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sleekista · 4 months

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a bit hot

barça fem x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: yesterday i was in shambles trying to write this.. i keep getting sickness i write about 💀food poisoning next 😃

TW: Vomit, passing out, illness

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It all started with a small headache, it was one you could tolerate, probably just a bit of exhaustion and would go away once drinking water. The thing was though, it didn’t go away.

It was hot in Barcelona, 37° C hot. Water intake for everyone was high, and you were being made to drink extra water by not only the physios, but also your Captains.

Honestly, you thought everyone was feeling like this if you’d been drinking the most and still feeling headachy. You persevere though determined to not let a bit of pain decide how the training goes.

But when ignored, problems only get worse.

It only takes half an hour for your overall health to decline, and obviously people notice. How couldn’t they when it looked like you couldn’t even think straight.

Which is true. You don’t recognise what’s happening until Alexia is pulling you away and inside the air-conditioned room.

“Dios Mío. What are we going to do with you.” Is the first thing she says, putting you in the direct line of 18° coolness blasting. It isn’t enough though.

You feel yourself growing tired, your head dropping every few seconds.

“Hey, hey. Stay awake for me yeah?” Your captain asks you. The only thing you are capable of doing is groaning before ultimately passing out, falling into her chest.

- - - - -

When you wake up again, you’re in a different room. A fan blowing on you and a UV line dripping into your skin. Alexia is also there, who has been joined by Marta and Mapi.

You feel sick to your stomach, shutting your eyes in hopes of holding anything inside back. Conceal don’t feel right? That’s what Elsa says.

You hear footsteps cautiously approach, you don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s Alexia.

“Nena?” She whispers quietly, placing her hand on your still slightly warm skin. You shake your head, trying to suppress any indicators that you were about to throw up. She knows better, Mapi knows better, Marta knows better.

The other captain throws Alexia a puke bag who holds it in front of your mouth.

“Come on, I know you don’t want to but please. You’ll feel better.” You give into her and into yourself. Retching into the bag, making all the girls in the room cringe at the sound.

Once you’ve pulled yourself together, Alexia closes the bag and disposes it in a bin in the corner.

“Are you going to throw up again soon or no?” She asks, sparing a glance at the other two.

“I should be fine, thanks Ale.” Your voice is hoarse and slightly cracks.

“Ok, good.” She leans against the table you’re on thinking about what to say next. Marta beats her to it.

“Why didn’t you speak up about how ill you were? We would’ve brought you in sooner.” You sigh.

“Well I thought we were all going through that! I had been drinking more water than you guys yet I’m still the one who is plugged into a machine?”

“You have to promise to tell us next time ok?” Alexia asks, you nod.

“Bebita, I have Ingrid ready in the car when you feel well enough. The doctor said you could take the UV out when you wake up” You smile at the thought of getting into your bed at home.

“Ok, thanks Mapi.” She pats your leg smiling.

“We’ll talk about this another day ok? Go home, get rest. You are not going to be training in conditions like these over the next few days. Some investigators are looking into why this has happened so they might want to talk to you at some point.” She finishes curiously.

“Well, sounds fun. I wanna go home now.” Mapi nods, helping you stay up and walking toward the car where Ingrid is already situated.

- - - - -

When you get home you’re exhausted, hungry and sweaty.

“Come on elskling, I’ll run you a bath while Mapi gets you some light food. Then you can sleep for however long you need. Is that ok?” Ingrid says, pushing you inside.

“Mkay, thanks Ingrid.” She kisses your temple placing the training bags she was holding in her room before going to the bathroom to start a cool bath.

“I won’t make you anything warm, do you want a salad?” A salad does sound good, and refreshing.

“Sounds good.” She leads you to the bench, the cool countertop doing wonders against your warm skin.

She gets the salad ready rather fast, it’s not that big, but definitely enough that you won’t go to sleep uncomfortable.

Soon after eating your food, Ingrid comes back.

“Bath is ready when you are.”

You nod, legs still shaky so the couple helps you to the bathroom sitting you down.

“You’ll be ok?” Ingrid asks feeling your forehead, still cringing slightly.

“Yeah, I will. Thank you both… this means so much to me.”

“Don’t worry bebita, it’s the least we can do.” Mapi says smiling.

They both take your silence as a que to leave the room so they do. The bath relaxes you, and takes away most of the uncomfortable feelings inside.

When you’re done, you change into shorts and an old shirt, walking out slowly to the living room where Ingrid is reading a book and Mapi is playing with Bagheera.

Ingrid notices you first.

“Do you want medicine? Then you can sleep.”

“Yes please.” She gets up, going to medical cabinet pulling two paracetamol out and handing them to you with a glass of water.

“Drink.” You do as told and you finally let the exhaustion of the day come up to you. Before you realise what’s happening, Mapi has lifted you up and is taking you to your room.

“If you need anything, we’ll be here. Promise.” She whispers, putting you to bed. You smile up at her before falling into a peaceful slumber.

—————————————————

thanks for all the love and support guys, i hope that i can post the other fic tonight so you get 2 in one day 😘

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader

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hatelangdon · 8 months

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I got you, baby.

Pt 1 / 1094 words.

(Franken!Kyle x Witch!Reader)

Angst, Hurt/ No comfort turns into Fluff and Hurt/comfort

(🚨Warnings: ABUSIVE language from a partner, physical ABUSE from a partner, crying, verbal stutters, anxiety attack? Maybe?🚨)

Summary: Zoe left, it was all too much for her. Kyle has made himself physically ill from the heartbreak he feels, and Madison isn't necessarily the best caregiver and someone needs to show him some kindness.

(A/N: I love my sweet angel baby, he deserves only the best. IM SO SORRY IF THIS BREAKS YOUR HEART IT BROKE MINE WRITING IT Also, this is not proofread i'm sorry but Kim, there's people that are dying.)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It had been a week since Zoe's departure from the coven, it was all too much. Taking care of Kyle, Madison's constant harassment, and the pressures of training her powers had drowned her spirit. She had managed to make it out of Kyle's grip in the middle of the night and sneak out.

The only thing that she left was a goodbye note telling Kyle that she loved him but ultimately she chose herself.

Nights were always the hardest you could hear Kyle crying throughout the walls of the mansion.

Zoe had basically left him high and dry and in the hands of Madison, who’s attempts to comfort him weren't the greatest. Her patience was thin and if Kyle wasn't calming down fast enough for her she would often become very cruel towards him.

The other girls tried to help him stay sane during the day, Queenie would often read to him, and misty would play Fleetwood Mac and invite him to dance, in attempts to lift his spirits.

You wanted to do more but you had only joined the coven about a month ago so you didn't really know Kyle well enough to extend more than a passing smile if he was near.

It would work for the most part, he felt better as long as he was distracted.

But once nighttime rolled around and he had no Zoe to hold onto that's when everything would change. It had gotten so bad that Cordelia often had to create botanic concoctions from the greenhouse and have him drink it as a sedative so the poor baby could get some sleep, instead of keeping himself awake from sobbing from heartache.

It was Wednesday, 8 PM that's usually when the trouble started

“Zoe…Zoe...” you could hear Kyle sobbing but his voice was more hoarse than usual

“she's not here you idiot! I keep telling you this! she left you, she didn't want you, she doesn’t love you like I do!,” Madison barked back

which only made Kyles cries louder, he hated when she spoke to him like that.

“I am so sick of this!”

There was suddenly a loud thump on the wall and you heard Kyle scream which caused you to get out of bed and see what was going on.

Madison had thrown him back onto the wall where she was repeatedly kicking him and yelling.

” I'M THE ONLY ONE LEFT WHO CARES ABOUT YOU! STOP CALLING FOR HER, SHE'S NOT COMING BACK YOU ONLY HAVE ME!”

It's only made Kyle cry harder as he shielded his face from her relentless attacks, he was much stronger than her and more than capable of throwing her across the room if he wanted, but he couldn't seem to get up.

“Kyle sorry! Kyle Sorry!” He choked out repeatedly but Madison was not letting up.

She suddenly stopped, stooping down and grabbing his face making him look up at her.

“you wonder why Zoe left," she scoffed "look at how needy and ungrateful you are, I'm trying to help you and all you can think about is her.”

Your heart broke at the sight, and without even thinking you had thrown Madison across the room with a flick of your wrist. You didn’t even know you had the power, but it came to you with ease in that moment. You marched over to Madison where you had thrown her, even though Kyle was in distress you needed to set her straight first and give him time.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?” She sat up to look at you, rubbing her head

“have you lost yours?” Your tone was so calm it was almost sinister, you stare down at her your eyes piercing she suddenly started to cough it felt like someone was gripping her throat, you were doing it, with your mind. “Now, Madison I'm going to keep this very short and simple for you,” you tilted your head

“you can choose to leave the house or I can crush your windpipe, and have you die a second time." You smiled "hold up your fingers, option one or two?”

