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ryndicate · 1 year

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ A Drop in Time

Don’t listen too closely to the silence. It whispers things you don’t want to hear.

Vampire!Megumi x reader (fem body/pronouns)

notes: this installment was proofread by a friend who deserves all my love and i could wax poetic about them all night.... but here’s the first chapter! A true introduction to the world we live in. Also, just because he’s a background character in JJK, just know that Shouta was the dbag that was mean to Junpei lol, no relation to any other character cause I definitely used some names from other shows to name my other minor characters.

Warnings: non-sexual penetration, memories of physical assault, depictions of death/grief, descriptions of arranged marraige/misogyny, mentions of ye olde birth control, religious themes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules & Main Links

⋆⁺₊⋆ Prologue ☪︎ Masterlist ☪︎ Series Warnings ☪︎ ch. ii. ⋆⁺₊⋆

Something bright irritates your eyes and a terrible stench greets you as you stir, movements leaden.

"She's awake! Call the priest, quick!"

Your eyes blink open slowly, a fierce ache in your head making them flutter closed almost immediately. Your body feels on fire as you curl in on yourself, feeling much too stiff, brittle like old bones. You've never been in this much pain before, not even when you cut your leg on your father's tools as a child; the fever then almost killed you, according to your mother, but your memories of the time are broken at best. Sleep threatens your mind once more, blackness tinging on the edge of your vision.

"Little one, are you well enough to speak?"

Struggling, you look towards the familiar voice and make a final attempt to remain conscious. You've only met him a few times as he's the only priest for the few villages in this area. He makes time to visit for his duties once a fortnight. Everyone trusts him.

The wariness in his eyes is enough to fill you with unease. This man was present at your birth, and has never given you more than a firm scolding in your life. The grim set of his jaw is unfamiliar, wrong.

"Father?"

Your voice is small, dry and rasping, reminding you of the pain from the night before. Your throat burns, agony exploding across your senses as you wheeze and cough. Your hands immediately raise to cover the wounds on your neck, eyes growing hazy with tears. You can sense the others nearby looking on with curiosity, but too fearful to approach. Their wary stares fill you with panic.

"Dear child," An ounce of care filters into his tone, but it remains unyielding. "You must submit to an examination. You were bitten, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father." Your answer is swift and subdued. It is nothing short of a miracle that this opportunity is being offered. No one would have questioned the choice to dispose of you for the safety of the village.

"Peace be with you." He bows his head. "We will move you to the church. Try to be still and send your prayers to above. We plead for the Lord's mercy today, should we be fortunate to receive it."

Father nods to two young men hovering nearby and they rush forward as if grateful for a task, bundling a sheet over you and carefully raising you between them. Through the gaps of the frayed fabric you catch sight of rising smoke, and realize with growing horror that the awful stench is that of burned bodies.

You close your eyes tight in hopes of erasing the horrifying image, wincing as their uncoordinated movements jostle your wounds, and try to gather your strength for whatever is coming.

The church seems prepared for your arrival, several of the sisters who accompany the Father moving around to prepare a table with an assortment of items.

You try to be mindful as they hover, murmuring prayers, sprinkling waters and oils over you, clutching your fingers over the silver cross they’ve pressed into your hands, but your mind keeps drifting to the horrors of last night. It’s struggling to remember hazy details, but primarily in a daze over the fact that you’re somehow still alive.

It’s a short moment before you realize the sisters have shuffled out, the cross slack in your hands as your eyes refocus to see Father gazing at you, somber. Fear jumps to your throat at the shadow in his eyes, suddenly fearful to speak. Are you condemned?

His eyes avert from yours. "One last thing."

You jump uncomfortably as he steps closer, his fingers closing on the hem of your nightgown.

Realization strikes you in an instant, paralyzing awareness.

"Father, please no," you beg him softly, panic lighting your eyes. "It did not, I swear on my life."

"Little one, I must." There's an air of discomfort surrounding the old priest now. "This is for your sake as well. We must clear your name of any rumor."

"I'm begging you," you whisper. Shame twists your features, hysteria bubbling hot in your chest as the heat of embarrassment is added to the brew of this nightmare.

He pauses, solemnly reading your face. "It was Shouta?"

You nod, tears beginning to streak down your face to be acknowledging it. You wipe them away hastily, too overwhelmed to realize you’ve only wiped the soil of your gown down your cheeks.

"As long as what you say is true, then I will tell no one."

"Do you promise, Father?" You daren't hope. Shouta and you both had known the damage that could be done to your image if your intimacy had gotten out. He'd persuaded you sweetly at first, then persistently. After a time, you'd reluctantly allowed him, in favor of earning his approval instead of his ire. He was to be your husband after all, ‘til death do you part. So you'd been careful, meeting him discreetly and taking the tonics the neighbor’s eldest daughter had gotten for you at the price of teaching her her letters. She wanted to attend school at the capital and now you’re wildly wondering if she’s even alive.

But for all the care you’d taken, you couldn't hide your shame from a priest.

"You're safe with me, child. Vows taken or not, you are sworn to him. You are a good woman, and you will be a good wife for Shouta. He chose well in you, and this will not reflect on that. The Lord knows your heart; it is not my place to cast judgment."

