I responded with profuse apologies. He seemed to accept them but still feel a little resentful.

I still feel really fucking bad about it. I actually haven't told anyone I know IRL about. Well. Pretty much anything bothering me since. I know that's a bit of an overreaction, but I don't want to do that to anyone else.

So, am I the asshole?

(By the way, if you were there or know me, I would love it if you could just ignore this. Please and thank you. And also never make me know you read this cause that would be embarrassing as fuck lol)

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

[skyfallscotland]

@heartfeltletters-written asked me 💥 How do you feel about criticism? and it felt like something that needed its own post, so here goes: the hypocrisy of critics in modern fandoms, an essay.

Criticism. I don't like getting it or giving it when it comes to writing. I struggle to even gently give it to friends, even when they ask me what I think of their work. Writing is such a personal thing that we pour our heart and soul into and like you say, many criticisms aren't necessarily valid. By that I mean, there's a difference between "Amy you use em dashes a lot babe" (I do) and "This story would have been so much better if Remi were a virgin" (actual criticism I have received, lmao). 

Unlike traditional authors, we will never make money from this, we do it for the love of it and it's time we will never get back. For some of us, it's time we could be working on our own original manuscripts too. I don't think people who give the second type of criticism are writers, generally. They don't understand the craft and what goes into it. Whenever I post and someone says a chapter was short or they immediately ask when the next one is, and that's all they say, I die inside a little. I try not to take it personally, but it's hard.

Personally, I think fandom behaviour is getting worse and that flows over into our comment sections and tumblr asks. I have a whole other dissertation on this that we’ll call ‘the slow death of fandom as we know it: an essay’, but that’s perhaps for another post. I don’t know how welcomed that commentary would be. 

You said the word ‘entitled’ in your original ask and I think that’s spot on. People have become more entitled in general and downright rude (which is not restricted to online spaces, by the way). I write for ACOTAR, but you’ve never seen me discuss it here because no matter what you say in that regard, you can’t win. Someone will always attack you and I do mean attack. Even in regards to Fourth Wing, I don't talk about my opinions a lot outside of my own little bubble of friends and readers.

And that's the kicker to this whole conversation, really. If I were to criticise Iron Flame/RY everyone would jump down my throat (as has happened on other platforms), even though I'd never say it to her face. Do I stand by my opinions? Absolutely. But it would be rude to tell her them, unless asked. I’m not allowed to (validly) criticise certain elements of her story, a published novel, without being attacked for it, but those same people are fine criticising my work directly to me. Hypocrisy at its finest.

There’s a new influx of people to fandom spaces who are completely unwilling to integrate and completely unwilling to be kind. You mentioned those who criticised your work could have saved themselves the trouble and read the tags, but the thing is: they don’t want to. They can’t be bothered to take five seconds and figure out how they work, to curate their own experience, because that’s what half these people are like. They want an algorithm to do it for them, gods help us.

For me, personally, I'm my biggest critic. I also have raging generalised anxiety, so just posting on the internet is enough to send me spiralling (seriously, I feel sick just typing this out). It's very, very out of my comfort zone and I've been very, very lucky so far to have cultivated the readership I have, full of very like-minded people. Perhaps due to some of the darker content matter. But the second I get harshly worded comments, I get upset.

I don't say that to elicit sympathy, it's just a fact. I get upset about it the same way I would if you were standing in front of me saying it to my face, and for someone with depression and anxiety, that lingers. I'm getting better at laughing at them, but it's like when someone tells you they don't like you and your mum says "just ignore them"—not that easy, right? 

So yeah, I don't mind if you want to tell me I use a lot of em dashes, or that I've used a word incorrectly in context, but I don't need to hear how much you hate original character fic when you could just use your last remaining braincell the back button and continue on with your day. Just be kind, is all I'm saying.

#hurricane's writer asks #amy chose violence 🔥 #basgiath (remi's version)

[yuurei20]

Idia Facts Part 47: Idia and Ortho (pt4)

Idia’s guilt over Original-Ortho’s incident is hinted at early on, and in Book 6 we learn what happened: seeing Idia depressed by how his future has been decided for him, Ortho encouraged him to go on adventures while he can.

Idia decides to do just that and takes Ortho along, shutting down the security system that keeps the phantoms in check.

An escaped monster attacks Ortho in front of him, in an incident that Idia now says is “a blank” for him. (“By the time I woke up, Ortho was gone.”)

Idia blames himself for Ortho’s death and decides to take him back, spending two years building Robot-Ortho: “the world’s first self-improving technomatic humanoid.”

Idia’s accomplishment disturbs researchers at the facility where he lives, but Idia decides, “Who cares if he doesn’t have some unprovable, immaterial thing like a soul? My brother’s right here.”

Idia reflects, “Maybe if I hadn’t tried to go on an adventure…or maybe if I’d never wished to be a hero…maybe if I’d never been born into this family at all.”

(Idia seems to have complicated feelings about being alive.)

Fairy Gala IF is a stressful time for Idia, who initially refuses to let Ortho participate (Ortho convinces him through fake crying).

Fairy Gala IF is Ortho’s first time making his own gear (it was designed by Crewel).

When Ortho gets called out for his unoriginal ideas by Vil, Ace asks why he just doesn’t go to Idia for help. Ortho insists that he wants to challenge himself rather than have his brother tell him what he should think.

Ortho does not even tell Idia about the plan he comes up with (with help from the other 1st-year students), with Vil and Crewel calling Idia out for his lack of support in the brother he supposedly has so much faith in.

Idia encourages him with, “Your big bro knows you can do it.”

Detour: about Idia’s use of “big bro”: Robot-Ortho and Original-Ortho are differentiated by how they refer to Idia in two different ways, with Nii-san/Idia for Robot-Ortho, and Nii-chan/Idy for Original-Ortho.

This is important in Book 6, acting as the hint to Idia that reveals who he is really talking to after the island gets taken over, and it is used in a symbolic “passing of the torch” way by Original-Ortho.

But there is a third element on EN that doesn’t exist in the original game: When Idia refers to himself as “Nii-chan,” it was changed to “Big Bro” on EN, when technically it would be “Idy” on EN as it is Idia referring to himself in the same way that Original-Ortho did.