Madison, lips blue held up her index finger and you released your grip from her neck.

“I never wanna see anything like that again.” your glare intensified and you turned around to check on Kyle.

"stupid bitch" Madison stood up, of course she tried to lunge at you but you're smarter than that, all it took was a slight raise of your hand and she was frozen mid air, you decided to keep her that way.

Kyle had balled himself into the corner, he was absolutely inconsolable, hitting his head with his hands as he sobbed

“Stupid, stupid, stupid” he repeated over and over again as his face only got redder and redder.

Your already broken heart had torn clean in half at the sight. You got down to his level

“Kyle no, no no no no no” you whispered, grabbing his hands to stop him from bashing his own head

“Hey buddy, it’s y/n. You’re safe, just calm down for me." You tried to rub his back to comfort him, but you were suddenly surprised by his arms wrapping around you completely, as he sobbed into your shoulder, shaking.

“I'm sorry she did this to you, I got you. I got you." You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, trying to soothe him as he hid himself away in the crook of your neck, you could feel his muscles become less tense as you held him. He felt so warm, and his eyes were rimmed red and puffy, he obviously wasn't feeling very well.

"Let's get you into bed honey, you're exhausted." you rocked him back and forth, his cries had calmed down but his hold on you had not eased. You were very careful to lift him with your own body, you felt him tense back up as he realized Madison was still in the room although she was frozen his knees buckled, if you hadn't been holding him up he would've fell back down.

"...We'll put you in my bed tonight, is that okay?" you held his cheek in the palm of your hand while his big brown eyes met yours.

He nodded

"Y-y-y/n g-good." he pressed his forehead to yours.

you blinked a couple times, and nodded,

"I am good, I'm going to take care of you Kyle. okay? I won't let anyone else hurt you."

The blonde gave you a gentle smile, and held your hand as you lead him down the hall to your room.

(Part 2 )

#kyle my beloved #franken kyle #kyle spencer #ahs coven #american horror story #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #evan peters #coven #madison montgomery #hurt/comfort #whump #thats all i got #american horror story coven #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #angst

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queendomkey · 5 days

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1, 2, 3, 4—

The Prophecy opens with the softest whisper, a male voice (likely Aaron Dessner) counts the song in. It's very faint ( I didn't hear it on my first listen through, actually. ) Deciding to record / keep the count in is an interesting writing tactic. Count ins can lend songs a sense of being like, a chant, but it can also lend a sense of vulnerability and rawness, an 'unedited' feel.

Here, it kind of has the same edge of like, an acoustic, live performance, and definitely calls to mind this idea of the singer songwriter, sitting with her instrument and her band mate, and processing her feelings out loud. And god, does the Prophecy deliver.

The Prophecy is a plea, it is hands and knees begging for another chance. There's this sense of defeat in Swift's narrator, as she acknowledges that a "lesser woman would've lost hope," and that "a greater woman wouldn't beg," even as she turns to pray for a different fate. There's something so painful in the speaker painting herself not as great, and not as weak, but as someone too strong to let go and not proud enough to know when to walk away.

It paints this picture so vividly of someone who has had her heart broken so much that the aches all bleed together. She says that she "thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again." Gone again. If she were a greater woman, a woman more proud and less willing to suffer at the hands of her lovers, she would have walked away. Instead, she "howls like a wolf at the moon."

I love how.... claws and teeth that description is. Swift, in the bridge, paints her narrator as so desperate she is reverting to all her base instincts, sounding "like an infant" and being so drained that she feels "like the very last drops of an ink pen." Burnt out, hurt, left without even the words that Swift's narrator once donned as armor. All she has left is begging.

The Narrator does discuss the singular loss that has brought her to her knees - describing "poisoned blood from the wound of the pricked hand." A lover whose self destruction has soaked into her, has infected her mind. It brings forward, again, that idea of wanting to help someone through their darkest patches, but being unable to, because they don't want to get better. ( Its sister lyric, if I had to assign one, is You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days. from So Long, London. )

But I don't think that singular loss is what pains her so. The song makes it clear, it is the culmination of years that has brought her here - and by her own hand. I got cursed like Eve got bitten. (Note: My main source of bible knowledge was a Gender Women's Studies class I took in college called Women in Biblical Literature, so my understanding of the story might be... off.) Eve made the choice to bite the apple of knowledge, manipulated by the Snake, and in doing so, is blamed for all of mankind's ills. It's a fitting metaphor for Swift (and in turn, the narrator she portrays,) a woman blamed for something a man also did.

Swift's narrator in The Prophecy has suffered bruises and pains and still has it, somewhere in her heart, to beg for another shot at love. It's painful; how much she wants to be loved, and how little she gets in return. Left feeling as useful as a paperweight - something meant to hold down an important document, but ultimately, put aside once its usefulness is gone.

#ttpdminutes #the cassandra speaks #the prophecy #taylor swift #this song i have a very strong attachment to for. personal and writing reasons skklsdgfds #so yeah its def a top 5

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bunnyhysteria · 26 days

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a few people are bringing up depression in response to my shen yuan post, and while do what you want yes, I feel this does go back to how people don't know how to write disabled characters as another person brought into light. including mental disabilities.

mayb now I'm projectin on this one, but seein the absolute cluster fuck of shen yuan, it feels strange to go "it's depression!". I see narcissistic personality disorder, other cluster b traits, I see autism, mayb even ocd. he's a paranoid, hot head mess whose constantly calculating every moment. but people don't really know how to contextualize mental illness, especially not the "scary" ones, even if they have mental illness themselves. just slap on depression and anxiety as a bandaid and don't talk about the rest! it's not that people don't want to go further (or at least I have some faith), I just think our current society has not prepared people to step out of the "nice" mental disorders.

so I don't fault anyone who reduces his nonsense into the socially acceptable depression, but I can't act like that it doesn't make me uncomfortable. but also not uncomfortable enough to directly respond to strangers on the interwebs HSKDHDH.

but I also did want to talk about the depression to slob pipeline as well because that's I suppose the part that gets me. he's unwell, so he's a slob and a disgustin mess. a statement that could be made about someone who has depression, but I have a hard time applying the "he" to shen yuan in this case. I'm personally under the "I care so much about my image that I feel like I'm gonna rot from the inside out" type, and my response has been to hyper clean. clean and clean until I can't clean anymore and so I'm stressed that I can't make my space (and by extension myself) better in a small matter of time. I was once a slob in the past as a teen, but I'm immensely embarassed by it. I'm vain, so I take photos of myself with my backdrop being my room, and I will loose my marbles if someone looks down on me because I threw my pjamas onto my bed while gettin changed. no one but me and my family enter my room. no one else even enters the house.

*picks up shen yuan by the scruff of the neck* yer telling me this rich pretty boy obsessed with tryin to get people to take him seriously wouldn't have an instagram or whatever the equivalent would be?? honestly I feel like it would be expected of him, and he might also flaunt his wealth (that he didn't earn) to try to feel better. if you couldn't tell I'm tryin to shove a superiority/inferiority complex onto him over his status. that's just cause I think it'd be funny I don't have any text evidence off the top of my head for that lmao.

ultimately with all this, I just want something different. I want people to step back and look at shen yuan for who he is and then extrapolate out from that and into how they want to play with his character. I don't know how, with all these complex thought processes and characterizations of binghe, we have landed with a very 2d, copy paste version of shen yuan every time. maybe I just need to dig more into shen yuan fan creations, but I have yet found one to step out of the invented fanon version mold or their small variations. and its quite strange to me given how divorced fanon shen yuan is from canon shen yuan. I suppose I'm not used to a fandom with a character so warped away from canon well accepted. dare I say, ooc.

