#again this is just my own thoughts and opinions

[ponderingmoonlight]

Slow kissing turning into aggressively making out with JJK men

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,5k

Warnings: no sexual content but it's getting heated y'all, not proofread because I wrote that in my break lol

Notes: no one asked for this but I delivered it anyway hehe

Gojo Satoru

It’s hard to keep your mind focused when it’s him who’s sitting next to you. Him, with the cheekiest mouth you’ve ever witnessed. Him, who always picks on you whenever he gets the chance. Him, who makes it all too clear for everyone around him that he’s the strongest.

Because that’s who Satoru Gojo is. Unlike you, an average jujutsu sorcerer who just happened to slide into the same year as him.

“Satoru, stop teasing her”, Suguru mumbles to his right, gazer flickering over your obvious uncomfortable face.

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s attention. Especially attention coming from someone who always bathes in the looks of others, who has no problem with standing in the spotlight constantly.

“I’m not teasing (y/n). I was just telling her that she looks great today. Is a man not allowed to voice his opinion around here?”, Satoru replies while pulling you in his arm and stroking your hair a little too harsh.

And despite the stinging fact that you are nothing compared against him, you can’t help but get excited when he enters the room, you can’t stop your heart from almost beating out of your chest when he touches you. Oh, it makes no sense that you fell for him. Especially you out of all girls around jujutsu high. How dumb to even dream of him liking you back someday when he’s surrounded by charismatic and jaw-dropping gorgeous women each and every day.

 “(y/n) doesn’t look comfortable at all, though”, Suguru comments dryly.

Your cheeks redden instantly when both their gazes hit you with full force, eyeing you up and down until you see stars. It really shouldn’t make you this nervous to be around both of them. Why is it so damn hard for you to be the center of attention for a brief second?

“Get going Suguru, I have a mission for you. What are you doing there with (y/n)? I told you over and over again to leave that poor girl alone, dumbass.”

May the ground swallow you whole. Why is your teacher suddenly appearing as well? And most importantly: If he takes Suguru with him, does that mean…?

“I-I…should get going as well!”, you stutter while jumping up so urgently that a wave of nausea hits you.

Maybe it’s nothing but coincidence but somehow, you managed to never be alone with Satoru in a room. He must be weirded out by you already, there is absolutely no reason to risk him getting freaked out by your strange behavior around others.

“Why in such a hurry, (y/n)? Only Suguru has to go on a mission. Both of us are free today”, Satoru purrs next to you.

When his hand grabs yours and pulls you back down into your seat, there is no chance to escape. You stare blankly at your feet, sweaty palms now digging into your thighs. Without Suguru, you’re on your own. No distraction, no possibility to escape his stinging gaze and attention.

You should be excited about finally getting some time alone with your crush. After all, you laid your eyes on him even before joining jujutsu high. Being the daughter of a wealthy and usual mighty jujutsu sorcerer family meant always staying in contact with the family who inherited the honored one. When you were little, you enjoyed Satoru’s company because he never asked too much questions about you and always seemed unbothered by the stinging fact that you are weak. And surprisingly, his interest in you never wavered until this day.

You, on the other hand…

“You look like you’re sharing the room with a special grade curse. It’s just me, your best friend, the one and only Gojo Satoru! Why so nervous, (y/n)?”

Since you started to develop feelings for him like the dumbass you are, everything changed. Just the sheer thought of sharing a room with him alone sends shivers down your spine, feeling his gaze sticking onto you forces you to get all nervous and to act like an idiot.

You really are one hopeless loser.

“Actually, I’ve been waiting quite some time to finally catch you alone again. It seems like you’re avoiding that like the plague.”

Because you do. Being alone with him means risking that you’ll act all weird and maybe freaking him out forever. Even though you’ll never be with him, you don’t want to lose the connection you have with Satoru. No, you’d rather love him from afar than risking it all.

“Really?”, you mumble while staring blanky at your sweaty hands.

“We’ve been friends for so long.”

He slides closer, forces your heart to skip a beat.

“Right.”

“But two or three years ago, you started avoiding me and I wondered why.”

You swallow hard, eyes widen in sheer horror. “Right.”

“Until I realized.”

Your eyes drift towards his, meet the bright blue ocean of his uncovered orbs. Did he find out? No way, you always made sure to never let anyone know, to keep your feelings to yourself. How would he even get the idea that-

“You love me, right?”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to move a single inch. He knows. Gojo Satoru knows. But how? When? You are physically unable to ask him any of those questions. Instead, you sit next to him like his prey in desperate hope that he’ll lose interest in you if you don’t move.

“You love me, right?”

His piercing look almost kills you from the inside. No, you can’t escape him. There is no way you’ll get out of this room without answering him.

“Right”, you whimper.

“Oh thank god.”

You don’t have any time to react. Before you even realize what happens, he pulls you in and kisses you. Slowly, tenderly, soft and sweet.

Satoru Gojo.

He…kisses you?

For a second, you forget how to exist. This has to be a dream you never dared to allow, so far away from reality that you’d shake your head over the sheer thought. But the way he wraps his arm around your waist and places his hand in your nape is oh too real.

No, this isn’t a dream. Satoru is kissing you at this very moment.

“I had my eyes on you for what feels like forever. But when you stopped meeting me alone and avoiding me, I thought that I might have done something to upset you until I realized that you actually feel the same way”, he mumbles against your lips.

You can’t answer. Instead, you allow your shaky hands to rest against his broad chest. Oh, he feels just as good as you secretly imagined, his intoxicating smell tingling in your nose and making your senses go crazy.

Your lips start moving cautiously against his. In your whole life, you were never kissed, there was never a boy besides Satoru who caught your interest. And now it’s him. It’s really him who moves in synch with you, who places soft kisses against your desperate lips.

So desperate. You grab the fabric of the uniform tighter, make sure that he doesn’t escape. When you get used to the feeling of this sensation, your mouth starts moving faster on its own. You close your eyes, give in to the feeling that starts growing louder and louder inside your burning chest. All those years, you refused to even think about him. All those years, you buried your feelings six feet under. But now everything comes back to the surface. Now it seems like the control over your mind and body slips out of your fingers in the most delicate way.

Out of instinct, you grab his neck and pull him even closer. Your mouths collapse with each other over and over again, so heated that you fail to breathe. You slide onto his lap, allow your tongue to intertwine with his. Oh, you never expected this to feel so good, you never knew you were capable of feeling such a sensation.

When Satoru whimpers inside your mouth, you threaten to lose yourself completely. His hands roam around your body without an aim while you hold onto his strong arms for dear life. Unforgivingly, without any mercy, your lips crash into each other until you see stars.

“Fuck”, he breathes out.

Satoru is the first who gives up and releases his puffy lips from yours. Panting heavy, both of you stare at each other. Did this really happen? Did you really make out with Gojo Satoru like that? You, out of all people? Sheer embarrassment rushes over you like a wave. Out of instinct, you try to cover your face with your hands, to escape his strong gaze.

“No, don’t you ever hide yourself from me. Not after what we’ve just done. You are…absolutely gorgeous”, he murmurs.

“And I think I need to do that again.”

Sukuna

Your skin burns in sheer sensation where his fingertips tease you, his lips moving against your mouth oh too sweet.

What a coincidence that you met Ryomen Sukuna here at Shibuya. What a coincidence you’re now sitting on top of him while his mouth roams around yours so innocently. Soft kisses with Sukuna are something you never imagined the king of curses to enjoy. No, you imagined him rough in every minor aspect of his life, especially when it comes to his lover. Well, apparently that isn’t true. Right now, his lips brush over yours as if you’re porcelain that’s about to break, as if you are the most precious thing to ever exist.

“I don’t have that much time for you”, he mumbles into your parted lips.

“Why not?”, you pout while outlining his strong arms with your fingers.

Oh so gently, he starts placing soft kisses onto your cheek, your forehead, your ear. So tenderly that it feels like a soft breeze of warm air caressing you, so utterly peaceful that you’d never believe that this is actually him.  

“I have something to do here. Who knows when I’m able to gain control over that brat again.”

His low voice vibrates through your whole body. Truth is, you missed your lover way too much to let go of him now. You haven’t seen each other for what feels like forever. Each and every night, you craved his touch, waited for the perfect opportunity to get him back. There is no way in hell you’ll let him go like that now after sharing only a few warm kisses.

You don’t give him an answer. Instead, you let your hips fall onto his provocatively, keeping his head in place while your tongue begins a play you know all too well.

Because even though the king of courses has an unexpected weak spot for slow and sweet kisses, you know exactly what drives him over the edge, what he needs to lose his mind to your mouth.

Your lips crash against his without any mercy, tongue teasing him so violently that a moan escapes the usual so composed man. A curse who never even thought about love and affection, a man destined to kill each and everyone who stands in his way.

Except you. Somehow you managed to light a fire inside him that cannot be put out without your help. Or better, your kisses.

“I missed you”, you purr between two passionate kisses.

“So so much.”

Automatically, he pulls you even closer, allows his muscular frame to collide with yours. Ryomen Sukuna melts like butter in your hands.

And you love it.

“What are you doing to me”, he mutters into your mouth.

“You want me to leave?”

You part your lips from his ever so slightly. One innocent movement, just the sheer thought of pulling away from him with an outcome you know so well.

In an instant, you feel Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you even tighter while his tongue teases you until you can’t breathe anymore.

“Who said you’re allowed to leave?”, he grumbles.

“Stay right here”, he hisses while shoving his tongue into your mouth again.

His hands grab your face when he suddenly starts slowing down his movements again.

“Please”, he adds along with a soft kiss on your forehead.

Toji Fushiguro

You are screwed. Completely fucked, lost, in big trouble.

And the man who’s responsible for all that mess is grinning right into your face.

To be honest, you heard rumors about him. A man who isn’t able to produce cursed energy, who is so unbelievably strong despite it. A bounty hunter who kills jujutsu sorcerers when it’s decently paid, nothing but a troublemaker.

And hot. God, just the way he smirks at you makes your knees go weak-

Focus, this is goddamn serious.

“Would you mind removing that blade from my friend?”, you question dryly.

Now is not the time to thirst over someone who just pierced through your comrade. Well, the honored one, to be exact.

“Why? He’s your boyfriend?”, the man bites back with his sensual low voice.

“Hell no”, you reply a little too quick and disgusted.

“But I still care about him enough to ask you this.”

The unknown force of a man tilts his head before pulling the blade out of Gojo.

“I don’t need your help, (y/n).”

“You sure about that? Let me take over.”

“You? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Gojo’s stupid comment makes your blood boil almost instantly. Who does this guy even think he is? Just because he was lucky enough to get born with immense powers doesn’t mean you aren’t a decent jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Apart from the stinging fact that you are a woman.

And you’re definitely able to feel the stranger’s eyes all over you.

“Are you hard of hearing? Get lost and make sure Riko arrives at Tengen-sama’s safe”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“And missing all the fun and fighting? Hell no.”

“Being alone with ya actually doesn’t sound bad”, the stranger replies with a smirk.