It had been your parents that chose him, but you remain silent. It would not serve you well to be any more honest now. Your father is away now, Shouta at his side, as they apply for a marriage certificate in the capital. Marriage… The man your father chose is a respected one, the village leader's son. You don't know if you will ever feel love for him, but you do know your life will be lived well at his side, lacking for nothing. You would never dishonor your father by rebuking the life he planned out for you.

Discomfort burns in both of your cheeks as the priest proceeds. As much as you know it to be necessary, it leaves a poor taste in your mouth. But if having the backing of the village's respected priest is what you need to return to your quiet life, then you can suffer this. The last thing you need is the hateful and fearful rumors that you might be with child by a monster.

"It is done. You are well, my dear. Let us see to your wounds."

"Thank you, Father." You can't help but slump in relief, weariness setting in now that your safety is assured.

At his call a couple of sisters reenter the room and immediately begin fussing over you. Father bows and makes his exit, and they promptly strip you of your soiled nightgown. You are not sorry to see it go, the stiff fabric bloody and unsalvageable. As they dispose of your clothing in the hearth, you manage to voice some of the things you’ve been wondering about. They answer softly, informing you that it’s almost been two days since your attack. The priest has been monitoring you, afraid to move your body for fear of worsening your condition. It had been his call to leave you untouched, making no attempt to inspect your wound, to allow your wound to clot. The decision had been a risky one, but it had probably saved your life.

There's profound relief on the women's' faces that eases some of the ordeal, and you allow your eyes to fall closed as they brush a warm, wet cloth over your wounds and skin, content to be in someone else's care even if just for the moment. Your body aches after nearly two days of sleeping on the bare ground. You want nothing more than to fall asleep somewhere comfortable after this. You can’t stop thinking about the blanket your mother had received from her relatives last winter. Thick, soft, and made from animal pelts you hadn’t seen before, it’s the softest thing you’ve ever touched. To fall asleep under that now would be bliss.

Thinking of that blanket has your thoughts wandering towards your mother. You wonder briefly if your parents and Shouta will hear of this incident before their return, or if you will have to tell them yourself. You don't look forward to reliving the experience for their sake.

"Come, young miss. We drew an herbal bath out back. It will be cold, but twas the best we could do."

The water is bracing, but you're more than used to it. Whatever herbs they cast into it tingle along your skin pleasantly, relaxing you, and washing the grime from your skin helps you feel more clean. You can only hope it will help wash away the memory of the demon's touch. His hands were almost like fire. You shiver.

One of the sisters notices and tuts. "Oh poor dear, come now. Let's finish up and get you warm and dry. Father has asked us to accompany you to your home for the evening in case you have need of us."

"Thank you," you murmur softly, standing from the water and taking the clothes they offer you. Despite your wish to be alone, you have no doubt you'll be grateful for their presence. It will be much easier to brush off the old creaking of your home on them moving about instead of letting your fearful imagination run wild.

You wrap the worn shawl around your shoulders more tightly as they accompany you towards your home. There are still men about, busy cleaning up the mess of the attack. Some glance at you warily; others nod and continue with their work. It seems news of your examination is traveling slowly, but the overall mood of the men you pass is enough to make you hopeful that all will be well soon. Everyone looks focused on rebuilding your quiet little village.

"Of those attacked, were there any more survivors?" Beyond the loss of the baker's daughter, you know of no one else who had been lost. You're grateful all of your family had been away for the attack.

The women look forlorn as they exchange glances. "Not many, we're afraid. Most had wounds too deep, others were in danger of turning. There are a fair few missing as well. You were very lucky, miss."

The words feel thin. Lucky is not how you would describe nearly dying, held down and helpless at the hands of a monster—but you suppose there are no good words to describe such a thing.

"I apologize for the mess, we were not expecting visitors." The etiquette slips from your lips automatically as you show them inside. Your home is humble, but well built. Your father works a steady trade, and he saw to it that the house is well-maintained.

To distract yourself you help see to their accommodations, pulling out linens for their bedding. You fear if you remain idle…his voice will haunt your thoughts.

You will not suffer needlessly.

You close the closet door more fiercely than you mean to, chills covering you from head to toe.

How dare that monster say something so horrific. How were you meant to not suffer when he drank from your flesh? The pain of that encounter very well may follow you to the afterlife.

You make your way back to the sitting room to find that the women had made themselves busy stirring the hearth. The warmth is most inviting and you will yourself to relax.

"There isn't much here for now, but there is bread in the kitchen and enough to make a light stew. I can make enough for us all."

The appalled expressions on their faces is almost comical.

"Heavens no!"

"We're here to tend you, miss! You've suffered something terrible, you should be resting."

After their sharp demand, they wave you towards a chair near the fire until you sit, straining your ears to hear the hushed voices as they bustle about your kitchen. They seem to still be worrying for your health and the few others who are in recovery. Your fingers brush delicately against the bandage on your throat, wincing at the lingering pain. You're not used to being taken care of in such a manner, not since your mother had taught you to care for the house and how to prepare meals.

She had gone with your father to the capital, ever the dutiful wife. Before she had left, she had told you to enjoy the few weeks of peace before Shouta's return. She seemed to recognize the lack of personal attachment you felt for the union. This small time for yourself has been a gift from her to you.

