#it's just the things they chose to change if this makes sense

[mononijikayu]

“beautiful boy (darling boy)” — gojo satoru.

“Papa chose the character for you. It means 'dawn'.” He whispered to him tenderly, almost like a little lullaby. “Because you are the beginning of a new chapter for our family. You bring light and hope into our lives, just like the dawn brings a new day."

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

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

LISTEN: beautiful boy (darling boy) by john lennon.

NOTE: my classes were cancelled and i just played random music on my phone and this.....sort of sparked something. i sobbed to this, by the way. this might be my last one for now. i've just been frantically making these for the past few days. i'll come back after some rest!!! i love you all so much!!! <3

addendum: the character satoru chose for satoshi is '暁' which means dawn/daybreak; satoshi was born on the same day as his father in 2014.

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, HE DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD COME TO THIS. He could remember it like it was yesterday, when you held out your hand and took his — placing them together on your belly. Your lilac eyes shone against his bright blue, full of wonder and anxiety. He was frozen at that moment. He was overwhelmed. 

Not even his six-eyes could keep up with his emotions, his thoughts. He knew it was an accident, he knew it wasn’t something both of you planned. But he was happy. He was all too happy that he scooped you in his arms, as though you were the treasure of the world and cradled you, whispering the most loving things, loving words ever known to any being.

It was never your plan to have children, not even with the pressure from the elders of your clans. There was never the time. There was never a sense of security. WIth what Satoru was planning to do, with what dangers there’ll be — just like he had experienced in youth, none of you wanted that for your child. And you wanted to help him, you wanted to do well by him. Satoru was your lifeline, your purpose to live was his goal. Your life with him was what made your life blossom in these past few years of marriage. But that changed too, with the bludding life growing in your belly.

You both cried that night, holding each other. It was hard to comprehend that this was happening, that a child had chosen both of you. You were glad that the Tsumiki and Megumi were at a sleep-over. They didn’t need to see you both so conflicted with your joy and your worries. No kid should be burdened by such a thing as the worries of the heavy world. 

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of evening casting long shadows on the walls. Satoru sat across from you, his cerulean eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions—excitement, concern, and a fierce determination to protect. The news of your pregnancy had brought a bittersweet mix of joy and anxiety.

“We need to decide what to do next, darling.” Satoru said, his voice steady but laced with worry. “I don’t want you to suffer like my mother did. The multiple assassination attempts... I can’t let that happen to you.”

“We can’t tell the world, Satoru,” you said quietly with a soft nod. “The higher-ups could see this as an issue. There was a time when the passing of powers in the Gojo clan – similar to the Six-Eyes, was from father to son. They might see our child as a threat, Satoru….and I…I don’t want them to hurt our child.”

Satoru’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts kicking in. “Then we keep this between us, Megumi, and Tsumiki. My mother….maybe your mother and Aunt Arisu can help us hide this from the world too. They’ll understand the importance of keeping this secret.”

You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his. “They will. They’ve always been supportive of us…and our plans. They’ll be kind to us about this too. It is their next of kin now, after all.”

For a moment, your husband looks at you. His free hand draped across your cheek and you looked at him so lovingly, leaning your head against the warm palm of his hand. He could feel how lucky he was. How beautiful you were. His eyes lowered at your belly and felt that same warmth glowing from within you, as welcoming and loving towards the person who had helped give such life to the growing seed in your belly. 

Satoru pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “I’m sorry, darling.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with confusion. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because….” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “You’re the one who will suffer the most here, not me. The secrecy, the danger... it’s all on you. And all I can do is hold your hand. And I….”

You shook your head, resting your hand against his cheek. “Your hand is more than enough. You by my side is more than enough. All I have ever needed, all our child will ever need — is you. All they need is their father.”

“When did I ever deserve something as good as you in my life?”

You smiled at him, “Because you are good, Satoru. You’ve always been.”

“You’re the most important thing in my life.” He whispers to you, his hand on your belly. “You and our child.”

“We’re in this together, Satoru. I’m not alone in this.” You let your hand brush against his silver locks. “Because you’ll always be here, hm?”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I love you,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I love both of you. And I’ll protect you with all I have.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. “I love you too,” you whispered, feeling the strength of his love envelop you. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

The next few days were a whirlwind of planning and preparation. Your mother and Aunt Arisu were brought into the fold, their wisdom and experience invaluable in devising a plan to keep your pregnancy a secret. They promised to support you in any way they could, offering their home as a safe haven where you could hide from prying eyes.

Megumi and Tsumiki were surprisingly understanding, their loyalty to you and Satoru unwavering. They vowed to keep the secret, to protect their future sibling from the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the jujutsu world.

As the weeks turned into months, you found strength in the love and support of those around you. Satoru’s determination to protect you never wavered, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance. Despite the secrecy and the danger, there was a sense of hope that carried you through each day.

And in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for the love that bound you together. It was a love that would see you through the darkest of times, a love that would protect and nurture the new life growing inside you. And with Satoru by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The days leading up to Satoru's confrontation with Sukuna were heavy with unspoken fears and silent resolutions. Each moment felt borrowed, a fragile gift that could shatter under the weight of impending doom. You moved through your days with a heightened awareness, every touch, every glance laden with meaning. The anticipation was a living thing, a constant presence that neither of you could shake.

The last time you both saw your son was during separate visits to the ancestral manor. He knew you had been there, especially when you brought Yuuji along at his request. Satoru had visited him shortly afterward, driven by an insistent need to see his boy before the impending confrontation. The weight of the world seemed lighter, if only for a moment, as he thought of his son.

Satoru could only sigh, the longing in his heart palpable. He had yearned for Suguru for the past eleven, twelve years, a constant ache that never quite faded. Yet, this longing for Suguru, as intense as it was, paled in comparison to the deep, unyielding yearning of a father. He had missed his son so much, too much. The distance, both physical and emotional, had been a torment he could hardly bear.

Satoru was certain he remembered everything about his son. The boy was a spitting image of him—silver hair that fell a bit longer, the same striking blue eyes, though his son's were even darker, like the depths of the sea. But more importantly, he recognized the essence of you in every move, every quirk, every smile. Your son might look like Satoru, but in all the ways that mattered, he was you.

Satoru adored him the most in the world. Even if he loves you, there is truly nothing that’s going to encapsulate, translate how much he loves his little boy. Your son was a constant, beautiful reminder of the bond you both shared. Your son carried your grace, your kindness, and your strength. Every time Satoru looked at him, he saw the love and unity that defined your relationship. For that, he was profoundly grateful. For that, he was happy. There was a reminder of you, of him, together in this world, encapsulated in the boy who bore the best of both of you.

And here he was, newly sealed, recovering from all of it;

All he could think about was wanting to see your dear boy.

All he could think about was wanting to embrace him again.

"I want to go to Hida," he said, his voice steady but laced with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. He looks to you softly, eyes full of yearning. “I wanna see him.”

"Are you sure?" you asked gently, searching his face for any hesitation. You purse your lips. “Satoru, it’s unsafe now. Are you sure?”

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. "I want to spend as much time as possible trying to make sure our son understands that his father loves him."

You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the doubt that gnawed at him despite his resolute exterior. "Satoru, you're a good father." you assured him, but he shook his head, his expression conflicted. “You have put your own heart at hold to protect him. He understands.”

"I don't know if I'm doing it right or wrong," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I love our son as much as I love Megumi, as much as I love you. But I didn't have a father growing up. Mine died when I was young, and I don't remember him very well. My mother tells me that he loved a lot, but I don't know if I believe that."

You stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "You love our son, and that's what matters most. He's always known that, even if you haven't been able to be there as much as you wanted. He sees it because you show him.”

Satoru sighed, his gaze distant as he recalled the moments he missed, the milestones he couldn't witness firsthand. "I want to be the best father to him, darling. I want him to know he's the most beloved son. That I love him the most in the world.”

"You already are, Satoru," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“We have to see him.” Your husband retorts back to you, a sad smile on his lips. “If this is the last chance—”

“It won’t be,” You shake your head at him. “You know that.”

“I know, but…” He sighs, resting his head against the crook of your neck. “I want to be sure. Nothing is bound, darling. I want to… I want to be able to leave him with something he can remember his old man by.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you both, the unspoken fears and the grim reality of what was to come. You could feel your throat choke up as you tried to banish the tears from your eyes. The thought of Satoru not being there hurt you.

Not only because you loved him, but because you knew your son loved him the best in the world. The thought of him becoming without the person he holds dear in the world, it tears you apart.

You want to believe that your husband was the title he was given. You knew he was strong. You believe he will overcome this. That’s why you keep putting off visiting your son. It was safer, it would be in the future that you and Satoru had fought so hard to fight for. But your husband was just a man too. A man who has a finite life and a heart too big for the world to comprehend. He was just Satoru. A husband, a father. A friend, a teacher. He was just like that. 

You look at him with a guilty look. You were selfish with him, with what you said. He needed you, he needed Satoru. Your son needed you both. As much as you needed him. What is protecting him from all these dangers, if you both weren’t there to love him either?

What is loving Satoru if you can’t be there for him either? If you can’t love him properly either? You took a deep breath. You’ve made up your mind. You will not deprive him of this. You would not be selfish with this. You would let him be selfish. You would let him live as he had never before. 

You held him tighter, feeling the tension in his muscles, the vulnerability he rarely showed. “You’re right. We will see him, my love.” you affirmed, your voice steady. “And we’ll make sure he knows how much he’s loved.”

Satoru’s eyes met yours, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you, darling.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “For understanding, for always being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you whispered to him tenderly as you kissed the small of his lips. “I should have been better with this.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry. You want to protect him too, I understand.” He tells you, a small smile on his lips. “Sukuna has familiarity with Hida, I know you’re wary about it.”

You nodded, the weight of your concerns evident in your eyes. “I just want to make sure he’s safe. That we’re all safe.”

Satoru’s smile softened, and he brushed a thumb over your cheek. “We’ll keep him safe. We’ll keep everyone safe. That’s a promise.”

You smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “We’re in this together, Satoru. Always.”

He kissed your forehead, a lingering touch that conveyed all the words he couldn’t say. “Let’s go to Hida,” he said finally. “Let’s spend this time with him, make memories that will stay with him.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of resolve settle within you. “Yes, let’s do that. We’ll make sure he knows how much he means to us.”

All of Satoru’s training was canceled for the next few days.

Everyone understood why and said nothing about any of it.

Gojo Satoru couldn’t be happier to enjoy the long trip.

Because the next he’ll get off the train, he’ll see his dear son.

ARRIVING IN HIDA WAS A REFRESHING THING. It was as though the looming war, the destruction, the suffering, did not exist. These precious days felt suspended in time, a haven of peace amidst the chaos.

Each sunrise brought with it a semblance of normalcy, a gentle reminder of the life you were fighting to protect. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything it touched.

As the days passed, you found moments of solace in the simple joys of being together. Satoru’s determination to be the best father he could be was palpable. He approached fatherhood with the same intensity and dedication he showed in his sorcery, and you admired the way he threw himself into the role with such fervor.

His playful nature shone brightly as he engaged your son in games, stories, and lessons. The bond between father and son grew stronger with each passing day, and it filled you with a sense of hope and reassurance.

Gojo Satoshi did not know much about the wider world beyond the confines of the carefully constructed life you and your family had built around him. But Satoru thought that was for the best. At his tender age, the complexities and dangers of the world could wait.

For now, Satoshi was wrapped in a cocoon of love and safety, his days filled with laughter and innocence. The little lordling of the Gojo clan had the privilege of being shielded from the harsh realities, existing in a world where he was cherished and adored.

“Young master Gojo, please do not run too much! You’ll slip!” His nurse-maid's voice rang out in a mix of concern and exasperation as she hurried after the energetic boy. Her normally composed demeanor was visibly frazzled as she struggled to keep pace with her lively charge. “Young master!”

“Heh, chase me! Chase me!” Satoshi's infectious giggle echoed through the gardens, his small feet moving quickly across the manicured lawn. His silvery hair, so much like his father's, shimmered in the sunlight, and his blue eyes sparkled with pure delight.

The scene was picturesque, the verdant greenery of the garden serving as a perfect backdrop to the boy's joy. Flowers bloomed in a riot of colors, and the gentle hum of insects added to the serene atmosphere.

Gojo Satoru watched from a distance, a soft smile playing on his lips. He saw so much of himself in Satoshi, from the boy’s boundless energy to the mischievous glint in his eyes. Yet, he also saw you in him—the kindness, the warmth, the innate ability to find joy in the simplest things.

Satoshi’s world was small but rich, filled with the love and attention of those who cared for him. He didn't know of the looming threats or the responsibilities that came with his lineage. Instead, his days were spent exploring the garden, listening to stories, and playing games. It was a simple life, but it was one that Satoru cherished deeply for his son.

