Today's Document
tannertan36
oozey mess
No title available
PR's Tumblrdome
#extradirty
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taylor price
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KIROKAZE
One Nice Bug Per Day
$LAYYYTER
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
The Bowery Presents
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
pixel skylines
YOU ARE THE REASON
if i look back, i am lost
Cosimo Galluzzi
Product Placement
seen from Russia
seen from Singapore
seen from Brazil
seen from Australia
seen from Germany
seen from Hungary
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore
seen from Kuwait
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Jamaica
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Mexico
@cd-replay
eighteen • personal blog • hit replay! • writing side-blog
“wake up in the morning with your hands holding mine i’m ready for this bomb of love” — ‘stay with me’ by the fur.
lysa • 2007 • any pronouns • friends are welcome • asks always open to yap .ᐟˎˊ˗
tag definitions under the cut
UNDER-CONSTRUCTION — MAJOR CONSTRUCTION !!
Saw something on magma that reminded me of Noragami 💔
Graduation was supposed to feel bigger than this.
You had imagined the moment several times preceding the day. walking across the stage, hearing your name echo through the hall, accepting the folder with both hands while the people you loved cheered loudly enough to embarrass you.
Instead, the applause sounded exactly the same for everyone. Just polite and brief.
You smiled for the official photograph, shook the dean’s hand, and descended the stairs without looking toward the audience.
There was no point searching.
After the ceremony, the venue filled with noise.
Families crowded around the graduates, carrying flowers and balloons and gifts wrapped in bright paper. Friends called to one another across the venue. Someone popped a bottle of sparkling wine, and a group nearby erupted into shrieks when the cork flew farther than expected.
Everywhere you looked, people were being pulled into photographs.
You stood near the crowd, holding your graduation folder against your chest.
Your phone vibrated.
A message from your family congratulating you. Another from an old classmate.
You answered each one with a heart. It was a blessing to be able to study abroad, but it also felt lonely when your family or friends are not present for moments like this.
You were happy. You were.
You had finished your degree. You had survived it all.
But pride did not stop the hollow feeling that settled beneath your ribs as another graduate ran into the arms of three waiting friends.
You looked away before your expression could betray you.
It wasn't like you didn't get along with other graduates. It's just they were closer to other people.
Maybe you should leave.
There was no reason to stay pretending to be busy. You could return the gown, buy yourself something sweet, and go home. Later, you could take a photograph of the diploma on your desk and pretend the quiet had been intentional.
You had just begun walking toward the exit when you heard your name.
For a moment, you thought you had imagined it. There were several people all around.
Then you turned.
He stood beyond the crowd in a pale button-down shirt, his sleeves neatly folded below his elbows. In one hand, he held a bouquet wrapped in brown paper.
His hair was slightly out of place, as though the wind had caught it during the walk from the station.
Everything else about him was unmistakably Kita.
He lifted the bouquet a little.
“Congratulations.”
Your feet moved before your mind caught up.
You crossed the venue quickly, nearly colliding with a family arranging themselves for a photograph. Kita stepped forward as you approached, and for one second, you almost threw your arms around him.
You stopped yourself just in time.
“What are you doing here?”
Kita’s eyebrows drew together faintly.
“Attending your graduation.”
“I can see that.” You looked him over again, as though a second inspection might explain how he had materialized in front of you. “I thought your visa was still in process... I thought that you were going to watch the graduation livestream instead...”
“It was. But it got approved just two days ago. Got some help from Aran's teammates and managed to book a flight just in time.”
Something inside you cracked.
It was small. Barely noticeable. A fracture running through the careful wall you had built around the day.
You looked down at the bouquet.
The flowers were simple and neatly arranged, in soft shades of cream. No enormous plastic wrapping.
Exactly the sort of bouquet Kita would choose.
“I didn’t know what flowers people usually give at graduations,” he said. “The florist suggested roses, but I figured you'd want something that can match your dress.”
A laugh escaped you. Kita’s shoulders relaxed.
“So I chose these.”
“They’re beautiful.”
He handed them to you. Your fingers brushed his around the paper, and he withdrew his hand slowly.
You smiled again, but this time your expression came out strangely uneven.
Kita noticed. His gaze moved from your face to the crowd behind you. He took in the families, the photographs, the flowers filling everyone else’s arms.