#svsss #shen yuan #text #mine #shout out to my first therapist who looked at my cluster b clusterfuck and went 'yea that's just depression and anxiety'#mam I have psychosis.#also now I'm briefly thinkin of shen jiu and shen yuan in a blender known as DID. I wonder if that's been done.#I feel like its has to have been???#I'll look it up on ao3 later. mayb. if I feel like it. I will most likely forgor since I'm not that invested in the idea #also shen yuan doesn't have to be my flavour of mental ill that's not the point of the post. I am sharin my experiences as an example of how #he might be instead or just in general mental illness that doesn't fit the mold of 'nice' mental ills #binghe has bpd though I'll say that. the fear of abandonment is strong with this one #strangely im gonna make a wild claim for a character I relate to but I don't see shen yuan as a bpd bitch #that's a new one in my books. usually every character I relate to I slap bpd on like it's flex tape #but it's just not a part of how I interpret his character and I'm not gonna pretzel him into how I am just because #if I'm gonna project I'm gonna use text based sources to at least say that it could be in chatacter #cause do what you want with characters but at some point of pretzeling yer just slapping a canon name onto an oc #and I'm not clickin on a shen yuan fic to read about your oc. like I'm sorry but I'm just not

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marabarl-and-marlbara · 7 months

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hello. i'm not sure how to phrase this properly but do you have any advice on not being afraid of being social with real humans? i admit i am a bit paranoid. i do not want to share anything about myself with anyone in real life, i do not want to use any social media that can be easily traced back to my real identity, i am afraid of meeting up with and talking to people i can meet locally etc. i know that human connection requires vulnerability and being "real", but i've seen far too many examples of people being bullied for being themselves and from my experiences relationships don't last that long, i can't keep friends, so it's almost not worth it to open up that much because it can be used against you later once you stop talking etc etc etc., at least that's what i think. i don't know how to perceive people as kind and stop being afraid. it's hard. sorry if this question is not phrased well.

hi anonymous; i:m terrible to ask for this!

i have basically no real-life relationships and my whole life has basically been a tomb built upon an inability to change, connect, and grow; spiritually i:m like what happens if the bacteria inside an empty house is allowed to stagnate and flow in-to the floorboards till it becomes like a fat pungent jelly saturating the baseboards, principal post, foundation; nasty and tepid and like a black mold :-))!

any-ways: what helped me get-over my social anxiety, slightly, was just gradual exposure at my own behest: forcing myself to go-out and get something nice for myself weekly/daily; when i had a little more money: this would be stopping out for coffee; or: just going to a thrift-store and looking at books.

for internet stuff and bullying: being open and facing consequence for your own existence is just part-and-parcel of being a person; even: if you are "making a career out of yourself" (whether it be an artist, or just some prolific poster (i:d consider this a career, absolutely, because when i was "way emotionally worse" i:d more-or-less literally get financially incentivized for being actively suicidal and mentally ill--blood sacrifice)) you sort-of implicitly are surrendering a barrier between yourself and other, cause ultimately it:s All About Connection & people don:t connect to barriers super well; incidentally, i think i had a worse time with "bullying" when i had more to be ashamed about myself, and had more internal insecurities -- but i also cared more about my identity as an artist; i:ve Confronted(!) the parts i:ve been too ashamed to confront and made peace with them, and now am mostly content with just housekeeping.

But: i:m still terrifically lonely. purpose and identity helps there; the only things that have ever abated the loneliness for me is being completely ensorcelled with /something/ (like a writing project, drawing, fleshing out an inner world, feeling like i am furthering my goal to the Communication/bacteria) -- and those only come as impulses for me; without: every-day is just a lonely dead-quiet stretch between meals that:s filled up with finding excuses to keep myself busy.

~but: i think that:s also "better;" i keep myself to a routine and give myself responsibilities that i don:t let myself shirk (my praying, my cleaning, my exercising, forcing myself to go to church once a week, my cooking, my grocery shopping); it:s like what moto realizes at the end of boogiepop phantom episode 1,

unfortunately we have to reconcile ourselves by ourselves, and likely: that is a life-time struggle that none of us get to shirk;

if you:d like a recommendation, anonymous, i:d like you to watch "boogiepop and others" (not "boogiepop phantom") episode 6; it:s an episode about that struggle, suema talks about it; if i:m feeling super-duper down i:ll listen to that conversation @ the end of episode 6 between suema and aya, about the struggle with the imaginator, and whether-or-not boogiepop is real.

anyways, i don:t think i gave you great advice here anonymous; even: i doubt any of this will lift your spirits >:-)) but @ minimum: try to be kind to yourself, including patience with yourself, and also responsibility to yourself; often it seems like people are awaiting another to come and pluck the dirt out of us: but that dirt is us, and all another can do is add more slurry to us.

take care chief.

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rainingstorms1220 · 9 days

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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

Oooh uh uh that's difficult. Let's see...

1. My OCs and stories

Literally my only motivation to live. I'm very, very attached to my kids—they are the culmination of my blood, sweat, tears and soul. So anything revolving around them makes me very happy, inspired and motivated. I will do everything for them!! Art, writing, even making games if I can! Merch too! Plushies, accessories, anything and everything. All for them. The thousands of little fictional people, worlds and stories living rent-free in my mentally ill brain.

Bonus happiness points when other people also like my kids and are interested in getting to know them better. Like, if you take the time to approach me and ask questions about them, are willing to sit through hours of me rambling your ears off about characters that spawned from the depths of my hellish critter mind, and also actively want to discuss them with me and tell me all of your thoughts—that is like the ultimate quality to my quality time love language right there. It's the most idealistic, unrealistic, impossible thing ever though, mostly because I have a lot of kids and like. 20+ different stories with several more AUs. To have someone else be able to digest all of that information? No way. But yeah.

Fanart and fanfiction of my kids also make me very happy. I will treasure each and every one of the art pieces/writing dearly. Basically anything related to my kids, I will cry over. I will explode over my kiddos.

2. Various media

As of right now, I'm fixated on Twisted Wonderland (LEONA), Bleach (HITSUGAYA AND HITSUKARIN), One Punch Man (METAL BAT AND BATAROU) and Blue Lock (RYUSAE AND KAISER). Very much waiting in anticipation for the TWST anime, Bleach TYBW Cour 3, OPM Season 3 and Blue Lock Season 2 + Nagi movie. I'm also really invested in the Final Fantasy series (III, IV, VII, IX, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, Crystal Chronicles EOT and ROF, etc...)! And I'm a casual player of Punishing Gray Raven (very much looking forward to Wuthering Waves by the same company)!

I also like books! Haven't been able to read as much as I'd like to these days, but I have books I've bought that I hope to read soon. Gotta read Six of Crows (yes, Lune, I'll finish it). Have also been wanting to collect Bleach's light novels (CFYOW currently). And TWST's novels and manga too, once they're translated (Savanaclaw manga and novel C'MERE)! Much to look forward to <3 Fanfics of media I like are also really nice to read. When I have more time, I'd like to write for the fandoms I'm in.

Pretty art is nice. Good games are nice. Good stories and wonderful characters are nice. Beautiful writing is nice. I'm very simple haha, as long as the media strikes my fancy, chances are I'll look into it and derive some form of enjoyment from it <3

3. Writing/Drawing

If it wasn't already evident from the above two points, as well as my own profile, I like to write and draw. Very much an arts kid (creativity is another thing that I'm not sure I have, but let's not get into that). I'm not good at speaking, so having visual representations of the things I feel, be it via written words or artwork, is the best way for me to express myself and communicate, I find. And it's also fun! When I'm not preoccupied with other IRL commitments and stuck in creative ruts, that is.

4. Music

I know nothing about music theory or playing instruments. Not a music kid. I just like listening to good music. In particular, I'm a big fan of J-Pop, J-Rock, Rock, Instrumentals, EDM and Dubstep, Gothic-sounding music, and others, depending on whether they strike my fancy or not. Favourite artists/bands include Tatsuya Kitani, Aimer, Mili and ONE OK ROCK. Banger musicians. You're free to drop recommendations too! I'm pretty open to most genres. Though extremely selective with a few others (K-Pop being one of those genres haha oops).

5. Spending time with friends

Pretty clear cut, I think. I don't have a lot of people I'm particularly close to, but I do cherish those I consider my friends a lot. Quality time love language—just spending time with them makes me happy. We don't even have to really be doing anything. I just like having their company, and if they willingly seek me out and want to spend time with me too, that's even better.

And yep, that's all. I can't think of anything else haha. Thank you for the ask, beloved~

#laments of rain #i also like sweets #but that isn't really that important #as you can tell #I'm quite delusional #delulu is the solulu as they say #i have no life so i spawn life within my brain #it's a very funny thing #but i love my work anyway #love my kids #the light of my life fr

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slytherinshua · 10 months

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100 KISSES

genre. fluff. sickfic. warnings. description of illness and medicine. written on a plane and not proofread. pairing. j-us x fem!reader. wc. 735. a/n. aaaaaa guys im writing for onf 😭 IM SO EXCITED YDEK LIKE???? my lovely lovely boys 🫶 ik it won't get much attention but im so over the moon about this!! also this was a request from my best best friend @ddeonudepressions 🧡🧡 dia i know it took a rly long time but i didn't forget about sick juice u wanted 🫶 i hope you like it ☝️

“Y/n…”

“What?” You sighed, probably for the thousandth time, glancing up from your phone to pay attention to your sick boyfriend. Headache, sore throat, coughing, sneezing, runny nose, ringing ears, or neck pain, you name it, Seungjun was suffering from it.