“What the hell would you want from her?”

“Seems like your dumb blue eyes aren’t useful after all, brat.”

Oh, how much you try to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear like an idiot and your cheeks to blush.

“Was that a compliment?”

It doesn’t matter, though. You can’t fuck this mission up. Something about his appearance tells you more than urgently that if that man gets close to Riko…

You have to prevent this. No matter what it costs.

“Depends. Did it work?”, the stranger replies.

Fuck, you hate the way your heart almost beats out of your chest. Or…do you?

“Who knows”, you purr.

His eyes all over you, take in your appearance with so much force that you feel like fainting for a second. Is that man flirting with you?

“I’m the one you’re fighting against.”

“I’m not interested in a spoiled brat like you. Get lost.”

He makes it look so easy. Grabbing Gojo by the throat mid-air, slamming his body into multiple nearby buildings. All of this without a single spark of cursed energy. All of this only by the sheer force of his muscular arms. Fuck, those forearms…

“So, watcha say, princess? Are ya in for chilling together?”

You feel like dying and flying at the same time. That fucking man was able to send Gojo straight to heaven with one arm. There is no doubt in the fact that he’d be able to kill you without you even noticing a single thing.

You bite your lip when your eyes start wandering around his toned torso and tight black shirt. But isn’t it your mission to do everything possible in order to keep Riko save? Especially when it means getting physical with a man like him. His eyes tell you that you need to keep him entertained if you stick to your plan. What could a girl like you possibly offer a guy like him?

“Depends on your definition of chilling. I’m not staying here for nothing.”

This is a dangerous game. One wrong movement, one unwise word and you’re dead without even Gojo being able to protect you.

“First tell me what’s yours. Any hidden talents apart from that whole jujutsu stuff?”

He roams around you like a hunter around its prey, eyes getting darker and darker each time they meet your gaze. Oh, this question definitely points to places you’ve never been before, so dirty and rough that you never allowed your thoughts to travel there.

“Maybe we need to find out”, you hum.

Your voice doesn’t sound like yours anymore. Like in trance, you give the unknown man in front of you dirty looks. This is for the mission exclusively.

Right?

“I know you’re trying to distract me. But fuck that and have some fine before I kill that brat.”

You force yourself to breathe out slowly and controlled. Of course, he wouldn’t fall for that. Someone who’s here to kill the plasma vessel and managed to slice through Gojo like through butter isn’t someone to be messed with.

Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer. He builds himself up in front of you with his shadow hanging over you threatful.

But those lips. Those oh so kissable lips paired with that handsome face of his.

“Scared?”, he mutters while mocking down at you.

A deep breath in. A deep breath out. Before you’re able to convince yourself otherwise, you press your lips against his.

Almost instantly, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer. But apart from the rough kiss you expected, his lips caress yours in the softest way possible. Gently, he holds onto your face while embracing you in a way you’ve never felt before.

Fuck, why does this have to be so good? Why was everything you expected from that man a steamy make-out session?

Your knees threaten so fail you when every minor movement of his mouth sends shivers down your spine. This shouldn’t feel so good, you shouldn’t melt like butter in his rough hands.

But you can’t help it.

“You definitely taste good”, he mumbles into your parted lips.

Your cheeks heat up in an instant. If someone would have told you you’d end up making out with a hot stranger to stop him from killing Riko and Gojo today, you would have called them insane.

And yet, here you are. Getting showered in soft kisses and held in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Gimme more, princess.”

Slowly but surely, the urge to feel him even closer, better, faster becomes unbearable. You grab him by his hair and pull him down while your mouth picks up the pace on its own. This isn’t enough. You need to feel him better than this.

“Fuck.”

A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, hands wandering around his body without an aim. Oh, your lips never swelled up like that, never burned in such a sensation before. Fuck slow-kissing, fuck holding yourself back. Why would you ditch that opportunity when it’s clear that he wants you as well?

The stranger’s arms wrapped themselves around you tightly, leave you no room to escape. Over and over, your lips collide with each other until you feel dizzy.

“Sorry for interrupting your little make out session, but are you out of your fucking mind, (y/n)?”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You know that voice all too well.

“Huh, should have killed you right on the spot”, the stranger remarks with his dark eyes still set on you.

“What a waste of time. Wait for me here, princess. I’ll be back when I killed that brat and the vessel.”

He lets go of you as sudden as he grabbed you, leaves your body aching for his touch and your mind racing back and forth.

“You can’t kill them!”, you shout after him.

“And I don’t even know your name.”

“The name’s Toji Fushiguro, princess.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

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[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

#Anyways just had to get this out #feel free to ignore #I love you guys alot and idk if this is helpful but I hate to see you guys upset #ren speaks🌱 #twst

[ahqkas]

Speaking as a talkative person when it’s about my interests, I fear I might come off annoying or overbearing..I would like to request something like this with Mattheo. Reader is a very talkative who likes to talk a lot but someone had expressed their annoyance towards her in a rude way and it just ends up with reader stop talking a lot or just stops talking at all. in fear of annoying her koved ones. mattheo notices this and the rest is all to you!

-😕anon

THE SOUND OF YOUR CHATTER ; mattheo riddle

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE SHIFT IN YOUR BEHAVIOR DIDN’T ESCAPE MATTHEO’S NOTICE. He had always admired the way your words flowed effortlessly through your lips, filling the air with stories, jokes, and musings. Your voice had a way of brightening even the dullest days of his days, and he found comfort in the sound of your laughter and the tones of your speech. But lately, an unsettling silence had taken its place, and Mattheo couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

It all began a few days ago during lunch. You had been animatedly recounting a funny incident from Potions class when a sharp voice cut through your story. "Do you ever stop talking? You're so annoying."

The words had hit you like a slap, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The table fell silent, and you quickly lowered your gaze, mumbling an apology. From that moment on, a heavy cloud of self-doubt settled over you, stifling your usual chatter.

Mattheo watched as you retreated into yourself, your once lively soul replaced by a disconcerting quiet. He missed the way you used to fill the gaps in conversation, the way you could turn any boring moment into something special with your words. Now, you spoke only when spoken to, your sentences clipped and your tone subdued. It irked your boyfriend to no end, he missed his talkative lover.

One evening, as you sat together in the common room, Mattheo couldn't take it anymore. He moved closer to you on the couch, his eyes filled with concern as his knee bumped into yours. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?"

You glanced up at him from your book, a hint of apprehension in your eyes. "Sure, what's up?"

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I've noticed you've been really quiet lately. Did something happen?"

You hesitated, the memory of the harsh words still fresh in your mind. "It's nothing. I just . . . don't want to be annoying."

Mattheo's heart ached at your admission. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers together in an embrace. "You're not annoying, love. Not to me, not to anyone who really cares about you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, his sincerity breaking through the walls you had built around yourself. "But someone said —"

"I don't care what anyone else said," Mattheo interrupted softly. And he was sincere with you. Always. No one’s opinion about you mattered to him, only his own. He knew how to throw fists, after all. "I miss hearing your pretty voice."

You blinked back the tears, a soft smile tugging at your lips upon hearing his thoughts. "Really?"

"Really," he affirmed, squeezing your hand. "I love hearing you talk. Your stories, your thoughts, your laughter . . . they mean the world to me. Don't let one twat’s rudeness take that away from me. Or I’ll fight for you, princess, oh I will.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, the weight of your fears lifting ever so slightly. "Thank you, Mattheo. I needed to hear that."

He smiled, his brown irises shining with affection towards you and mischief. "Anytime. Now, why don't you tell me about that Potions incident you haven’t finished earlier? I could use a good laugh."

With his encouragement, you began to speak again, your words gaining strength and confidence with each passing moment. And as the evening wore on, the common room filled once more with the sound of your voice, a melody that Mattheo cherished more than anything in the world.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #reader insert #x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x you #harry potter masterlist #harry potter #hp x you #hp x reader #mattheo x reader #mattheoxreader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin

[polinsated]

@polin-erospsyche said these tags i wrote shouldn't be tags, and i trust her with my possible-inpending embarrassment, apparently, so, here you go:

i adore this look so much. the way colin looks at pen here will never not be used as a defence against people saying polin are 'rushed', or 'have no chemistry', or whatever it is they're saying now. and here's my little take on it.

-> you know how they say, you don't know what you have until it's gone. in this case, colin didn't realise how much he needed pen and her letters until they were gone....

—

this lonely, weary traveller has been away for months. we know his family doesn't often reply to his letters. and although he jokes about it, and they do too, we can all agree that he's upset by this, yes?

so in this moment, he turns around and sees the only person who has been corresponding with him throughout his journeys. he sees the woman who not only responds to every letter he sends but also who does so with genuine interest and fondness. the person who has made him feel like he has had a friend there with him on his travels. i personally believe he was alone for most, if not, nearly all of the time he was away. though, even if he did have some companionship; penelope was his constant for that time.

she has probably been keeping him entertained with stories, making sure he knows his family is okay, and asking him about every detail of his adventures. and in my opinion, i believe she barely ever mentioned herself in these letters. she has really been there with him every step of the way via her open ears (nay eyes) and written words.

and so finally, he sees her there, and i don't think he knows what to do with himself.

does he want to just say hello? probably not - look at his face! does he want to sit down with her right away and ramble on about things he has yet to say? or maybe just tell the same stories - because he knows she will listen, and she will understand, and she will enjoy hearing about them. maybe. does he want to hug her and say thank you? possibly.

my point is that i think he doesn't know what to do. it's such a short look that he doesn't have time to decide. and he's suspended in those moments when he sees her looking back at him with a huge smile on her face. he's overwhelmed.

i may be wrong in this part, but i also think he's a little surprised. he knows pen hangs out with his family a lot, but i don't think he expected her to be there right at that very moment he walked in the door. the man is baffled, to me. and in love.. despite not knowing it yet, hehe.

and it leads me to the sudden and heartbreaking point of 3.01. when colin has finished greeting his family, he turns to look at the featherington house because he notices right away that pen is not there like last time. and now it feels wrong that she isn't.

and if you watch that moment, the exact part when he turns back to his family again, there is something in the way his hands swing loosely at his sides, like a defeated sigh from his body - if you know what i'm trying to say.

his body language, to me, just screams disheartened... dispirited, or whatever other fancy word you'd see fit to use. but it's so subtle...

and then later we find out that penelope didn't respond to any of his letters this time. and i can only imagine how confused he is. because, honestly, he probably forgot about the horrible courting comment he made, and even if he remembered, he doesn't know then that pen heard it. so in his mind he is wondering where on earth his friend is. the possibility that she could be unwell has probably also crossed his mind. he is just - desperate, most likely - at this point to find out what's going on.

the thought of him, on his travels, everyday wondering why there still hasn't been a single letter signed 'penelope' absolutely breaks my heart.

and while i was about to end this post, i just thought about colin actually writing his own letters, and how he might've changed his tone along the way... do you think they ever included such words as something like: "i eagerly await your response." / "i hope to hear from you sometime soon." / "are you well, pen?"

or even this soul destroying, lump in the throat inducing quote that my mind has just come up with: "i've begun to think that there's a possibility you have not received my recent letters. for several weeks i have not heard back. not even a single tidbit about your mama, or my bothersome siblings. i must admit, my travels have not been as such fun or as fascinating as when i have my good friend to tell them to. i hope my writing finds you soon enough, or that yours finds me."