The nurse-maid finally caught up to Satoshi, scooping him into her arms despite his playful wriggling. “Young master, you must be careful,” she chided gently, her tone softening as she adjusted his tousled hair. “We wouldn’t want you to get hurt. You are too important to be hurt.”

Satoshi pouted for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “Okay, I’ll be careful,” he promised, though the twinkle in his eye suggested that he was already planning his next adventure.

“Our little lordling is too bright for the sun, huh?” Satoru approached, his presence immediately noticed by Satoshi, who reached out eagerly. 

“Papa!” the boy exclaimed, his arms stretching towards his father.

With a warm chuckle, Satoru took Satoshi into his arms, lifting him high into the air. “Having fun, little lordling?” he asked, his voice filled with affection. “You were zooming out there, huh?”

“Yeah!” Satoshi replied enthusiastically. “We were playing chase, and I was winning!”

Satoru laughed, his heart swelling with love. “I’m sure you were. But remember to listen to your nurse-maid, okay? We don’t want any accidents.”

Satoshi nodded solemnly before breaking into giggles again. “I will, Papa.”

As Satoru held his son close, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. In these moments, the worries of the world faded away, leaving only the pure, unadulterated love between a father and his child. He knew that soon enough, Satoshi would grow older and the realities of their world would become unavoidable. But for now, he was determined to protect this innocence, to ensure that Satoshi's world remained filled with laughter and love for as long as possible.

“Let’s go find Mama,” Satoru said, carrying Satoshi back towards the house. “I’m sure she’s missed you.”

Satoshi's eyes lit up at the mention of you, and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Let’s go find Mama!”

The path back to the house was lined with blooming cherry blossoms, their petals gently drifting to the ground with each breeze. Satoru walked with an easy grace, his son nestled securely in his arms. The house, an elegant blend of traditional and modern architecture, stood as a sanctuary amid the chaos of the outside world.

As they approached, the soft hum of your voice reached their ears. You were in the kitchen, preparing a meal, the aroma of freshly cooked rice and simmering soup wafting through the air. Your presence was a constant source of comfort and strength, grounding Satoru in ways he often struggled to articulate.

“Mama!” Satoshi called out excitedly as they entered the kitchen.

You turned, a warm smile spreading across your face as you wiped your hands on a towel. “There’s my little troublemaker,” you said, reaching out to take Satoshi from Satoru’s arms. “Were you having fun in the garden?”

Satoshi nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mama! We played chase, and I was winning!”

You chuckled, kissing his forehead. “I’m sure you were. Did you give the nurse-maid a hard time?”

Satoshi giggled, hiding his face on your shoulder. “Maybe a little.”

Satoru watched the interaction with a tender expression. “He’s full of energy today,” he commented, stepping closer to place a hand on your back. “How are you feeling?”

You glanced up at him, your eyes filled with understanding. “Better, now that you two are here.” You looked back at Satoshi, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Were you good for Papa?”

“Yes, Mama,” Satoshi replied earnestly. “Papa said we should always listen to nurse-maid.”

You smiled, giving Satoru an appreciative look. “That’s right. It’s important to be careful.”

Satoru's gaze softened as he watched you interact with Satoshi. Despite the looming threat of Sukuna, these moments of normalcy and love filled him with a fierce determination to protect his family at all costs.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” you said, turning back to the stove. “Why don’t you two wash up?”

Satoshi wriggled in your arms, eager to comply. “Come on, Papa!” he urged, pulling at Satoru’s hand.

“Alright, alright,” Satoru laughed, letting himself be led towards the bathroom. As he helped Satoshi wash his hands, he marveled at how such simple acts could bring so much joy.

After washing up, they returned to the kitchen where you had set the table. The meal was a humble but hearty spread, the kind that brought warmth and comfort to the soul. Satoru helped Satoshi into his chair before taking his own seat beside you.

As you all sat down to eat, Satoshi’s chatter filled the room, his stories animated and full of wonder. Satoru listened with rapt attention, his heart swelling with pride and love. He reached out to squeeze your hand under the table, a silent promise that he would do everything in his power to keep this happiness intact.

After dinner, you all settled in the living room. Satoshi, full and content, curled up next to you on the couch, his little head resting on your lap. Satoru sat beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, casting a serene ambiance over the scene.

Satoru looked at you, his cerulean eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. “We’re going to be okay,” he said softly, his voice steady. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”

You nodded, leaning into his embrace. “Together,” you echoed, your hand resting gently on Satoshi’s back.

“Papa, let’s go!” Satoshi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, his little hand tugging at Satoru’s sleeve.

“Hm? Where, little lordling?” Satoru asked, his voice warm with affection.

“The koi pond!” Satoshi replied eagerly, his enthusiasm infectious.

Satoru looked at you, seeking your opinion. You nodded and offered him a warm smile. “Why not? It’s too nice today and it’s refreshing after a long play, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.” Your husband nodded to you before turning his attention back to your son, his grin widening. “Does my little lordling want to be carried by papa, or is he wanting to be a big boy and walk?”

Satoshi puffed out his chest with pride, his tiny hands clenched into determined fists. “I’ll walk, Papa! I’m a big boy!”

Satoru chuckled, patting Satoshi’s head affectionately. “That’s my boy. Lead the way, then.”

The three of you made your way to the koi pond, the garden bathed in the golden glow of the moonshine The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of owls settling down for the evening. It was a tranquil scene, a stark contrast to the turbulent world outside your home.

The tranquil scene was framed by vibrant greenery and the soft murmur of a nearby stream. They were watching the koi fish swim lazily in the pond, their colorful scales glinting in the moonlight. Your son was immediately chattering excitedly about something he’d learned, his voice a melodic blend of enthusiasm and curiosity. Satoru listened intently, a fond smile playing on his lips.

Satoshi skipped ahead, his laughter ringing out like a melody. You and Satoru followed at a leisurely pace, hand in hand, savoring the peaceful moment.

As you reached the koi pond, Satoshi knelt by the water's edge, his eyes wide with wonder as he watched the colorful fish swim gracefully. “Look, Papa! The fish are so pretty!”

Satoru crouched beside him, pointing out different koi. “See that one with the golden scales? That’s the king of the pond. And that one over there, with the red spots, is the queen.”

Satoshi’s eyes sparkled with delight as he listened intently to Satoru’s explanations. “Can we feed them, Papa?”

Satoru glanced at you, and you smiled, pulling out a small container of fish food from your pocket. “Here you go, Satoshi. Just a little bit at a time, okay?”

Satoshi nodded eagerly, carefully taking the container from you and sprinkling a small amount of food into the pond. The koi fish swarmed to the surface, their mouths opening and closing as they devoured the food. Satoshi giggled with delight, clapping his hands together.

“Papa, did you know that koi fish can live for over 200 years?” your son exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.

Satoru nodded, his gaze never leaving your son’s animated face. “Really? That’s amazing, buddy. Imagine all the stories they could tell.”

Your son giggled, the sound pure and joyful. “Maybe they know magic, too!”

Satoru’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe they do. Maybe they’re the guardians of secret underwater realms.”

You and Satoru stood back, watching your son with fond smiles. “He’s growing up so fast.” you murmured, leaning into Satoru’s side. "Almost four already. He's not our baby anymore, hm?"

“He still is, y'know?” Satoru hummed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “but you're right. Soon, he’s going to grow up strong. Our beautiful boy, he’s always going to be loved, too.”

“This is perfect,” you whispered, leaning your head against Satoru’s shoulder. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart grounded you, reminding you of the strength you found in each other. “This is everything we could ever want.

“It is.” Satoru agreed, his voice low and filled with emotion. “Everything is more than I imagined.”

As the moon echoed below the horizon, casting a warm evening glow over the garden, the three of you stood by the koi pond, savoring the simple joys of family and the promise of a future filled with love and hope. All Gojo Satoru had to do was defeat Sukuna. All he had to do was get this over with. Then all will be over. He’ll get to be with you. He’ll get to be with Satoshi. You could be a family in peace.

Gojo Satoru wouldn’t be the strongest then.

He could just be himself, he could just be this.

He could just be your husband, Satoshi’s father.

He can be a human being for the first time in his life.

“Papa, can we stay here forever?” your son asked suddenly, his eyes wide with innocence. Both of you look at him. “You and mama, can we all be here together?”

Your son's innocent question hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the simplicity of childhood dreams. Satoru's gaze softened as he looked down at your son, his expression a mixture of tenderness and wistfulness. It was a question that held a weight far beyond its years, touching on the deepest desires of the heart.

For a moment, neither of you knew quite how to respond. The idea of staying in this tranquil moment forever, frozen in time with your family by your side, was undeniably tempting. Yet, reality loomed on the horizon, with its uncertainties and responsibilities.

Satoru exchanged a glance with you, silently communicating the depth of his emotions. There was a longing in his eyes, a yearning for a life free from the burdens of duty and danger. But beneath it all, there was a fierce determination to protect what mattered most—your family.

With a gentle smile, you reached out and ruffled your son's hair. "We'll always be together, Satoshi. No matter what happens, we'll find a way to stay together."

Satoru's hand found yours, his grip reassuring and firm. "That's right, little lordling. We'll always be here for you, no matter where life takes us."

Your son's eyes sparkled with happiness at your reassurance, his small hand reaching out to clasp both of yours. "Promise?"

You exchanged a knowing look with Satoru, his expression mirroring your own determination. "Promise," you both said in unison, sealing the vow with a tender smile

The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room as you lay entwined with your husband and son. In the tranquil silence of the night, you could hear the steady rhythm of their breathing, a comforting reminder of the love that bound you together.

Wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace, you felt a profound sense of contentment wash over you. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the ones you held most dear, that you found solace from the chaos of the outside world. Here, in the sanctuary of your shared love, you felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges awaited you.

As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, a serene smile graced your lips. In the arms of your beloved family, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would overcome them with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

“Satoru, my love.” you whispered, your hand entwined with his. “Thank you for being here. For being with us.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with love. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, darling. You and our son… you’re my everything.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words seep into your heart. “And you’re ours. Always.”

The days turned into weeks, and the time for Satoru’s confrontation with Sukuna drew closer. But instead of being consumed by fear, you found strength in the love that surrounded you. The bond you shared with Satoru, the love you had for your son, and the support of your family gave you the courage to face whatever lay ahead.

On the last evening before Satoru was to leave with you, the three of you all gathered under the stars, the night sky a blanket of twinkling lights above you. Your son sat on Satoru’s lap, his head resting against his father’s chest.

“Papa, will you come back soon?” he asked, his voice small and filled with hope.

Satoru hugged him tightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll do everything I can to come back to you, buddy. You and your mama are my entire world. Papa can’t live without any of you.”

Your son nodded, content with his father’s promise. “Me too, papa.”

“Hm?”

“I can’t live without you and mama.” Your son whispers to his father, wiping his father’s tears tenderly. Satoru blinked at his son’s act. “So papa has to do well and come back, with mama?”

In that tender moment, the depth of the bond between father and son was palpable. Satoru's heart swelled with emotion as he gazed into his son's earnest eyes, filled with a love so pure and unconditional it took his breath away. With a lump in his throat, he tightened his embrace, savoring the warmth of his son's small body pressed against his own.

His voice was thick with emotion as he replied, "I promise, buddy. I'll do everything in my power to come back to you and mama. You both mean the world to me, and I can't bear the thought of being without you."

Your son's response was equally heartfelt, his voice soft yet resolute. "I believe in you, papa. We'll be waiting for you, always."

You leaned against Satoru, drawing comfort from his presence. “I love you so much.”

He takes a breath. “I love you too. With everything in me.”

The night was quiet, filled with the gentle sounds of nature and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating in unison. As you closed your eyes, Satoru whispered a silent prayer, to any god listening above. If there ever was one. He prayed.

He wished that he could come home. He wished that he could be with you. He wished that he could watch Satoshi grow up. He wishes for that dream, for that hope, to come true.

That’s what all he could see as he lay there.

Shoko Ieiri looked him in the eyes as he struggled.

He smiles at her and then you, puddle full of tears.

“I love you.” He choked. “You and Satoshi, I love you.”

From faraway Hida, a boy sits by the koi pond and prays.

“I hope that my mama and papa return to good health soon.”

flashback epilogue

The hospital room was cast in a gentle, dim light, creating a serene atmosphere that belied the intensity of the recent events. Satoru sat on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders relaxed yet filled with a quiet strength as he cradled his newborn son,  little Gojo Satoshi, against his chest. 

With delicate care, he adjusted the soft blankets around little Satoshi, ensuring his newborn son was warm and comfortable. Despite the fatigue evident in his eyes, there was a palpable sense of wonder and tenderness in Satoru's touch as he looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms.