It's not long before the attendants return, placing a small bowl of stew in your hands. The vegetable broth is soothing, the added warmth in your stomach making your eyes droop as fatigue settles over you. As they help you to your room you're grateful for their assistance, but you find yourself longing to be alone once more. One of them refastens your window, the one you had climbed out of last night when you’d heard someone enter through your front door. Even after they leave the room, you cannot help yourself from tiptoeing over to the sill and making sure the latch is tight.

You would never be able to sleep without checking for yourself.

The morning comes far more quickly than you'd like. You wake feeling unrested, moving slowly. You’re certain there are unsightly circles under your eyes, but when the ladies ask how you're feeling you fix on a smile and tell them you're feeling much better. There wasn’t much sleep to be had when the echoes of groans filled your ears, and every small shift sent your body aching.

Breakfast is not a big affair, just plain porridge before you send them on their way. Despite the fatigue of your body protesting every step of the way, you spend most of the morning tending the house, clearing out dust, washing the linens, and cleaning the floorboards. Afterwards you sit in the sun pouring through the open window as you eat a light lunch, more tired than usual from your affairs. Sweat beads across your brow from the exertion but you wipe it away without complaint, along with your tears.

It feels like you've not stopped crying since you awoke yesterday afternoon. Any time you find yourself with what should be moments of peace, his groans fill your ears, his breath dusts on your neck and you feel the ghost of a body right behind you. Your wrists still ache from his crushing grip and your neck twinges with pain every other moment. Unable to bear the silence, you heave yourself to your feet and march to the front door with purpose in each step.

Even if you're tired and your chores have finished, surely with everything that's happened there's more work to be done. Wrapping a shawl around your shoulders, you push out the door.

The village is bustling with activity as you make your way toward the main street, but everyone is subdued. Grief is all but tangible in the air, eyes downcast and lips set in frowns. Even the children aren't running about, clinging to their mother's skirts or each other's hands.

You make your way into the market and catch the eye of the young nephew to one of the farmers. He's stopping each passerby and offering something from the basket at his side. Curiously you make your way towards him.

He turns to you as you approach. "Do you need any?" He tilts the basket towards you gently, showing you a mound of eggs. "Uncle said with everythin', folks’ chickens probably wouldn't lay, so he sent me out with the extra. You can have some."

"I don't need any, but thank you. I was actually looking to see if anyone needs my help."

"You could always ask the market marm, 'm sure she'd know," the boy says thoughtfully, "But I heard Mama say the weaver was killed, and the husband has his hands full with the kids and the shop. You could check on him." He pulls a cloth from his pocket and carefully places five eggs in it before tying it. "I was gonna go that way later but here, take these with you, 'm sure he'd 'preciate it."

Thanking him, you accept the makeshift package and your feet carry you towards the weaver's shop. You can hear the wail of an infant before you even open the shop door.

Cautiously entering, you peek around to see the weaver's husband bouncing a toddler on his hip, another child tugging on his trousers as he tries to break up what appears to be an argument between his two eldest. The young boys are screaming at each other, faces ruddy and pinched with anger.

"It’s your turn—"

"I did it yesterday—"

"No you didn’t, you rotten little—"

"Boys!"

A small hand curls around two of your fingers, causing you to startle silently. You look down to see a young girl, no older than four, looking up at you tearfully. You recognize the weaver's youngest daughter and click your teeth in sympathy when she reaches for you, a silent but clear request to be picked up, and haul her into your arms. She clings to you, her soft curls brushing your cheek.

"It's okay, little one," you sigh, adjusting her weight and clearing your throat, making an attempt to make your presence known. Raising your voice is no longer a simple feat. "Excuse me—"

The beleaguered father finally notices you, his eyes filled with frustration at his children's behavior. "Toshi, Gin!" he snaps at last, loud and gruff in a manner that makes both boys freeze and hunch their shoulders. "You know better to behave like that in front of customers, apologize to the lady."

Both boys glance at you and duck their heads, muttering apologies that you don't quite hear as the toddler in the man's grasp begins to wail, frightened by his raised voice.

"I'm sorry, miss, but now might not be a good time. If you'd like to come back I'm sure I can help you find—"

"It's okay sir, I actually came by to see if you might need anything?"

Your words are timid, almost coming off as if you're making a request. His blank stare causes your cheeks to heat up, and you stutter, searching for something else to say. "One of the farmers also sent these eggs. They had some to spare."

A little awkwardly, you hold out the makeshift parcel until he readjusts his hold on the tyke in his arms and takes it from you, appearing just as awkward as you feel. After a short moment, he clears his throat.

“Gin, take this and put it up in the kitchen.” He places a palm on the head of the girl still clinging to his clothing. “Hime, go help your brother. Toshi, take the little one and put him down for a nap please.”

The young girl nods silently and takes Gin’s hand as Toshi takes the youngest. They all trudge off, glancing back at you as they go before they disappear around a corner of the shop.

“Here, I’ll take her,” he offers, but the girl clings to you tighter, whimpering into your neck. “Come now, Yachi.”

A look of consternation crosses his features when she doesn’t listen, tucking herself deeper into your neck. You wince as she presses into your bandages, but you’re quick to assure him. “It’s fine sir, I don’t mind holding her.”