This means that every time Idia refers to himself as “big bro” in the English-language adaptation, it is a reference to Original-Ortho (Robot-Ortho refers to him as “Nii-san” both pre- and post-Book 6).

Idia does so in Book 6 and Fairy Gala IF. I thought that this might be a Post-Book-6 trait, but Idia also did so twice before (removed from EN) and in a vignette.

Looking at all these instances together, it seems “Leave it to your big bro” is supposed to be a go-to phrase for Idia, but maybe EN didn't realize it until Book 6, which would explain why Idia's dialogue was rewritten for English speakers at first.

Much like when an anime is being produced based on an ongoing manga, EN might just not know very much information in advance!

Normally it would not be a problem for certain flair to be added to dialogue during the localization process, but if EN does not know what's coming next, there is a risk of something seemingly innocuous being rewritten only to be later revealed as an important character point--which might be what happened here!

#twstidia #idia shroud #twstfacts #idiafacts #twisted wonderland

[narcpocalypse]

Hello fellow narcs that have v high grandiosity I care u. However when I read ur posts I'm like DAMP I am the complete opposite most of the time. I do experience grandiosity very much so but I'd like to call myself a "downer" narc if that makes sense. My experiences are mostly depressive and full of crashes. When I see other narcs talk about how they value themselves highly and feel better than others most of the time I totally understand just from an episodic temporary perspective. I only feel this way consistently when I'm actively self destructive and getting high off it/experiencing psychosis/EXTREMELY enraged and blinded by that rage. Most of the time I feel like a lil crumb and would never even think of viewing myself as highly as others do UNLESS I'm experiencing what I said before. But I also don't wanna be pitied when I feel like a crumb like I will kill u if u do/lh. But for real I'm just irritable and tiny

OH and also I feel like I can't openly talk about myself highly for the things I do "unhealthily" praise about myself that isn't episodic because then I'd drop the front. Me? Grandiose? Please, I'm humble!!!!

LMFAO

Like there are some things that I'm like oh yeah I'm #exquisite but even then I hurl at the fact that I could ever view myself that highly when there's always someone to 1 up me

Sorry if this is confusing I'm a walking contradiction

#giles blabbers #narcposting #npd #narcissistic personality disorder #actually narcissistic #actually npd #narc #npd safe #cluster b #actually cluster b #cluster b safe

[yannaryartside]

Carmy has been a victim of gaslight his whole life

gifs by @robertacolndrez

So, the definition of gaslight, according to this site, is:

 "Psychological manipulation of a person usually over an extended period of time that causes the victim to question the validity of their own thoughts, perception of reality, or memories and typically leads to confusion, loss of confidence and self-esteem, uncertainty of one's emotional or mental stability, and a dependency on the perpetrator."

According to Forbes Health, this are some of the things you experience when you are being constantly gaslighted.

Anxiety

Depression

Disorientation

Lowered self-esteem

Post-traumatic stress disorder

A hyperbolized fear of danger, known as hypervigilance

I want to zoom off that last one; remember when Carmy told in the group sharing session that he had to remember himself that the world was not falling? That he had to remember himself to breathe?

If we take "Fishes" as a basis to understand the family dynamics as they grow up (and I think we should), then we can get a pretty good idea of how much Carmy's feelings and thoughts were discredited growing up.

When he speaks up about how much shit they are giving him about his profession, Donna and Mickey attack him in the group to make them say "I love you," basically telling him that it doesn't matter that they make him feel like shit; Carmy is supposed to love them no matter what. I assume this is the answer he got every time he spoke up about boundaries being crossed, or maybe he was just so intimidated by his much larger and loud older brother or his aggressive mother. We can get traces of this trauma every time he gets insulted to his face in the show; it was so bad that it was Pete of all people who had to defend him (it is very telling that is Pete because to everyone else, insulting Carmy and him having to just take it seem to be a normal occurrence, Donna made it that way). It was the only way to keep the peace and the family functioning. Clining to the love he could take in the "good moments."

Here are some ways the most important people of his life had gaslight Carmy:

Donna seems to have a preference for Mickey over Carmy, a preference he is aware of but never understands why. Donna will throw "forks" of random aggression at Carmen, and he can never fight back. As a child, he was forced to think there was something wrong with him because that is the way a kid's mind works.

Mickey lied to him about why he cast him out and hid his addiction. Ignored Carmy's calls and then acted like Carmy (who was alone in a different city and in a very mentally aggressive industry) was making a big deal about it. Carmy wanted support, and Mickey (probably the only real parent figure he ever had) was making him feel shit about it.

gifs by @thoughtfulchaos773

When he confronted it about it, Carmy couldn't even look his brother in the face; that is how much deep down Carmy was intimidated by him. Mickey also never gave him a final answer about their dream restaurant. With time, the breach between the brothers got so big that the only call he ever received about Mickey was to inform him of his death.

gifs by @espumado

Richie, Mickey, and others started to tell him about who he should date. It seems like they still intend to make decisions for him on that front. (Fuck Fak and Richie). They knew Carmys had a crush on Claire at some point and were weaponizing his emotions; Mickey probably did it to compensate for how much of a shy brother he had been. It is possible they ver wanted Claire for themselves.

And then, you have Claire, that absolute promisse of uncomplicated love and affection. She doesn't necessarily gaslight Carmy, but she definitely has infantilized him in a couple of instances. Aka, this post.

That kind of game from Claire, suggesting to somebody else what they should think or say, is not acceptable either. When a person does that, they are aware they are doing it; it doesn't matter if they think it is harmless or not. Toxic behavior and ignoring boundaries don't stop being toxic because you have love/affection for the other person.

The fact that a victim of gaslight like Carmy is accepting this treatment, a person who had to go with what people wanted from him his whole life, feeling he had to adapt to receive love, because otherwise there was something wrong with him (Donna), makes it all worse. Carmy has associated (subconsciously) accepting insulting scenarios as part of a relationship with a loved one. With Claire, he accepts being infantilized and guided into saying the things she wants him to say. Yikes all around. I am not saying Claire is or would abuse Carmy, but this dynamic's undertone is not pretty.