Meanwhile, you lay nearby, your form softened by the relief of finally finding respite after the long and arduous hours of labor. Your face, though etched with exhaustion, held a serene expression, a testament to the profound sense of fulfillment that accompanied the arrival of your precious child.

In that quiet moment, amidst the hushed sounds of the hospital room, the bond between parent and child blossomed, enveloping the room in an aura of warmth and love that seemed to transcend time itself. Satoru couldn’t be happier to carry his whole world in his arms.

Gazing down at the tiny bundle in his arms, Satoru felt a surge of overwhelming love wash over him. With a soft smile, he leaned in close to Satoshi's ear, whispering words of welcome and affection.

"Welcome to the world, my beautiful boy." Satoru murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "D’you know what your name is? What it means?”

The little boy cooed at his father’s words.

Satoru laughed softly, looking at him lovingly.

He was already so attentive towards his father.

“Mama and I decided together, y’know? Your name just had to be Satoshi.” Satoru takes a deep breath, smiling as the baby cooes again. “You’re satisfied, hm? But you’ll like the spelling more, little man.”

Satoru could only feel overwhelmed by what he felt.

He could only feel nothing but joy, nothing but elation.

The dawn was breaking, as it always had before this moment.

But now,  where his own dawn was in his hands, he just smiled.

“Papa chose the character for you. It means 'dawn'.” He whispered to him tenderly, almost like a little lullaby. “Because you are the beginning of a new chapter for our family. You bring light and hope into our lives, just like the dawn brings a new day."

There was a louder coo this time around.

He was more than happy, Satoru thinks.

And he couldn’t be happier than this moment.

This beautiful boy, his darling boy, his dawn.

Satoru pressed a gentle kiss to Satoshi's forehead, marveling at the precious life he held in his arms. "I love you so much, my son," he whispered, his heart overflowing with love and joy at the arrival of their little miracle. “My little dawn.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x oc #jujutsu kaisen x oc #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo x oc #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru x oc #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo x oc #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo satorou #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru

[acapelladitty]

gotta firefight, gotta cool the bad

Pairing: Cooper Howard/Lucy Maclean

Summary: After a marketplace fight, Lucy purchases a gift for Cooper and finds her generosity repaid in kind. (5.3k words)

(warnings for: physical violence, oral sex, mild blood, gun violence, cunnilingus, handjobs, drug use, orgasm)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

"It fucking stinks out here."

In the hustle and bustle of the small marketplace, it wasn't hard for Cooper to find the culprit causing such a nasty violation of his senses. A nearby vendor, their large barbecue hosting rows of neatly sliced and diced mutated fish, was slowly cooking the snacks atop the heated coals and the scent of the roasting fish was enough to even make Lucy's nose twitch as she stood in silent agreement with Cooper.

Glaring daggers at the stall owner, a short woman with greying hair that seemed to defy gravity as it stood on its end, Cooper sauntered past with a disgusted grunt as his eyes cast over the other available wares.

Supplies were low and his long memory had served him well as he recalled this busy little shopping district only just off the path which he and Lucy were treading on their dogged path towards her prick of a daddy.

A quick search of an old barn the previous day had yielded a sweet find; a case full of caps had fallen right into their hands and the sudden flushness marked with the low supplies had forced them to stray from their goals yet again as they chose to make a pit-stop. In the wastelands, good fortune didn't come around often so it was always the better choice to strike while the iron was hot and use their findings for immediate benefits.

Lucy was just looking forward to the distraction.

It had been three days since they'd fucked and nothing dramatic had changed between them outside of Cooper's mean-spirited teasing taking on a more physical edge as he grabbed at her and took more opportunity to brush against her with greater regularity. He hadn't brought up their little roll in the dust and sex to her was as casual as playing a game of cards so she didn't see the point in being the one to mention it.

A dreary sign hung over one of the stalls, offering a limited deal on anyone who required both dental work and haircare, the dental barber lounging beneath his advert with predatory eyes as he watched the handfuls of people slip amongst the varied goods and wares. To his side lay another rickety table, this one housing various pieces of tech and trinkets which Cooper could immediately tell were scavenged from the remaining wreckage of Dusty Dunes.

One of the stalls boasted some pretty decent looking vegetables, the stark green standing out against the muted browns and oranges of the surrounding desolation and Cooper found himself latching his fingers to Lucy's elbow as he all but dragged her over to have a closer look.

The man who owned the stall, his right hand missing a thumb, watched them approach with hateful eyes but Cooper ignored the obvious tension as his gaze zeroed in on his goal.

"How much for the lettuce?"

"Fuck off, mutant."

Smiling dangerously, Cooper took the insult in stride, unbothered by the attitude. People hated ghouls and he was more than happy to meet their disdain with his own.

To his side, Lucy was not quite so calm.

She wasn't ignorant to the way people reacted to Cooper, her eyes and ears were quick to pick up on the whispers and outright nastiness which people afforded him before he could even open his mouth.

"Hey! What's your problem?"

Equality in the vault was an absolute rule. No job or ruling position was limited in who could hold it and all an individual had to do was speak their truths and hope that they garnered enough votes or interest to succeed. Skin colour, gender, sexual persuasion, all irrelevant as they each saw past these things to choose the best person for the job.

To see actual discrimination in the flesh, so to speak, was an aspect of her travels with Cooper which needled her with just how unnecessary it was. That and all the other shit they had to deal with. This at least, she could control.

Regarding her with less open hostility, there was still an edge of disgust in the stall owners features as his gaze roved over her.

"No try before you buy, lady. If you see something you like then I'll tell you a price."

"And what about my friend here?"

Content to let her steam ahead on her one woman crusade to bring some class to this shithole marketplace, the amusement which Cooper hid behind his stoic features was laced with a dangerous warmth that she even gave enough of a shit to speak up for him over such a thing.

"I'll play nice with a pretty lady looking to buy, but I ain't looking to play nice with a fucking mutan-"

His insult cut off by the fingers of Lucy's right hand as they collided across his cheek, the immediate ruckus caught the attention of more than one passer by as numerous guns were pulled free and triggers clicked.

"Don't be so mean!" Lucy exclaimed, righteous fury burning in her veins as she stood her ground, unaware of the growing attention her actions were pulling. "You take that back and say sorry right now."

Spluttering furiously, the humiliated man squared up to her in a moment - his hand raising in the air to meet her in turn with a harsh slap until he found his wrist captured in a punishing hold which dragged a pained squeal from his lips.

"Bad move, buckaroo."

One hand an inch away from snapping the wrist in his iron grip while his other hand held his pistol to the man's nearest thigh, Cooper pulled the trigger and offered up a vicious grin as the prick screamed bloody murder while dropping to the ground.

Cooper whirled in position as he held the attention of the gathered crowd, more than one having trained their own guns on he and Lucy as their little violent show drew an interested crowd.

"Nothing to see here folks." Cooper announced, hands sweeping outwards in a placating gesture as his pistol hung loose from his trigger finger. "Just a fella defending a very pretty lady from a fucking dumbass with a big mouth."

Said dumbass continued to yell on the ground, his leg dripping blood to the dust as he curled his hand around the wound.

By his side, Lucy matched Cooper's placating gesture as she called the crowds attention to herself with a clear of her throat.

"This man," she pointed down at him with a stern finger, her voice carrying as easily as it had across her classrooms as she considered her argument for the crowd, "started it."

A lame finish and one which Cooper barely held back a groan at as he side-eyed her with disgust. With a swift kick, he knocked the screeching man unconscious and told control of proceedings once more.

"Now, as I said, we're not looking for trouble but if trouble wants to find us then we're more than happy to meet her half way."

A vague look of recognition dawned in the features of some of those gathered and it quickly morphed into uncertainty as no one was really prepped for a full on shoot-out with a ghoul who looked comfortable with taking the kill where necessary.

With mutters of disinterest and the holstering of weapons, the few brave members of the crowd who were considering some retaliation appeared to think better of it as they rapidly upped and dispersed back to their own business.

As Cooper helped himself to a fresh head of lettuce, his other hand dropped appropriate payment to the table. His shoulders remaining hunched as the tension of potential violence refused to allow him to truly relax himself, Cooper tore the outer leaves from the lettuce before bringing it to his lips.

The crunch of his bite vaguely repulsing her, Lucy found her eyes drawn to the long line of trinkets which lay off to the stall by her side. Some looked ancient while others had the tell-tale shine of a recently-stolen object and she gazed across the collection until her eyes landed on something which sparked a firm idea in her mind.

Speaking from the side of her mouth as Cooper continued to enjoy his makeshift meal while his legs started up on a fresh journey, Lucy pointed out the object with her replaced finger.

"How much for that?"

This vendor, a one-eyed woman with filthy, matter hair which had been scraped back into a messy bun, offered little more than a casual shrug.

"Eh, eight."

"Done."

Handing over the caps and pocketing the small gift before Cooper could see, Lucy whirled on her heels and followed her ghoulish companion as he continued to devour his lettuce and stroll towards a nearby building; an advert for available rooms hanging over the double doors.

"We'll spend the night, vaultie. Daylight is fading and there's no safe place for camp nearby."

x-x-x-x-x

Payment given and room for the night secured, Lucy glanced around said room with a scrunched nose as she took in the mess.

"Wow. And they charged us for this?"

"Bed, no breakfast, vaultie." Cooper exclaimed with false cheer. "Just be thankful there's no radroaches between the sheets waiting to take a bite of your ass."

"It's not the radroaches I worry about."

The space barely fitting the large cot which functioned as a bed, Lucy shimmied around the side of it as Cooper openly chuckled at her comment and she lifted the sheets to check out the accuracy of his words - just in case.

Cooper continued, his amusement open on his features as he pulled his cowboy hat from his scalp and dropped it to the end of the bed.

"Now, a gentleman would offer the lady the bed and offer to sleep elsewhere. But I ain't no gentleman, and you're not the kind of lady to let a man get a bad back from sleeping like a dog. So, let's agree to share without argument."

Having already fucked him, Lucy shrugged her shoulders - the concept of sharing the space any other way not even having crossed her mind.

"Okay dokay."

It wasn't often Cooper removed his hat for any length of time and Lucy enjoyed the view while it lasted. The shadows of the hat tended to hide the curves of his head, from the way his cheekbones sunk into his skull to the leathered appearance of his scalp, and she narrowed her eyes slightly as she committed them to memory - her fingers itching to run across them.

So distracted, it wasn't until Cooper let out a loud sigh as his clothed body dropped to the bed that Lucy recalled her earlier purchase.

"Hey, I have something for you."

Keeping his eyes closed, Cooper tilted his lips into a smirk.

"Unless it's allowing me to snort a line of chem off a part of you of your own choosing, I ain't interested, sweetheart."

"Nasty." Lucy retorted but kept up her insistence as she nudged the bottom of his shoe with her elbow. "But really, put your hand out and I'll show you."

"Nope."

"Hand out!"

"No. Last time you got a hold of my hands you ripped half my finger off with your teeth like a feral bitch. Ain't falling for that again."

"Shut up and do it. You'll like it."

Giving a weary sigh and mumbling something about her being a nagging mare, Cooper relented and held his hand out as his arm propped his head up to allow him to watch her movements.

"I bought you something down at the market."

Dropping her hand into her pocket, Lucy pulled free the small item and placed it gently into Cooper's extended hand. "It's for your chem. It holds each vial perfectly and it'll stop them from jerking around and smashing in your jacket."

The metal component was light but sturdy enough that Cooper rolled it in his hand to test how much force it could take. His expression was blank, a strange series of emotions flitting through his chest as he considered the last time he had received a gift.

Straining his thoughts, he genuinely couldn't remember a time he hadn't had to fight or bargain for every piece of kit he owned.

It was a surprisingly thoughtful gift and one he immediately put to use as he sat upright and dropped his hand within his side pocket to pull free a few loose vials of chem. Slotting them into place, the little container held each one perfectly and Cooper's lips quirked into a hidden smile before he schooled his face back to a typical smugness.

"Bout time I got some recognition for all the hard work I've been doing here. Working myself like a pack mule to keep your stupid ass alive."

"Well, you're welcome, Cooper." Lucy rolled her eyes but her sarcastic tone dropped into something more earnest as she gazed down at him. "But I think the way that man spoke to you was wrong so I wanted to get you something nice. Because you're better than they think you are."

Looking at her with incredulity, Cooper couldn't help but scoff.

"If you think my hide is so thin that I give a fuck what they think then you don't know me at all, vaultie."

Cooper looked at her, really looked at her, and he could see the discomfort - the hatred which slid off him like water off a ducks back - settle on her skin. She was genuinely bothered by how they treated him and his ghoulish appearance, their unkindness making her unhappy with its perceived unfairness. She was naive as hell, but that unshakeable softness did amuse some part of him that often grew tired of having to fight for every fucking inch of his existence.