You had to admit he did look pretty cute with his bright red nose and puffy face, but if you said anything he would get 10 times whinier than he already was.

He currently couldn’t decide whether he wanted to cuddle or wanted to keep his distance to not get you sick. You tried to tell him that you had a good immune system, but he just wouldn’t buy it. You tried to tell him that you were probably already infected from taking care of him for the past 2 days, but he wouldn’t take that answer either.

“I miss kissing you.” He mumbled along with an over-dramatic sniff.

You smiled a little, “You really won’t take the risk, huh?”

He shook his head vehemently, frowning, “You’ll get sick too.”

“What if I wanted kisses too?”

Seungjun paused, contemplating the question before shaking his head again, “Even if we both want kisses, we shouldn’t.”

“Is your throat still sore?”

“Mhm, it feels so… dry.” He coughed.

“I told you to use the throat spray I bought. It’s foul, but I promise it works.” You urged.

“It’s really nasty, though.” He shuddered.

“You might be able to get kisses if you use it.” You coaxed.

Seungjun bit his lip, head falling back onto the couch. You giggled at his antics. He was dramatic even when he was healthy, but no one could ever beat the melodrama that came with a sick Seungjun. He didn’t say anything for about 10 minutes, and you thought he had fallen asleep.

“Get me the throat spray.” He mumbled just above a whisper.

“Knew it would work.” You giggled.

“You feeling any better?” It was hours later, and you were just slipping under the covers after brushing your teeth, joining Seungjun who was hugging a pillow.

“A bit?”

“Still probably not enough for my goodnight kiss, then?” You pouted. You had already gone 2 days without one and a part of you was really hoping to sneak just one peck in before bed.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Seungjun whispered and held out his arms. “All I can offer is hugs right now.”

“You owe me at least 10 kisses once you’re better, got it?” You said seriously, settling so your head rested on his chest and he could wrap his arms around you.

“I’ll give you 20 kisses once I’m better if you want.”

“30.”

“50?”

“100.” You giggled.

Seungjun tried to stop himself from laughing since it usually ended in a coughing fit, but he ultimately failed.

“You sound ugly when you cough.” You joked.

“Can’t really help it.”

“I miss you singing me to sleep.” You sighed, tracing little shapes on his shirt with your finger.

“I miss it too, but my throat is really out of commission.”

“I know…”

“I thought I was whiny, but you know, you’re pretty whiny too.” Seungjun smiled.

“Maybe if my boyfriend wasn’t sick for so long, I wouldn’t be so whiny.” You countered.

“So it’s my fault, huh?”

You nodded.

“I like it when you’re whiny, though. It’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

“You think I’m annoying when I’m whiny, though, don’t you?” He didn’t say it in his usual teasing tone where you knew he was joking. He rubbed your arm as he spoke, his breath coming out a soft tone that you rarely got from him.

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“Hm?”

“Usually I would just say ‘of course, you’re the most annoying person I know’, but I feel like I shouldn’t tease you while you’re sick.”

“How thoughtful of you.” Seungjun mumbled, voice coming out softer and softer as he teetered on the edge of drifting off into a slumber.

“I don’t mind when you’re whiny. It kinda reminds me how much you love me, and that you would even want to put in that much effort just for my attention… So, I guess I like it too.” You glanced up only to find Seungjun already asleep, softly breathing while still holding you close to his chest.

“Why’d I even say all of that if you were just going to fall asleep on me?” You muttered. “…Sleep well, baby.”

↳ onf taglist: open!!

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satindregs · 1 year

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Cannibal Kratos???

I have another draft!!!!

ofc it’s GoW and it’s abt Kratos struggling with, uh, uhm, cannibalism. Anyway!! it’s only like 2k and again a DRAFT so when I eventually post it it may look different(⺣◡⺣)♡

Anyway I'm proud of myself for writing this much cuz I went from 2-3 oneshots a month to 2-3 sentences...

Still thinking of a name! Either The Spartan General's homecooked meals OR The Bite Of '83 bc haha funny FNAF reference

Tell me how to improve if u read! (๑˘ ₃˘๑)

It has been a rough winter. The farmers were even beginning to struggle to feed their own households last Kratos checked. That does not make him feel better.

He attempts foraging, but the ever-falling snow does a good job of hiding what the god desperately tries to find, and for once, the rage heating his body does nothing to melt everything around him.

Faye pretends their bare cupboards do not fill her with worry or bitterness. (Kratos would not blame her for those feelings, as he feels them himself.) She feigns contentment, not showing her hunger.

“We’ll be okay, Kratos,” she mocks, voice too cheery for the somber occasion. “I’ve improved the snares,” The snares that Kratos himself had made. Had his been inadequate? “any rabbit or fox near won’t be able to resist!”

“They’re likely gone, Faye. It’s been weeks without any roaming game,”

“That’s why they’ll be out looking, you big grump,” she attempts to tease. Kratos does not answer her. It takes energy to keep himself calm, and he cannot afford to waste so much when he has so little. The god glues his gaze to his hands as if they hold the answers to his problems. It takes effort to not bury his head in them.

To think something as straightforward as hunger would be one of Kratos’s problems makes his palms itch. He does not take pleasure in what he is capable of, but he has long stopped trying to deny its benefits. One of the old, then new, benefits had been the ability to provide for his family. Whether he fought thieves in his mother’s home during the night, or fought to keep his wife out of lepers’ dirtied hands. When he slaughtered a mortal woman for attempting to run with Faye’s ill son (He has not yet told Faye of that incident, too ashamed of his frantic fear for the panting boy). Or even something as simple as being able to feed them.

He is proud of his ability to keep them safe from beings other than himself, but he cannot claim to be proud now, not when he can hear the boy’s hushed voice asking about the contents of their larders.

His mother responds in an equally quiet voice, offering exactly what her impotent husband begged her to. “Of course there’s enough, silly boy,” she ruffles his strip of hair as he giggles, vainly attempting to keep his voice down still. Maybe, in fear of what an angry Kratos might do.

“Though,” she continues, and this surprises Kratos. He lifts his head and finds himself staring into his wife’s eyes. He does not know what she will say and Kratos worries. “It’s just a snack. The rest will be saved for tomorrow, got it?” she whispers. Her son whines, as all kids do. But not all kids have suffered through the hunger pains he has, and is currently suffering through. Ultimately, the boy agrees.

Faye gives him their last strips of cooked venison and promises a more fulfilling meal later, “Perhaps tomorrow?” she smiles, conspiratorially. Kratos tries not to wilt into himself like a wildflower subjected to the strong winds of the north. His wife not only knew how incompetent he was, not being able to provide for his home, but so did her son. She even went so far as to set a deadline for the god. Has he been inadequate for so long?

Unable to appear completely unaffected, he winces, knowing he’s more behind than he’s ever been concerning food. If the gods here were anything like the ones in Greece, then they were laughing their asses off, surrounded by rich meats and cakes and drink. They’d laugh, while wiping the crumbs off their faces and onto the floor. He’d witnessed it many times during his stay with the pantheon.

Kratos loosens his fists and focuses on the fire’s embers. He should not bother them with his anger, not now. Not when he’s the cause for their own intense anger. Kratos drowns them out with thoughts and plans of how to keep his home alive. Plan after plan, all seem lacking when he considers what is at risk.

What will happen when his time is up? Will Faye leave? Oh, he hopes not; not into the biting winds. Atreus would not make the trip. So he thinks more, and more. He shakes, and shakes his head.

Wasn’t he clever, so long ago? Where is that general and his strategic plans? Then, Kratos remembers.

That man is long dead, perishing along with Sparta.

In his place is Kratos of Midgard. The god mourning the wife that will surely disappear into the night once she catches a stronger whiff of his limitations, and the boy so hungry he’d consider eating his own flesh if Faye would let him.

Kratos hears the snores of the boy. He relaxes, not feeling as watched.

Now that his body is slack, exhaustion slips through the cracks of the shield he had maintained throughout the day. Kratos looks away from the fire, only to see sunlight peeking through the hastily repaired roof. Kratos frowns at the beam and looks up further, meeting his wife’s eyes.

He wishes he didn’t. He wishes he’d kept his eyes where they were, but now it’s too late and his wife no longer has that smile on her face. Instead, it’s replaced with a nasty frown so deep it must hurt. “My love, do you feel alright? You have not eaten,”

“How could I?” he retorts, ignoring the snoring boy in her arms. He had to sleep on an empty stomach again.

“Kratos,” she continues, voice soft. “Do not push yourself,” she requests with a smile. Kratos has a feeling that if her arms were empty, she would’ve gathered him in them. It confuses him, but he does not dwell.