......

anyway, i don't write metas.. or i do and i never post them because i feel stupid and rambly and i'm never sure if it makes sense, but, i'm being a little brave here, haha. (thank you, luwen)

#i am... unsure of this #i'm probably gonna delete it 😫😬 #polin meta #polin spoilers #polin #bridgerton 2x02 #colin x penelope

[rottingcorps3s]

Could I get another older man! neighbor!price thing? (maybe some Headcanons or oneshot of them becoming official) I beg of thee!

(Brain went to the one tiktok audio going : KENDRICK!!!! DROP ANOTHER DISS TRACK! AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!)

YES!!! I GOT YOU BBY!! I already had some other ideas brewing, thank you for the ask and hope you like it! \(@^0^@)/

this is angsty at first, but has a happy ending!

continuation of this post…

-

my personal opinion, i feel that John wouldn’t jump straight into the relationship following your…recent activities…i feel like he’d have doubts, not because of you! not at all! but because of himself. he’d pull away from you, which only lead to things being complicated. it got to a point of him avoiding you where you took it into your own hands and cornered him in his own home.

“why’re you avoiding me?” you asked sternly, your brows furrowed with frustration; hands balled up into fists by your sides. “you come to my home and-and use me and nothing comes out of it?” you were serious, stern, straight to the point.

“i mean-come on john, we talked for hours that night!” you were getting upset now, your lip quivering as you looked off into space, a sad look in your eye as you remembered the conversations.

you had both expressed wanting more than a one-night stand. wanting more than just to ‘mess around’. you had shared similar feelings in wanting to find someone to build the rest of their life with.

john wasn’t sure what to say, too scared that he’ll say the wrong thing. he didn’t want fuck this up. it was too good to be true, and a part of him thought he was being punked. or it was some sort of sick and twisted karma the universe was repaying him with.

“say something!” you spoke again, this time louder than before, but not yelling.

he inhaled deeply before he finally spoke.

“i do want it.” he confessed, his tone sincere, but it wasn’t enough yet. you stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “i just wanna do it right.”

“court you, date you, wine and dine you, however you wanna put it.”

you stood silent for a moment, your frustration seeming to dissipate as you absorbed his words. you simply nodded.

“a heads-up would’ve been great…” you mumbled.

john approached you, slowly, timidly. as if he were trying to tame a cat. you let him, watching him as he reached out for you and held your face in his big hands.

“you sure you wanna be with an ol’man like me?” he asked, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. you rolled your eyes at his question, pursing your lips.

“well not that you mention it…” you pretended to contemplate, resting your finger on your chin. “i wouldn’t of cornered you for an answer if i didn’t!”

he chuckled, a large grin on his face as you smiled sheepishly at him. “let me make it up to you…i’ll do it right this time…”

you agreed.

-

john showed up at your front door later that night, a small vase of fresh flowers in hand. you tried to hide your smile as you took them from him, running excitedly to put them on your kitchen table for display.

you returned back to where he stood, he looked delicious. he had cleaned up his facial hair, giving it a well needed trim. his hair was freshly washed and styled. he was in something casual, as were you. something cute but still comfy.

john held his hand out to you, which you took. you had opted for an at home date. both of you slightly disgusted at the thought of going to a busy restaurant downtown on a weekend. we’ve got all the time in the world to go to fancy places. you’d said, he agreed. he couldn’t help the feeling of his heart swelling in his chest at your comment.

all the time in the world…

john walked to over to his home, kicking the door closed as you both entered. he was quick to lead you over to the kitchen, where you were met with a dimly lit room and a beautifully set table.

you both immediately dove into the meal, bouncing silly conversations off each other the rest of the time. there was a small break in conversation, john was cleaning up the rest of the meal when you decided to finally ask.

“who was your company the other night?”

john smiled to himself at the mention of them.

“uh-“ he chuckled, “some old coworkers.” he said simply. you listened along.

“from when you were enlisted?” he simply nodded. it was silent again, he looked up to see you staring off into space, clearly thinking something through.

“captain…” he heard you mumble, followed by a small giggle.

“you got that right.” he said, his tone thick with humor, “the boys-“ he stopped, thinking, “they’re jealous.” you looked at him, your face full of question.

“jealous of me.” he continued to elaborate. he was done with cleaning up, sitting down on one of the chairs right next to you.

“jealous that, i got a pretty little bird makin’ me homemade meals…” he continued, you smiled. your cheeks flushing bright red. “comin’ over, wearing a cute li’l sundress…”

the energy in the room seemed to shift as he kept talking, it was powerful. he was powerful. each time he spoke, it demanded attention. he was able to make an entire room of people listen to him.

he was staring at you, more than just your face. his eyes roaming over your entire body.

“they tried your cookies.” he smirked, his hand reaching out to grab your own, gently running his fingers up and down your arm.

“never heard those boys make so many promises to a single person.” it made you laugh.

“i’ll remember to make more next time.” you said. he hummed in response. it was quiet again. comfortable. he was looking at your face again, eyes locked on you.

“you-“ “can-“

you both started to speak at once. stopping to let the other person talk. john’s mouth hung slightly agape, anticipating, waiting for you to say your part first.

the moment was tense. the only thing you could hear was the sound of your breathing.

“john…” you said quietly, gently digging your nails into his forearm as you pulled him towards you.

“i want you so badly…”

-

YESSSSSS i love using dialog from the first part to mesh it with the second part 😩

#call of duty #cod modern warfare #modern warefare 2 #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #john price cod #captain price #price mw2

[szasfuckingwife]

Your day starts and ends with a tender stroke on your protruding pregnant belly. Your husband is across the minka, probably scaring men half to death. However, now, it’s breakfast and your maids prepare you for the start of the day.

The maids lead you to the dining room where your husband sits on the opposite side. You bow before him as you slowly take a seat. “Good Morning, Ryomen.”

He stares at you with all your eyes, not saying a word. His eyes also linger at your belly. Sukuna has never felt fear especially considering his fear was a small baby that was yet to appear. It kept him up at night

“How was your morning..?” You sweetly smile at him, only to be met with his unchanged face. “The baby was moving a lot today…”

He exhaled sharply, “Terrible. Some weakling was outside begging me for forgiveness.”

You nod before he speaks again, “Why aren’t you eating?”

His words earn a raise of your brow as you stare down at the array of food. It wasn’t your desire to eat, especially after hearing some maids speak ill of your pregnancy cravings. You would’ve laughed it off if they hadn’t have proceeded to call you ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’ and wondered ‘why Lord Sukuna married an ugly concubine like her’.

But you were extremely hungry. “I…I’m not hungry…I-”

“What happened?” He asks in a low voice.

Sukuna knows what happened, he just doesn’t know if you heard it too. Or, better yet, if you heard it and refused to tell him. He squinted his eyes at you slightly before you cracked.

“I heard…someone say that I was fat. And ugly. And you shouldn’t have married me…” The words leave your mouth hurt Sukuna more than they do you. He wonders how you must have felt, it’s enough being pregnant but hearing that from other women must hurt.

“Y/N.” You look up. “I do not think you’re fat. I do not think you’re ugly. Tell me, whose opinion matters more? Mine or some maids.”

You inhale, “You.”

“So, if that’s the case, why do you care about them? Why do you-”

“Because I feel that way too! I see myself day by day getting more uglier and…I don’t want to eat!” All the anger and sadness inside you lashes out and instead of holding it in, Sukuna watches as you push the food off the table and walk off.

As you marched back to your room, you regretted everything you did. He was sure to get rid of you now, how could you speak to your lord in such a way. Not only were you scared of Sukuna’s reaction, you were scared of your own. You’ve never let yourself get so heated before. A thought crosses your mind, what if you were becoming just like your sadistic husband..?

With your loud sobbing, you didn’t realise Sukuna enter the room. His touch caused you to jump as you faced him.

“They’ll be…dismissed. As for you, do not listen to them. You are carrying my heir, and you are my wife. No one knows how I feel about you, and I fear they never will. Don’t let them think they know anything about us, me, and especially you.”

You nod, staring up at him. “Now, dry your eyes, get rid of your tears. I want to parade you around and show you off one more time.”

#szasfuckingwife #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader

[ace-race-ace]

I have a somewhat interesting theory about some people disproportionately HATING Esteban but liking Pierre.

To me, being / not being Francophone heavily influences how people seem to perceive them.

I am French (ew exposing myself Ik) and I absolutely ADORE Esteban. He’s really sweet, authentic and hard working. Pierre on the other hand is like the epitome of a French fuck-boy to me, overly confident, showing off, and not genuinely caring for people that aren’t his friends. I actually think he’s a great driver but his personality gives me the biggest ick.

People who aren’t Francophone (especially Americans and Brits) seem to think completely differently. They see Esteban as undeserving because he’s had scraps often (NEWS FLASH: THEY ALL DO) and not being a strong driver despite he holds his own against his teammates for a long time . And Pierre is idolized like crazy despite fumbling a red bull seat and only having 2021 as an actual impressive performance. He’s seen as super cool, confident and having good looks and apparently that’s good enough.

It must be a cultural mistranslation/mismatch because to me it’s SOOO obvious Esteban is a great driver and a great person who obviously cares about the sport, not being a ‘celebrity’. While Pierre is too often glorified despite causing many accidents himself and also seems obsessed with his image. NGL him talking about Michael Jordan being bigger than his sport and him (Pierre) wanting to recreate that gave me a huge shift in how I see him.

Esteban is just a more humble guy in my opinion, and he’s getting an un proportional amount of hate for the actual situation.

Again, I don’t even hate Pierre that much, but the way people seem to punch down Esteban so much while praising Gasly makes zero sense to me.

Those are my quick thoughts! I’m willing to discuss other people’s opinions as along as we stay respectful to each other 🫶

#f1 #formulaone #esteban ocon #pierre gasly #eo31 #pg10 #alpine f1

[sapphic-agent]

One last autistic rant from me and I'll be quiet, but the way Horikoshi treated Mic? My god! Brace yourself, because this will be long.

He's one of the few competent adults in the series but his opinions are always dismissed. Over and over again. And he used to be a prominent character in the series before being shoved into the background. I feel that was intentional because Mic was one of the characters that debunked some of Horikoshi's plot points.

"Bakugou is being a bit aggressive towards a girl I know is sweet and doing her best." Don't care. Get smacked in the face by Horikoshi's self insert, even though you were thoughtful enough to watch over him while he was in A FULL BODY CAST!!!

"Hey, this guy might be abusing his son. Shouldn't we do something?" No one asked. Just keep on commentating, commentator. So nosy.

"There might be a traitor in UA." That’s stupid. We will start losing trust in each other if we start pointing fingers, says the guy who is supposed to be a sharpshooter.