I hate to end this on a shipper note, but for me, this all goes back to Sydney. Since the beginning, Syd is the only person who has established clear intentions with him and followed through with them. She does it when she says she wants something or will do something. Why does this "best friend" woman seem to have a less toxic approach to their relationship than his own girlfriend? That shit cannot be unintentional. Camy and Syd established in s2 that they could argue while recognizing their responsibility for the argument. No antagonizing, no lies, no manipulation.

#the bear meta #THERAPY IS URGENT #this man could not recognize a healthy relationship if it punched in his face #the bear #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #carmy the bear #sydney x carmy #anti claire bear #carmen bearzatto

[chiquititaosita]

girl dad! geto x mom! reader

-literally cannot I MEAN CANNOT!!! Mimiko and Nanako LOVE THE BABY! Like not even joking they think of her as a baby doll.

- geto puts his little princess in braids and cute hairstyles because of post partum depression. He takes charge sometimes

-“what do I do? Why is it crying?” He asked a little worried. While baby girl yuikiko is throwing herself back and closing her fists as a newborn. She’s so hungry. The nurse explains everything to him. He takes it with a grain of salt.

-takes care of you during pregnancy and your postpartum journey

-the first diaper change is hilarious. “Oh my god!-“ hello covers his mouth gagging looking away as the baby laughs. Because she has a full poopy diaper.

-the twins just laugh, when geto struggles changing yukikos diaper. “Ah little flower is going to give me a hard time.” He mumbles.

-he doesn’t understand what breast milk is until you were legit breastfeeding. “Wait can I try some?” Mother fucker inhaled that shit because it was pleasing to the tongue. puts it in his protein shake 😭

-if you feel insecure about your new mom body he’s not going to be the type of husband that says “fuck get over it.”

-he keeps on admiring your body, like when y’all had y’all’s first time together. “I have so much more respect for you now [y/n]..” he’ll whisper

-one time you came home from work watching the twins, the baby and Suguru all fall asleep, luckily the baby was alive and breathing well. Even sleeping in the portable bassinet around the house.

-is so proud that yukikos first word is mama but when he hears dada he goes feral crying. It’s giving “I’m not crying you are!”

- he is willing to teach his girls his techniques in order to defend themselves when geto is not present.

- now he calls y’all’s daughter a monkey “y/n! this damn monkey baby is putting things it’s in mouth!”

-(when the baby learns to pull hair he regrets it) “okay okay I’m sorry it’s a her my bad!!” 💀

- like fr though he loves your daughter even when she eats her food in nothing but a diaper and strapped in a high chair because she’s exploring taste and texture

-“I’m gonna protect you from everything that’ll potentially and will put you in danger on your mama.”

- one time he let gojo babysit it did not end well (he lost her by almost sealing her with another curse because he wasn’t watching her while she was crawling around) 😭😭

- the baby is very much a daddy’s girl so whatever baby girl wants baby girl gets

-also he holds your hand while holding the baby when she gets her ears pierced. (He shedded more tears than the baby) then the baby was fine after she was given a bottle of milk.

-“she’s fine?”

-the baby tries to hit Suguru for no damn reason ON PURPOSE (when she’s a bit older and can move her arms during that development)

-“OW SHE BIT ME!” the twins will laugh

-the twins will try to feed the baby baby food but wanna watch the baby feed herself.

-“ why is yukiko eating her foot?”

-“ask y/n”

-“why is yukiko eating her foot?”

-“I think she discovered it”

-he’s there for every milestone and trying to record it.

-lots of pictures and videos of the baby with the girls and you.

-when the baby is tired and screaming crying, and you’re not there singing to her. Suguru discovered his singing soothes the baby (regardless if it sounds bad on purpose or not) or if he sings bad lmao

-and geto would never want anything to change because he loves his little family

#⋆˚✿˖° osita’s chisme time #dad!geto suguru x reader fluff #ˏˋ ╎ ⁀➷ osita chisme time ´ˎ˗ #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader fluff #suguru geto #jjk x reader #⍣ ೋ osita’s loves #jjk x y/n #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x latina! reader #jjk x black reader #bears chisme♡︎ #jjk masterlist #˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ositas jjk masterlist

[inthisvaleoftears]

(UPDATED: STILL URGENT) I’m taking commissions

Hello my loves, I never thought I would have to do this again, but I really need help right now. I am doing art/translation commissions again, if you’ve known me since the pandemic you will remember I started to work in order to help my parents after my dad lost his job and got depressed, and was at the time too sad to do anything. I thought my parents were doing fine post pandemic since my dad got the will to study to get a masters degree, but my mom told me very recently that she is in debt (around S/ 20k peruvian soles or maybe more) and I’ve been weighing the options we currently have.

I know I haven’t been a good child to them. I dropped out of uni, and then dropped out of art school because I am too sick (clinical depression) to go. I am currently looking for a job as a waiter, and that money will go towards easing my mom’s debt. My best bet is looking for expensive restaurants, because foreigners come and go, and I’ve heard they leave big tips. I only speak spanish (mother tongue) and english (second language) fluently and I have faith that this privilege will help me. I’m trying, I really am.

Aside from doing this separately in order to help my parents, I am working on commissions (both art and translation) to help my partner. If I thought that my family had it bad, when I met and started dating my boyfriend it became clear that what we were going through is nothing. He is a very sweet boy, and he treats me like I am an angel, but he is my angel. He’s had it very rough. He’s struggling with addiction and I fret over him constantly, because he lives very far from where I do and if he were to be in any danger I wouldn’t be able to reach him in time.

Aside from struggling with drug addiction since he was a child, he left his home this year, and started living alone. I know that it is not ideal, but he was desperate to get away from his mom. I know i’ve been judgemental and I know I don’t trust his mom still. But I reached out to her today because I was so worried about him. I’ve learned a few things today. He’s been living in the house of a friend. That I knew. What I didn’t know was that this person is a drug dealer… These people are not good friends. My boyfriend isn’t a good friend to them either. None of them are good friends to each other. His mom, I do not trust her, and I don’t think I could ever understand why she had to treat him so…

However, after I learned my boyfriend is taking harder drugs from someone else, I pleaded for help to my own mom. And she told me I have to tell the woman what is happening because things are so wrong right now. We need her help too. My love told me he wanted to be someone she could be proud of. If I have to trust his mom, for him I’ll try my best. I need to be kind. I’ve never been a mother. I could never understand the desperation of being in her position. He’s her only son. I called her and she started crying. She’s scared. She told me that if I ever felt this taking a toll on my health, that I should leave. But there’s no reason for me to be here if I can’t help him.