He grunts at that, but relents, eyeing you cautiously. “You’re that girl from the other day, aren’t you? The one that—” he glances at Yachi, “—that the priest visited.”

“Yes, he said everything was well.” You duck your head nervously, but he only shrugs, looking off to the side. Apparently he trusts the word of Father as much as you do.

“What’s yer name?”

“Rumi, sir.”

“Hm. And what is it that you said you came for?”

“To see if there’s anything I might be able to help with. I heard in the market that…” You trail off, glancing down at the child in your arms. You’re not sure how much the little one would understand of what transpired during the attack.

Grief glitters in his eyes, and he appears to be struggling to answer you when the eldest comes tramping back into the room. “We finished Pa. Gin and Hime are playin’ in the room with—”

“Toshi, can you take Yachi? I need to speak with the little miss.” There’s a small break in his voice that you think the elder man hides well, but the seriousness on the boy’s face makes you think twice.

The boy might very well be less than half your age, but he appears to carry himself with responsibility. You assume he gained such a trait as the eldest of his siblings.

“Let’s go Yachi,” his voice is much softer when he speaks to her, “Gin’s telling that story you like. I bet he’d start over if ya asked nice.”

Yachi peeks at him, her eyes still wet, but after a short glance at you, she nods and allows him take her from you. He only struggles with her weight for a second before his step bounces in playful exaggeration and her giggles at his antics carry throughout the shop even after they leave the shop floor.

“You have a very lively family. They seem to get along well.” It’s a paltry attempt to fill the silence that stretches between you, but he still gives a nod of thanks at your words.

“They’ll need to, to get through this,” he mutters gruffly, running a hand through black hair flecked with gray. He’s a well built man, who looks like he’s no stranger to the labor trades.

“I’m sure they’ll—”

“I haven’t told them about their Mama,” he interrupts you suddenly, looking you in the eye.

Your shoulders stiffen as you realize what he’s saying.

“They didn’t see it,” he continues, speaking low in case the children might be trying to listen in. You step closer to help him in this, allowing him to speak even more softly. He unravels the bandage you hadn’t noticed on his forearm, showing you the wound that nearly matches your own. “I didn’t see it. The bastard got to me first, but it wanted her. Hit my head, and I was so out of it that I couldn’t… She got them all hidden away in the pantry before runnin’.”

“I’m so sorry.” Horror and nausea swirls in your gut as you picture the scene, the helplessness of it all.

Shame and misery etch themselves to the lines of his face so deeply it was as if they’d always been there. “I found shreds of her clothing in the morning. Covered in blood. I c-couldn’t tell the little ones, I couldn’t. How do you tell a child their Mama was—” he inhales shakily. “I told them she’s helping the priest, but I think Toshi is beginning to realize what really happened. He’s old enough that I can't hide these things from him.”

"He's a strong boy, I can tell," you murmur softly. Your stomach heaves as you realize she met the end that you so narrowly escaped. That it could have been you, naught left but a puddle of blood for a loved one to discover. Swallowing tightly, you try to keep your voice steady and reassuring. "He'll help you take care of the little ones."

“He shouldn’t have to!” the man snaps fiercely, causing you to flinch noticeably, wincing as the sudden movement twinges in your neck. An awkward expression of regret paints his features. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t right of me—”

“No! It’s fine,” you murmur softly. This man has been through enough. Of course he’s on edge. “Just please, um…” You realize you can’t quite recall his name, though you’re certain you’ve heard it around the village before.

He sighs, softening considerably, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as he makes an effort to pacify himself. “The name’s Shin, Miss Rumi.”

“Shin, sir, please just let me know what I can do to help you. I’ve nothing else to do with my time but sit at home. I’d rather be useful.”

Shin regards you carefully. “I suppose, if you’re offering… the shop.” He glances around wearily, and you belatedly notice there are half-packed crates and parcels everywhere. “I’m packing everything up, but it’s a lot to handle on my own. Toshi wanted to help but I need him with the littles ones.”

“Of course.”

Grateful for something to do you set to work, carefully folding textiles and lining boxes with spools of thread. Shin works beside you, mostly silent save for some sparse instruction when you lose track of where to start next, wrapping a series of tools and devices with purposes that escape you. He’s so delicate with them that you are certain of their importance to the weaver’s craft. There’s so much to be done, you’re not sure that he would ever have managed to do this without assistance. When the light begins fading, only half the shop has been put away.

“Rumi.” Shin glances outside, his eyes shadowed as they fix on you. “You should get on home before it gets any darker.”

Anxiety prickles at your skin at the idea of being out after dark. Alongside the obtrusive fear of what creatures might still reside in the shadows of your little town, you also don’t wish to be caught by rumour, staying overnight with the now unbonded man, so you gather yourself to go. Hastily giving your goodbyes and promises to return, you dash out the shop door and hurry back down the streets toward your home. The shadows of the setting sun seem more imposing tonight, and the streets are already quiet despite the long lingering orange light. It leaves you unnerved, and the tension refuses to sink from your limbs until the front door is securely locked behind you.