"You're obviously favoring this kid because of Oboro." Shut up, Mic. No one asked you. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to neglect my actual students in favor of this self-victimizing kid.

"Our friend is a nomu and we found out who the culprit is." I'll only go if you do, but don't really want anything to do with it.

"Our other close friend died." Shut up, Mic, and tell me about the students that I've neglected up until this arc.

"I was right! There was a traitor!" Yeah, but he still can be a hero. See, even your friend who was negatively by the traitor is siding with him. You're just a jerk, Mic.

"I went to the hospital to save Oboro, who I've known longer than Aizawa, and he isn't there anymore." Shut up, Mic! You're just being negative.

"I'm sorry for crying. I'm supposed to be a man." I wasn't asking you, Mic. I was talking to our friend who is more so your friend because I only ever use him as an excuse for how I treat my students.

It's so frustrating that everyone, even his own 'friends', doesn't listen to Mic. And don’t get me started with how he's written in fanon most of the time. This is another thing that I rewrote for my AU. Sunny Day (Mic's counterpart) is based on Fanon!Mic, but I expanded more on her character and have her be more than just a blonde ditz. I gave her the support that Mic never really gets in canon, but she still supports others in turn. Sunny's arc even plays into Shoto's arc in my AU, where she helps him escape Endeavor's grasp.

Alrighty. That's all from me. I'll leave you be now. I just wanted share my one final tidbit.

It's funny because Fanon Dadzawa is actually Canon Mic. He's intelligent, attentive, and actually shows concern for the students. It's sad that he's just support for Aizawa's character, he really has potential as a standalone character.

Your asks have been great, please feel free to send more whenever!

#present mic #anti aizawa shota #mha critical #bnha critical #ask

[plusvanity]

To make this clear, Old Mayhem and me NEVER attacked one another.

There's no animosity going on between me and her. Although in the same 'fandom', our blogs exist separately and don't overlap. This doesn't mean hatred. This simply means a different public. The effort that me and her seems to put in the content that we create is massive, so as I said before, I will say I again, be a decent person and don't spread misinformation about what my dynamic between me and her is like. Also, don't spread hateful messages in anyone's inbox about how 'shit their art is' or 'how dare you not like this blog??' Because you NEVER know if the person who reads it has s*****e thoughts and the LAST THING that they read is your spiteful message. It happened with me before, and I wouldn't wish this feeling even on the worst people in my life.

This is all I had to say regarding Old Mayhem.

Now, I want to address the real issue who's name I didn't mention until now, Kelma 69, the one blog who's proud description is 'Getting rid of weird Mayhem fans, mostly from Pelle's fans'.

I don't even have to add anything about this description, her malicious 'witch hunt' intentions are more than obvious and the fact that I seem to be her number one target is sending a shiver down my spine.

I don't have an issue with people who block me and move on with their lives, this is normal, it's expected. But I have an issue with someone who blocks me and keeps endlessly talking about me with every chance they've got, so I want to ask her why?

I never interacted with her before, yet she comes across so vicious about my art and fiction for seemingly no reason other than envy.

Of cause that you're entitled to your own opinion, of course that you don't have to like me, this is absolutely alright, but you should assume your words instead of hiding behind blogs that had been here long before you or 'adjusting' your statements to how it seems more convenient for you.

Calling my art 'crap', than saying 'I'm not insulting the artist' is blatantly lying with proofs on her own page.

Also, the fact that she was both following me and my other artist friends, liking our 'Vargelle' fanarts until someone brought this to her attention and she suddenly blocked me and my friends is a 'getting caught' behaviour. I can understand that she may had liked those fanarts because of Pelle's design, as she mentioned at one point, but some of those drawings didn't even had Pelle's face in it, so how does this work? She also liked fanarts of Varg (alone) even if she hates Varg more than anything, so was this for his 'design' too? Is it?

Also, her parasitic tendency to accociate herself with Old Mayhem to seem relevant, to gain attention and admiration denote very evident deceiving and manipulating tactics.

Another aspect of her double-faced behaviour is the fact that she presents herself as 'shy' when she has no problem whatsoever getting rid of what might step out of her appreciation area. Shyness doesn't come with blunt insults and a covert need for conflict and drama. Shy people doesn't seek reactions, they don't go out to hate on people to boost up their ego and shy people DON'T throw the 'you just play the victim' card whenever they can't find solid arguments against their accusation.

Is calling out someone's falsehood the equivalent of 'playing' the victim? Is this the way to wash your hands clean from taking responsibility?

The fact that you won't allow a conversation to take place and once you consider that 'you're done playing your game' you pull out, just shows how unwilling you are to recognise what you've done.

I hope everyone can leave behind this senseless drama. I'm so sick and tired talking like a broken record about these things.

Live and let live. There's so much to do in life other than being angry about fiction, trust me.

#my ramblings #pelle ohlin #varg vikernes #mayhem #mayhem band

[ourpickwickclub]

Game anon again- I went to a few games before B came into the picture where GR was there with G. I was a big LAMB fan and bought so much clothes, shoes and purses and liked Gwen for her fashion more than her music or her as a person, she was just the designer to my favorite stuff at the time. Every time I was somewhere where there was magazines I scoured the pages for pictures of Gwen out in the streets to see her everyday street fashion and how she was mixing her stuff up so I could get inspiration and my favorite became the pictures of her and Gavin together and then with Kingston because they often coordinated so I was a big shipper of them as a couple and imagined myself doing the same when I had a child. When I heard the divorce announcement I actually cried in the car because I really thought if their love didn’t survive nobody had a chance 😅 I had invested so much time following them as a couple and thought they would last forever. I had heard the cheating rumors but thought that’s all they were since I continued to see them looking happy in magazines and out at the games ever so often, and honestly I read cheating rumors on everyone. I liked Blake on the voice a lot so when that developed I wasn’t against it at all, but thought it would be short lived and B would move on to someone younger and have his own kids . After seeing B/G together those first few times at games and them having their little disagreement on a food box, and genuinely laughing so much and most importantly their affection towards one another throughout. I realized how much was missing with her and GR, they showed affection but honestly I feel it was more him who was all over her maybe trying to make her forget things he did and she was not genuinely affectionate towards him in my opinion, I honestly think she was sometimes annoyed when he was kissing on her or touching her. I feel like maybe his infidelity was always in her mind somewhere and she was a little checked out maybe trying to protect her heart but seeing her and B those first times she just looked so relaxed, and at peace and there was so much sparkle in her eyes I had never seen before and in person for the first time in all the times I had seen her she looked really happy, and I saw a playfulness I had never witnessed with her as well, and Blake looked like such a natural and like he was a part of that family all along, and I remember thinking this is solid and it’s forever no doubt about it so when people worried they had broken up back then all the time, I always felt assured they were probably together laying on a bed watching tv and arguing about cereal or ice cream containers. My sister-in-law who’s kids are the ones in the games, not a Gwen fan like me, made a comment with similar observations as me back then and I was actually surprised she caught on to all that since I always thought I was the one keeping an eye on G and she was always so nonchalant about her, I never thought she even paid attention but she said “those two (B/G) are gonna get married and stay together, they are each others missing piece, and there’s no way they will move on now that they know what it is to have that in their lives” she said she could see the happiness and good energy glowing around them and it was hard to miss as an outsider❤️

Thanks again for sharing your insights from seeing these interactions at the games.

— M

[chaithetics]

frothing at the mouth for any norm fics

Gaps of Sunlight

Pairing: Norm Maclean (Fallout) x f reader Word count: 4.5K Gif by @klausbens Warning: Barely proofread, pining, longing, maybe a little fluff and angst? a jab at Chet's weird crush, this is set before the events of Fallout S1 so some 'foreshadowing' I guess but doesn't have any spoilers! Mitski inspired! A/N: Ask and you shall receive 🙏(translation: thank you for enabling me!!!) This is my first time writing Norm and it's the most fun I've had with writing a fic in a long time! I feel like I'm a more descriptive writer and I haven't had an idea flow like this in quite a while. I feel like this is similar to 'Porce and the Shark' in terms of writing? Idk how well this flows as a story lol?!?! I've barely written any angst and I haven't really done any yearning, so I hope this is good! So please validate, I just felt like I was never going to finish or/fix it enough so I thought I'd post it as is. Thought about the queen of angst, @inknopewetrust's work a lot when I started writing this. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🫶

You lay in bed as you couldn’t help but think about it all. Once again. You could go outside to the corn fields but all that could offer you was a projection from a time and place well before you were even conceived as an idea. You’d never really know what the sunlight felt like, how it would heat your chin and what it would be like to bathe in that light. You had tried to live vicariously through that with what approved, classic literature had survived the war and through the vaults. Shakespeare didn’t offer you much beyond metaphors that were just out of your grasp with relatability to your environment, you hadn’t particularly enjoyed Chaucer, an opinion you’d kept from your father. While the Brontë sisters were able to perfectly let you know what rain in a different continent would’ve felt like against your face and how it would’ve smelt and made your shoes feel to run across an English countryside, they never enlightened you about what being bathed in sunlight would feel like. There were only so many times you could read and annotate Homer’s works awaiting a revelation. 

Despite how everyone else moved around Vault 33, it was impossible for you to not help but wonder more of life. What it all was, and what it all meant. 

You pull yourself out of a possible mental spiral and quickly get ready for the day as it eases on just as every other day does in the Vault. There’s breakfast with a pleasant conversation with your family, and you teach English classes to the youth of Vault 33, you participate in other extracurriculars just like most of the other Vault dwellers but teaching takes up the bulk of each of your days. You don’t mind that at all though, you enjoy it, even on days where everything feels like a complete rut. The mornings when the blue of the vault suits feels like too much, the pleasantries feel more like programming than authentic connections. 

It had started like every other day and classes had happened accordingly, there was now the communal reprieve of lunch. As you slowly chew you look up and see him across the dining hall, despite being from the poster-perfect vault family, he’s Vault 33’s very own black sheep, Norman MacLean. He’s sitting there silently while his dad and Lucy are happily chatting away. Each taking turns trying to lure him into conversation, which he rejects each time with a quick, blink and you’ll miss it shake of his head. The same expression he always wears these days and has for years is etched onto his face, a chronic look of apathy. 

You can’t help but stare at him for a moment, watching the way he looks on almost blankly. Even from across the room, you can see every thought in those brown doe eyes as if he’s saying them aloud. How is it that he’s still so misunderstood? 

You’d grown up with Norm, he’d always been nice to you, even when you were at school. But that wasn’t exceptional, that was the whole thing with vault-dwellers, being nice people, even from a very young age. It’s not exactly a melting pot of cultures in the Vault like you know the surface once was but the culture is to be nice, chirpy, and practical. 

Norm was nice, he had a quiet charm, he’d be a good politician, just in a different way and style as his father, he was practical but he didn’t have a cheery disposition. He lacked enthusiasm and at times it seemed to almost fascinate him how much that little rebellion could bother people. He didn’t put himself out there and you remember how he was smart, he knew answers to the questions that were asked but he’d never put his hand up for them. 