“I will check the snares”

Faye frowns once again. She seems to be doing it more often than not. “What? I only just set them out! You’ll mess with the scents I attached,”

“Then, I will hunt,” Kratos compromises. He cannot stay here, in this house. Not when he has a child to feed and a wife to please. Not when his wife cuts him deep with nasty looks veiled behind sweet buoying words.

She wishes to argue, he can tell. Kratos grabs a hatchet and one of the warmer furs they had (but still leaving the warmest) and leaves before Faye remembers how light her boy is.

As he leaves, he can hear his wife’s low and warm “Be safe, Kratos.”

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. In fact, he’s tried his hardest to lose track of where and when and why.

Kratos knows he is hungry. And he knows that in front of him is a rat feeding on a long-dead corpse. The rat is so plump Kratos can almost see it pop when it takes another bite of bruised flesh and chews slow. It seems to savor the taste; the flavor that, no doubt, is better than any scraps it’s had the fortune of ingesting.

It isn’t the first, and far from the last, time Kratos has seen flesh being gorged on. It also wouldn't be the first time he’d had the urge himself. Just seeing the rat have the privilege of such big bites has the god squeezing his fists and breathing heavier.

The noise is hard to miss, though the rat does not scurry back to its home. No, it cannot even risk it. It continues to eat, albeit faster; almost frantically so, as Kratos gets closer, like it knows this is the last time it’ll be granted such a delicacy. Soon, it is under his boot. It doesn’t squeak as it finally pops. Kratos briefly wonders if it had wanted to stop, but couldn’t find the strength. Had Kratos shown the rodent mercy by ending its life?

When he lifts his foot, it’s to a stain so large, made of only rat innards and bits of browned flesh. Kratos moves on but the image imprints itself in his mind.

As Kratos roams the ruins that make up the Wild Woods, he does not find any animals worth eating. Not even those unworthy of being consumed.

He does not find anything except rotting corpses turned dark from the chill. And draugr, who’ve long blackened and been reduced to almost completely soulless beings.

Kratos does not know much of Midgard’s gods, but to feed his son something so impure it oozes black blood should be a sin worthy of a fate worse than death.

----------------

When overworked soldiers were finally given reprieve, they would gather round a small campfire. Not that the warmth was needed, the sandy shores were not known for being cold, they would gather to tell sweet tales or eat or sleep. Though, it was quite unusual to do anything but sit there.

If they told stories, they were distracted; if they slept, they could wake up as a lost soul. If they ate, the others would get nervous. They would start to count the heads present. But that was a dangerous game, especially during a war.

Some of the soldiers were innocent, the only thing filling their stomachs being stale bread. Unfortunately, not all were merciful.

It was common knowledge to not sleep next to a starving man.

When overworked soldiers were given reprieve, they would gather round a small campfire. They would gather to tell sweet tales or eat or sleep. They would sit tightly together to stop hungry claws from stripping their throats of meat, stopping them from screaming out as blunt nails stabbed and clawed into their still warm flesh.

------------------------------

Kratos is covered in it. From his hands to under his fingernails, from the edges of his lips to between his teeth. It was everywhere. It stained him. If his poor boy ever found him like this, he wished he could say it was a mistake. He was out of his mind with hunger, he had no choice!

But he did, he realizes as he melts a hole through the thin layer of ice frozen over a winding stream. He slams his fists against the ice. Lightly at first, the thin morsels not enough to reawaken his strength. Then, angry, he cracks the ice to make a hole big enough for his head.

And he submerges his mouth and nose and ears into the hypothermic water. He forces himself to stay, even when, no, especially when his lungs start to burn.

In the end, he pulls his body up and out of the water. He cannot afford to lose his life, not yet.

The god can’t help but shiver at the gusts of chilling wind, the soaked fur doing nothing but aid the gods in punishing him. He staggers to his feet and continues his trek, not accomplishing what he wanted with the stream.

The yearning will continue because of his mistake. Kratos’s stomach rolls as he looks back to the desimates corpse stinking of burnt flesh. How much would it take? To make it stop.

His stomach is still full. His mind is clear, yet his conscience cannot say the same. But, it is too late to worry about that. Kratos must put his guilt behind him if he wants to focus, if he wants to sate his wife. If he wants to catch his prey.

Kratos waits, patient, on the balls of his feet, crouched behind vegetation to hide his figure. The animal senses his gaze, nostrils flared and braying, its ears pinned back.

The god tenses his thighs, ready to give chase. The animal rears high and makes enough noise to garner his prey’s attention. His prey lays a heavy hand on the donkey’s neck, trying its best to soothe the animal. It whispers words of encouragement, distracting itself from the rustling undergrowth.

The animal steps back, bringing his prey to full attention. “Who is there?” it shouts. Kratos readies his hatchet.

“I have nothing! Spare me!” it yelps into the trees. Kratos does not, in the moment, recognize the difference between the desperate Spartan soldier he once was and Kratos of Midgard.

The donkey’s incessant noise rises in volume as fresh gore splatters near its front legs. Kratos rises to his feet and steps over the shrubbery. The animal pulls and pulls at the rope attaching it to Kratos’s prey. Thankfully, the limp fingers do not give. He does not yet have the energy to chase after such an animal.

Its meat shall be a gift. It will provide Faye and her son the strength they need to make an escape from their disappointment and hunger.

The animal quiets down, but will not let Kratos approach it. The god pays it no mind, his attention instead focused on the steadily growing pond of red soaking into the dirt he stands on. He tries to hold himself back. He tries to stay on his feet, not letting his knees burrow into the dirt as his weight becomes too much. Instead of rushing forward, digging his claws into the dampness, he takes slow and steady steps toward the man. He doesn’t mean to lower himself as fast and desperate as he does, but it happens anyway. Kratos will realize this later and shame will overcome his body and mind, but now, nothing has ever mattered less.

He drags his heavy body toward the still warm man. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The tang in the air makes his stomach churn and his palms sweat. Kratos digs his fingers into the dirt to stop them from doing the inevitable.

It is inescapable, this hunger. Kratos thinks, somberly. He is reverting.

His stomach is full and his mind fog is gone. The trek back takes less time than it has in many moons. The god was no longer forced to take breaks from the extra weight of game, or his own insolence, mounted on his back. Now, the only weight comes from the meaty animal draped over his shoulder.

Faye will be pleased and the boy will be fed. He could not ask for more.

Ever since the flood, Faye has been acting strange– twitchy. Though, when it is mentioned, his sweet wife will do all she can to avoid it. ‘I’m tired, Kratos,’ she will say. ‘You’re still thinking of that?’ She’ll question with a curl of her lip. Kratos does not like to bother his wife, but this seems important.

She lays down the fabrics she was attempting, and failing, to mend. “You’re like a kit, Kratos. Hell, If a vixen heard your yapping, I'm sure she’d swoop in and rescue you from my depraved clutches!” Kratos ignores the jabs.

“Kratos,” Faye lays a light hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright? You’re- you look exhausted.” Kratos wants to lay a hand atop hers; he wants to savor the affection and burn the touch into his skin, but he cannot. He cannot touch her with his sullied hands.

He twists his body out of her hold. “I have brought meat. Enough to keep us fed,”

Faye pulls her hand away but keeps it suspended in the air. The shock is evident on her face. Kratos does not look into her eyes. He can practically hear Faye holding her words back. So she does not worry the boy, Kratos reasons to himself.

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cassynite · 1 year

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Uh. Just a really personal essay thing below the cut. I just needed to write and share this because it's been bouncing around in my head all day and I feel like if i don't i'm going to just explode or something!!

cw discussions of hoarding, death, illness, elder neglect

I am such an unsentimental person when it comes to keepsakes or mementos. I want to say part of it was as a reaction to my grandmother, who was a hoarder who put far too much emotional importance on physical objects. She would go on and on about some half-broken doll her grandmother had given to her, only for it to get lost in a room of trash. She took thousands of pictures, all the time, on disposable cameras that would never get taken to be developed, just lie to collect dust in a box somewhere.

Once, when we were attempting to clean out the garage full of nothing but 40-gallon bags stuffed with clothes that were moldy and hadn't seen the light of day in years, my grandmother had a breakdown, screaming and crying at us not to touch those things, that they were important.

I was sixteen and an utter asshole at the time. I'd told her, "Grandma they're just things. They're just objects."

And she told me: "Well things are all I have."

I had a very visceral, negative reaction to that. Mostly, it was hurt--did she not have me, the rest of our family? Did she not consider us more important than trash accumulated over years? I ultimately know it was more complicated than that, that my grandmother came from a very abusive and insecure household, and that hoarding was likely a coping mechanism. That she struggled a lot, but that she ultimately loved us all very, very much.