The house is too quiet now, and you find yourself wishing for the sisters’ company as you go about what has been your nightly routine since your parents and Shouta left for the capital. You make a sparse dinner for yourself, having neglected to go to the market this morning, clean up, and draw yourself a bath, spending the extra effort to heat the water. While the fire crackles you carefully unwrap the bandage from your neck, unable to look at the bruising of your throat, the redness of your wound. You’re quick to apply the salve the sisters left you, and cover it with a fresh wrap, tears threading your lashline at the persistent pain.

It’s an effort to distract yourself. You know it, as you spend extra time making sure you’re entirely clean, scrubbing as much grime from under your nails as you can until the water grows lukewarm, and eventually cold as you sit, pondering. Shin had kept a careful hold of his grief today, but such a deep emotion can never be completely buried. Your heart aches for the man, despite how little you knew him and his children. You wish there was something you could say that would soothe his heart, if even a little.

You wish your mother were here. She might know what to say to a grieving husband. You have such little experience with such a thing, but your mother knows more of the world than you, has lived much longer. Surely she’s comforted at least one grieving person.

Sighing, you step from the basin, and begin to dry and dress yourself for bed. There’s nothing left to look forward to tonight, no warm wishes for your dreams from your mother, no kiss on the cheek from father—something you’d complained about every day since you became of age, but now you miss both terribly. As you settle in your bed for the night, tucking your covers more tightly around you, you’re grateful for the fatigue that now rests over your body more securely than any blanket. It numbs the ache of your healing wounds and carries you to sleep faster than any fairy.

a/n: next chapter we get to meet one of the support leads, i wonder who it will be? :3

Reblogs are appreciated!

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk series #series::ADiT

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boston-babies · 5 months

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Ryan I don’t think you can comment on dbag poses…shall we pull up your instagram?

Good job on the island question though. I never would have expected a logical answer from you. 😆

I have no idea what you’re talking about, my Instagram is totally fine and not filled with pictures like that at all🤣-Ryan

I think we were all shocked that Ryan gave a logical answer to the island question😂-Brayden

Why is everyone acting like I’m a dumbass? I know things🤣-Ryan

Because you are a dumbass Ryan🤣-Chase

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thedeviljudges · 1 year

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I posted 2,423 times in 2022

786 posts created (32%)

1,637 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@yilinglaozu

@technitango

@winteams

@kyunsies

@highflyerwings

I tagged 2,406 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#x - 2,320 posts

#the devil judge - 605 posts

#kang yohan - 191 posts

#gahan - 115 posts

#me - 98 posts

#bad and crazy - 96 posts

#monsta x - 94 posts

#kim gaon - 93 posts

#answered - 83 posts

#text - 79 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#and just fyi i wasn’t trying to imply that yohan doesn’t think formal is completely useless so i hope my response didn’t come off that way

My Top Posts in 2022:

what really gets me, and has for all of these years, is that the dbags have really said that billy, a teenager, an 18 year old, is irredeemable despite their actions saying otherwise. listen, i love steve, and i love harringrove, but what does steve have that allows him to be redeemed for being a dick in season one that billy doesn’t? do we want to compare who was worse and claim that billy’s actions were the bigger of two evils? okay, sure, let’s do that, but at 18 and having treated people not so kindly (bc of abuse, i’m not saying he’s bad, bad, just go with me here), does that still warrant his death? to be looked at unfavorably? when the average lifespan of an adult is far beyond the years billy got to see and live, years for personal development and reflection for those deeds and how he treated max? tell me how any of that makes sense? bc i s2g if an 18 year old acted like that, i would hope, for the sake of humanity within us all, he’d still have an opportunity to become a good person in society and heal from the wounds that caused those initial reactions to begin with. because that’s what we hope from people, especially teens who have not yet reached the stage of development, and have a life ahead of them to be the person they truly want to be.

ive said this for years now, especially after st3, the dbags can go fuck themselves, and their shitty writing. i understand not wanting to make a show super deep in meta, but at the very least, make your story and your characters make fuckin sense.

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My #1 post of 2022

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Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#year in review #x #fjwiekdfj is anyone shocked lmaooo

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rae-gar-targaryen · 5 years

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I'm lost. What's going on with Ansel Elgort?

Here’s the thing. He hasn’t done anything… lately. Except post a veritable spree of selfies on his Instagram. My hatred of Ansel Elgort, while definitely irrational, is rooted in some rational places. For example:1. He has a DJ alter-ego. That DJ alter-ego calls himself “Ansolo.”

2. When asked what his favorite song was at the moment, he legitimately replied “probably some EDM song you wouldn’t know.”

3. His generic, Germanic, hairless face is permanently affixed in a smug, punchable look of douchebaggery.

4. He talks about basketball with a self-importance only someone terrible at basketball could have.

5. Does he understand metaphor? I don’t think he does.

All that said, did I enjoy Baby Driver? Yes. But I think that’s more to do with everyone who was in it who wasn’t Ansel Elgort.

#ansel elgort #my nemesis #anti dbag discourse #rachel answers #anon asks #ama

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agameofsouls · 6 years

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💓 for Belial

PRE ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS // accepting.send me a ♡ and I’ll bold what I want to see with our muses and italicize things I may be open to! (send “heart!” if the symbol is unavailable)

our muses met: as children | as teenagers | as adults | just recently

#( answered )#look just think about it #best friends that r sometimes dbags to each other when they've been too friendly for a while #they party together #like hard effing core #and it's a great time u know #but if you want to do other things let me know ok #praedatum

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darkangel0410 · 6 years

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I have a legit question, and I'm not sure if anyone still following me knows the answer to this, but I am actually curious, so:

I saw a couple posts complaining about the NHL promoting Patrick Kane for the ASG over PK Subban, and I'm not sure what they're talking about? Is it the the 'three reasons you should vote for ____' posts? Because I've seen only one of those for each of them. Is it that? Or something completely different that I just haven't seen yet?