It made you wonder at times if he was scared of his own voice. You feel your eyes squinting as you look at him wondering that question, as if studying his jawline for another minute or watching him lift his fork up to his mouth will tell you. 

With a deep breath, you tilt your head discreetly to look around to see if anyone noticed your infatuated staring but nobody seems to. You still put a polite, chirpy smile on your face in case anyone did. That should be enough for anyone to notice anything your eyes might’ve been betraying. 

Your mind still stays on him, because as always, you might see him better than anyone else but he is still a puzzle with pieces you have yet to find the corners to.

You’re sitting near the cornfield, trying to live vicariously in a world that’s not yours, one that will always be out of touch, just trapped into ink on a page and repeated for the ears of children, to fulfil a mission. But it’s his voice that pulls you out of the inner world of classical Greek horrors. 

“Sunny day today.” He says as he looks down at you as you sit on the chair and look at his standing form. He says it as if it isn’t sunny every day with that projection meant to convince you of what the surface once knew and not instead fall flat and be more reminiscent of golden Hollywood-esque crops on sets of the films that have survived. Norm’s voice is quiet, he’s just as soft-spoken as you remember him being so long ago. His tone is bored, but it doesn’t deter you, how could it when he’s standing in front of you looking into your eyes? 

He looks into your eyes, taking in the colour, worried that someday he could forget the flicks closest to your eyes. They might rearrange if he doesn’t look at them for another ten seconds to appreciate them. He could forget them. But he never would. 

“Just like your disposition.” You quietly tease, offering him a shy smile. 

Just as if it’s somehow not always sunny, a rare occasion worth being spoken about, so is his unchanging character. But beyond adding in a couple of cups of more confidence perhaps, you don’t think there’s much else that could be worth editing. 

“And for that exact reason, I’m surprised I’m getting a job transfer with the reasoning being my enthusiasm levels.” He says with a breathless chuckle. 

You tilt your head as you look up at him, he’s still standing, the toe of his shoe almost toying with something invisible on the artificial emerald green grass. You’d put your thumb in your book when he’d arrived but now you put your bookmark in and gently close it. Placing it gently on your lap. 

It hadn’t been that long since you’d both finished your education, having had jobs and duties in the vault was important for its efficiency and functionality. But still, this wouldn’t be Norm’s second job. You were still the teacher you’d been assigned at the start of your adult life, most people in the vault only ever had one job, sometimes they would change and so have had two in their whole life and of course, there would be a change of two or sometimes three for overseers, but three while still being so young was very rare. You had questions and internal crises about this world all the time, there was always a moment somewhere in your world that you felt slightly out of place. But still, contentment had found a way to settle in your bones much easier than it did for him. 

“What were the enthusiasm levels?” You ask quietly, slowly blinking. You already know the answer. 

Norm looks down at the ground, at the grass he could tug out and it would just never grow back. No matter how desperately everyone would want to pretend it would. His foot is so close to yours, mere inches away, the toe of his shoe could just brush against yours and no one would know. 

“Nought.” He says with disinterest, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as his eyes stay planted on the ground. 

“Something will stick eventually.” You say. 

You say stick, you don’t say that there will definitely be something he loves or that it’ll all be okay, it’s not what he wants to hear and you don’t know if there’s a role in this world that you both live in that would fulfil him as much as his father is fulfilled by being Overseer. He appreciates that. But he needs to change the subject. 

“Is a literature teacher always reading?” He questions as if it’s a riddle that might amuse him. 

“More likely to happen than finding them counting.” You say as you tilt your head. You don’t remember the last time he approached you for conversation, or the last time that he did and there were this many words. It would’ve been back when you were younger, still classmates. You can’t track an exact memory down which surprises you.

“So, what’s that one?” He asks looking at the book in your lap for a moment before his eyes slowly gaze back to your face, making eye contact for the first time in over a minute. You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at this. You feel seen as his eyes rake up and take in every facial feature and unique mark on you. 

Everyone makes a false and fatal assumption about Norm. They assume that because he’s not extroverted and over-the-top warm like Lucy or Hank, that he’s not charming. That’s complete crap. You know it’s false. He’s not the same as his family or a lot of the people in your home vault but without a doubt, Norman MacLean oozes charisma. He knows just when to turn it on and how to utilise it in the best way with each person. And right now, it’s working on you. 

“The Three Theban plays, by Sophocles.” You whisper as your eyes bore into him, you don’t dare to blink. Too scared that he might just disappear if you do, and that when your eyes open again, this will all be confirmed as another of one of your many daydreams about him. “They’re tragedies, I’m reading Antigone, at the moment.” You feel yourself latching each word onto the next word as if you’re climbing a ladder and need to build more rungs at the same time, there’s some intrinsic need in you to draw this out for just a few more moments. His presence gives you some kind of glow. You finally blink, your eyes not able to hold it anymore, he’s somehow still standing in front of you once your lids open. You immediately wonder if you’ve said too much and try to fight the urge to sigh but the urge to not let on how embarrassed you feel is more of a priority, you need to keep that internal. 

“And what has that taught you?” He asks with a small smile. 

Someone else might’ve found the tone cold. If someone else had asked that exact question, it might’ve felt condescending. But you know exactly what it is. 

Norm knows better, not better than you, he’s not that kind of arrogant. It’s because he’s always known that he knows better than most in these reinforced concrete and metal walls you all live in. But you live in a meritocracy. Everyone is in constant pursuit to be kind and to better and upskill as a contributing member of Vault society. Of course if someone’s openly reading it’s an academic pursuit, to be more well-read, that they can learn an important tale and moral lesson, or to use it as a quote to whip out at a convenient time in a council meeting or for intellectual criticism of another philosopher or writer’s thesis. And you both know it’s why each book that was chosen for survival by Vault-Tec was carefully curated, all in the name of intellectual pursuits and other reasons beyond either of your imagination. 

“Just further proof why we have rules against familial relations.” You reply after a slow blink, you remember what his sense of humour used to be like in class, how teachers would occasionally stifle an eye roll and sigh or would take a moment to then replaster their smile back on. You look at him, and your eyes can’t help but take in the shape of his nose as if you hadn’t already committed it to memory a thousand times before now. 

“Hah.” He says quietly, as if it’s amusing, which he finds to be a little as he lets out a small chuckle and his mouth quirks up and that makes you happy. It’s an expression that doesn’t grace his handsome face often. “Might need to pass that on to Chet, if that’s the case, I doubt he’s read it.” 

You let out a chuckle at that, and Norm’s brow furrows for a mere second as he takes you in. His mouth is still in a small smile but not many people find his humour to actually be humorous, his father and Lucy love him but he earns more small sighs and tired smiles from them than anything close to a laugh. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with this copy.” You reply with another slow blink. 

You watch his mouth, mentally tracing his lips with your eyes as he sucks his lips for a moment and nods, his eyes dropping to the ground again. It’s only then that you realise how close the toes of your feet are to each other. He couldn’t be looking down because of that, or thinking about that though. You are cursed to yearn in silence. “Appreciate it.” He says with a small smirk as he looks up at your eyes, he raises his eyebrows slightly to replace any verbal goodbyes and he walks off. 

Norm leaves you as he found you minutes before, all alone in false sunlight with a book in your hands. You still haven’t found the missing puzzle pieces. 

It had been four days now. Four days since you’d had that conversation with Norm, there had been plenty of stolen glances, and a few returned smiles when your eyes met across corridors or the dining hall, but Norman MacLean was still, one of the only things occupying your mind.

You wouldn’t complain, why would you? How could you when the fact that those glances, and snippets of conversations were now a supercut in your head that provided comfort whenever you started to get into another emotional crisis about vault life and what the history was that had brought everyone to this point. But still, you couldn’t help but sometimes worry over this yearning. How unrequited it could be. How unrequited it felt. 

You felt a hunger in the pit of your stomach each time that you saw his shadow, each time you two made eye contact you couldn’t help but feel as if it was a caress on your skin, even though the only time he’d touched you was to help you up when you’d fallen over outside when you were seven. He’d insisted on being the one to put the excessive amount of band-aids on your grazed hands. Hank had stood back and watched, finding it endearing, how concentrated Norm’s face was at such a young age. Maybe they should’ve thought about trialling him in medicine, but no, he probably still lacked the desired enthusiasm during the first-aid training vault-dwellers did. 

You were seated with your family for a council update, everyone gathered to sit on the folded chairs, you and your family were always extremely punctual, you sat with them on one side while the other was still a row of a few empty seats. 

As people slowly trickle in you see Norm come in, he looks mentally fatigued as he looks around, you turn your head to face your family so you don’t catch his eye in hopes of him not noticing your stare. How pathetic would he think you are if he saw you looking at him like a wide-eyed puppy, begging for love? You can imagine, but you don’t want to know. After a moment you hear somebody sit down next to you, the chatter of people finding seats fills your ears but you don’t hear any from whoever sits down. You feel their arm brush against yours, you know it’s nothing but you instinctively turn to see who it is and to give them a polite and welcoming smile. 

It’s Norm. Of course, it’s Norm. But why is it? He’s just facing ahead so he hasn’t acknowledged you yet, although you’re sure he can see your smile and look in his peripheral vision. “Hey.” You say quietly in a warm voice as you look at his handsome side profile, he shouldn’t look that good. His face shouldn’t be so perfectly sculpted. “Hi.” He says quietly as he tilts his head giving you a small look that seems dramatically playful which makes you smile, and let out a silent chuckle. Norm’s face turns back ahead to face the front where his father now stands and the council sit. Your eyes follow his gaze and you turn back in your seat to look straight ahead as Hank MacLean starts his updates in his usual down-to-earth, selfless leader tone. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, him choosing this seat, you even wonder if his arm brushing against you was intentional as he sat down and then again you wonder if you were being crazy for wondering that. As Hank’s words go on to fill the air, they don’t really fill your head, that’s too busy being at full capacity with thoughts of Norman. You rub your chin after a moment, hoping the feeling of your fingertips and nails against your chin might create a sensory distraction. You get a completely different kind of sensory distraction when his arm gently brushes against yours as he leans back in his seat, he adjusts himself so that your shoulders are touching and you can feel his arm against yours. You can’t help but silently gasp, hoping he doesn’t hear it and your breath traps itself as you hold your breath. Feeling far too scared to move. It has to be intentional, you look at him through the corner of your eye as you try not to move. He’s still looking ahead, his expression unfazed as he looks at the people in front of him but he’s still sitting in that position. He hasn’t moved his arm. 

It’s intentional. 

You try to breathe again as your cheeks heat up, and you bite the corner of your lip. The feeling of his arm against yours sends shivers up your spine and you can feel the warmth of that small point of contact radiating throughout the rest of your body. 