I mean, she didn't have to raise me. My parents were right there. When they told her that four kids was too much work and asked her to take over with my younger sister and I, she could have told them to deal with it, and she didn't. She told me she loved me constantly, that love was unconditional and she would always love me, and no matter our fights or my behavior she was always a support and I believed her when she told me those things.

But her hoarding was a cause of extreme stress my entire adolescence--her tendencies went to cats when I was about fourteen and that ended up being such a nightmare scenario, the kind you'd see in those awful news stories about hoarding houses, that I don't even want to touch on it more than to just say it happened, and it was bad for years. I couldn't see the value in anything she had, and therefore never cared enough to keep things of my own. I never cared about family heirlooms, didn't keep things after they broke and couldn't be fixed no matter where I got it from, and I didn't take pictures or care much about pictures that were taken. Souvenirs were pointless to me, and I struggle to remember any gift I've been given in my life.

In early 2016, long-term health issues including unmanaged diabetes, multiple strokes, and bouts of pneumonia finally left my grandmother incapable of taking care of herself, and when a fall caused some minor brain bleed they placed her in a care facility. It was her worst nightmare--she'd told us repeatedly growing up that if something happened like that to just let her die, that she did not want to waste away in a nursing home.

I only visited rarely. I was working on getting my bachelor's degree, I had just moved in with my partner, and the speech and memory issues caused by my grandmother's injury were profoundly upsetting to me; I often left visits crying. Both of my grandparents had been in hospitals and rehab centers multiple times before, and my grandmother constantly took me on visits to see church members who also were recovering from injuries, so I was very familiar with these places. The smell, the sights of people who might never recover from what put them there, and the dead-eyed stares of staff made me hate those care homes.

So I avoided visiting her, put it off. I would visit when she got better, I promised myself. And then in December of 2016, my grandmother caught pneumonia and died. I was there for part of the vigil when they took her off of life support, but had such a breakdown seeing her deterioration that I left early and did not stay with her when she passed. She'd had, I would learn later, multiple falls in the nursing facility she was placed at; that care home would close down a few years later due to investigations of neglect.

I cannot express how horrifying the entire ordeal was, or the shame I feel when thinking about this. If I had spent more time with my family, maybe I could have helped care for Grandma instead of her ending up in a care home. I could have helped manage her diet so she didn't have the drops in blood sugar that caused that first fall, the one that led to the initial brain damage. I could have looked more into the group homes when choosing which one to take her to, found the very present information regarding the one she was placed at and and pushed for one that wouldn't let her fall constantly, causing permanent brain damage and health deterioration. At the very, very least, I could have visited more, so that her last memories on this goddamned earth involved knowing that her favorite granddaughter gave a shit.

It's been years. My grandfather ended up also falling ill in 2018, multiple infections and bouts with sickness that landed him in a much better care home, where I visited more often. He was deeply self-reliant and chafed against the dependency but made friends and seemed to be alright there whenever I spoke to him. He was also vocally Very Done with living in general--he was nearly ninety--and told me multiple times that he liked seeing me but didn't need it, and to not worry about him. I think he knew I was trying to make up for something. Maybe he judged me for putting in the effort with him when I didn't with Grandma, who needed it so much more than he did.

When he passed in August of 2019, I had just started a new job and hadn't visited in a month. Somehow, his death was even worse, like I'd lost him and Grandma together all over again. The worst part for me, surprisingly, was months later, when my phone corrupted and erased every single picture I had. I didn't take very many, but I'd started to do more toward the end of my grandfather's death especially, and there were several pictures of both him and grandma that were lost forever. I was devastated.

I think perhaps my lack of sentimentality just came from the fact that I hadn't needed to be sentimental before. I could visit my grandparents at any time. My mother was dead but I'd barely known her; my father might as well have been dead for how much he cared to contact or visit us. I didn't have any strong connections that I wanted to be reminded of that i couldn't just renew at any point in time, and I took it for granted. The knowledge that I started to forget what shade of dark brown my grandmother's eyes were, or the old-time phrases my grandfather used to say all the time that I'd ingrained into my vernacular as a child, really hurt. It's like a thousand deaths, every time I realize that I have something less of them with me now.

This past Christmas, my eldest sister gifted all of us with flash drives. She had, in her spare time, scoured the internet and old photo albums for pictures of our family and had digitized everything she could find. She was apologetic about not buying something for us, but had thought we would appreciate it.

I only just started looking at those pictures today. I hadn't really had the strength before now. I don't really have the strength now, to be honest. I've been crying ever since I opened those pictures. Most are taken by my youngest sister and shows both of my grandparents during the last years of their lives; seeing pictures and videos of my grandmother after she sustained her brain damage hurts. But there are other pictures too, older ones, and it's stunning how much I'd really forgotten.

I could always tell when a picture was taken during a big event because my grandmother's hair would be permed. My grandfather was a classic "dad who didn't want the cat" kind of grandparent, and all of our animals adored him. My grandmother wore two different shoes to my little sister's high school graduation. My grandfather wore the same pair of brown pants for literal decades, to the point they were falling apart, because the company that used to make those pants no longer made the exact shade of brown he liked and he refused to wear any other kind.

I know what my grandmother sounded like again. I know, I remember, that she would always insist on saying "I love you" at least once a conversation. She always wanted to make sure we knew that.

I'm still not the most sentimental person. I couldn't really care less about souvenirs. But I take more pictures now, and keep the birthday cards with handwritten notes that my older sister sends me, because I feel conscious of the fact that the people in those pictures aren't always going to be there. I have my grandmother's wedding ring that I keep on a necklace, and I'm probably going to deal with a crying headache the rest of the day for looking at these pictures.

But it's worth it. It is.

#cassy bitches #just super personal stuff #just been crying all day and it's been super fun!!

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overobsessedfanboy23 · 5 months

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Episode 90 of Go Rush is the most painful Yugioh episode to me

This episode has put me in a state of grief and shock, similar to what I felt after my cat died, for days, to the point where I'm still recovering from the after effects as I write this. I'm gonna do my best to judge this episode fairly, and critique it for what it is, not what I may have personally wanted it to be. To be clear, I think this is a good episode. Maybe even a great one. I do have some genuine critiques (mainly with the dialogue so I admit it could partially be a language/culture barrier issue) but overall, it is a well put together episode and duelling wise especially, a fantastic arc finale to my favourite story arc of season 2. It just... came out Christmas Eve, a hard time of the year for me for personal reasons, and did something that was always going to destroy me personally. But, anyways, enough beating around the bush. I have a ton of thoughts on this episode that I really need to put in one place.

Spoilers below of course.

Like I said, the duelling action in this episode is amazing, one of my personal favourite duels in Bridge Era Yugioh. Honestly maybe someday when GR is fully released, I will declare it my favourite. I need more time with it to know for sure. Kuaidul is so at the top of his game with his perfected deck that Yudias had to steal Kuaidul's ultimate monster in order to fight back at all and even then, Kauidul was still able to defend himself and potentially make a comeback. He's a skilled duelist and a great villain and that's on full display this episode.

The only problem I have with this episode's first half is the opening theme playing over part of an episode once again. They did this at the end of Galaxy Cup and it felt ill-fitting there too but this episode felt even more forced as that song being played during a "triumphant victory" right before the turn this episode took was really distracting. The tonal whiplash honestly kind of disgusted me. The song is great, but you don't have to play it in the middle of the episode just because it's an arc finale, guys. If it doesn't fit, then it doesn't fit. Don't force it.

Other than that blunder though, the first half or so of this episode is high quality standard fun so had I not known better and seen the clips and screenshots before watching the entire thing subbed, I never would've expected the episode to go full on depressing. Yeah, Kuaidul was mentioned to be dying in the previous episode but Yugioh hardly ever permanently kills characters and every other Go Rush villain was allowed to live.

Surely, I don't need to lose sleep over this. Surely they won't kill him on Christmas Eve when he's only existed as a character for like four months and has so much more to give us. Surely Kuaidul will be okay-

.....oh

....Yeah, for me, I don't think there's a worse feeling than anxiously dreading something will happen but trying to insist it won't happen and you're just having anxiety only to have your anxiety proven right... This was the perfect storm of despair to completely destroy me and me personally since Kuaidul is a personal comfort character, saved the second season for me after it went to shit, and my favourite in Go Rush so understand that that is what my bias is when discussing this episode.