When he looked back at you, his voice was gentler.
“Have you taken any pictures yet?”
“There was an official one onstage.”
That's not what he meant. You adjusted the bouquet in your arms.
“I was going to take some later,” you added.
“By yourself?”
You hated how softly he asked it.
It made lying difficult.
“I don’t know.”
Kita was quiet for a moment.
He didn't tell you not to be sad. He didn't insist that graduation was about your achievement and that you shouldn't compare yourself to anyone else. He didn't offer you one of the hollow consolations people used when they wanted uncomfortable feelings to disappear quickly.
He simply reached into his bag.
“Stand over there.”
You blinked. “Why?”
“We’re taking pictures.”
“Shin—”
“You're wearing the gown now. The weather’s good. And I came prepared.”
“Prepared?”
He took out a small digital camera. Before you could even ask why he has something like that, he says "Suna gave this to me before my flight. Told me that we should put it to good use,"
You held the camera in awe, "- and that you always wanted digicam photos."
Despite yourself, you smiled.
“I'm really grateful to you and your friends, Shin.”
Kita began with the photographs. You lifted the bouquet toward the camera while trying not to laugh because he kept reminding you to stand straight.
“Shoulders back,” he instructed.
“I’m not one of your rice plants.”
“Rice plants don’t complain this much.”
“You talk to them?”
“Sometimes.”
You lowered the bouquet. “Do they complain less than me?”
“Considerably.”
The photograph he took at that moment caught you laughing. Not the small, practised smile you had worn onstage.
Kita studied the screen.
He photographed you near the old stone steps, beside the flowering trees. When a group of graduates moved away from the fountain, he guided you toward it before anyone else could take the spot.
Then he approached a passing student and asked her to take one of the two of you and him.
The student lifted the camera. “Closer,” she called.
You and Kita exchanged a glance.
Then his hand settled lightly on your lower back. You could feel the warmth of his palm through the gown.
Your smile became helpless.
The student took several photographs. In the last one, you were looking toward the camera. and Kita was looking at you.
Afterward, he took you away from the crowded venue.
He stopped walking. You did too.
For the first time all afternoon, he seemed uncertain.
Not nervous exactly. Kita was rarely nervous. But his fingers tightened slightly around the strap of his bag.
You looked down at the flowers.
“I’m glad you came,” you said. “I think today would’ve felt very different if you hadn’t.”
His expression softened.
“I kept thinking there wasn’t anyone there for me,” You quickly backtracked, "I mean, I know everyone at home was watching the livestream, so i know I'm not really alone.. but..." your words died down.
Kita looked at you for a long moment.
Then he shifted the folder beneath his arm and reached for your free hand. His fingers closed around yours with quiet certainty.
“I was there.”
Your chest tightened.
“I know.”
“No.” His thumb moved once across your knuckles. “I mean I was already there.”
You frowned.
“During the ceremony?”
He nodded.
“But I didn’t see you.”
“I arrived before it started. I was near the back.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you might look for me.”
“I didn’t think there was anyone to look for.”
The words came out before you could soften them.
Something changed in Kita’s face. Not pity.
Kita had never looked at you as though you were something fragile. Even now, his hand remained steady around yours.
“I should’ve told you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I wanted to surprise you. But a surprise isn’t worth much if it leaves you feeling alone.”
Your eyes burned.
You looked away, focusing on the people passing at the other end of the street.
“I’m being dramatic.”
“You're not.” He said without hesitation.
“It was still a nice day.” You counter.
“It can be a nice day and still hurt.”
That was the worst thing he could have said.
Or perhaps the best.
Your composure finally slipped. You lowered your head, pressing your lips together as tears gathered despite every effort to stop them.
Kita stepped closer. His arms came around you carefully, mindful of the flowers between you. You leaned into him and released a shaky breath.
His hand moved slowly over your back.
“I’m proud of you,” he said.
You closed your eyes.
There was something beneath the words.
Something warm and far too tender to examine while his arms were around you.
You pulled back enough to look at him.
Kita did not release you entirely. His hands remained at your arms.
“I wanted someone to celebrate with me,” you whispered.
“I know.”
“And you came.”
Kita looked at you with an honesty that made your heart stumble.
“When you walked across that stage,” he said, “I wanted you to have someone in the crowd who knew exactly how hard it was to get there.”