The connection you feel with Norm is deep and for the first time in quite a while, this simple gesture of touching arms makes you wonder if these years of yearning maybe aren’t unrequited. You feel your shoulders start to slowly rise and fall again at this thought, this movement hasn’t disturbed Norm away. A smile grows on your face like the corn that’s picked around the year, as you smile and look ahead. The meeting continues like this, it isn’t till the end that you lose that gentle, physical touch, sweet connection that you long for as Norm gets up and leaves to carry on with his day, you smile as he stands up, he gives you as small smile and walks away. You’re now touch-starved all over again, and you think it feels more hollow after feeling a touch from him. 

Maybe one day it won’t be just your arms touching but instead your hands, your hands will brush against each other and then your fingers will interlock together. You’re better at camouflaging but you’re certain that your souls are made of and connected by the same things. 

It’s been what feels like an eternity since you felt Norm’s simple touch, it’s occupied every thought and been the reason behind nearly every smile since it happened. The question is though, has it been haunting Norm at all? You know he isn’t seeing anyone, secrets like that don’t exist here and it would certainly be talk with how introverted Norm is. 

Hours is the amount of time you’ve spent trying to think of a reason to approach him but nothing feels right and you decide against it anytime you get close to it. You try to find any excuse to visit him and the one you can think of is beyond pathetic, and you know that. 

You find another copy of a collection of plays and decide to give it to Norm, for him to decide whether he wants to read it or to fulfil a bit. It’s not a good reason, but it’s the best you’d been able to come up with. And at least with the book in your hands there would be some comfort in the pages, the smell of them and the remaining dust that haunted the corners that had been facing the wall. It can ground you and be something to hold onto anxiously while you make a fool of yourself. Norm conveniently answers after you’ve knocked at the MacLean family unit. He looks at your face and raises his eyebrows slightly, his face switches from an apathetic expression to one a bit warmer. “Hey.” You say, smiling at him but you think it must come off as panicked and scared as you look at him with wide eyes and feel an anxious parasite growing and feeding off of you in your brain. 

“Hi.” He says as he steps back letting you come into the unit. You walk in, and it’s nice and tidy but it’s the same as essentially your family unit and every other unit in Vault 33. You blink as you look around for a couple of seconds and your eyes land back on him, he’s been watching you the whole time. 

“After Lucy?” He asks and you feel your cheeks heat up, you liked Lucy, she was an extremely lovely person and you did consider her a close friend. “No.” You shake your head, the admission makes you feel like coming here was an even worse idea than what you thought it was just a few minutes ago. “I brought a copy of tragedies, in case you needed any dark reading, or wanted to… pass them on…” You continue and bite your lip for a second. 

Norm lets out a little chuckle that shakes his shoulders for a second but it’s borderline silent, almost not real. He looks into your eyes and takes a step closer, you’re not sure if he’s going to do the hospitality script you learn from a young age of offering a glass of water or cup of old Joe. 

Instead, he quickly steps closer and Norm places his hands on the back of your neck, you sharply exhale and you know that the hair on the back of your neck is standing up. The feeling of goosebumps on every inch of your skin overwhelms your senses as his lips finally crash down. 

His lips are slightly chapped and you can feel that against yours, the fine lines and cracks as they press against your mouth. There’s nothing you can do but melt into his touch as you’re overcome with warmth. But there isn’t anything else you’d want to do anyway. 

There’s nothing else you can imagine feeling that feels this good. You kiss him back instinctively and put your hand into his hair as he deepens the kiss, his hair is soft and you run your fingers through it as you feel his tongue, and it’s a clash of your mouths against the other. 

You immediately wonder if the physical warmth of where your bodies come into contact, his breath against your face, his warm lips, and the warmth that envelops you internally is what sunlight feels like. This feeling basks you in what you imagine would be similar to being basked in the light of sunrays would. 

You don’t know how long this lasts, it feels like a sweet lifetime but still deliciously short as you kiss and feel his hair while his hand is gentle on the back of your neck. Like all things, it eventually ends. You look at each other with widened eyes and pant as your lips are no longer in contact. Your cheeks heat up and you almost want to giggle. You see his face is flushed and his eyes shine, you think it’s adoration but you could be projecting. 

“My dad will be back soon.” He whispers knowingly as his eyes look glassy. “Oh.” You look around as if that’ll help you feel more composed. You weren’t expecting this to end so abruptly, this felt like something straight out of a dream and now it was a cold end, something want to shapeshift into a nightmare. You know you should leave, you’re feeling far too flustered to try and have a conversation with Hank and you know this isn’t a conversation Norman wants to try navigating around with his father. “We um… Well, we need to talk…” You breathe out. 

He smiles and whispers your name, the tone is reverent as he says each syllable. “Not now.” His eyes look a little less glassy but it’s still a visible sheen and you can see it, the sun has withdrawn a little.  

“Not now?” You repeat, it comes out as a shaky question though as you feel every muscle in your body tense.

This is rejection, this is what puts all those protagonists you’ve read of into a depression that only the seaside can cure if anything can cure it. Being in this vault, you don’t think you can ask for cornfield projections to change to windy cliffs with waves crashing and the artificial grass to be replaced with manmade sand. You’d always wondered about the sunlight but now you’d have to wonder what sand from a beach felt like as well. 

“No.” He whispers. “That isn’t fair. Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you. 

“When?” “Maybe when you finish the book, not a copy, your book.” 

“Not a copy?” Your face scrunches up, as your brain runs screaming. 

“No.” He answers. “Yours probably has thoughtful annotations or something right?” He asks. 

“Or something.” You whisper back. 

“I’ll read that.” He says. 

You nod, as you pick up the spare copy and walk out from the MacLean unit, you don’t feel like you’re controlling your body right now, it must be some form of muscle memory.  Maybe you need to read and reread every book in the vault to further investigate if what you just felt was sunlight. Or, you wonder, are you still under gaps of sunlight, missing Norm more than anything?

#norm maclean x reader #norm maclean #norm maclean x f reader #norm maclean fallout #fallout series #fall out amazon #fallout fanfic #fallout tv series #fallout #fallout fanfiction #norman maclean #norman maclean x reader #norm maclean fluff #fallout x reader #fallout imagine #norm maclean imagine #moisés arias #moisés arias characters #did you get the mitski references? #could you tell i was depressed while writing half of this? #mitski inspired #fallout prime #fallout show

[yourpeepysucksdotorg]

Looking back on my syscourse days with the wisdom of age, I feel as if I can pinpoint a single psychological concept that explains why syscourse is so prevalent to begin with, and why it’s so toxic and inescapable; group polarization. Basically, people are more likely to come to extreme conclusions or make risky decisions when in a group with those sharing the same ideologies, even though most members of the group will have the same core beliefs that aren’t nearly as radical.

In syscourse, this most often occurs when people debate the validity of endogenic systems. It also makes it impossible to have a good-faith discussion on the matter.

I’m not endo-neutral, and while my thoughts on the matter can be found elsewhere on my blog, I’ll remain neutral for the sake of this post making it to as many people as possible, because I genuinely believe so much fighting could be stopped if we just recognized the unhealthy patterns we’ve fallen into. Disordered systems who are anti-endo seem to blame endogenic systems for a lot of things, and while I’m not endogenic, I can pretty accurately guess that having a bunch of strangers tell you that you make their lives worse by expressing your identity makes you feel shitty. This keeps the two communities separated outside of verbal spats, and of course, after these spats, members of both communities will want support. Once again, I can’t speak from the endogenic perspective. But I know that anti-endos will continue to perpetuate that endos are bad, that you didn’t do anything wrong, that they’re just dumb and stupid. Which, I can assume this keeps endogenic systems in constant defense mode, as they constantly have to check which system blogs or servers are or aren’t okay to interact with, out of fear of being attacked by other systems, or worse, becoming some kind of lolcow for singlets.

When both sides feel like they’re being attacked, no productive discussion can be had. Once again, I do have my own opinions on the matter, but right now, I’m really just advocating for all systems to treat each other like living beings. If someone is being terrible to you, there’s no pressure to fight back. Just block them. While that one person might be an asshole, there are so many more people who care about you, support you, and want you to exist more than you even know. This is a saying as old as time, but don’t feed the trolls. Don’t aggressively retaliate, because you’re just giving them more material to bend to their will. And if you’re the one perpetuating assholery, just stop.

Maybe I’m just being an optimist, but I believe that so much syscourse could become irrelevant if we realized that the world isn’t black and white, and there aren’t good and evil systems. We’re all in this together, singlets are still gonna treat us like we’re nuts. We need to stand united rather than push each other further and further away.

#Legwarmer speaks #syscourse #system #did #endo safe #endogenic #did osdd #osdd #osddid #did system #I haven’t been in the system community for a while so I forgot how to tag. sowwy

[ilikekidsshows]

Could I ask for your thoughts on Kuro Neko the episode as a whole? It's actually kind of my final straw, so I wanted to ask for your perspective on it.

I haven’t actually seen Kuro Neko in its entirety, and I have no intention to. This episode repels me. Everything I’ve learned about this episode has just made me want to avoid it more. I’ve read the transcript and I suffered every moment of it. I heard the first episodes of season 5 were good and thought to myself: “God, I hope season 5 doesn’t actually fix season 4 because then I’ll have to watch Kuro Neko to catch up.”

Kuro Neko is like Reflekdoll all over again, when the characters come away with the worst possible lessons. In Reflekdoll, Adrien learns that he should never try to be Ladybug and he can’t handle responsibility, while Marinette learns Cat Noir really does just goof off all the time and that’s his “role”. In Kuro Neko, Adrien and Marinette both learn the same lesson that his feelings don’t matter because Ladybug will always have more important things to worry about than his emotional state and he should just be her emotional support dispenser.

Basically, Kuro Neko has Marinette at her most self-centered in the entire show, and she’s downright selfish in it. That by itself wouldn’t be an issue if this wasn’t the retool and Marinette wasn’t Astruc’s imaginary daughter and therefore the “person” this world was made for. The thing is, the episode doesn’t have Marinette learn a lesson about valuing other people and their opinions, like any other cartoon protagonist would have in this scenario, no no no, the episode instead vindicates her.

Kuro Neko has Marinette chase away her partner with her unjustified negative attitude towards him, and she doesn’t regret it once. Instead the episode makes excuses for how she’s under so much pressure and Cat Noir should be grateful Ladybug considers him a useful tool. It’s basically the New York Special all over again. Marinette is in the wrong, but she’s under so much pressure guys, that Cat Noir should accept whatever mistreatment he receives because doing otherwise would be mean to poor Marinette.

Hot take: Marinette deserved to lose her partner in the New York Special and she deserved to lose him in Kuro Neko. Her actions directly lead to him leaving for completely justified reasons, and Marinette never apologizes. It would have been better for Adrien if he didn’t come back, so yeah, I don’t think “Marinette deserves to lose Cat Noir as a partner” is as extreme of a take as I was convinced it was when I first saw the special. Because Marinette keeps pulling this shit and never reflects or improves on her behavior.

Here’s what Kuro Neko tells me: Ladybug doesn’t actually care about Cat Noir as a person, but Cat Noir should still be grateful that he gets a spot on the team working for a leader who constantly abuses her power over him.