#thanks in advance #also please don't be a dbag if you do happen to answer #patrick kane #pk subban #asg 2018 #that's hockey baby

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lowlights · 2 years

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FIRST OF ALL, hello ily. second of all, i am here for shippy things and i'll make this brief ok: i'm in my 30s, i have two cats who are basically my children, i write A LOT, i am easily distracted by almost anything, i play video games in my free time. i'm 5'5", long brown hair, green eyes, a chunky queen. my favorite thing to do is sit next to someone and scroll tiktok while they're ignoring me for their own activity while also maintaining physical contact. ok ily thank u BYE.

My darlingest Birdie.

Believe me when I say I could pair you with about six different Pedro boys and make the case for each. But in the end, there can only be one.

It was always going to be Dinjamin D. Djarin.

Your wit would attract him first. Your snark would make him chuckle under his helmet, and he would be grateful that you couldn't see his smile or the way he can't take his eyes off of you. Because right after he notices your sharp mind, he's taking in your soft curves. He would watch you reach for something up high and mutter dank farrik as your shirt would ride up, before walking over and getting it for you himself.

He knows you could do it by yourself, but he wants to help you so badly- this is our acts of service boy. Of course he's going to reach that thing for you, he loves you. Of course he bought you a weapon, he loves you. Of course he is going to go without meals without telling you when the food runs low, he loves you.

Words are a funny thing for Din. He still isn't used to a lot of them coming out of his mouth in any great quantity, but for some reason he feels compelled to share more things with you than he ever has before. You would ask him questions and be truly interested in the answers, and he wouldn't have to wonder what your motives were. He also wouldn't have to worry about you taking offense to how blunt he is sometimes, you just get each other. Din doesn't need words to make you realize how much he loves you- he will worship your body given any chance.

I think Din would love how you care for and adore the creatures around you. No animal or person is lesser-than (unless it's a human being a real dbag- you don't stand for those), and Din appreciates that quality so much.

Din would love, love, love how you can spend time doing your own thing with him. I feel like he would be so smitten with how you're happy leaning against him while you play oh a holopad while he cleans his weapons or something like that. You also definitely sat back to back to eat food together before he took his helmet off for you, which he would confess later was when he fell in love with you.

Din is the person you need when there's a storm- or any sort of crisis, small or big. He wouldn't make fun of you for being afraid of something. He promised to protect you and take care of you- that means throwing himself in front of you when needed, but also holding your hand when you're scared or flying you across the galaxy to get you the baked good you're craving.

He's going to beg for you to read him your novel and ramble about your niche character HCs. He would be so proud of you. I'm sorry to ramble on about you and Din, but I've been thinking about this for days and I'm so excited. I hope you like. ILY.

#look at his face #our sweet din #din djarin #character match #500 follower celebration

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

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Nope I'm apparently not sleeping.

So it's not all bad. Obviously. We had jackles and we had misha and they chatted and said some pretty cool things. Their people skills are rusty.

The thing with the fan at the end there - awful. Don't think it was intentional, does that make it better? Not really, but they're not dbags to knowingly do stuff like that, they're usually very gracious about people's feelings and supportive etc. Immature, not cruel. Still. Fudge.

But also yeah, it's all just... a roller coaster. I will mint these feelings into art later on I'm sure. I threw a tissue box (what a rebel I am, i know) during the panel.

<3 <3 I just answered your prior ask. The ending was absolutely horrendous, but I truly believe it was a horrific accident and it will be rectified - if not by EVERYONE, then at the very least by Misha. I put this on the bird app but I think prior cons and precedent show that these types of questions are generally taken extremely seriously with gravitas by the cast. Someone posted a video of Misha hugging J*red after the interruption and it seemed like he was telling him something, so hopefully it had to do with the situation. But either way, I trust Misha to make things right (despite him being the last person who should be carrying that obligation in this scenario).

I hope that fan is okay. I hope that if they are on this site they know how many love and support them.

#you-cant-spell-subtext-without-asks #thepixelagora

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lvcygraybaird · 3 years

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my dbag geology professor spent like 5 minutes essentially mansplaining to me and my group why its easier to rewrite equations for the variable you want instead of just plugging it in, it was r=d/t lol and the whole time i was just like. but is the answer right???? its right right? so why the FUCK does it matter hgfhjdsjfjkfs

#dont reblog lol #hes trying to teach to the lcd of math education which for once surprisingly isnt me lmao and i get that but like. if i dont need to do it #that way leave me alone?????#t #p #x

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alyjojo · 2 years

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January ❄️ 2022 Monthly - Gemini

Whole of your energy: 10 Cups

Though the rest of the cards seem intimidating, this card is the happy fairy tale ending. You’ve gone through a painful transition it looks like, and come out of the other side, with Justice, and new inspiration, passion, your full wish fulfillment, true happiness. Whatever has led to this point already seems worth it, let’s hope so anyway.