Earlier tonight, I got a message from a friend of his, asking me about him. It’s bad… she told me that her friend saw him at around 10pm yesterday (it’s 4 am right now) …he’s not well at all. The girl saw him babbling and falling. I shouldn’t have let him go back. I am devastated… he promised he would come see me today, and hopefully, he will agree that he needs help. But he’s a stubborn one… I am begging on my hands and knees for anyone up there listening to have mercy. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. He doesn’t deserve this… he’s the last person deserving of such pain. I won’t let him go.

I will plead with my family for him to stay here at home. He can’t go back to Carabayllo. Now that I know what’s happening, we can’t take that risk. His heart has already stopped before because of an OD. If I let him go back, he will die. Giving him an apartment close to where I live isn’t enough. He needs to be supervised. And he needs help. I know he’s terrified of being admitted to rehab… I understand. I’ve been in the psych ward twice before because of my attempts. I know what it’s like. I never wanted to die as much as I did when I was in the ward.

He won’t go if I can help it. I’ve been doing research and there’s alternatives… Rehabilitation at home, and another alternative is going to the hospital periodically. I’m going to ask any people who might know. My mom works with doctors… I’ve already asked her and I know she will do that for me. Please pray for him. For him to accept that he needs help. That it’s not fine… and for him to see how much he’s hurting himself.

As for me, I’m still taking commissions. Please DM me for any information, my prices range from $15 to $45, no more, depending on the complexity of the piece. The only thing I will not draw is heavy gore and cp. I can also translate from english to spanish and spanish to english, if anyone’s interested. I’m charging $0.10 per word, because this is new for me despite being fluent. If you’re interested, you can check my tags: #my art // #translation for examples… I’ll tag them below to make accessing this information easier.

If you’re peruvian, and you know of any place that offers such treatments, please contact me as soon as possible.

I’m terrified. I feel like I’m falling to pieces, like it is all my fault. I should have been more patient with him. I’m supposed to be gentle, but I keep losing my patience with him, despite knowing how hard it is to deal with addiction. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for being mean. But… this is not about me. All I do is for him. This is for him.

Pay///Pal

#my love #commissions open #my art #translation #art #please reblog #help #signal boost #attack on titan #sonic the hedgehog #the legend of zelda #romeo and juliet #original character #anthro #furry #personal

[ryttu3k]

Speculating on Astarion and Elvish names, based on this fantastic post by @snailpaste.

So, we know a few things. We know that elves take new names when they reach (cultural) adulthood, at about a hundred years old - a name that's chosen by and representative of them, rather than the name given by their parents. Astarion died at 39, well short of that 100-year mark, and the name 'Astarion' is the one written on his grave. Presumably, this means it was his given/child name, and he's never changed it.

The post linked above goes into a bunch of different components (in Quenya, granted, although we don't have a full D&D Elvish lexicon so Quenya is probably one of the closest options we have), and possible combinations and meanings. One fairly 'standard' meaning for Astarion is 'loyal/faithful son', from 'astar' meaning 'loyalty/faith' and '-ion' being a suffix meaning 'son of'. Let's go with 'loyal/faithful son' as his initial name, given to him by his parents.

Switching tracks somewhat - there's an early-2000s anime series called Haibane Renmei, which does some very interesting things with names. The characters wake up from cocoons with no memories save for a dream, and are named from the content of this dream; the protagonist is named 'Rakka' after her dream of falling. Later on, characters may get the opportunity to earn their true name, which is spoken the same but has different kanji; Rakka's true name means 'connected nut', a nut that has a fused shell, to show the bonds she's made with others.

There's also a darker side. The deuteragonist, Reki, is named 'pebble' after her dream of walking down a pebbled path; she later interprets her true name as 'run over', and almost gives in to her despair and depression. It's only later that she's given her real true name, 'stepping stone', indicating that this is just another step on her way forward, and is able to start healing.

(It's an absolutely beautiful anime, and short at only 13 episodes, but fair warning, it deals heavily with depression and suicide.)

So, how does this relate back to Astarion? Well, with all these interesting meanings, what if Elvish worked a similar way? Same sound, but different meaning, based on tiny differences of pronunciation or stress, or the way it's written in Espruar, or something like that? I can see Astarion, initially named 'loyal/faithful son', being forcefully renamed by Cazador - 'Astar + -ion' becoming 'Ast[o] + ar- + -ion', the components meaning (respectively) 'dust', a prefix for a royal title, and 'son of'. Son of the King of Dust, or 'Prince of Dust', a deliberately cruel reframing to show Astarion that for all his attempts at airs and graces, he's still just nothing. Prince of Dust. His early life is gone, he's the Loyal Son no more. He's just... dust. As he forgets his early, mortal life, the name Cazador has given him defines his entire existence.

More hopefully, however, this could change again, post-Cazador. He's free now. It's a rebirth, as much as becoming an adult in elven culture is; it's a good opportunity to take an adult name. Astarion has used his name for over two hundred years, far longer than elves normally would keep their child name for, and I can see him wanting to keep something of his past while also moving on; he could reframe the name again, and find a new aspiration in it as well.

'Astar + -ion' -> 'Ast[o] + ar- + -ion' -> 'Ast(ar) + -ion'; he returns to the Loyal/Faithful Son, but this time adds in 'ar' as a noun, overlapping the 'Astar' part. (Essentially, 'Ast(ar)ion' or 'Astarion'.) Now, it can be translated as 'Loyal/Faithful Son of the Sun/Day/Warmth'; it's an adult name that he's chosen, and promise to himself - that he'll find a way to walk in the sun again.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #the pale elf #languages #haibane renmei

[ampersandnotdash]

my whole fic has likely already been done before.

i'm gonna finish and post it anyway.

#depression times call for depression posting #woo. #fic: this bitter and bloody world #writing shit #thanks for clapping

[ravencincaide]

Happy unhappy home!  