His fingers tightened slightly around your arms.
“And I wanted to be the person waiting when you came out.”
The city continued around you. A tram sounded somewhere beyond the buildings. A group laughed as they passed. The wind stirred the paper around your flowers.
But for a few seconds, everything felt remarkably still.
Kita’s gaze lowered briefly to your face.
Then, with a tenderness that would make you cry, he reached up and straightened the edge of your graduation cap.
“I’ll make sure you know where to look next time.”
He took your hand again when you continued toward the station.
And when you looked through the photographs that night, you didn't see someone who had been left behind.
You saw yourself laughing beneath the university sign, flowers gathered against your chest.
And you saw the picture by the fountain.
You were facing the camera, bright and happy. Beside you was Kita, looking at you as though your graduation had been the easiest thing in the world to celebrate.
As though showing up had never been a question.
As though, in every crowd you would ever walk into, he had already chosen where he wanted to stand.
---
It was Atsumu and Osamu's idea to have Kita surprise you. Aran used his connections to find a suitable flight date for Kita. Suna gifted the digicam as a graduation gift. Everyone in inarizaki watched the livestream for your graduation <3
I wrote this because I felt alone in my ceremony. i love kita sm
sorry i never replied. everyday is blending together and i'm losing sense of time
i’m devastated after reading noragami
it’s TWO in the morning and the fic i stayed up HOURS reading DIDNT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING
real footage
what vibe does prev give off?
victorian gothic
roaring 20s
70s rockstar
y2k
90s grunge
distant future
stole it from here
toilet bound hanako kun and mob psycho 100 crossover. when, lysa, when?
if i ever win the lottery i am personally funding season three of noragami
it feels so weird to say this about a show where such a shit load of terrible things happen to them, but the writing of pursuit of jade really loves women.
our heroine, fan changyu, gets so many wonderful relationships across both genders, has such a developed and defined personality.
and small characters like the maid in qi min's manor make big impacts just by being kind to other women
then there are so many female side characters who are set up to be shallow antagonists but I think damn near every single one gets moments of dignity or bravery and as someone who's watched so many historical shows like this where they DON'T love women over the course of my life I'm just 🥹🥹🥹
((we don't talk about madam song ok))
kagehina dressed as oruggio and qifrey ✨
first 5 faceless emojis are how your summers gonna go
Tobio watching you eat what he cooked for dinner to see if you like it before he starts eating his own meal
THE HYPERVIEW COLLECTION⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ TRACK THREE: HYPERNIGHT
<- BACK TO TRACK LISTING
warnings: hinata x reader, angst, unhappy endings, soft core smut, mdni
Hinata only sees you when he fucks you.
After long hours at the gym or a team meetings or at after parties for matches he's won, he'll come home to you. He'll have you on your back, hands hooked under your knees, pressing them to your chest as he drills his hips into you. Then he showers, eats a good meal, and goes to bed. When he wakes up in the morning, you're still asleep. Sometimes, he'll place a soft kiss on your forehead before he leaves.
Hinata lives his life without very much interference from you. He works and he sweats and he gets stronger and then, when he comes home, he remembers you. And coming home to you is like coming home to a different world. He's different with you. He has his life, and then has you.
Something about how simple and stripped down "Yan Zheng" is in comparison to Xie Zheng's real name(s) and titles - The Marquis of Wu'an, etc.
言正. No radicals - his name cannot be split apart anymore. He cannot be "broken down" anymore than to Yan Zheng.
Thinking about how Changyu found him and treated him like just a man on the brink of death. Just a man. When was the last time when he was treated like just a person and not a weapon of war, a sword of the state to be wielded? When his parents were alive.
When given the choice to introduce himself to a stranger who knows none of his backstory (the good, bad, scary) that's what he chose. He chose to start from as close to zero as he could get.
Was it out of survival initially? Yes! But after things changed where it would have objectively benefitted him to be the Marquis (money, the politics with the Magistrate) he still maintained the identity of Yan Zheng - just a man, just a matrilocal husband.
It hurts when Changyu calls him by his titles (one because it's Changyu doing it) because there's no one else that he can feel human with except her. It feels like she's rejecting not just Xie Zheng the marquis but Yan Zheng the human.
Changyu says that he got married under a false name but, did he really?
Iwachan is shy