This fandom loves to rag on Adrien for being suicidal, because Cat Noir throwing himself in the path of an enemy’s attack to save Ladybug upsets Marinette, but, here’s the thing: LADYBUG DOES IT TOO. LADYBUG HAS PUSHED CAT NOIR INTO AN ENEMY’S WEAPON BECAUSE THAT WAS PART OF HER PLAN IN ‘BACKWARDER’ AND THE FANDOM SLEEPS ON THAT. Marinette’s plans often revolve around Cat Noir being in danger or compromised and the fandom dares to blame him for thinking his life doesn’t matter when that’s what his partner tells him with her actions constantly.

Kuro Neko is just more of that. Cat Noir quitting didn’t come from nowhere. There were warning signs of him missing fights and so on, but Marinette can’t be arsed to spare a single thought to what might be going on with her partner. She just thinks he should be happy he’s getting a break, because being a superhero is so much hard work, projecting her own thoughts and feelings onto him instead of asking. Marinette never asks when it comes to Cat Noir, she just assumes and demands.

She thinks Kuro Neko is Cat Noir, which is equal parts frustrating and hilarious when it’s paired together with her insisting time and time again that she knows Cat Noir so well in this episode. And it’s the episode where she fails to recognize him twice and misconstrues his issues to be about the fact that he can’t handle being one-sidedly in love with her. But, like, here comes the really asinine part; despite all these facts being provably incorrect, the episode still doesn’t make Marinette learn she’s incorrect. It really is Reflekdoll, but worse.

The only time Marinette apologizes in this episode is when she thinks Cat Noir was Akumatized, and it was for “not seeing how broken-hearted he was”, not for actively pushing him away. When Cat Noir comes back, she instead gives him the silent treatment until he says his justified anger at her was just “her kitty being temperamental”, invalidating his own feelings. Sure, Cat Walker, and therefore Cat Noir, heard those apologies, but Marinette doesn’t know that. Somewhere between realizing Kuro Neko isn’t Cat Noir and seeing Cat Noir again, she decided she had done nothing wrong that warranted an apology. And the thing that did it: the person she hurt coddling her through her pity party.

When Marinette realizes that Cat Noir is still missing and not Kuro Neko, in true Marinette fashion, she makes it about herself. “I must be the worst Guardian ever!” she bemoans when she should be putting together a plan. Hell, even a decision to do better by Cat Noir. But no, our solution-oriented protagonist couldn’t possibly make a plan to find and apologize to Cat Noir (maybe even do away with the “no revealing identities” rule so that this can’t happen again), she’s too busy bitching and moaning about how hard she’s having it. The only thing that gets her out of her funk is the new guy, who she thinks she’s just met, calling her faithful former partner “too emotional” and swearing servitude to her and her altar of the most important problems in the world. And the reason the episode is written like this? It’s because the writers don’t think she needs to apologize and do better in the future. Of course they’re not having her come to the conclusion that she needs to fix something, because they don’t think she does.

“You take care of everybody equally, Ladybug. Now I want to take care of you,” Cat Walker says, to absolve Ladybug of any guilt. The reality, though, is completely different. Cat Noir has always supported Ladybug. The reason he quit was because Ladybug made it abundantly clear she didn’t want or need his support anymore. And he’s made to come back to her, saying he hasn’t done enough? HE COMFORTS LADYBUG THROUGH AN EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN AT LEAST ONCE PER SEASON. HE DOES SO FUCKING MUCH AND HE’S FORCED TO SAY HIS EMOTIONS ARE “MAKING TROUBLE” FOR LADYBUG WHILE HIS SELFISH, SELF-CENTERED PARTNER WHO DOESN’T TREAT HIM AS A PERSON GIVES HIM THE SILENT TREATMENT, ONLY FACING HIM WHEN HE MAKES LIGHT OF HIS OWN EMOTIONS SO THAT SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR ACTING LIKE A JERK.

“You treat everybody equally” my ass. The day she starts treating Cat Noir like a person, then we can talk. Before that point, she’s a selfish, entitled jerk and Cat Noir deserves better.

The Fae Cat Noir Interpretation was supposed to reflect a flaw of Marinette’s, that Marinette never thinking about Cat Noir as a human being with emotions and problems was something she’d need to grow out of. Except that she doesn’t. Instead the show agrees with her and makes excuses for her. Adrien isn’t even human, he literally is made a “perfect” fae being that Marinette can treat however she wants and he will never complain and he will be in the wrong if he tries to leave.

#ml critical #ml salt #fae cat noir #kuro neko salt #never mind how the episode itself also trivializes Adrien's feelings with that comedy take on his apparent depression

[damn-stark]

Chapter 42 IFHY

Chapter 42 of Sugar

A/N- This mc is one of the most human mcs I’ve written in my opinion and I will miss writing her and her technique so much when this series comes to an end!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST!!!, talks of death, VIOLENCE, SPOILERS!!!!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- Chapter 260-261

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

There he is, in all his glory. Standing right across from you. The brother you thought you lost…your hope revived, your joy, and your cure to your solace.

How is it possible that he’s alive after being sliced in half?

Then again, he is Satoru Gojo and Shoko probably had something to do with it too.

Not that it matters now, he’s alive just as you thought you lost everything.

“Satoru,” you whisper breathlessly and step forward with a wobbly growing smile.

Said man draws out a deep breath and stays quiet. He stays where he is and doesn’t greet you with something smug. Which is odd, but considering he was dead his lack of witty comments is not concerning.

However, as you get closer to him he shuffles back and finally begins to lift his head. You watch his face the entire time and notice a rather unusual displeased frown. You want to comment on it and assure him that it’s all fine, but you then notice something trailing on his forehead, something particular that you’ve only seen on one other person.

But it can’t be…

Yet it’s believable. He survived so long for a reason—But it can’t be Kenjaku can it? It can’t be him taking over your brother's body, you killed him with your own hands. It can’t…

But it is.

“No,” you mumble in horror and come to an immediate halt. “No,” you repeat with a flicker of change in your tone.

The man pretending to be your brother doesn’t show smugness, not like when he pretended to be Suguru, he seems rather uncomfortable and still displeased.

“No,” you cry out and step back, making the pretender step forward with his arms out.

“It’s not Kenjaku,” he says in his voice, in that soft yet deep and stupid smug voice Satoru had.

“It’s,” he pauses and glances over at Shoko, but you don’t follow his line of gaze, your eyes stay glued on him as you prepare an attack.

“It’s Yuta…Okkotsu…” he trails off, and you only become more horrified. Perhaps even more so than when you thought it was Kenjaku in that split second because it can’t be the same boy that killed Suguru, it can’t be him who took your brother too, who is using him the same way Kenjaku used Suguru.

It can’t be the boy who Satoru saved from a death sentence. It can't be the boy Miguel vouched for or the boy you forgave. It can’t be him…

“I wish I could explain,” he keeps talking in a stolen voice he somehow manipulated to sound like his own awkward one. “I wish you didn’t have to find out this way. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry? Sorry?

And that’s all he has to say to explain this madness, this…robbery. A crime, a betrayal of the highest offense before he just waltzs off without even meeting your eye?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

You keep asking yourself why him once again. You look to Shoko for the answer, but her attention is on Choso’s body getting picked up by the people helping her, so she misses your cry for help, therefore missing the window she had to talk you down and try and comfort you.

Choso wouldn’t have missed that window, he would’ve clocked your growing anger, and your soul shattering even more at the knowledge that Okkotsu is using your brother's body as if he were some weapon to be picked up and used at his convenience.

Choso would’ve been surprised too at the sight of those stitches but when everything was explained he would’ve heard your silent cry for help, he would’ve stopped your grief from twisting to rage. But he’s not here, and Shoko didn’t catch that window, Kirara was beside you, but they couldn’t read you so deeply, so that grief so obviously painted on every perimeter of your face and body, and every inch of your soul gets tainted by this display of monstrosity and betrayal that only you saw because he had already taken the man you loved last year.

Yuta Okkotsu is the reason Suguru Geto is dead. And now he’s taken your beloved brother only a year later, and all he has to say is sorry…but he didn’t even meet your eyes either, he stood stiffly in that same spot before walking away as if nothing was wrong.

Why is no one reacting? Why is no one as livid as you?

Why? Why? Why?!

You…should've killed him a long time ago. Why did you ever forgive Okkotsu? Why is he using your brother's body the same way Kenjaku used Suguru? Why is this happening again?

Why?!

Why is he getting away? You can’t let him get away, you can’t let him take someone else you love. Satoru was your brother and if no one else will do anything about it, you will.

You will!

So with nothing else in your mind but livid anger, you slowly turn with your hand curling into a fist. You summon fire to start this attack, but as you try to bask your fist with your reliable flames all you get is a spark which has never happened before—well not since you first started training…

Yet, you don’t think too deeply about your complications, instead, you act quickly and dig in your pocket. Your Worm cursed spirit balled up inside doesn’t fail to hand you the blade you wanted, a blade that Shoko doesn’t see since she's lost in her own thoughts, and Kirara doesn’t get to notice because your back is turned, leaving you an opening, letting you dig your heels on the ground before you charge at Okkotsu from behind.

The pretender doesn’t expect you to charge at him so he doesn’t watch his back. He doesn’t even hear you coming right away. Everything is happening fast to everyone else, but for you time moves slowly.

You have time to clench your jaw and twist your face into a wicked sneer. You have time to get near him before you blurt out a broken cry from so deep inside your chest that it hurts your lungs and brings streams of tears to your eyes.

And in your unexpected fit of rage, you actually manage to swing your blade and slash the pretenders back before he spins around and jumps back to dodge your next swing.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you snap at Okkotsu and this time you pretend to swing your blade. Okkotsu swings to the other side to miss being cut, but he steps right into your line of fire so you manage to swing your fist and land a hard jab across his face.

Shoko shouts your name and tells you to stop, but you kick your leg and hurl the pretender back.

“I won’t,” Okkotsu mutters with new blood trickling down his nose and his busted lip. “I won't fight you out of respect for him. He loved you.”

He…loved…you, but now he’s gone too…

And Okkotsu has the audacity to say that so casually while being in his body.

“I hate you,” you snarl and lunge at him again, this time you manage to throw your arms around his waist and tackle him to the ground.

Kirara tries to stop you, but you grab onto the pretender's shoulders and roll your bodies out of reach, and quickly try to make quick work of him before you’re eventually stopped. Even if he doesn’t try to stop you, you slam your fists across his face again and again until he’s bleeding from one eye, and his nose is crooked.

You pull your arm back to swing again, but as Okkotsu watches you with your brother's bright blue eyes that had been so unique, you suddenly halt in your attack and meet his gaze with a sense of guilt.

You see your brother, the only brother you had. The brother who would let you sneak into his bed when you were little kids because you were terrified. You see Satoru Gojo, your daughter's Uncle, your best friend, and the brother who loved you regardless of all you did. You see him and you have the sudden need to stop this foolishness.

But…that ever so heavy grief stabs you in the heart as a flash of him smiling at you like everything was great in the world passes through your mind, and you can’t help but grow rabid almost as if it had been a switch.