Summar: Soukou think you may be suffering from postpartum depression. Something you strongly disagree with. How dare they suggest you’re an incompetent mother and a threat to your children when they haven’t been around for months! Surely, they must have a different agenda behind their accusation? 

Pairing: New parents! Dazai x Chuuya x Fem! Reader!  (SKK x Fem! reader)

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 12: Chaste Kiss   

Warnings: Cursing, Postpartum depression, light hint at maternal filicide, angst and disappointment, angst

Author note: An independent part two for Desperate times call for Desperate measures. Check that fic out if you’d like more angst, new parents and see more of what happened before this scene! 

Enjoy  

______________________________________________________________

The alarm was ringing.  

It had been ringing for the past twenty minutes. A dull monotone sound that had reached its maximum amplitude sometime between minute five and eight, leaving the clock to just screech and nervously buzz closer and closer to the dresser's edge. Another loud ring followed by metallic duns as the clock jumped to its death off the bedside table, finally growing silent.  

Slowly you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, forcing your eyes open. You ran your hands over your face, heaving a heavy exhausted sigh. You were literally keeping your eyelids open with your fingers to prevent them from shutting and falling back asleep inside the hard spare bed in the shoesize room. You felt so-so drained and yet you had gotten a decent six hours of uninterrupted rest last night. Without Dazai or Chuuya craving your attention or bringing the twins to you when they became too much.  

Truly six hours of sleep was a miracle.  

Though now that morning came all you felt was a dull frustration. At that moment you did not know what was worse; the fact that you had to get up and face the day. Starting with preparing breakfast for the twins and your lovers, or the mild annoyance of having to go and buy yet another bloody alarm clock.   

At least the babies weren’t fussing. Yet.  

With great effort you dragged yourself out of bed and haphazardly put some day-old clothes on. Hair up in a bun while on the toilet and a quick wash of your face with cold water and you were ready to get started in the kitchen. You needed to put up coffee, blitz some fruit and think about a more adult-suitable breakfast. Porridge was hated by both Dazai and Chuuya but approved by the babies, while omelet was liked by no one but you. Yet another day of sandwiches was out of the option. That left you with pancakes. Glancing at the clock in the living room on your way to the kitchen, you hurriedly picked up your pace.  

Pancakes were doable- if you hurried up.   

Once you got to the kitchen you let out a low groan of frustration. The sink was full of bottles from the nightly feedings wedged between midnight snack dishes and crusty cups of coffee that had finally made their way out of your partner's room and into the kitchen sink. The espresso machine was demanding a new water filter, and you did not even want to think what the splotches and sticky mess on the counter and kitchen table were.  

For a second you didn’t know where to start- then as stress set in you felt your body come alive. You were practically tearing yourself between doing dishes, making the pancake batter and wiping the counter.  When the two non-stick pans on the stove were warming up, you ran the cleaning program on the espresso machine. Then as the pancakes fried, you wiped the table and blitzed fruit for the babies. You set up cups, cutlery and plates in between flipping the pancakes.  

Just as the first batch of pancakes were finished and the coffee machine was brewing the first cup, you heard the heavy shuffling of feet into the kitchen. You ignored them as you proceeded to whip up another batch of pancakes- realizing you made far too little to feed double black. Halfway through cracking the eggs, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.  

“You’re up early, Sweets” Chuuya yawned in your ear before placing a chase kiss on your shoulder.  

“Morning” you replied dryly, moving out of the embrace. You were fully focused on flipping the pancakes with one hand while mixing the batter with the second. “Coffee’s ready I think” you muttered, out of the corner of your eye watching a zombie looking Dazai reach for the hot cup, muttering a halfhearted morning and thanks in one breath.  

You heard Chuuya sigh heavily, disappointed, before going over to the coffee machine and brewing another cup. As the machine skimmed the milk and ground the beans, Chuuya got into a half bicker, half quiet discussion with Dazai about something. Not too long after, the two settled down at the table a few paces away continuing the hushed discussion.  

They didn’t even bother to ask- let alone step up to help you. Jerks.  

“Are you absolutely sure this is legit? And how the hell are we supposed to fill it in anyways” You heard Chuuya hiss at Dazai, making you turn your head in question towards them. You saw the two of them staring at what looked like a thick stack of papers between them- no doubt some kind of work-related report. Probably an evaluation of the new recruits or something. 

“ Of course it’s legit- I’m not an idiot like you.” Dazai stated matter of factly pointing something out on the sheets of paper with a half broken- half chewed on ink pen.  

“ Who the hell are you calling an idiot- you extra stuff that comes with bandages!” Chuuya snapped back but settled down the second he noticed your eyes on them.  

You felt your lips turn down in a frown as you flipped another bunch of pancakes: So, fucking typical. With them it was either work or the twins. While you were still just this ‘something’ that did everything around the house with little to no gratitude or help. Right then you felt like the extra stuff that comes with babies. A ghost- boggart- in your own home.   

You had just finished making pancakes when you heard a wail from upstairs. The babies had woken up. Instantly you turned off the stove: wiping your hands on a cloth you rushed upstairs to get the twins. After all, those picture-perfect fathers were not so perfect until after breakfast.  

You returned a few moments later, placing the babies in their highchairs. Then you put small bowls with mashed fruits in front of them in different cups. Yet another attempt at introducing solids into their diet. Then back to the kitchen, returning a few seconds later.  

“Here!” You dropped the two plates of pancakes in front of your so-called partners, not caring either about the loud clang the plates made against the wooden table, or the way the food slid off them. Or the way the twins clapped their hands in glee at the loud noise. You went back to the kitchen, moving things into the sink to make it easier to wash up later, while turning on the kettle for tea.  

A hot cup of chamomile or melissa tea sounded heavenly at that moment.  

Hearing the children's fuss, you abandoned both dishes and tea; rushing back towards the dining table, where Chuuya and Dazai mouths were stuffed with food. Their attention was divided between the stack of papers in front of them and the twins that were eagerly reaching for their fathers' pancakes. You felt another wave of irritation wash over you- a bitter kind of anger that you bit back before you said something you would regret. Instead, you fixed all of them with a warning look, making sure that neither Dazai nor Chuuya shared their breakfast with the twins. The last thing you needed that morning was to pull pancakes out of the children's noses.  