I've already made a whole post defending the scene where Kuaidul forcefully tries to fuse with Yudias. To sum it up, it was a life or death situation and Kuaidul was acting out of fear/self-preservation, Yudias was willing (though yes he did leave this unvoiced at first), and Kuaidul did let go of the fusion and accept his impending death because the fusion would, to some degree, hurt Yudias. I wish the reason and extent to how much it would hurt Yudias was more clearly explained. Maybe some line about how Kuaidul's decaying form (or the thing that gave his body form) will start to make Yudias decay as well would've helped because personally, I found the explanation the episde gave to be vague and confusing. Yugioh has confusing logic at times but I've never questioned the logic behind sacrifices like these. Antinomy and Ai's motivations and reasons for sacrificing themselves both made sense and I never questioned why they did what they did. Kuaidul meanwhile, I don't fully understand why he HAD to die. The fusion would've hurt Yudias, yes, but how drastically? Would it have eventually killed him or just hurt a lot? What would this "fusion" even have entailed? This episode vaguely implied Kuaidul was straight up trying to possess him but it never quite fully said that? For all we know, he would've ended up a harmless spirit vibing in Yudias's subconscious like Yubel or Astral were because fusions like this are just not explained in Go Rush's universe. Yeah, yeah, "show don't tell" but the visuals didn't give a concrete answer either, at least not to me. It felt weirdly vague and confusing.

Also, side note, I won't dwell on this too much because someone has already posted about it but this:

This is messed up in a way that I don't think Go Rush, which is aimed at a younger audience, is equipped to handle and should not be Yudias's reasoning. "If it will save you from death" was enough of a reason. That captures Yudias's astonishing compassion and selflessness perfectly and is far more subtle and emotionally resonant. I hate the implications of this line and it genuinely made me extremely uncomfortable when I saw it.

Anyways, the sacrifice. Despite all the under explaining, I obviously still felt the weight of Kuaidul's sacrifice and emotionally, I understand it even I find myself questioning the semantics more than I normally would with scenes like these. I do think if we knew the extent to how much Kuaidul was willing to hurt Yudias in his moment of impulsive fear, then him deciding not to go through with it would have added even more to his character. Still, I think the fact that he was willing to let go and accept his death makes him a better character. I think that was the only way that forced fusion scene could have been salvaged. Because, yes, if the episode had ended with Kuaidul forcing Yudias to fuse, sticking with it, and essentially getting away with it, this episode would be worse. I... would probably still like Kuaidul but I would definitely feel uncomfortable to some degree. However, I personally am able to fully forgive him because I understand that it was an act of impulse by a dying man that, after thinking about, he did decide on his own not to go through with. The scene played out perfectly for what they were going for. They went a direction I wasn't expecting but the direction made sense (despite being under-explained to me) and was emotionally effective.

Speaking of emotionally effective...

Okay, I won't lie. The first time I saw this scene (purely through screenshots), I was actually pissed. It immediately brought to mind Akiza being forced to forgive her abusive father and I felt like they were not just pulling that crap again but having it be the final note an immensely important comfort character of mine went out on.

....but I was already a crying mess when I saw this and now that I've regained somewhat of a clear mind and seen the full episode, my opinion has changed completely. The Creator is NOT on the same level of Akiza's father, not in the slightest. I still firmly view him and Kuaidul as a father/son relationship since the Creator... ya know, literally created him and Kuaidul craving his validation very much came across to me as a neglected child craving their parent's attention/approval. That's not explicitly spelled out by the show but keep in mind this is how I view it. From what we saw, Kuaidul had valid reasons to feel neglected, most notably episode 77 where the Creator left Kuaidul behind despite his cries. However, upon actually seeing the hug scene in motion, I realised that Kuaidul wasn't the one who initiated the hug. The Creator was:

And to me, that makes all the difference. He's offering a hug, a symbol of forgiveness and acceptance, which Kuaidul accepted instantly, with no pressure from anyone which was my main problem with Akiza's situation, because validation from the Creator was all he really wanted this whole time. That's actually quite cohesive and I'm glad Kuaidul's motivation wasn't forgotten or changed. Do I still think Kuaidul deserved more? Oh, absolutely. The Creator should've apologised verbally in some way. Maybe Kuaidul didn't need him to but I the viewer did dammit. At least if this is both their final appearances and isn't leading into something down the line (the Creator could just use him again, or it could be revealed to be a hallucination fuck-). Whatever, this hug was enough for Kuaidul and at the time of writing this, the scene is their final scene in the show and if this is truly where it ends for them, then I'm glad that despite dying, Kuaidul got exactly what he truly wanted all along.

I could nitpick it and the entire show's implications about the Creator into oblivion if I really wanted to but... I don't. My favourite character had a cohesive sympathetic narrative with a payoff, which is more than I've gotten from some other Yugioh series. For what it is, I like it and it resonated with me emotionally, which is the goal of fiction.

In fact, that's my take on the entire episode: it's not exactly what I would've expected or wanted but I like it overall for what it is. The reason I resent this episode so much is almost purely personal and not reflective of the episode's quality. I have issues with the episode, as I mentioned, but it's a good episode overall. The script just needed some tweaks.

It's a good thing Konami and Entame are taking a break after this episode. They deserve it, first and foremost, and I don't know if I'll be able to return to Go Rush even after their breaks end. I want to know what happens next but it'll be... hard after being hit with something this upsetting so suddenly during an already rough time of the year for me.

I want to return someday, but not if any part of me is still instinctively hopelessly crying out for Kuaidul's return only to be disappointed.

#yugioh go rush spoilers #go rush spoilers #yugioh go rush #go rush #kuaidul velgear #yudias velgear #go rush episode reviews #my feelings on the creator situation go more back and forth than this post would indicate but in a bubble I still love the hug scene

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givemaycoffee · 1 year

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It seems you're feeling better today. I'm glad! Have some more questions :)

11, 39, 47, 78, 90

I am! :) And capitalizing on it as best as I can. Thanks for more of these 🥰

11. Do you have any strange phobias?

I don’t know if it’s strange but I have trypophobia. It’s strong enough that I have developed coping mechanisms to deal with it. It can become like an intrusive thought once it’s on my mind. I filter for it on here, and I’m always grateful when someone I follow actually uses the tag so I don’t have to see it. I also haven’t bothered to internalize how it’s spelled (even tho looking at it now it’s really not complicated), but I have the word saved in my notes app because originally I had to Google it and let me tell you… not a fun experience!

39. What time is it?

Aha, speaking of geography. It’s 4:53 pm :3

47. Do you have any obsessions right now?

Not really! Thank goodness tbh. I hyperfixated on Fire Emblem: Three Houses pretty hard when I got into it (June or July), and went down the Dimileth rabbit hole first, then Sylvix. I’m still enjoying Sylvix, but it’s not compulsive like it was when I was well and truly hyperfixated. I’ve been avoiding finishing the CF route, tho, so I’m currently playing Spiritfarer.

78. Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Uh oh! You’ve unlocked Opinions™. The first of which is that insanity is a word I find uncomfortable because it isn’t an official psychological term anymore, it’s mostly used in law these days to indicate severe mental illness, and when the average person genuinely uses it to describe another person they’re often using it to demonize said person’s mental illness. However, I don’t think anyone involved here intended that, so I am just mentioning it because I have met a lot of folks for whom it is a word that personally hurts them, and thus I feel the need to say something.

To answer the actual question, I think it’s looking at it wrong, really. Rather than bringing on creativity, I think mental illness tends to result in unique experiences, both positive and negative, and art is an outlet for all of it. Van Gogh had what seems to be manic depression, and art was a way to express himself. Art therapy is very much a thing for folks with all sorts of mental illnesses. It allows you to explore life, yourself, whatever you want in a way that doesn’t require words (or does, if you express yourself through writing), and can maybe communicate some of what’s going on in your head to someone else who otherwise might have very little understanding. And it can even help you understand yourself, too, sometimes.