"Y'know what, sweetie. I just realised that I left something out there in the market. You stay here to keep the riff-raff out and I'll be back soon."

Striding out the door before the marketplace could fully shut up shop for the night, Cooper sought to even the playing field - uncomfortable fondness making him itch as an idea, much like the one which had afflicted Lucy earlier, blossomed in his mind.

x-x-x-x-x

The last gift Cooper had purchased had been a stunning silver necklace, the metalwork intricate, and he had slipped it over Barb's neck with a smile which matched her own as she watched it settle against her skin in the mirror.

Since the bombs, selfishness had become the way of the world and he wasn't anything if he wasn't quick to get with the times. But he had seen something that he thought Lucy might like.

He had spotted it earlier, the garment hanging on a thin rail with various other pieces. It was a blue slip, the fabric fine and almost like silk as it stood out against the other earthy colours which hung along its side. The ground beneath his feet felt oddly light as he trekked a rapid path back to the stall which he had perused earlier to go and snap it up.

Indicating the rail with a jerk of his hat-clad head, Cooper spoke lowly - enjoying the more relaxed atmosphere of the market as the fading day had robbed a lot of the customers from the area as they slunk off to whatever hole they'd crawled out of.

"How much for the slip?"

Barely glancing up at him, the stall girl - younger than Lucy and much blonder - glanced behind her as she counted her takings for the day, a fat pistol next to fingers to ward off any potential thieves.

"The blue one? Five caps."

Reasonable enough.

"Done." Cooper agreed, slamming the caps down on the wood with a steady hand.

Looking over the payment, the girl expertly unsheathed the slip from its hanger as she handed it over without any hesitation.

"Got a matching pair of heels for you if you want, sugar?" Her voice was surprisingly deep and Cooper held her gaze as she gave him a proper once over before meeting his eyes. "Might not match the duster though."

Tucking the fingers of his left hand in his pockets, Cooper held the slip between the clenched fist of his other hand.

"Blue ain't my colour, sweetie."

And with that, Cooper turned on his heels and headed back to his bed for the night, having concluded his business and desperate for a little bit of extended peace from the pulsing heat of the earlier day. Cooper strode back the room with purpose, forcing several people to side-step out of his way to prevent being knocked to the ground and he found his path unblocked until he stepped through the surprisingly sturdy door which separately his hired room from the outside corridor.

Lucy had made herself comfortable in his absence. Her clothing with minimal, a stained white tank top and matching cotton panties all that preserved her modesty as she reclined atop the bed - her fingers struggling to balance one of his vials of chem on their tips.

"You paying the rent to be sitting around here like a harlot?"

Caught off guard by his comment, Lucy's mouth fell open in comical shock and her eyes narrowed at the insult until she sensed the amusement rolling off Cooper as he tilted his head in her direction.

"Be nice."

"I am being nice." He countered with a grunt. "Last time I let someone share my bed looking like that they had to earn their place."

Perking up, Lucy didn't seem too put off by the idea but Cooper cut off her reply by throwing the slip at her - the thin fabric flying through the air with an almost ghost-like flourish as it landed in a crumpled mess to the side of her legs.

"What's this?"

"Eye for an eye, vaultie. I ain't having a gift hanging over my head like a fucking noose."

"Cooper!" Squealing in delight, Lucy snatched up the fabric with a wide grin and something odd curled in Cooper's chest at how enthusiastically she accepted it as her fingers smoothed it out. "It's gorgeous."

"It's what they had."

"Can I?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out, sweetie."

Without shame, Lucy snatched her tank top and bra free of her upper body and her tits bounced free in such a way that Cooper had to physically stop himself from following their motion with a slight head bob. Clenching his fist, he swallowed down the flare of arousal which pierced his groin at her brazen show of skin.

She was quick to throw the slip over head, the silken fabric trailing across her skin to settle against her frame with a delicious tightness that made Cooper immediately forgive the mild price. The blue stood beautifully against her creamy skin and the neckline was so low that it was practically obscene, the rounded edges of her areolas just beginning to peak free as she knelt up on the mattress of the bed.

"I-It's so pretty."

"Hrm."

"Did you want to see me wearing it?"

It would have been an innocent question if it weren't for the way Lucy's upper body tilted forward to flash even more of her barely concealed tits, and Cooper felt his teeth bite at his his inner mouth as she openly teased him.

"It's your gift. Do what the fuck you want with it."

"Do you want to feel what's under it?"

Asked the question as he once again dropped his hat to the end of the bed, Cooper inhaled deeply at the obvious come on and fired off a quick prayer to a non-existent god as he felt his cock twitch against his thigh. Her brazen attitude towards sex continued to surprise him in a way that he would never confess to her. Hell, he and Barb hadn't even kissed until their third date.

And yet.

Cooper was on her like a rash, his body pinning her own to the bed as he wrapped an arm beneath her shoulders and dropped the other to the hemline of the dress - teasing his fingers along the bottom.

"Are you asking me to fuck you on this here bed, Lucy Maclean?"

Still enraptured by her gift, Lucy gave a girlish giggle as she spread her thighs in open invitation, bringing one hand to his chin and tapping along his jaw as she replied. "You can do what you want with me."

"Big words, vaultie." Cooper growled and his hands worked quickly to slip her panties free - the process made easier by her raising her ass to help out. "But you think you know what I have from one fuck? You got a lot to learn, princess."

Lucy scowled at the nickname, her eyelashes batting as she narrowed her eyes at him, but he ignored it as he returned his hand to her thigh, using his wrist to push the hem of the slip up and expose every delicious inch of her sex.

"Mmm." Humming her agreement, Lucy closed her eyes as she tilted her body further into his grip - her hand coming to rest atop his own as he groped at her skin.

Dragging his first two fingers along her slit, the slight moisture there making him cock a non-existent brow, a sharp gasp escaped Lucy as her eyes flew open to meet his own.

"I can feel it."

With a push, Cooper slipped his two fingers within her hole and the digits sank into the wet, inviting warmth of her as if they were made for it and she responded in kind by clenching to pull him in deeper, immediately greedy for more.

"Well, I would hope so. We've only fucked once so I know i ain't broken it ye-"

"No. Silly man. Not that. Ugh- I mean I can feel it. My finger. It feels so different to yours. It's softer."

Caught off-guard by her comment, Cooper's fingers paused in their motions as they slowly pumped in and out of her deliciously wet cunt. He couldn't feel shit, his own body having grown used to the new finger without too much issue.

Her finger.

Return to sender, he supposed.

"Huh. Who would have thought." Cooper growled, filing her words away for future consideration. "Which feels better?"

At the question, he pulled his slickened fingers free and grazed them along her clit, the digits pushing past the protective hood to give her the fullest experience of their raw touch.

"Gosh, Cooper." Lucy whined, the immediate stimulation of her most sensitive nub causing her to jerk in place. "I don't know."

His fingers were quick to return to her cunt, pressing insistently at her hole until she swallowed him up again, grinding herself into his palm as one of her hands pinched at her left nipple through the silken slip.

"That colour is beautiful on you."

The words slipped free of Cooper's mouth before he could think too much about them but the truth of them was undeniable. A royal blue, the colour stood against her skin with pride, making her dark hair and eyes appear even more intense as they were off-set by how vivid the material was.

So engrossed by his fingers, Lucy either didn't hear him or didn't choose to respond as she continued to chase her own pleasure - her hands alternating between clutching at his leather duster and rolling across her own chest. Taking advantage of that, Cooper snatched his hand free of her and slid it within his pocket to pull free one of his small vials of chem.

"I wasn't kidding about the line, sweetheart. I'm in need of a pick-me-up and I'll let you choose the syringe."

"Thigh." Lucy responded with heat, her hands tugging the slip fully over her hips to expose her entire lower half. "You can take it from there but if I feel teeth then I'm shooting you with your own gun."

Emptying a small line of the vial onto the willing creaminess of her thigh, Cooper was quick to lick up the mixture of radaway and other addictives like a man possessed, his tongue dragging across her flesh to taste both the drugs and her sweat-slicked skin - a delight which flooded his mouth and made him shudder.

His little vaultie had a side to her that kindled that wicked sense of humour which refused to abandon him, even through the horrors he had both suffered and enacted, and in rare moments like this, Cooper felt a touch of his old self emerging; the rogue cowboy determined to play.

Cooper slipped his head higher, snaking his mouth further along the curve of her smooth skin as he kissed a sordid line along her inner thighs towards his goal. The scent of her arousal was clear, calling him towards her cunt like a sirens song as he momentarily mourned how long it had been since he'd gotten to enjoy such a simple act.

Cooper Howard had always loved giving head, almost as much as he loved getting it and goddamn if he didn't miss the feeling of having a pair of thighs warming his ears.

Lucy didn't seem to mind his eagerness as her thighs spread even wider, soft moans crossing her lips as her hands settled on the back of his head to pull him closer while he teased at her innermost thigh.

"Not even a little teeth, sweetie?" Breathing through words against her sex, Cooper didn't wait for an answer as he licked a salacious line across her slit - tasting her truly for the first time and feeling his cock jerk as it remained woefully neglected within his slacks.

Willing to deny himself for the moment as a little boon to her earlier, unexpected, defense of him, Cooper locked his hands around her thighs as he dove into the expectant meal before him. His nose bumping against her clit, his tongue immediately set to work as it followed up his initial lick with some much more controlled movements.

Lucy, her upper body reclining against the sheets, felt her breath catching in her throat at the sudden onslaught of pleasure that sparked across her cunt at his instant enthusiasm. Crying out in the quiet room, the sensation of his roughened skin pressing against her sensitive cunt was intense - his choice to devour her like a final meal making Lucy writhe in place as her hands flew to wrap around his hairless head.

Licking, biting, sucking and nibbling away at her, the lurid sound of Cooper's mouth as it worked on her cunt was obscene and Lucy locked her thighs around his head as she ground herself roughly into his face - forcing him to tactfully pull free for air when possible.

Enthralled by the little noises of pleasure which she mewled out, Cooper gathered Lucy's clit between his chapped lips and suckled it with a teasing hum. A move which almost cost him his life as her thighs clamped around his head and her fingers dug crescent shapes into his scalp as she rode herself on his mouth - her obvious and sudden orgasm even catching him by surprise as she pressed against him desperately.

Cooper snatched himself free, allowing her a small respite by lapping at her hole to gather some of his prize as it dripped free of her. The soft, dark curls which framed her cunt were wet, glistening with her arousal and Cooper found himself rolling his groin against the bedsheets to satisfy some of the need in his aching cock; his own pre-cum making the feeling in his pants more than a little uncomfortable.

"It hasn't felt like that befor- Cooper that was really good." Breathless and sated, Lucy's dark hair fanned behind her head in a mess as a hot flush stained her cheeks. Catching sight of his harsh positioning against the sheets, a sudden look of questioning entered her wide eyes and it only took a moment for her to work out what he was doing.

Lucy held back a soft laugh, as she slid her body further down the bed so that she was more in line with Cooper's positioning. Smiling brightly at him as his blazing eyes watched her with open arousal, she was unstoppable as her hand snaked its way towards his clothed cock. Her own features slack with pleasure, Lucy sighed as her hand wrapped around his cock - feeling just how hard his treatment of her had left him as he allowed her to grab him as she pleased.

"Golden rule." She muttered.

Quickly freeing his cock from its confines, his livid length jutted proudly from his groin as she ran her hand along the shaft, only pausing to gather some of the pre-cum which leaked freely from his slit to help her hand glide more smoothly. The texture of his cock against her soft fingers was so interesting that she could help but look down at her own actions, watching his cock slip between her fisted hand as she committed each inch to memory - from the darkened head to the prominent vein which ran along the underside of his shaft.

So different to anything she'd seen before.

But so goddamn good.

Already on the edge, it only took a few gentle strokes for Cooper to come undone - his balls tightening as he openly groaned out his pleasure, his lips forming around the grunts and whines without shame as his release arced gracelessly over her fist and wrist. Satisfied with her work, Lucy feel back to the sheets once more and exhaled as Cooper matched her movements; both bodies laying diagonally across the bed like marionettes with their strings long since cut.

Lucy surveyed the mess on her hand and they both lay in compatible silence, gathering their breath. Despite his ghoulish differences, his cum was just like the others - same colour and consistency.

A fact which made her wonder.

Bringing her stained hand to her lips, Lucy licked off the cum which stroked across her fingers and Cooper had to resist the pathetic urge to groan at the sight of her tasting him. Willingly. Even enthusiastically.

Fuck, she was going to kill him.

"If you're going to be doing shit like that, then you'll need to up your radaway, sweetheart. It won't knock you up but the factory that's cooking it ain't exactly meeting normal standards."