What’s going on in January:

Death:

At some point, there was a lot of daydreaming going on regarding a lover and some new opportunity, or a lot of options or thinking there are some. You may not have seen something clearly in this matter, whatever it was you were expecting didn’t work out, and put you into Hermit mode, searching yourself for answers. This seems like the past, because Death is signaling this Hermit period is over now, and is followed by Justice, this is a fair and just decision to move on, towards your 10 Cups.

Justice:

A fair and just decision made, either by you or someone else. There is a lot of healing in this row, we have The Star and 4 Swords, something has put you through the ringer, and Queen of Cups rev shows your emotions being all over the place. You’re probably the giver, the lover, the mother, the one cleaning up everyone else’s mess while the fools just keep on making them for you. You need self love, self care, and a bit of detachment from whatever has you feeling this way, I’m going to assume the douchey King that comes next. 9 Wands at the bottom shows you strong enough and willing to put in the work, to fight again, to get to the finish line where you need to be, but really you’re just exhausted, and it’s justified.

King of Wands rev:

The passionate leader turns into a selfish, ruthless, and manipulative dbag when rev. He will do whatever you want, as long as he’s getting his way, or whatever it is he wants, and really that’s where his care stops. Aggressive, controlling, and a terrible leader, he’s got a lot of ego and not a lick of follow-through. This could be a way you were acting, or someone else, possibly even in the family, but they’re coming to Justice. It is clarified by some great cards. 6 Pentacles, King of Swords, The Hierophant. Equal give and take, giving or receiving gifts, reciprocity with yourself or another person in a marriage, contract, religious nature or conservative institution. It seems like some sort of sick jealousy involving this King of Swords, which could be you, it’s your card. The Devil at the bottom puts a very negative spin on what should be a great story here. I don’t like this King of Wands rev person one bit, he’s trash yall, I’m glad he’s meeting his Justice, he wants to destroy the positive things going for you in your life. Yuck. If you know someone like this, manipulative, demanding and shady af, get away from them. In some cases you are this person, and it’s not healthy.

Ace of Wands:

A new passionate opportunity, an inspiring fire lit right under your bum. You’ve got a new opportunity here to work as a team with someone, but it seems you’re still stuck in the past over some disappointment, heavily focused on what you don’t have so that you’re not seeing what you do, which is The Fool. A brand new start, a new beginning, taking a leap into something that follows with The Sun, pure unfiltered happiness & joy. 2 Swords at the bottom shows you locked in indecision. 10 Cups at the head is telling you what the right answer is here. It’s time to take a leap of faith, and if this King represents your feelings, you’ve got to leave that domineering mentality behind, Death & Justice shows you being much happier in the end for it.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Scorpio, Libra, Taurus & Capricorn

Oracles: ✨

Don’t define yourself by your past or even your illness. You’re in control of your life.

Animals are the most perfect of God’s creations and deserve your unconditional love.

We enter into January as:

Final Sunset 🌅:

“A life has come to a spectacular conclusion.”

This is a reminder to cherish all of the beauty in your life, including endings. Spirit embraces you and the loss you are aware of at this time. All things have a completion, including life, this is the end of a long journey. Now is the time to sit back and enjoy the splendor of the harvest, to reflect on your part in your history, and discover what you value most. This may be a very emotional subject, or it could be finalizing something you’ve worked very long and hard for. Too often we look to what is next, what comes with the fawn, missing the spectacular beauty of the finale. Whatever the ending, do not fear completion, but sit still, and be with the fullness of your experience.

What is to be learned in January:

Silver Cloud ☁️:

“Every silver lining has a cloud.”

If confusion is a familiar state for you, then you already know Silver Cloud. Clarity is only available by journeying with him for awhile. Through a willingness to be in confusion, we find clarity. You are to slow down, meditate, contemplate, rest. If you were to know what lies ahead, you might not take on the next task willingly. You’re not supposed to know, you will when it’s time. Bide your time in gratitude and know that clarity will come along the way.

Silver may be a lucky color 🤍

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misterywaren · 3 years

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My Chaotic Reread Of Cdth

I’m rereading Cdth and the emotional roller coaster I’m on has me going on Tumblr and ranting as a read, hopefully someone can relate.

SPOILERS!!! MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS!! (Disclaimer: It’s long)

All quotes belong to Call Down The Hawk By Maggie Stiefvater!

Welcome to today’s session of “I’m a train wreck of a reading person”!

“Lock tapped the time of Nathan Farooq-Lane’s death into his phone.” Pg 10

Dangerous dreamers, fun. Killing your own sibling with an obsession with blades, so much fun.

“Ronan Lynch was about to end the world.” Pg 11

Rereading this makes me laugh, it’s so funny that one POV is like “Oh no we have to find the Zed who wants to end the world asap” and meanwhile insert Ronan Lynch: I’m about to end the world. Slow down Lynch, we’re only on chapter 2 and I haven’t had my sip of coffee yet.

“Ronan missed him like a lung” Pg 17

Idk man, this is what I call quality romance, if you don’t miss your lover like a lung you’re doing something wrong.

“Please.” Pg 32

If you know, you know.