So yeah, I think ultimately unique experiences and perspectives make a person more creative, especially in the eyes of someone whose own experiences are very different. It’s all relative, baby! This is also why diversity is super important (beyond just being fundamentally a good thing), because diverse people have diverse ideas and diversity of thought leads to creativity and innovation :3

90. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

First of all - this one is hilarious. Secondly… cry. Fun fact about me, if a zombie apocalypse were to happen, I would like to die, thanks! Don’t wanna deal with it, too scary and depressing. Anyhow - after crying, I would probably do the boring thing which is see if they react to anything, including movement and speech, and go from there. If no movement, J and I get up and leave and probably call my in-laws because they’re the real adults around here. 😂

#oops it got long #asks #ask game #insomnikat-mused #may rambles #long post #trypophobia mention #not sure whether or not to tag any of the mental illness stuff? hit me with an ask (anon is on) if you’d like me to #the energy on this one is very different 😅#:) I always just want to do my best with how I think about and frame mental illness because society is already not great about it #and I figure everyone has things that they advocate for and while it isn’t my biggest one or one that I know the most about #it’s certainly one that I try to be aware of and speak up about when it comes up #but also the language is less important than the perspective I think #I don’t always know a word is problematic but I do always try my best to be understanding of people and their experiences - y’know?#anyhow #despite getting serious I did enjoy answering these :3 #I enjoy being made to think about my opinions and perspectives and whether or not they need to shift or adjust #Jennifer brown has a great model for measuring where you’re at on any given diversity topic #it’s a scale: Unaware -> Aware -> Active -> Advocate #I’m always trying to move myself along that scale as I become aware of new things #and no one has the capacity to achieve advocate in everything and that’s okay #oh I’ve rambled enough #thank you for asking more! I love it

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redsaurrce · 1 year

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Lmao come here raawwrrrrr 🦖🦖🦖

Really? I don't know if they are any good 😅 Like I have a direction in which I want to go but I do not have the ability to write my ideas down beautifully, to create my own world like you do hehe

Especially since even in my native language I have no talent in writing a nice story *snort* It just feels wrong? Like I go on and on without saying anything 🙀

I am good in providing ideas but writing is FAR from a talent of mine 😬

Awwwww I love you too 🥹🥺 You are so ADORABLE LIKE WHAT. Can I give you a nickname? Sweets? Cause you know you are so sweet? 🍬

YOU BETTER CHANGE YOUR ADDRESS THEN! YOU stop being so cute HABJHABUJDXAHUK

My poor heart can only handle so much 🥵

Hahaha you never know! Some people enjoy asks etc but some just don't care I guess? Plus people intimidate me especially if the blog is HUGE and interactions are minimal or not there at all 🙈

I will send my notes in a different ask okay? lmao it's a bit long 😂 Plus if it is bad you can answer to this but can ignore my notes and delete it 🤣

- Y ❤️‍🔥

Oh u lil dino 😩😩

No luv, I just read it and you can definitely write amazing stories!! In case u are struggling to build the background or story setting, I'd highly recommend reading more stories (which infact is suggested even by the best writers i've met on tumblr and even I have personally achieved more clarity on world building by reading more stories)

I think I can understand the feels so wrong part? Especially because of lesson 1 🥴 but I kept writing regardless and I think I have improved and so can you if you are looking for the defining edge to your writing!

Adorable? Not more than u tho 🥺 and.. and.. is that a confession?!? 😭😭😭😭 I love you too caramel 💗💗💗💗 oh sweets?? Look! Don't push me away once I'm charged with criminal record of trespassing ur house just to give you a tight squishy hug ☹️☹️☹️☹️💓💓💓💓

luggage? Packed!

Houses? Moved!

Address? Changed!

Hotel? Trivago caramel's pocket!

Ahahaha tho I might be guilty of dodging the loveshot asks like a bullet 😭😭😭😭

but if u feel good and not intimated by my ultimate rizz 😩 I won I guess 😏

Ill never delete it wot u sayyyin???😭

#♡ : Y #sweet anon 💟#ask gallery 💌

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shrunkupthejams · 2 years

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hello tumblr, good timezone! a little life update (which was written at 2am? and gets very rambly and long but *shrugs* i tried to break up the walls of text a bit):

1. did i disappear? yes. will i elaborate on that? not really, i don't feel like it. but i will say that once you take a break from social media it is really hard to go back. it's very freeing, and that made me worried about how tumblr would take over the little free time i have if i came back. also hyperfixations are a lot harder to not hyperfixate on when i frequently spend time on here. overall, idk how long i was gone for, but it was a very good, much needed break that was probably great for my brain.

2. idk if i'm back back yet. we shall see. again productivity is doing much better without any tumblr in my system, as much as i do love spending time here.

3. i have read some very inspiring fics lately and am having many writing thoughts! which is great bc i really fell into a slump that i haven't been able to get out of this year like... back in may, or whatever. unfortunately, i have no time between catching up on missing school work from being sick, my job, and fucking moving. so.

4. not very tumblr relevant, but oh my god im fucking moving. again. story of my life basically. it's. fine. just happened really fast and it's weird to process. im officially in moving limbo for the next two weeks. and that sucks. but it's ultimately good for my system, i think, because i was getting restless waiting for the usual regularly scheduled "big change" in my life, and that quota is now being filled and it's relieving.

5. dear lord i don't even want to look in my notifications.. if anyone tagged me in stuff while i was out... im so sorry but it's likely lost in the pile. avoiding my problems on social media is like my specialty, and my notes is currently one of those problems.

6. (if you see me unfollow a bunch of stranger things blogs (hello, i know some of those are mutuals), im sorry but i clogged my dash with st blogs so bad and i cannot afford slipping into that hyperfixation rn. i can't do that to myself. it's not personal or anything. so um. don't mind me haha.. i should really consider the state of my dash before i follow... but alas, i do not. one of the main reasons i typically avoid the hellscape that is instagram! oh and tbh, i knew it was time to come back to this hellsite when i started casually wasting like. an actual amount of time on instagram semi-regularly. that's when yk it's time to go like fuck i do not want to be in a place where i am wasting time on instagram of all places. wasting time on tumblr is at least tasteful. sorry artists of instagram ily but i simply cannot.)

7. ahaha watch me avoid my sideblogs after this (not that's incredibly relevant). i can only involve myself in social media so much rn...

8. more irl news: after, at least of 2022 and then some of saying i need therapy, i'm finally getting therapy! first appointment booked for this wednesday babey :) thank GOD. definitely needed this after discovering that apparently you can have grandfather issues, as if my current parental issues weren't enough.

9. another irrelevant irl update: i got my license! fucking finally! idk if i ever complained about that on here but YEAH. it feels like so much has changed since i was last active on tumblr..

10. as a final bit of news, since this got fucking long im so sorry, im trying out the name kurtis now. seeing how that fits :)

and um yeah that's how my life is going rn. ill try not to go off in the tags about anything, considering the length of this post. sure makes that relatively new dashboard post shortening feature come in handy tho! haha..

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chromaji · 2 years

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oh i really like how this scene looks… shadow & rouge look really nice here, and the nice sunset background… there’s also a slight texture over the characters i think? i like it.

Also it was funny recognizing this shadow face from that “it must suck teleporting with adhd” “how the FUCK did i end up in nevada” post. i’d been wondering where the images used there was from.

anyway i like that Shadow at least acknowledged that he, yanno, kinda fucked up a bit there. But really the whole metal virus arc was so “everything is happening so much” that it was like. bro they had to bust out the chaos emeralds & super forms to gaslight gatekeep girlboss their way out of this one hgkgh.

Like as cool as it was to see Super Silver after so long, the arc felt weird once it reached that point where Tails ALMOST had a solution and it just got blown up. Maybe im a lil biased towards Tails but it would’ve been cool to have an “eggman and tails are on an even level— eggman made the virus but tails engineers the cure” moment. A moment for them to be pitted against each other as geniuses even if not throwing hands in mechs. Then again im not sure how they’d spread the hypothetical cure around the world WITHOUT something like the super forms or some machine that would likely take a while to build… ehh, i’m sure some quick solution would’ve been figured out.

well anyway back to this scene, Shadow says this, which I’m assuming is either him deciding he’s gonna try and look for Sonic because he owes him one, or him saying “I DID owe him one… until he disappeared. Now what?”. Idk, the meaning of this line kinda has me stumped, but the meanings I had in mind could go hand-in-hand. Like… “I owe Sonic, but he’s gone. Should I look for him? He’s capable enough to find his way back, but…” ???

Anyway, the infamous metal virus arc… yeah I liked it well enough, just felt like things were getting a bit too stacked once they introduced the deadly six and needing to get the chaos emeralds instead of my goat Tails being able to do his thing. And you know… Shadow suddenly losing common sense to prove himself as superior to someone who’s already run off in issue 19 like come on now. My brother in christ, are you fr doing this in the middle of a zombie movie? I understand him feeling like he’d be immune to a virus, as he was created to be immune to illnesses n such as the Ultimate Lifeform. That’s one thing. But that whole part coulda been executed better…

And sidenote i really liked that Metal Sonic side-comic as a whole, but especially where he doesn’t get infected by the virus & just… stands there. Like there’s either a lot going on in his mind or he’s too stunned to have any thoughts. I’ve always liked Metal but smth about that side comic is bumping him up.

this kinda turned into a review of the arc I didnt even mean to do that lmao. idk when i’ll pick back up on idw, but im assuming there’s one or two more complete arcs before the current ongoing arc (which i think is at issue 53 at the time of writing this??), and i usually like to read arcs of things once its all released… eh i’ll figure it out

#i do not control how much i talk/write abt things that interest me #but also this is like THE arc ppl talk about when talking idw like cmon #sonic idw #sonic #im still in shambles over surge & kit not even being in the comic at this point YALL REALLY HAD MEEEE FR.#i legit thought they were introduced WITH starline. so when i saw him & no surge & kit i was like. huh?

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