Feeling the salt and slight acridness of his release an interesting taste across her tongue, Lucy rolled to her side as she turned to face him completely. The fact that he still wanted to have sex with her after the first time made warmth spread across her skin and she basked in that satisfaction as she spread her knees slightly to take the pressure off her sensitive cunt, her entire sex feeling wet and sticky with her release and his mouth.

"It's sweet when you think of me."

Unable to help the selfish picture of her lips wrapped around his cock as she swallowed him down from flashing through his mind, Cooper was willing to allow her to continue in her more innocent reasoning of his actions as he grunted out his retort.

"I'm a charitable man when you get to know me, vaultie."

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

#damn fic ended up like 3k bigger than it was supposed to lmao #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #cooper x lucy #Lucy x cooper #cooper howard #lucy maclean #ghoul x lucy #lucy x ghoul #fallout #fallout tv series #fallout fanfic #fallout smut #cooper howard x lucy maclean #the ghoul x lucy #the ghoul x lucy maclean #fallout amazon #fallout prime

[vershl]

Okay I think I made y'all wait long enough LOL

SORRY THEY'RE ALL UNCLOTHED BTW, I HAVENT FIGURED OUT OUTFITS YET- 💀

I don't really have a lot to share tbh in terms of lore/plans. This AU is very VERY fresh in my brain atm. But I will fill in some details for you guys so you somewhat/mostly understand the current characters I have for now.

---

Shadow

He is a red diamond (ultimate lifeform yada yada), and as stated, a "blood" diamond. I mean this somewhat in modern terms, but not entirely. In real life, diamonds mined in a war zone and sold to fund the costs, hence "blood". In this case; Shadow was created by the other diamonds (primarily white) as a weapon, the plan was to have a gem on equal footing in terms of strength and power that they could order around to do their bidding and do their dirty work.

Clearly, that didn't work out the way they wanted. Shadow pretended to be obedient, following white, and the other diamond's orders. He shattered other gems for whatever reason the diamonds deemed fit (among other things I haven't decided on yet), only doing so to avoid the risk of being deemed defective and shattered himself, or the gem being shattered regardless by someone else.. he at least knew he could give them a swift end without pain.

Once Shadow gained the diamonds trust to wander around as he pleased, the moment no one was looking, he stole a ship and left Homeworld. Going as far as he could into the universe until he found Mobius and crash landed there. It wasn't very long before Sonic found him, and eventually became allies, inviting Shadow into the Crystal Gems, to which he accepted, and chose the name 'Shadow'. He didn't want to be called 'Red' or 'Red Diamond' anymore. He was free now. (This is as far as I got with him, sorry y'all HAHA)

Sonic

Sonic is a yellow prism in the shape of an isotoxal star (the yellow is a nod to super Sonic). In my AU, because offical SU lore with gems is relatively limited, different colored gems even if of the same type, give different abilities/powers. In Sonic's case, yellow prisms give the ability of super speed, because of course, and he chose his name based on that fact as well.

Lore wise with Sonic-- He's the leader of the Crystal Gems (makes more sense considering the CG's signature symbol is a yellow star, so I just ran with that but changed the normal star to the isotoxal). But that's all I have for him.

the rest of these characters have 0 lore at all, i will just try to explain their gems a bit- sorry

Amy

Amy is a Mimetite, a heart stone which helps with emotional stability, inner balance, serenity, joy, and adventure (according to google). Because Amy is basically canonically that 'therapy' friend, mimetite fits perfectly with her personality. As you can see, there are only a few designs that have weapons currently, Amy's being obvious because it's her signature weapon and just works here in the AU as well.

Tails

Tails is a yellow peridot, it's obvious why, and I don't need to elaborate LOL. There isn't much different between peridot colors, it's more-so personality traits than abilities. Green peridots are quite egotistical and arrogant in themselves, while yellow peridots are more adventurous and selfless.

Knuckles

Sorry for his naked hands btw. Honestly, I don't think I have to explain why Knuckles is a garnet. It just tracks. (Reminder that in the show, Garnet isn't a real garnet, it's just what she decided to call herself. In this case, Knuckles IS a real garnet.) Is his signature gem weapon gauntlets/gloves, yes. Did I steal the idea from Garnet? Shut up. :] Besides, Knuckles needed his usual gloves somehow, and he fights by punching shit anyway, so why not? Star on the back of the gloves ofc for obvious reasons.

Rouge

GOD this stupid bat bitch, aaaanyway, ahem. In my AU beryls are information gatherers, either by stealing it or manipulating their way into obtaining it. Beryls are generally under diamond control and report back to their assigned diamond with information they demand for, obviously Rouge is part of the Crystal Gems, so she gathers information for them. And more often than not...is her usual self, and snoops around, digging up dirty secrets/information about her comrades and teases them to no end with it (Shadow being her favorite to torment for... reasons.)

Silver

I chose Silver to be a sapphire simply because of the fact that in the Sonic universe, he can time travel. So instead of time travel in this Steven Universe AU, he gets future vision. I mean it works, right?

Blaze

We can talk about her gem right.. right? It's really tasty and I want to eat it. So; opals are very, VERY rare (which fits with her whole being a princess thing or whatever). She was originally going to be a fire opal... that is until I found out about dragon's breath opals and changed my mind. Blaze is an absurdly rare gem, who knows, maybe even the only one of her cut. :]

Her gem gives her the ability to control fire as a weapon, and her unique cut gives her fire more power as well as makes the flames an unusual pinkish hue.

---

And that's everyone for now! I'm doing some little doodles that I might post a bit later on to compile together, but you can have the two I made of Shadow for now. eats him

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #amy sonic the hedgehog #amy the hedgehog #amy rose #tails the fox #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #rouge the bat #silver the hedgehog #blaze the cat #sonadow #sonic fandom #sth #shadonic #shadow #sonic au #sonic crossover #steven universe #crystal gems

[bo0tleg]

Maverick and Rooster aren't going to be able to immediately fall back to what they were. They care for each other deeply, and saved each others life on the mission, but this sort of shit needs time. One conversation isn't going to cut it with those two.

Look: I like the idea of them falling back into what they were before just as much as the next person, but that's.... not what realistically would happen. And that's ok! It makes sense for them not to know what to do with each other at the start.

For the record: I'm also not blaming anyone for writing fics about them immediately going back to the father-son or uncle-nephew dynamic because, because come on. It's cute as HECK! I'd just like to think about how to explore their feelings and hang-ups about each other in dept!

They're both stubborn fucks and this has been simmering for far too long for anything to be resolved instantly with a single conversation. Bradley un-learned how to talk honestly to people the day he left, and Mav's scared about what honesty can bring. They've sat on this pot for so long they no longer feel it burning their asses, and forgot what they put in the damn thing in the first place, so they stay there. On top of it. Still burning their asses.

Bradley holds onto grudges like it's a lifeline, and one mission isn't going to change that. He listened to Mav in the canyon because he rescinded what he had said with his actions. Mav said that he 'wasn't ready' but then chose Rooster as his wingman, communicating that he is ready and that he trusts him with his life. But that was a life or death situation that Rooster was both present in and could interfere in if he so chose. He saved Mav because he didn't want him to die, and they seem more inclined to deal with it back on the boat, but it's still a long road ahead.

What happened was they rekindled their care for each other, because neither had ever truly given up on it in the first place. Mav never stopped caring and knew it, Bradley did the same without knowing. This just so happens to be the first time they're forced to deal with each other since the fallout.

Just because they care about each other doesn't erase the history that's separated them for all of this time. In fact, it probably makes it worse.

Bradley thought highly of Mav, and he didn't live up to it. Mav wanted the best for Bradley, and did what he thought would be best. Their problems came from the root of care. And it's more bittersweet because of it.

Because of it, resentment and guilt have settled over their shoulders, respectively, and it refused to go away.

They talk, and they try, but it's still not great.

Mav is inclined to just sweep it all under a rug and ignore the lump it forms on the floor. Because of his guilt, he takes all of the blame and sugarcoats Bradley's part in said blame to try and make up for it. Bradley is just as fault as Mav is, but Mav doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So instead of fixing things, they look slightly less crooked, but not entirely right. It's a 'their problem' not 'his problem'. They're both at fault, and they both need to deal with it.

Maverick refuses to give up any of the blame, and Bradley is going to refuse to take any of it.

Sure, Mav fucked up, but Bradley blew it out of proportions. Storming off and refusing to talk is a normal response, but not for fifteen years. He barely let Mav explain himself.

Everything "wrong" about himself he blames on Mav. He thinks that Mav fucked him up by breaking his trust as his father figure, so he doesn't trust anybody anymore. He thinks that him being completely emotionally stunted and sensitive to critique is Mav's fault because of the 'your not ready' comment.

Thing is, it's his own fault. It's his fault that he's been fucked up for so long because he never tried to fix what was broken. It's not Bradley's fault that Mav pulled his papers, but he threw away everything, everyone he had before because of a single (justifiable!) mistake. And he doesn't recognize it for what it is, and refuses the blame. Carting it all off to Mav instead of dealing with his own shortcomings.

Mav is aware of this (that Rooster refuses to take the blame), but agreed with Rooster in his analysis of the situation, and takes it all on himself, which is not a healthy mechanism for either of them. It pats Rooster on the head for somewhere he fucked up on, and overloads Mav with guilt that shouldn't be that intense and deep.

But they don't know this. So Mav isn't angry at Rooster, because he's blindsighted by his care.

Thing is, I want someone to be angry. I want someone to be offended on Mav's behalf because he himself won't do it. I don't know who it would be, could be a good number of people, maybe even a child OC.

For fifteen years Bradley left without looking back. He left, and Mav suffered. Someone saw that. Someone was there with him all or most of those years, sitting right beside him as his guilt grew with every holiday that went by, with every letter or call left unanswered.

The obvious option is Ice. However, I want to pull away from that option, because if Ice is dead (stay with me now) it only creates more conflict, more nuance to what's going on.

Bradley cut Mav out of his life, and it's implied that he cut out any association with him too. That includes Ice.

What if he never spoke to Ice either for those fifteen years? Ice died. Bradley went to his funeral. Bradley went to his funeral as a fellow aviator, as an underling obeying orders.

Bradley's face in that funeral was blank.

That is the face of a man watching the burial of someone he once could potentially have considered a father figure that he hadn't spoken with for fifteen years. And he's never going to be able to speak to him again.

At that funeral, I don't think he regretted it. Sad, maybe, but no regret.

The regret only hit later.

He got to mend things with Mav after the Uranium Mission and beyond, but that is no longer possible with Ice.

Bradley regretted what he did, how he neglected them for years, but he regretted it too late for one of them.

I think Brad probably ended up at Ice's grave at some point, and owned up to everything he didn't– couldn't– own up to at the funeral. And he fucking sobbed. Begged. Apologized, over and over.

This is the reason I suggested maybe a child OC, because if the child is Icemav's or just Ice's, Bradley's gonna have a warped perception of them. (Note: When I say "child" I mean that it was their child as in gender neutral for son/daughter, it doesn't necessarily mean the person in question should be an actual kid.)

Bradley's gonna see that kid as penance.

And they're gonna fucking hate him for it.

Bradley is going to look at them and see Ice, and they're gonna hate him for it. Their father is dead, and for the last fifteen years of his life he'd never been truly happy because this prick never bothered to own up to his mistakes. Not even at the funeral Bradley owned up to his shortcomings, and now all of a sudden he waltzes right back like he never left? What the fuck!

Bradley could have done this, idk like a week sooner? But he only came to his senses after Ice died. Their father died and Bradley barely looked like he cared is what they're going to think. But all of a sudden, he goes on a suicide mission and almost died and he's suddenly back? Because when his own life is in danger he changes his mind, but when Ice died he couldn't care less? What the fuck!

That man went to that funeral as a subordinate, not as the son he was.

The kid doesn't have the tinted lenses Mav has on about Bradley. All the resentment Mav doesn't feel, this kid is going to feel for him.

Bradley is going to understand their resentment because of Ice, and is going to focus on fixing that part with them, without noticing that the resentment isn't just because of Ice, it's about Mav too.

The kid is going to be pissed because they are not Ice. Bradley is going to be too worried about making it up to a dead man through his child that he's going to neglect the very much still alive man he ALSO has to make amends with.

But Ice didn't have a direct hand in pulling his papers, so Bradley understands his mistake with him (he shouldn't have cut him out over someone else's mistake). Mav, however, did have a direct hand and he's still bitter about it. And the kid sees it. They see him doing exactly that.

Bradley is focusing on the wrong thing, because he's trying to redeem himself in an impossible way, trying to answer to someone who no longer demands it.

He goes after it because the silence is a more comfortable answer than the conflict he's bound to face from someone who's still alive.

In the process, he's going to hurt Mav.