“You smell like home.” Pg 35

My heart, awe

Okay, when RONAN DOESN’T MENTION NOAH, I HURT. For real, I read those theories dhuiehuefhefuheui

““Don’t kill anyone.” The words were only an excuse to breathe in Ronan’s ear; it made a marvel of his nerve endings.” Pg 39

ADAM YOU FLIRT-

*reads the fight-not a fight part* *closes book* *walks out the front door* we’re gonna buy Adam Parrish a cup of self-worth. (Pg 44)

“I want it too much.” Pg 46

....and murder crabs

“Now who’s the little bitch?” Pg 73

Ah, yes, the moment I fell in love with Hennessy.

“Nightwash” Pg 76

Okay, ngl when I first read this my mind was like: mouthwash Now I’m like: The name is perfect

“Is there any version of you that could come with me to Cambridge? No” Pg 76

jwhdjshsbhjfv

“You are made of dreams and this world is not for you.” Pg 77

Oh you- ~ The text messages between Ronan and Gansey are wholesome

“DBAG LYNCH” Pg 87

*Cackles*

Chapter 12 really changed my perspective of Declan and let me tell you, I came out of this book wanting to hug the hell out of Declan-

“Jordan imagined flinging herself from a roof and flying” Pg 101

The moment I fell in love with Jordan ~ Parsifal- I- <3

“Bryde, they said” Pg 128

Meanwhile, my brain: Here comes the Bryde

“The orphans Lynch.” Pg 135

*tears* ~ Declan and Jordan = Yes (Pg. the whole book) ~ Tbh when Gasey asked if “Badass” was two words or one, I spent 15 minutes thinking about that- but that’s just Gansey, he says something, sends me to question mark nation and then monologues, love him. (Pg. 161) ~ OH MATTHEW YOU INNOCENT I’M SO SORRY FOR WHAT’S COMING FOR YOU- (Pg 160) ~ PARSIFAL T-T (Pg 166) Carmen...ah (Pg 179) ~ Chapter 28: HOLD ON, HOLD ON ~ PARSIFAL T-T (Pg 195)

““I saved your life because I love you and I was scared [...]” “I know you.”“ (Pg 204-206)

Yes, that’s all, yes ~ Tyrian purple (Pg 214) ~ YES DECLAN HAPPINESS, H A P P I N E S S (Pg 231) ~ *Insert Adam* *Insert Ronan* *Insert kisses* *Insert my happy tears* I’ll never tire of this scene, never, it’s so, you know? (Pg. 235-237) ~ *insert scrying* *insert scream* there has been a disturbance in the force *insert Ronan holding Adam* disturbance has been demolished (Chapter 39) ~ *insert Adam leaving* :( *insert Adam stalling* :D *insert Ronan feeling alone* :( *Insert kisses goodbye* :D (Chapter 41)

“You are the most expensive thing I have ever saved” Pg 267

And this is the moment where I stared at the page for 5 minutes just loving this line ~ *Insert Ronan saving Hennessy* "THAT’S MY SON!” I yelled into the abyss/at my bedroom wall. (chapter 44) ~ *the matthew scene* You know the first time I read this I was in class and I was sobbing. No matter how many times I read it, I die, can someone stop me from throwing myself out a window? Please, it hurts. (Pg. 312) ~ *the matthew to ronan scene* Hahahaha haha ha *channels inner Neil Josten* I’m fine, totally fine, didn’t have my heart ripped out of my chest, NOPE (Pg. 316) ~ Chapter 56, I bow down to you, you’re amazing. ~ When Ronan said “my boyfriend” I screeched. (Pg. 357) Ha..WERE GOING ON A TRIP TO OUR FAVOURITE MAGICAL FOREST, SOARING THROUGH DREAMS, IT’S GONNA BE FINE. (What am I doing?) ~ P A R S I F A L (pg. 364) ~ Declan “in case you don’t have internal organs” Lynch. (Pg. 371) Ouuu plot twist (Pg. 373) ~ Living for awkward Declan, you know? ~ Chainsaw and Opal, thank you for gracing me with your presence (Pg. 393) Give the girl some time Lynch, she’s scared (Chapter. 67) ~ (chapter 69) Sing it with me guys “Something good is happening, that can only mean we’re about to get our hearts broken! ay!” THE PAINTINGS- Oh Declan, hun, you *hugs book* it’s okay, I’m sorry, I love you. ~ The dogs, yes Ronan, yess (pg. 428) ~

“Tamquam. It was marked unread.” -Pg. 458

Ahahah, didn’t need my heart anyways ~ I reached the end and here I am again yelling at the book to give me answers and crying, it’s great to be alive. ~

Wow you’ve made it to the end (or you scrolled and scrolled and here you are, hello). Hope you enjoyed my rant and reread of this book, I’m a mess, I love this book so much. I loved The Raven Cycle as well and I can’t wait for the next book in this trilogy. Have a wonderful day and stay safe guys! *whisper hisses* MAY COME FASTER

#cdth #ahahha I'm a mess #while reading this book: *vocal keysmash* WUHDUWDH #call down the hawk #how I managed not to swear during this rant-I never knew I had this talent #ronan lynch #declan lynch #hennessy #farooq-lane #matthew lynch #i'm dead #cdth reread

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