“Sweetheart, aren’t you going to eat anything?” Chuuya asked suddenly, sounding concerned as he watched you come closer to the table and take a seat beside the children.  

“I’m not hungry” you growled through squeezed teeth as you picked up the small plastic spoon and began trying to feed them mashed berries. After a few moments of screwed faces and the fruit going everywhere besides inside the children's mouth, you dropped the small spoon back into the colorful cup and looked up at the ceiling. You were blinking away tears of frustration. How fucking hard was this supposed to be? 

Not hard if you were to ask the pediatrician! 

“Here let me try Belladonna” Dazai gave you a small smile as he picked up the spoon you had carelessly dropped back into the mash.  With some exaggerated motions and airplane noises, the children ate the mash without any issue. As if Dazai was feeding them formulas from a spoon. Soon Chuuya joined him, wiping their mouths and then burping them once the twins were done.  

The sight warmed your heart, but it also made you feel self-conscious- a failure somehow. Why hadn’t you thought of doing that? Wasn’t it a mother's instinct to know what to do and how to care for her children?  To have an inseparable bond. And yet it seemed Dazai and Chuuya were somehow closer to the twins- despite the fact that you were the one who did the majority of the nurturing duties. Were you perhaps- not equipped to be a parent?  

The thought lingered in your head as they all finished breakfast. It lingered through the playtime with children and even as you put the twins down for their nap. When they'd wake up, you’d need to bathe them, then dress them and take them for a little time outside. And then–  

“-Belladona?” you snapped out of your thoughts when you noticed that Dazai had been talking and trying to get your attention for the past minute or so.  

“Oh sorry, what did you say?” You asked as you draped the covers over the snoozing twins and headed towards your partner who was lingering in the door of the nursery.  

Dazai flashed you a nervous smile, one of his hands in his hair, trying to make himself look less awkward. “A moment of your time dalin?” he repeated himself. You frowned, unsure why he’d suddenly ask for your time so formally. Then as you saw him shift under your gaze you felt your eyes widen with realization and nodded quickly, eagerly and followed him back to the living room.  

You sat down on the couch opposite your lovers, a hopeful feeling in your chest. They looked so nervous, bumping shoulders against each other, flickering eyes, silent motions for one or the other to start. To an outsider they would have looked like composed mafioso's- to you they looked like a bunch of nervous teenagers. You held back a giggle, the sight reminding you so much of when they first asked you to be with them- then once again when they asked you to start living together.  

You almost felt nervous yourself. And excited. And anxious. Were they really going to finally–?  

“Sweetheart there’s something we’d like to ask- no discuss with you” Chuuya started, clearly having lost whatever silent banter he and Dazai were having above your head. You felt the palms of your hands grow damp- sweaty. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your mouth dry- your ears ringing. It was finally happening, wasn’t it? You could barely contain your grin: 

“ You both know I’d say YE–” “– we think you might have postpartum depression”  

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Ice cold dread washed over you; making dark dots play in your vision. The disappointment on your face was clear. It seemed to throw both of them off guard for a moment. Like they couldn’t understand what it was you were hoping for- what you were so eager to say yes to. It took a moment for your mind to register what Chuuya said- but you certainly regained your composure quicker than either of them.   

“What?!” You snapped, narrowing your eyes dangerously at the pair, daring them to repeat themselves. “What did you just say?” 

They didn’t answer directly: Instead, they made a motion towards the stack of papers that they had been fiddling with all morning. They were laid out on the small table between you. Postpartum Assessment sheet with a bunch of ticked off boxes. You didn’t know what made you feel more insulted- that they assumed you had postpartum depression or the fact that they assessed you behind your back instead of coming and talking to you.  

You scoffed in response  

“We think you might have postpartum depression– it’s not uncommon. Especially in young, first-time mothers and–” You flew up from your seat silencing Dazai’s voice instantly.  

“No you’re just saying that because You are not around. Either of you! so it's just fucking easier to blame all the shortcomings and inadequacy on me than look at your own failures!” You began pacing, running your hands through your hair. You couldn’t believe it- that they could even think you were a threat to your own babies. To the children you birthed and raised and nurtured- stayed up nights and nights to care for. The ones you took to doctors and classes and sacrificed so much for. How fucking dare they even suggest that?! 

“ Sweetheart it isn’t..” Chuuya started. He had moved off the sofa and closer to you, hands reaching towards you, palms up. Something between an awkward attempt at a hug and reassuring you, he meant no harm.  

“No you’re right, it isn’t about that- is it? It’s cuz you want to take them away from me, right?! Want to take my babies away from me and start a partnership” Your eyes moved from Chuuya to Dazai who had remained awfully passive throughout your entire outburst. The fact that he was always absent with urgent work, then demanding Chuuya to come and help during missions suddenly made a lot more sense to you. 

Just like your bare ring finger.  

The thought stung. Instead of feeling anger however, you felt overwhelming sadness. A type of defeat that only came when you realized your own pitifulness- your own worthlessness. The naivety that those two would ever see you as their equal- a shared part of a whole. This realization left a bitter taste in your mouth; “You’ve gotten what you wanted- what you can’t create yourself- out of me and now you want to lock me up with a stamp of being incompetent? Forget it!”  

Chuuya gaped, his brain trying to come up with something that wouldn’t aggravate the situation further. He seemed to have an idea, a thought, but the words got stuck in his throat as your eyes went away from Dazai and back to him. 

Eyes full of icy fury.  

“I’m not giving them to you, not without a fight!” you snapped just as you heard the twins stirring. Their wails awakening a protective and possessive motherly instinct inside you. Without another word you brushed past Chuuya, bumping his shoulder purposefully on the way out of the living room.  

“That went brilliantly, simpleton” you heard Dazai’s voice but did not bother turning around as you headed upstairs to the twins. Out of the three of them you were the most competent to be a mother - a parent. If anyone was having ‘postpartum depression’ it was those two self-centered idiots.  