Bradley's gonna be so caught up in making it up to Ice (the one he can no longer make up to) that he doesn't think to properly make it up to Mav (the one he can still make it up to) because he thinks he has to.

Ice is gone. Ice is gone and there's nothing he can do about it. And If he'd just changed his mind earlier maybe there could have been. Admittedly, Ice still would have died, but maybe he'd have died more settled than he did. He'd have died with the knowledge that his son came back. That his son still cared. But he didn't, and Bradley hates himself for it.

So, he veers to the kid. He doesn't outright apologize other than the first time, but he's gonna treat them like either a piece of glass or a carbon copy of his father figure. Regardless, they're going to hate him for it.

It's not them he cares for, it's what he sees them as. They can see straight through his bullshit because there's no deep emotional connection there to blind them.

They could try to care and love for him for Mav's sake, but it'd be much better if it were on their own terms, that Bradley would care for them as them and not as Ice's child.

On top of that, the neglect Bradley has for Mav is humongous. And he himself doesn't see it because the resentment he feels is still there. Mav was the one who pulled his papers. He blames Mav for his own decisions.

He's alone, and he blames Mav. He doesn't let anyone in or near, and he blames Mav. But it wasn't Mav that made him shut everyone out, he did that on his own.

He hasn't thought about why Mav did what he did, choosing to believe what Mav claimed to be the reason. It's blatantly obvious that Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell of all people would never stop someone from going to the Academy because he thought they aren't capable. That's what they did to him, he's not going to do that to someone who is virtually his son.

Bradley was irrational and stuck to that irrationality for fifteen years. He used the emotional stuntedness he himself created as a guise to not actually process what happened. He refused to think about it, and still does.

He and Mav reconnected after the mission, but it's a frail margin. Bradley was more inclined to listen because he's confused that Mav cares at all. In his rage, he didn't notice that he did it out of love, and doesn't know what to do with it. The entire training, he's confused, pissed and uncertain all the while.

He still doesn't know the real reason Mav did what he did, and doesn't understand the love he still sees in his eyes. Rooster thought that he shattered everything he had with Mav when he felt, most of all cemented it with all the time spent in that state.

By the end of the movie, he knows for certain that Mav loves him, and understands that he, himself, never stopped loving Mav either, despite what he claimed.

Bradley wanted to be a pilot because of his dad. Goose wasn't a pilot. Maverick was.

The betrayal hit him harder because he wasn't running after Goose, he was looking up to Mav. He wanted to be like Mav.

And he became a pilot, even when Mav pulled his papers, even after having the person he did it all for ripped him into shreds. He still did it.

He still wanted to be like Mav. Deep down, he still saw him as a role model even through all of the repression.

But he still doesn't know why. He doesn't know why Mav did what he did, because Maverick himself refused to say why.

Mav isn't going to be doing great either. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. He shouldn't have pulled Bradley's papers, period. I know about Carole, but still. He should have communicated with Brad about it, and they'd fight about it, but Bradley wouldn't have walked out to never return then.

To worsen matters, Maverick has a horrendous martyr complex that makes him take the brunt of Bradley's resentment instead of Carole, the actual perpetrator.

Over the years, he's blamed himself more and more every year that passed, but I don't believe he ever regretted it.

He fulfilled Carole's last wish. It didn't stop Rooster from becoming a pilot. He gave both of them what they wanted.

But he's trying to protect the Carole Bradley has in his head because he doesn't want to stain his memory of her as he did with himself. This has been discussed a hundred times over, so I will try to be brief.

Mav is scared that instead of him, Bradley's gonna resent his mother. His dying, cripple mother that said that in her death bed. His widow mother who saw her husband die in the skies and didn't want her baby boy to have the same fate. His sorrowful mother that had to watch her friend, someone she considered a little brother, keep going up into those same skies and hear all the whispers the people on the ground flung upon him because of it.

So he took it all on himself. Because he sees himself as expendable in favor of her.

So, safe to say he's not going to be the one to tell Bradley the truth. Because of it, Bradley's resentment is going to continue to fester.

After the mission, Bradley knows that Mav's not telling him everything, but he refuses to talk about it so what the hell is he going to do?

They fix things well enough for them to talk to each other, but don't make it too deep in fear of opening up more wounds instead of stitching the old ones back together.

Mav thinks this is as good as he can get. Bradley is annoyed at Mav's hesitance.

Despite mending things, Bradley is still going to think all of his problems are Mav's fault. And he's a petty bitch, so he won't let it slide.

He hasn't properly processed it due to the lack of information, and can't let go because of it.

He's going to slip in dry comments about how Mav affected his mental health and life because of what he did. He's going to be cagey about everything that happened in the in between. He's not going to know basic shit about Mavericks life because he refuses to acknowledge that he was wrong in more than one way.

And Mav's gonna fucking take it.

He's not gonna say anything, not gonna even defend himself because he thinks he deserves it.

Bradley is a stubborn fuck whose pride has been hurt once, and refuses to acknowledge that it could be hurt again. He's just like Mav when he was younger, but ten times worse in the emotional department (I have no fucking idea how he managed that, but he did).

So yeah, soon enough they're going to be balls deep in miscommunication with grudges held close to their chest.

Maverick wants to communicate but doesn't want to communicate a very important piece of information that could potentially make things better and Bradley straight up doesn't want to if he doesn't have to.

Which means they're going to come to a stand-still. And someone is gonna have to interfere.

If I were to guess, it'd either be Slider or Sarah (Kazansky). Regardless if Sarah is Ice's sister or wife (up to interpretation), she knew how important Mav was to Ice and obviously cares about him too from the few scenes we got of her. Slider also knows, and it's obvious he also genuinely cares about Mav too despite claiming otherwise.

I'd honestly vote for Slider to be the one to do it, simply because he'd also see the Ice favoritism and the Mav neglect, and would pull Bradley's ear about it to hell and back. Because he also knew Goose, and this... entire thing is not something Goose would be happy about, at all. Slider has a much more subdued connection to Bradley, so he'd have no qualms about calling him out on everything.

Especially if he ever found out that Bradley said 'My dad trusted you, I'm not going to make the same mistake.' I sorely believe Slider would end up in jail if he ever heard about that one.

If Sarah were the one to do it, she'd probably be more understanding and much less violent than Slider, but she'd be blunt. That's still someone she cares deeply for they're talking about, and she also saw all of it. She wouldn't sugar coat what needs to be said, but she'd be understanding too. Not you did nothing wrong kind of understanding, but a you had your reasons to be upset kind of understanding.

Either of them would probably do this without Maverick's consent, because that's the only way to get it done.

When Bradley finally comes to know exactly why Mav did what he did, he's gonna be in shambles. Not only for Mav, but for himself.

His entire life has been built around that single happenstance and now it's gone, he was wrong. He was so wrong. He can't go back to being the way he was, he doesn't remember how he was.

He's gonna have to start over, rebuild himself from the ground up to be someone better and spare everyone in his life the suffering. Everyone in his life has suffered the consequences of his resentment. He doesn't know if he can make up for it.

To start over, step number one is apologize.

This right here is were he finally lets his ego drop, and fully apologizes to Mav. Finally owns up to his mistakes to the person that deserves it most. He's not gonna leave Mav be, he's definitely going to demand a full explanation from him and then is going to scold him for it, but he's gonna finally fully let go of the grudge he held this entire time.

That's to say, everything isn't a sea of roses.

Maverick isn't the only person he needs to apologize to, and on top of it, Maverick is probably the only one who is going to let him down easy.

Bradley is going to be on a tight leash with everybody else for a while, and they don't have any hold ups about calling him out on his bullshit. He's going to need to learn how to take critique to improve himself rather than read it as a straight up insult that he's going to get mad about.

Maverick is going to need to learn that Bradley isn't going to up and leave, and that he shouldn't hold himself to such low standards. Not only that, he's also going to need to learn that Bradley is bound to make mistakes just like any other human.

Bradley is still gonna fuck up in some places, but he's gonna be better at recognizing it. Mav's also gonna fuck up sometimes, but he's going to get better at accepting it and moving on.

With time, Mav is going to call Bradley out on his bullshit too, and Bradley is going to do the same when Mav starts doing his 'I'm less important than other people' shit.

They're going to be sad about it because they think that the reason the other does some of the things they do is because of themselves, but that's a story for another time.

They try. That's what matters.

#by the lord this is basically a fic in and of itself #I am so sorry this is so long #if this has all been said before in like hundreds of Hangster fics and im a dumbass I apologize #I don't read Hangster #perhaps I only ever see Mav's side on this because of it #that's why I focused so hard on Bradley's here #I know this sounds a lot like rooster slander but I swear it wasn't meant to be #Rooster is incredibly emotionally constipated and there's no way in hell they'd fix everything immediately #he's held onto the grudge this long #there's no way he's letting it all go all at once #that's only going to hurt him #like when you run a marathon #you're not supposed to stop all at once. it needs to be a slow decent in speed #otherwise you're going to get fucked up by yourself. #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #top gun #top gun 1986 #tgm #tg86 #character analysis #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #top gun maverick #iceman x maverick #tom iceman kazansky #me: says that the child OC doesn't necessarily need to be a kid #also me: proceeds to call them 'kid' one line down

[littleholmes]

If no one else has the guts to do it, then I’ll be the monster!

This…makes so much sense.

I’m gonna ramble for a second but—damn. It really goes back to when Satoru and Suguru were in high school and those pivotal losses of Amanai and Haibara that really forced these two to confront the horrible reality that is their jujutsu society.

From birth, everything has been riding on Satoru Gojo. He’s had to do everything because he’s the Six Eyes and has the Limitless technique and it’s just expected. He’s had bounties and death threats since before he could crawl, and he’s grown up as the strongest and has had to do so much for the jujutsu society because that’s his role. That’s the expectation. He’s had to bear the burden of the whole jujutsu world riding on him and he’s been lonely at the top—until Suguru, who was the closest to his equal in power. Both of them experienced the day Amanai was killed, and Satoru immediately went into “why don’t we just kill them?” mode, but they didn’t.

Then later when Haibara died and Nanami wanted to just leave everything to Satoru, Suguru was reminded that this jujutsu world they’re in has so much hinging on sorcerers as cogs in the machine and pawns in the sacrifice, and that Satoru holds the most amount of power—and it still isn’t enough. When he saved Mimiko and Nanako and chose his path, he tried to get Satoru to join him so they could both just end this and stop being pawns and take control instead of being controlled, but they separated and went about it in differently, each becoming monstrous in their own ways—and it wasn’t enough. It still isn’t enough.

No matter what he does, sorcerers are still being sacrificed, the youth of young sorcerers keeps getting snatched away and replaced with death and stress and fighting much like it was for Suguru and Shoko and himself, and unnecessary losses keep happening and the higher ups are in on it, so many people are in on it, and he’s still the biggest player on the chessboard, so he couldn’t get away and live on his own terms like Suguru, who surpassed him in one of the biggest ways, and that’s by leaving this system and doing things for himself without the higher ups and the other head families further using him and his abilities as the last bastion of safety.

They were both the strongest but there was only one Satoru Gojo and he couldn’t just leave. He had to stay, continue to be the monster, and be alone the entire time as he gets used by the system. Even after death he’s needed and I just…damn this jujutsu society. And one of the last things he could do to help his students is take out the higher ups so if they make it out and survive this, the jujutsu society hopefully will change and the students can have a chance at a future and a different life than his and Suguru.

Idk I’m rambling and I’m sure this doesn’t make sense and, as always I’m tagging in @psychewritesbs but the jujutsu society is so awful and it made a monster out of Satoru and Suguru and they’re both collateral in this machine that is still churning and using these students and sorcerers who get nothing in return but death, and few to no options as they continue to move forward and dismantle these generations-old systems (Maki and the Zenin clan, Satoru and these higher ups, Yuta and Kenjaku (and then reclaiming Kenjaku’s technique for good)) and try to win this so they can hopefully, maybe, perhaps, possibly reclaim their futures.

#jjk #jjk 261 #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #suguru geto #jjk manga spoilers #yuta okkotsu #jjk manga #jjk thoughts #jujutsu kaisen manga #jujutsu kaisen manga spoilers #jjk analysis #idk i’m rambling #geto suguru #maki zenin #okkotsu yuuta #gojou satoru

[rriavian]

Major spoiler warning for the end of The Sandman comics below. Please scroll if you haven't read that far or just if you'd like to avoid them. I've tried to make sure I've tagged properly but just wanted to add an additional warning.

Ok so a while ago @two-hands-toward-the-sun made a post about Daniel Hall and Calliope meeting after he becomes Dream, and it made me curious so I started thinking about what that would be like. Below is the resulting ficlet :)

-

There was a question to be asked when Calliope arrived.

The Furies attack had made its mark, scars left on a realm whole but still healing. Despite that she found the Dreaming felt unchanged; still ever shifting, a constancy in how it reflected every Dreamer, in how it reflected Dream.

That same quality carried, that sense of the new in the old, observed when Calliope met Dream of the Endless in his palace and found him at once so recognisable and yet so very unfamiliar. She found it in hair as white as she knew it had been once before, as she knew it had been so very long ago, Calliope found it in eyes that had never been green but had always been starlit. This was the same sky, just as likely to turn black, currently content to match shades with the emerald hanging around a pale neck, its gold chain glimmering against the now white clothes. It made the pain somewhat easier to feel, made the loss somewhat clearer too, the cut cleaner.

Perhaps it would never heal but the wound wasn’t ragged.

Calliope smiled. “What would you like me to call you?”

For the first time he smiled too.

It was a fine thing for that to be the first thing she witnessed, the first discovery she made of him. Calliope had not seen it on this face—younger, so similar and yet not that at all—watched and learnt the way these features softened and found it lovely. 

“Daniel.” He said; still Dream’s voice, low and soft, not quite like hearing a ghost though, not when the voice of a dream had always been so much more than what was left by the dead. “I chose it.”

There was pride in that.

A child’s. Not immature, just fresh, untainted. Calliope's smile widened even as tears began to well in her eyes. “Very well then Daniel.”

“You may also call me Dream.” He added. 

Calliope nodded. “It’s who you are.”

Another smile.

“It is.”

-

Calliope had been invited.

She found herself curious as to why now.

“What has made things different?” Calliope asked, knowing she was here for more than to attend a funeral. “Morpheus was never ready, you are all he was…”

Daniel waited once she trailed off.

He stood silent while confirming that Calliope wasn’t going to continue. It was only then that Dream picked up the thread Calliope had dropped, it was only then that he revealed that he'd caught it as it fell. “You wish to know what I gained?”

It wasn’t a surprise that he’d untangled her question so effortlessly.

Calliope found that remained just as unsettling as Dream’s perception could so often be. Precise in the way a scalpel was; it cut out only what was needed, went as deep as was required by the wound, cut expertly but it still cut. He was right. Calliope did wish to know what he’d gained, though until he’d said that she’d not been sure it was the right word, the right definition. Daniel Hall had been human. Morpheus had always been Endless.

Calliope didn’t know what to think of the amalgamation of that.

Perhaps she never would, but she could still use a perception all her own to try and find both sides of its coin. “Yes, what you gained…and what you lost.”

“I…” Dream paused but didn't stumble, paused not to find the words but to feel them. “I lost them both. I gained them both. We joined and so became new.”

“Changed.”

“Yes.” He shrugged, so simple a motion for so large a truth. “What is that for one such as me? What can it be. To change is to die, and to die is to change.”

“Our son died.” Calliope said quietly.

“I know.” Daniel said. “I know what that is now.”

“I don’t.” Calliope admitted, her own simple statement for far too large a truth. “Not like a mortal does. How can I mourn when—“

Daniel took her hand. “You can mourn with me.”

Oh.

He was kind, wasn’t he?

So very kind, just like her Oneiros had been. Daniel was dark like him too; sharp, resplendent in it, somehow refreshed like a mortal was after a long sleep, less worn and weary in a world the same as when they'd closed their eyes. The nightmare in him reborn too, as it should be, that cruel aspect rejuvenated because it had never been a wound to cast out. Calliope had never needed to find Dream in the darkness, had never forgot enough of him to try, had known no hand was needed to pull him out of what might be dark but would always be him.

The full spectrum of what a dream was; Dream was as soft as he was sharp, the hand that now held Calliope's was as cold as the action was warm, Dream was cruel—

He was kind.

“It takes time, doesn’t it? For us.” Calliope said quietly, part of her always standing two thousand years away. “How long can grief last when one lives forever.”

Daniel considered that for a moment, heard its threat, its hope. “Perhaps even grief must die.”

“Must change?”

He smiled, this time a little impish, a mischievousness familiar and utterly unique. “Indeed.”

Calliope sighed. “I do not think mine can change the way yours did.”

“No.”

“I suppose that is true for humans too.” Calliope continued, then tested specifics, tested going as far down another thread as she could and wondering if he might once again pick it up. “For other parents. Other mothers.”

Calliope didn't trail off this time, dropped the thread all the same, deliberate and—

It changed hands.

“I have lost a son,” Dream said, his eyes as green as the place where the Bacchante had torn Orpheus apart, as green as the forest that had continued growing nonetheless. “And I have been a son who is lost. I have been taken and I have been taken from. I know what hurts you, Calliope the muse, and I would mourn with you if you’d allow me.”

“You lost a mother.” Calliope realised; breathed it like an ode, where grief expressed the fullest, felt an answer resonate as what could only be given as poetry.

“I am Daniel.” He said, somehow agreed, somehow refuted too, both acknowledged what grief that was and what it couldn’t be. His pause was what lay between stanzas, what inspired the next one to begin. “But I am not Daniel Hall.”

Oh Dream. 

A baby had died—oh that hurt, the thought of Orpheus dead like that, the thought of him having so little time—a mother grieving what could never, ever come back. They had spoken of loss, of Morpheus, of Daniel, because there were really two deaths in this one life. A new pain in that to match what else was gained. Refreshed Dream may be but there was always a burden to bear, always one to carry. That was life, was dreams and nightmares, was balance and perhaps it was restricting to call that a caveat. It was neutrality perhaps, a scale that could tip both ways.

It wasn’t failure that made this hurt.

Calliope nodded. “Then perhaps we can mourn him too?”

Perhaps Dream had tested the dropping of a thread this time. Daniel stilled, looked at her searchingly; eyes now black and aglow with stars, the wonder of looking up at the sky, the wonder of looking down at the earth. They shared that between them. Calliope found herself remembering Orpheus—a child asking to stay up late, an adult asking if she’d like to meet his future wife—remembered a searching look that said I need to be sure.

That said do you really mean it?’

She’d never seen it in Dream, found it now. This fragile sort of wondering, this want revealed as if he’d not yet thought he’d be given the gift. 

As if he’d not known he’d be granted the right. 

Dream nodded at last. 

“Yes.”

#dream of the endless #Daniel Hall #Calliope #Calliope & Daniel Hall #sandman comic spoilers #sandman spoilers #major sandman spoilers #this has been a wip for a while #hope you enjoy! #sandman fic #rria writes #ficlet

[coffee-with-mint-syrup]

Look, I didn't want to be "that" person

who criticizes something just because "it was different in the books".

But I love PJO just way too much to not feel frustrated at the tendencies of modern adaptations that I think new series is suffering from. And I feel much more frustrated because in others aspects the new show is great.

First of all, what's with this downplayed brutality of PJO world? The moment Sally started her speech about Perseus I smelled trouble. In her story, in her reasoning she named him after Perseus because of this beautiful story where happy ending is just something that happens. While in the books thats a huge deal that Percy is named after THE ONLY HALF-BLOOD HERO that had that happy ending. That fact is supposed to highlight the mortality rates and that for most of these demigods happy ending is pretty much NOT IN PROSPECT. Like, despite that rambling post I'm usually fine with some differences that are made in adaptations, most of them I usually can understand. But why do you need change the message of "I named you that way because I hope you will live happily ever after despite being in constant danger" to "I named you that way because it's a beautiful story about a mother and a son"? Especially when they absolutely could do both?

Secondly, the Gabe issue. You see, Percy Jackson books were great because they were able to discuss with children some pretty heavy themes without downplaying them - like domestic abuse. And that scene with poker players and Gabe getting from Percy money was brilliant because it showed that Gabe was so awful that he took everything he could even from a 12 y.o. There were also heavy implications that he beat Percy. But now Gabe is just your usual jerk who is lazy and doesn't have a good relationship with his stepson and argues with his wife all the time. Look, I know, that is awful too, I know that. But the point of Gabe that he was absolutely the worst. That he's the worst of the worst that's why he smells on this metaphysical level and is able to hide Percy. That he kinda deserved what happened to him in the end. And now I sure that we won't get that end because apparently that stuff is too brutal for kids. If they're afraid that much younger audience would get shocked by it they could at least do that in hints, you know. Old shows were great with things that you didn't understand as a child and then later while rewatching them you finally could get the message.

And what's with this Grover thing? Okay, I understand they probably didn't have the time for establishing why Percy would feel betrayed by his teacher but wanted to save this "low point" for Percy's character. But why? Why? How Percy as a character and we as viewers are supposed to feel that amazing friendship if it started for us with betrayal? That just sucked.

Also, personal flaw - they really could insert "This is a pen" line when Brunner gave Percy the pen. They really could and that would be so awesome. But they didn't.

And the sad part is that now I understand that there was no way they could include this important stuff in the series. Because Disney is too afraid to show domestic abuse. They afraid to show Sally Jackson that put up with heavy abuse just to keep her son safe. They afraid to show that literal children die in PJO world. That that half-blood stuff is no game - as Percy said in the very first minute of the series. For fuck's sake they didn't even mention him having ADHD! They implied that by saying that he was being weird! That was so so so so important that those things that kids with ADHD are struggling make them so special and strong in their own way. And now that message is gone too.

And all of that is because Disney doesn't have any balls left. It's like they sanitize everything they make into that 0+ versions of stories while sometimes the point of the story is in discussing something from a real, sad and unsanitized world.

The stuff I listed is just from the first episode and I don't know if the show will go that way, if this tendency of sanitizing the story will continue or not. I'm just really afraid that all of that means that they decided to leave out all the brutality that made Percy Jackson so iconic. It is like watching this new version of Harry Potter where he doesn't live under the stairs - that maybe doesn't change much story-wise but it's just not the same Harry Potter that way.

I want to like the show, I really do. Walker is so amazing is this role. Other actors are really great. I see the effort, I see how people tried to make this adaptation as close to books as they could. The show looks truly amazing. The fight with minotaur was absolutely stunning. Ending sequence is a masterpiece. I have so many good things I can say about it. But those little things they changed - they weren't little at all. A huge chunk of what made those books so special at least for me is gone (especially in comparison with Harry Potter books). And I can't help feeling sad.

#i'm really sorry for being bitter #i promise you i'm not one of those angry “it wasn't in the book!” fans #i feel alright with changes and sacrifices that were made for the adaptation #it's just the things they chose to change if this makes sense #that is saying something and i don't like the way it goes #maybe it will turn out fine in the end #i really hope so #no intention of hating something here #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson series #long post #spilled thoughts #sorry for rambling

[mishtershpock]

.

#okay i’m gonna try to keep this short and sweet. 30 tag maximum you are my nemesis lol #my main issue here is not necessarily that the karaoke and other bach party scenes have likely been cut #it’s more that they’re clearly buddie baiting for engagement #journalists were watching the episode as early as saturday. which means the ep was ready by at least this time last week #so they knew that the scenes had been cut. and they chose to continue including it in promotion and interviews #i KNOW that logically the reason they chose those scenes to cut was because they’re less important. and we’d already seen them #they technically already gave us the clips in the promo videos. right? so bye bye #but that’s bullshit. sorry #they used buddie best friendism content as a way to promote the ep and increase hype #and then they just pull it out from under us the day before it airs #this is a madney episode. madney are getting married. buddie having fun is not the most important thing here. i get it #so why did they not promote something else? you’re telling me there was NOTHING ELSE they could’ve used? #nothing else from the episode that was free of big spoilers? at all??? #it’s madney’s episode but they chose to promote one clip of buddie talking to maddie. one of chim crawling. and the bach party stuff #they must know that people would focus on the bach party. buddie is beloved buck and eddie are beloved #what were they expecting?? #they used buddie as a pairing as bait. not queer bait and not even ship bait i suppose as there was nothing ‘shippy’ shown #but they baited buddie content. that’s literally what’s happened #i would be more understanding if this wasn’t a regular occurrence. it’s normal sure. shows do this all the time with fan faves #but also it is a false reflection of the episode. even journalists are saying the episode is not what they expected from the promo #it honestly feels like they’ve made fools of us. maybe the episode will air and it’ll be better than expected #but i don’t have much hope not much hope for buddie. not much hope for madney getting what they deserve. ZERO hope for eddie’s 7b storyline #frankly i’m expecting b/t to be the main chat after this ep. which is……. anyway #i’m not really liking s7 so far and i feel gaslit when people say it’s great lol #IN MY OPINION it is choppy and too fast and a little ooc and doesn’t make a lot of sense #they didn’t even green light bi!buck until episode. what. 2/3?? #so presumably had to change everything from then on #i know that’s partly down to limited episode numbers but… 3 eps for the cruise (unnecessary) but 1 for madney wedding? ok #sigh. if anyone’s read this far pls don’t come for me ok. these are just my opinions #we’re all entitled to them. i’m sad for madney and i’m sad for buddie best friendism and i’m sad for s7 as a whole right now

[cinnamon-phrog]

Okay so you're telling me.