Going upstairs you picked the crying babies up and began pacing with them around the room, your mind still a jumbled mess as you pressed kisses to each of the twins' foreheads. God what were you supposed to do if they made you out to be so sick and incompetent, so you’d lose your parental rights and — and— you swallowed then shuddered as you heard your so-called partners yelling at each other downstairs. In panic you hurried to retreat to the safety of the bathroom.  

You made sure to lock the door, then barricade it.  

You took a step back from it, your heart in your throat. The children sensed your fear and wailed loudly in your arms. You shushed them quietly before going further into the bathroom. There you set the children down onto the floor only long enough to turn on the water in the bathtub in a feeble attempt to block out the bickering echoing from downstairs. You made sure the water was perfect temperature, then you hurried to pick the twins up and hugged them tightly to your chest, rocking backwards and forwards. The sound of your so-called partners' loud voices only fueled your fear and sadness. How dare they suggest you were incompetent. How dare they attempt to take these babies away from you. As if they’d be able to do a better job than you. To protect them from this cruel, cruel world! 

 No, you were not going to let Chuuya and Dazai take them away from you. Your twins- your joy. Your purpose in life.  But if they were truly serious about it– then you’d rather take yourself and your babies out of this world than risk putting them through the horrors of going even a day without their mother—.   _____________________________________________________ Update: Check out the next part A hit beyond rock bottom

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #sweetober #desperate times call for desperate measures #bsd angst #bsd x reader #dazai x you #dazai x chuuya x reader #angst #new parents #post partum depression

[zebratimw]

Spirit animal SQH

#svsss #shang qinghua #but mainly I'm just here to vague post LMAO I don't like to vague post its not very effective in terms of venting but #but basically I guess I'm becoming hyperaware of my like... cognitive dissonance codependency and derealization ee #also my general laziness ig and where it overlaps into executive dysfunction or whatever like I may genuinely have some issues but #I am also a lazy son of a bitch jfjfkgkg and i need to figure out how to figure it out so I can work on both in more effective ways hhggg #oh yeah but basically the thing to remember for later is the silence in the call and the immediate unmute and chat activity once I left #I should remember this and stop interacting I think? I should try to give em space I think I'm being too clingy or something #or maybe my own silence is too awkward and dampens the call? I was kinda just spacing out and not doing anything so I get its kinda weird #LMAO so I should just like try not to be in call for those times mm #I just like being in call with my friends jdhfkg but I suppose its not very good either #I overindulge I suppose another friend pointed it out to me before too haha but fjfjjt its just easier than facing bouts of dread by myself #eehh and that's why I gotta do something about my Metnal Ailneses hfjfj but ngl I don't really know how to go about it... #I get embarrassed looking stuff up djfnfkg and half the time I don't even know what to look up I just draw ?s and I give up #I suppose I also have commitment issues too but that ones not new which is an issue of itself aaaaaaaa #man idk idk I just don't really get it I guess djdjfjf and I've got existential dreads and think maybe it doesn't really matter whats wrong #cause there's no point to fixing them because ultimately I'm gonna die alone and a failure anyways? so like ehfjgkg idk #its depressing and I know its like sabotage cause my brain is being a little silly a little goofy and its not a shared sentiment #with the better half of me and the entirety of my friends but yknow its just ee harder sometimes to believe in the optimism ig #and i can talk about it somewhat normally and without like having a ✨️break down #but yknow djfjgkg I'm very emotional a person ya? I think sqh is relatable for gods sake 💀 #irrationality sentimentality nihilism and existential dreads... wanting to die because living is too hard despite all my hopes for living... #just the ol regulars yknow? #and another thing... do I talk to my friends about these things? I vent them out here a lot but what do I really want? #I'm not strong enough to keep it to myself clearly but I'm also too proud to share these thoughts? I dump them out in the open and for what? #whenever someone reaches out with concern and care I don't respond in kind and refuse to elaborate? #so like what do I want with this? I guess I want someone to know I'm going insane half the time I'm awake? but not do anything about it? #that's pretty unfair I guess... and stupid I think I do want to share my thoughts with someone but I'm too scared of the ramifications #and that my pride can't stand the fact I might be looked differently by my friends even tho the image they have of me is already quite silly #man.... idk.... I'll come to conclusions myself and do nothing about them so I guess that'll happen again aah idk idk idk

[mail-me-a-snail]

what i really enjoy about the beginner's guide is that davey (the character) does not play any of coda's games as they were meant to be played.

he is always finding some way to subvert them because he either has 1) no patience for coda's antics and/or 2) he already has an assumed idea of what the game should be about, and he forces that idea onto the game. it's like coda says: davey puts lamp posts in all his games, bc the lamp post symbolizes a meaning.

the lamp post does not mean anything; it itself is a symbol of meaning. davey projects hard onto coda, supposes that because he sees himself in coda's games, coda must also be depressed, anxious, he must also hate himself.

that must be the only explanation for any of them.

and it just. boggles my mind how the beginner's guide is always taken very literally, when it's really just an exploration on the relationship btwn a person and the art they're consuming; how someone who likes something can see that thing not for what it is, but what they think it to be.

#the beginner's guide #i have a lot of thoughts about this game. easily one of my favorite games of all time #its just #davey wreden's writing is phenomenal #i dont think coda is a real person. not truly #i think coda is a persona created for the game #it calls back to the stanley parable honestly #a weird game that features strange antics and topics of depression loneliness anxiety and etc all presented in a mystery #that cannot be solved right away? #sounds familiar #my post

[todayisafridaynight]

what makes minedai even sadder is that we never rlly see daigo try to build a bond with anyone else like he did with mine it rlly shows how badly it effected him like yeah he reached out to shinada in y5 but that’s rlly it and he probably would wanna leave him alone after that and not involve him in any yakuza stuff so i don’t think they would’ve hung out or anything like that afterwards. All he rlly had were saejima and majima but they were more like babysitters than anything, wish we saw more of their dynamic tho like we did with majima and daigo in dead souls since that was fun and we were lowkey robbed but in canon he’s just as lonely as he was before majimas promise to kiryu. And mine is the only person he really had a meaningful relationship with romantic or not they were still really close and we don’t see that again with daigo ever (from what i recall after y3) ok sorry for rambling LMFAO

even with shinada, he reached out to him more so out of 'duty' and trying to make up for the misfortune that befell him because of yakuza than wanting to rekindle any kind of friendship they might have had in high school (though it sounds more like they were just acquaintances if shinada needing a second to remember who daigo was is anything), so yah i doubt they really had any kind of bond afterwards

dead souls really was the only time after Y3 where we got to see daigo be more sociable with someone, but its as you say majima and saejima are more like retainers than close friends

#snap chats #you can tell i was into fire emblem when the first term that comes to my mind to call majima and saejima was 'retainers' omfg #but yeah ..... depressing .... #does make me wonder who daigo was on the phone with during the rggo story though. like clearly daigo has friends #apparently. we just never see or hear of them. tho ig it is implied those were his friends from the y2 era. as mine said flarkjla #REGARDLESS yeah after y3 daigo just feels depressing to watch #i think its just because he really has to do everything on his own now #but not even have a friend to just chill with at the end of the day- like the technical work is whatever. for the most part #THATS stressful obvi so to not have anyone to really be personable with thats probably the dire part. imo. #cause yk the world could suck but as long as you have that One Person to just relax with then its ok but with mine gone. 🧍‍♂️ #probably doesnt help that like. during the 'flashback' segment of y3 where we get to see daigo sitting with kiryu and nakahara #we see him all cheery and bein a lil jokester and just. A Happy Dude #granted this is barely a year or two into being chairman so The Horrors Havent Set In relatively but still ... i miss his smile .. #every time i think of daigo post-mine i think of those like. tragedies or accounts of people where its like #'after X's friend/lover died they never found another again' like thats the vibe i always get #he really packed it up and never got close with anyone else again and it makes me want to throw up #y4 widow arc still good tho it makes me chortle

[jichanxo]

sooooo... *twirls her hair* how many asks should i send until kuwagami art. jk as well. the real question will be: does it happen often that someone else’s art inspires you? in fandom spaces specifically

well you see it’s like a loyalty card program, every 10 asks or so you get a complimentary kuwagami

just kidding you can just breathe in my direction and I’ll be tempted to draw them. kuwagami blast! (you've caught me on a... just okay art day lol)

(people still like kabedons, right?)

anyway for my actual answer: in terms of direct inspiration, it doesn't really happen much? the last two times i did art directly based on someone else's work is probably this one from this fic, and also that time i drew art of someone else's judgment au. oh! and there's that moriohpsycho art based on this comic! (filthyguts' work is so very. hgngngghh. very good.) nothing else really comes to mind, and when i think of the other things i've been into recently there hasn't been as much opportunity for that to happen...

flex and herds = strong fixation but lmao. almost nobody else made stuff about them. nobody is surprised umineko = surprisingly i don't read much umineko fanfiction? and in terms of illustration, i certainly picked up imagery and indirect inspiration but nothing concrete enough for me to give an example... now that i think about it, i did once draw andromalius from redaction/sunny, but that was years ago, and also mostly because i was acquainted with the writer. ...i don't have that artwork on hand right now death note = didn't really get involved with the fandom + i enjoyed my own ideas well enough! ...i can't recall if i drew long-hair-L art before or after seeing other artists do it. and as for everything else the same kind of reasoning applies. didn't really get involved with the fandom or wasn't really compelled to make art in response to stuff i saw, or i just don't remember anymore.

buuuuuuut if we're opening this up to just... pulling ideas from other people? then yeah, all the time, though that kind of goes without saying when you have a creative hobby. ...it's probably going to be hard to come up with examples of this since it's more ambiguous.

there's uhhhhhh... kuwana listens to nickelback which was a @/four-white-trees invention, wasn't it? (EDIT: and @/overdevelopedglasses!) (not tagging in this post so he doesn't feel obligated to read my big ass ask responses 💀) as of writing this, it's not posted but i did end up making kuwagami art based on a nickelback song so. yknow. there's that LMAO

for sawashiro and arakawa, i do sometimes go reference @/todayisafridaynight 's art to help me with my own. ("how did he draw this part of the suit? oh, like that huh? hmm" <- this kind of thing)

and um. i'm not trying to pander to you (at least not this time), but genuinely it's one of the few examples that come to mind at this moment. but when i was writing my first kuwagami fic, i could feel the influence of the ever-changing on my brain... was turning over some of your ideas there...

you remember this? (you even pointed it out in your comment on my fic, and i should've said something then, but whatever i'm saying it now)

that was absolutely because of this

(obligatory poke at anybody else reading this post that you can read passthroughtime's fic here.)

so, um. yeah. not really sure what else to add to that. pretty self evident i think. (i'm always talking about the ever-changing but i don't think i can overstate the impression it left on me at the time)

anyhow there aren't really any other examples off the top of my head! these are all recent examples so they're not so difficult to recall, but there are probably others i've forgotten...

#jitxt #started writing this unsure if i could give many examples and i ended up with more than i expected. nice! #sunny is a very good piece of umineko writing and i should reread it with the author's notes toggled on. and also read redaction #“shouldn't you have read redaction first” n-no. shut up! (besides i think renall said it was fine) #nobody remind me of that 20k note post that's just an uncredited screenshot of sunny. it'll piss me off #as cosmic balance i ought to shill sunny as much as possible #anyway uhhhhhh. the everchanging. #i am awful about receiving compliments (i never know how to respond aside from a rehearsed “thank you”) but i sure am great at giving them! #apologies if i'm laying it on too thick but #1. i am being truthful and #2. i figure it's reparations for all the time i spent as a lurker on the kuwagami ao3 tag #the explosion in my brain when i realised that “the nice person who leaves lots of tags on my kuwagami art” #and “the person who wrote that REALLY FUCKING GOOD FIC” were one and the same. crazy. and now we are mutuals ❤ #it is a little funny thinking of when i'd read your and four-white-trees' work before meeting you #real life foreshadowing for me meeting you both.... #i still have these discord messages of me telling a friend about both your works #basically: (reading an update to the everchanging) wow that was depressing (reading a joke in four-white-trees' fic) nevermind i'm good now #i ought to reread the everchanging and take detailed notes on all the parts i like #just so you know your impact on my brain lol #kuwana calling yagami a pretty boy and meaning it sincerely oh my GOD. rewired my brain