That the sequel to a movie that broke my heart not once but twice.

Is coming out JUNE 19TH.

THE DATE OF THE HYPERFIXATION THAT REPLACED IT.

#WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT #IT FEELS PLANNED FOR ME SPECIFICALLY #pixar what are you planning buddy i just wanna talk 🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫 #see when i was a little kid baby my favourite thing Ever was Toy Story #like i adored it and waited for the fourth movie until i was 12 #i was still into it until i was 14!!!!!!!!! don't laugh /hj the tism chose it not me #d/hmis replaced it and i like it much less dependently. i wasn't grasping at straws i actually LIKED EVERYTHING in it #whereas i'd lost interest after the fourth movie and was more just holding on to it because a friend was into it. i still like it though #just not the way i used to #d/hmis possibly getting a new season or smthn and the fandoms' fucking nightmare #and ts5 coming on the DATE that most people associate with d/hmis #it feels like it's trying to make it up to me if that makes sense. it knows smthn i don't #the date coyld change bc there's two more years to go #but hoooooooooly cow. anything coyld happen #yellow could be confirmed to be a foetus. red and duck could be 🤢🤢🤢🤢 monogamous 🤮🤮🤮🤮 #heavens forfend!!!!! #it's like it's trying to get REVENGE on them istg #if the second or third season comes out on the same day i'll start screaming bc ain't no WAY man

[an-orca-on-a-stroll]

wanted to share some pics of my durge :D his name is blade, he's a ranged champion fighter with a bit of gloomstalker ranger, so he's like a sharpshooter and prefers stealth, but being a drow + high dexterity means he can use finesse weapons so he's not afraid to get all close and personal and thrust a rapier through someone's skull every now and then. chaotic neutral, he enjoys some casual murder and the occasional massacre (he definitely had a good time killing all those goblins). he absolutely will kill you if he finds you annoying, also he enjoys fucking with or antagonizing people and is generally a menace. is pretty arrogant, acts kinda high and mighty sometimes, definitely made some questionable decisions that got him (and the party) in trouble by being a little shit at inappropriate times. but he likes children and usually helps them (not always kindly but. y'know. he does help them), likes animals (rip to that squirrel though) and is very loyal to those he considers his friends and if someone tries to hurt them he will tear off their limbs and start beating that person with them. then gouge out their eyes and kill them in the worst most painful way etc etc. his besties are astarion lae'zel and shadowheart. isn't he adorable

I just got to the start of Act 3 (after 3 months of playing, my job is killing me) dunno what route im going for if good or evil idk im just vibing also i have the durgetash brainrot so who knows he might become evil if gortash asks him who said tjat. anyway

#bg3 #started the game completely blind & with zero dnd knowledge & i went yknow what. i want to make a stupidly edgy hot-topic ass character #so i did. great decision by the way im having a blast and i got stupidly attached to him so. #fun fact blade was actually a placeholder name bc i didnt know what tf to name him and i just wanted to start playing #and the last thing i played was hsr and i had (still have tbh) the blade brainrot and its a pretty cool name so #thought i would change it but it grew on me #i hc that he didnt remember his name after the nautiloid so he chose a random name. like uhhh what is it im holding. a dagger? blade it is #then in act 3 he starts to remember his past and he also remembers his real name. which i dont know what it is. im working on it #another fun fact hes a seldarine drow but i didnt know that only lolth-sworn drows have red eyes #bc i knew fuckall about dnd when i started playing and i just thought red eyes were cool #so now i hc that the red eyes are bc of his father #does it make sense idk. my playthrough my city now

[fruitsofhell]

Last reblog has me thinkin a lot about Kirby remakes. You have Kirby’s Adventure and NiD where the artstyle is so glaringly different between the two it’s like you have to choose a side. And from what I’ve seen the fandom tends to (intelligently) show favoritism towards the original NES look. 

Then you have KSS and KSSU, the base of the last post, and I find the differences between the games to be slight yet substantial. Maybe I’m just blind and all 16-bit games look the same to me, but I couldn’t even tell the sprites were different the first time I played KSSU, but after actually playing KSS I could really feel the difference. The original has a much harsher and more gritty style, that I think a lot of people feel hasn’t aged well, but atleast I still think has tons of merit. For certain characters who need that darker or more expressive touch like Meta Knight and Marx I find the old sprites more flattering in a way. And I think the garishness of the pre-rendered backgrounds SHINES in Meta Knight’s Revenge because that sort of gross clash against the usual style is heightened for a mode about Meta invading with his war ship and foreign ideals.

But that actually brought me to our latest remake in RTDL DX. And like there is nothing really WRONG with the new style, it just makes me miss the wii game. The wii game looked basic in a really charming and balanced way that I think is lost in how bright and cell shaded the new game is. The worst sin being scenes that are meant to have more dynamic lighting - like inside Magolor’s ship or in the final cutscene as Another Dimension crumbles - where the more cartoony style just doesn’t gel. But like honestly, if it weren’t for very on the nose divisive stuff like Dedede’s redesign and the character outlines, it would be very hard to make a case for the merit of the original. Just cause to the average person in every sense of the world the new game looks like an upgrade graphically - Shinier, higher detail models, fancy new animations, and the ritz.

I hope over time people do come to really appreciate the wii version’s merit in it’s simplicity, mainly cause it’s another big comfort Kirby game so any change to it made in the remake rubs me the wrong way lmao. But also I do think it has some outside of my uber personal opinions.

#kirby #kirby's return to dream land #kirby's return to dream land deluxe #krtdl #krtdldx #kirby's adventure #kirby super star #shut the heck up #2am thoughts #i feel like even the series itself likes to give most credit to the originals so thats a nice thing to think about #i am also still salty about lore changes but i think those are also part of what i mean about the old games simplicity #magolor being from halcandra or not was like answered wholly by world building and envirornmental storytelling #but then the text says something that makes no gotdamn sense #and i mean i could have lived without mago epilogue BUT I DO LOVE IT DONT GET IT TWISTED #im really happy they chose to add on to that kinda plot hole #i just wish it left what was there in tact (merry magoland being ostensibly canon) #also ive mentioned the gameplay loop in the original is like really easy to just blast straight through #the new loop between magoland and the story mode is a bit more exhausting #once again its just like do i want the quick simple fix or the big meaty adventure #and idk sometimes i want the simple one #tag talking

[victortalkingmachine]

i have had another leon czolgosz dream, several in fact .. !!! a startling resurgance...

#in the first one he went to medical school and became a doctor. good for him #i have no idea what happened in the second one. i remember it but i don't know what it was about. victoria was featured prominently #there may have been more dreams or it could have been just one actually #i remember after the doctor thing i thought to myself Wait. That never happened!! and intentionally changed the detail #(you see it's important to note that i was not present in anything; the dreams were entirely focused on him) #WAIT i just remembered that between doctor plot & the other plot there was one part where i tried to fix the inaccuracy of him being a #doctor but in this he still went to medical school but chose to work in a factory. everyone was wondering why he would do that and tried to #talk him out of it but he remained adament. and then i thought to myself Well this doesn't make sense either! and got to the other #indescribable part.

[anomalouscorvid]

if there's one discord-related thing i hate, it's when nicknames are forcibly assigned without any regard to the user's wishes or, y'know, actual names that they use

#this isn't about like. keeping your username from elsewhere as your nickname in a server for that thing. #that makes sense that's still a name personally chosen. #but being given a nickname and being unable to change it just to fit with a `theme`? #without being able to opt out of that theme? #hate that. it may not be that deep but it is still that annoying #i chose my name myself not particularly interested in another etc. even if it's just an online group chat #also not letting people change their nicknames erases a hilarious part of discord #how can i gradually turn my nickname to mouldy tiercel [3 rat emojis] or chr th crw bv dg n lg lbnk now??

[jankillbride]

I’m rereading mob psycho cause I need some motivation in my life and the parallels between dimple and Reigen are just like ough to go through again.

#it’s kinda insane #ok not super insane but it just hits you in the face #Reigen talking about how LOL wasn’t helping anyone just making people dependent on dimple so mob did a good job #dimple talking about how he wants to understand mob better than anyone else because then mob will depend on him #and dimple gets access to that power #it’s 1. a glimpse into if Reigen had been worse and 2. shows why the story needs to happen #Reigen is dependent on mob for business sure but ultimately he can pick himself a life apart from mob #separation arc showed that because he was the one who chose to apologize and chose to do community service and he decided himself to just #step the fuck up #if Reigen were cut off from early in the manga he’d probably be the same too. #but like. dimples thing about dependence is not wrong #mob is very much dependent on Reigen for making sense of these emotions. which to a degree makes absolute sense #outside of his powers being a thing he’s a kid. kids are figuring everything out for the first time #but it doesn’t change the fact that mob was dependent on Reigen for this kind of. emotional need? is that the word? #Reigen is someone he trusts to know things and so it’s imperative that trust isn’t really broken #because then mobs foundation will shatter #it’s also a hint of a possible future when Reigen describes group psychology stuff in regards to LOL #they’re all smiling and laughing in the cult but outside the meetings they get more and more anxious and that’s why they return #that’s why they probably search for a god other than lord dimple when they’ve been ‘freed’ #freed in the sense that the effect of cult psychology is still there but dimple is gone #in another world if Reigen failed mob would have found another mentor #also who’s to know what would’ve happened if the dependence did not occur and mob didn’t block his powers. #anyways that’s why I’m very much for the ending of mob getting his own life even tho Reigen isn’t super prominent in it anymore

[teamatsumu]

purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnd #rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #rafayel x y/n

[drchucktingle]

autistic expression in a neurotypical art gallery

this morning i thought i would talk about AUTHOR VOICE specifically when it comes to AUTISM. as autistic author i have learned to turn the dial up and down when writing characters. rose from CAMP DAMASCUS is basically exactly where i rest on spectrum and this shows in a few ways

in roses internal monolog you will see that she uses phrases like ‘my friend’ to talk about folks where neurotypical buckaroos might just use first name. or with her parents she will think of them in FIRST NAME instead of ‘mom’ or 'dad’. this is way many autistic buds THINK

to explain this trot I will say it is not a way of disrespect or anything like that, it is simply that these terms are TECHNICALLY all correct and interchangeable. socially, autistic buds often learn to mask by pinpointing WHEN to use these words that logically the same to us.

in CAMP DAMASCUS i left these things in to create character, but if you go back in my writing you will see it. in TINGLERS this is because they are honest in PUNK ROCK way. unfiltered expressions. in earlier novels its admittedly just because i did not realize it was unusual yet

point is, ROSES internal dialog in camp damascus is neurodivergent and i CHOSE not to change her thought process in this way, because we are BOTH autistic. this can be a risk because some neurotypical buckaroos will read it and just think ‘what a strange way. this is bad writing’

camp damascus reviews are actually very good it is a very well received book by any measure, but you will see some folks kind of making fun of these traits (i do not think they would do this if they knew it was authentic autistic way BUT we cannot educate EVERYONE on this trot)

POINT IS i am now faced with an artistic choice in later books. do i write with my AUTISTIC voice even though some neurotypical readers find it awkward? in technical sense some readers WILL think each book is better if i eliminate my autistic tendencies in later edits

my advice is this: character voice IS SO IMPORTANT, but a big part of writing is finding the place between YOUR voice and your CHARACTER voice where both are authentically existing in some way. like acting, you are always bringing something of yourself even when you 'disappear'

when writing BURY YOUR GAYS i did not plan to make misha on the spectrum, but misha is part of me and i am on the spectrum. what i have realized over time is that ALL OF MY CHARACTERS will have these traits in some way because i wrote them, and i will never disappear completely

so when edits came for BURY YOUR GAYS and misha, i took that dial and i turned it farther towards neurotypical than i did with rose, BUT I DID NOT TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY. in literal sense, i left some of those ‘my friends’, because i will always bring MY VOICE to my art as well

i am proud of being on the spectrum. while my voice may not hit every convention of ‘good writing’ it is authentically ‘MY writing’ and i think that is more important than any outside checklist for ‘correct literary expression’. and guess what THE RESULTS ARE IN, MY BOOKS DO WELL

so if you are an artist getting feedback or reviews, consider which parts you can LEARN FROM and grow and change, and which parts are just AUTHENTICALLY YOU. because while your honesty may defy conventions and seem unusual to some folks, IT IS OFTEN WHAT MAKES YOUR ART SING

feel free to turn that dial marked 'YOUR TRUE VOICE' up and down when it makes sense. i do this all the time. but i have long since decided i will never turn that dial OFF completely. your voice is your POWER buckaroo, dont be afraid to sing with it

#writing #actually autistic #chuck tingle #love is real #camp damascus #bury your gays #buckaroo lifestyle #tingleverse #queer horror