“You motherfucker!” You bellow at him as you pick up your blade from the ground and swing up. “You’re going to fucking die!” You cry out of agony and rage and don’t hesitate a moment longer before swinging down.

Satoru once hesitated last year when you fought. He had you pinned and he was going to make a finishing move, but he hesitated. You don’t. You bring the blade down.

Albeit just as the tip nears the pretender’s forehead, a force manages to grab your wrists, stopping you just in time.

“Stop,” you recognize that deep voice.

“Yuta!” You hear a young woman yell.

“Stop it,” the voice beside you whispers sharply.

Choso?

You look over and expect your husband, but you actually see Miguel.

“He has a job to do,” he tries to get it through your head so you’d cooperate, but betrayal blares throughout your head.

“You knew?” You ask, almost frightened.

Miguel scoffs. “No, of course not. I pieced it together just now and even I know you can’t kill him.”

You look back down at Okkotsu in your brother's body and shake your head. “But he’s my brother.” You whisper heartbrokenly.

“And what Okkotsu has to do is much more important than that, don’t you see it? This is not like Kenjaku and Suguru. Focus.”

Strong heart Choso would say.

But you can’t. Not when he’s gone too.

However, Maki walks over and pulls the pretender out from under you so you won't snap again and actually finish the job this time.

“Go,” you hear her tell him. “Who knows how much time you have left now.”

“But…” your whisper quivers, “he’s my brother.”

“Yes, he was,” Miguel corrects you between trying to sound comforting yet affirmative.

Not like it actually eases anything. You don’t continue on your rampage, you just sit there brokenheartedly and watch Okkotsu take away your brother's body with him into the disaster Sukuna made with nothing but his raw power.

It almost feels like your brother is leaving you behind all over again. You’re watching him walk away and it feels like that day 11 years ago when he left you behind. You feel that same ache. You know it’s not the same, not at all, but in the back of your mind it feels like the same thing.

“Get up,” Miguel says a lot kinder than before as he takes the blade away and pulls you to your feet, which would make this the second time someone has helped you up as if you were some wounded animal. You really hate it, it makes you feel so weak, but you also can’t help it, you can’t muster that much strength, not anymore.

“We could both use some rest now,” you hear someone else interject, and when you look over you notice Larue. He’s wounded but alive.

“You’re okay,” you point out with a sense of relief.

Larue narrows his eyes and his eyebrows slowly knit together before he releases a disbelieved gasp.

“Bring her with me,” Shoko interrupts before you can press Larue for an answer about his sudden confusion and then ask if what you asked for worked.

When you look over at Shoko, however, that anger returns. It’s not violent like the anger you had for Okkotsu. it’s livid yes, and blinding too, but filled with nothing else but betrayal.

She doesn’t see it though, she doesn’t hear it in your voice or in the way your body stiffens and stays in place rather than trailing after her.

“Get Choso’s body,” you tell Miguel, who doesn’t fret to follow after the man carrying your husband's body, causing Shoko to stop in her tracks and turn around to face you. However, the moment she does turn you avert her gaze and watch Miguel gently take Choso from the hand of strangers.

“Will we finally leave, I admit perhaps I made a grave mistake by coming,” Larue interjects with exhaustion weighing his voice down.

“Almost,” you assure him, making Shoko probe.

“What do you mean?”

You ignore her and begin to turn, but she strides over in a hurry and grabs your arm to stop you and turn you around to grab your chin and pick your head up, and look into your eyes.

You don’t understand what she’s doing nor do you care to, so you quickly pull yourself away and step back with your face twisting in anger. Shoko doesn’t understand your sudden precaution, she actually finds it hurtful as well as worrying that you were so quick to pull away though.

“Are you okay?” She checks on you, but you let her words be carried away. You have things to say, but you can’t or want to entertain her any longer. It’s petty, you know, you tend to just give people the cold shoulder when they’ve deeply wounded you, but you just can’t help it, or be the better person, your words just get stuck in your heart. And since you no longer feel like you have such a thing, the words fall into the abyss, leaving you silent and angry.

Shoko is quick to grasp what’s happening, she doesn’t know why, but she’s starting to pick up on your silent treatment and that anger embedded in your deep and long frown, as well as your fisted hands. Thus she calls out for you loudly and demandingly.

And this time you react by slowly lifting your head and meeting her worried and puzzled gaze, letting her see once and for all what she suspected in full glory, the eyes of the woman you used to be, the eyes that Satoru claimed were where he found his home. They aren’t infused with flames, not anymore, they’re the eyes you were born with, the eyes Shoko met for the first time when you started school. Only now your eyes are a strangers for a third time.

Albeit this time she won’t let you be estranged.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko finally says out loud as she starts to grasp what’s going on with you. “It hurts, I know, but you can’t walk away. I won’t let you walk away, not again.”

Her words sting. They feel like getting stabbed and or being robbed of breath. But it doesn't stop those words that you had lost find their way back.

“What do you know about my hurt?” You snap back with your eyes narrowing and your brows pinching together. “What do you know about anything I feel? Did you even try to stop them? He was your best friend.”

Shoko’s breath catches but she doesn’t falter, even if her watery eyes say otherwise. “Humanity relies on certain sacrifices. He knew that…Satoru knew that…”

You gasp as if his name coming out of her mouth physically hurt you.

“…that’s why he let it happen.”

You swallow thickly and understand what she says, it sounds like something he would do, but you can’t accept it. Not because you don’t want to believe it, but because you’re angry she didn’t stop him.

“He would do something stupid like that,” you feign a laugh and sniffle. “But that’s when you stop him. That’s when you fight him. Did you even try? Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask with a quivering voice.

Shoko steps forward and doesn’t hide to spare you. “Because he knew how you would react.”

You process her words and think about how considerate your brother was. He never failed to think about you.

Why did you realize that so late into your life?

“Because he knew I would stop him from doing something stupid,” you argue. “This was stupid. He never lived his life, he never actually thought about what he wanted, he always thought about everyone else. It’s why I would’ve stopped him because it’s stupid!”

“And what you’re doing now isn’t stupid?” Shoko quickly counters, making you clench your jaw and exhale deeply with frustration. “People still need you.”

“It’s not the same,” you defend your actions. “You know that, so don’t throw it at my face like it is.”

Shoko sighs deeply and takes another step closer to you, which doesn’t make you move back. You stay put and hold her tear-filled gaze.

“You should’ve stopped him,” you leave no room for her to interject. “You should’ve stopped them from using his body like some kind of tool the same way Suguru’s was. And you shouldn’t have lied to me about why you needed Kenjaku’s brain.”

“You would have understood?” She quickly spats.

You stay calm and shrug. “Kenjaku was Choso’s father, it was for him to decide, not me. And I’m sure he would’ve given it up if you asked. Instead, you lied about it and about Satoru.”

Shoko parts her lips to argue back, but she instead drops her gaze and swallows back nervously. “Okkotsu needed Suguru’s body too,” she throws out rapidly and shakily.

And now for you, it gets hard to breathe. You can’t breathe. Your chest is too heavy.

Suguru was yours. Yours and Satori’s. You just got him back from the clutches of some insane sorcerer. He could finally rest and she…they…

Breathe…

Breathe.

Breathe.

“I’m sorry,” is all Shoko says.

You still can’t breathe. It hurts too much.

Shoko sees that and grabs your shoulder to try and soothe your growing panic.

“Just—”

You cut her off by slapping her hand away and taking a big step back while you look at her as if she had just literally stabbed you in the back. You then point an accusing finger at her, but nothing comes out, you’re crippled with betrayal.

After a second of you and her just growing tension, a shaky breath finally makes it past your lips but words don’t follow. They’re lost for good this time. Shoko calls out to you in an attempt to hear from you, to continue this argument so she could try and mend what she could so you wouldn’t leave, but it’s too late and the wrong choices were made. Choices for the good of humanity perhaps, but you don’t see it that way in your agonizing grief.

You see blaring betrayal and your silence loudly displays it as well as the tears that crawl down your cheeks.

“Kirara,” you direct at the only person you can speak to, someone you don’t blame because they’re young, and they don’t carry that same history with Satoru or Suguru. Perhaps they accepted snatching Satoru’s body, but it’s not the same as Shoko accepting it. Not in your eyes.

“If you need help, call me, I won’t be far. I’ll be watching over Kinji from the broadcast,” you let them know as you step back.

“Where are you going?” They quickly blurt in confusion. “You can't go.”

You sigh and just hold their gaze. “I’ll be close to Yuji. Or as close as I can be.” You assure them and then spare one last glance at Shoko, catching tears rolling down her cheeks and a deep grief that mirrors yours. But you can’t look past your own pain to care. You just let your gaze linger as you ache for things to be different for the sake of your friendship and the love you bear for her, but you can’t…no matter how hard you try, you can’t look past her letting them use Satoru, and taking Suguru’s body from you.

Even if it isn’t her fault, or if it is, you don’t care. You just turn away and leave her behind the same way Suguru did, and the same way Satoru did.

You almost find yourself leaving it all behind and just giving up on everything, it’s what they deserve after dehumanizing Satoru the way they did. And you don’t care if it’s for the greater good, who cares if somehow you would have understood in a different life, you don’t care. Just like you don’t care about trying to understand Shoko. They took something from you, they hurt you, and you can’t look past it, you aren’t that big of a person because he was your brother, and no matter what happened he was always there. Now he won’t, now they’ve taken him, just like they took Suguru.

However, as much as you want to leave, as much as you hate humanity as a whole now, people you still care about are out fighting with their lives. They’re the only reason why you stay behind.

You won’t fight anymore, you’ll just look out for them away from Shoko, and from the depths of your solitude that drowns out the concept of time, the conversation Larue and Miguel hold, and the calamity of battle in the far distance.

Even surrounded by people that loneliness that you so feared still plagues you, how funny is that?

Nevertheless, you don’t break from your trance until Miguel taps your leg. He notices your lack of know-how and sighs before probing, “what did you do?”

There’s no need to ask what he's referring to because you know from the silence of the wind, the coldness that outran the heat that once ran through your veins as if it was blood, the unwelcoming earth that doesn’t eagerly speak to you, and the ignoring water that up and left you from ever feeling its delicate touch, that he’s referring to the binding vow that has yet to prove it worked.

Binding vows aren’t known to fail, but this binding vow is different, you’re exchanging powers for life. It’s different therefore there’s a high chance all you get is played.

“I can still see curses,” you don’t give Miguel the answers he seeks. “I’m not a non-sorcerer.”

“No, but you’re basically nothing now,” he hits you with the truth, something that Larue quickly rebuttals in your defense.

“She’s not nothing, you’re just being cruel—”

“I’m being honest,” Miguel cuts Larue off. “She’s useless in this fight now. What you did was stupid.”

You blink and try to look over at Choso, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. You haven’t been able to look at him because if it doesn’t work all you gave up will be for nothing and you’ll end up just repaying for all the evil you’ve done.

“You don’t know what I did,” you retort and slide your eyes up to pierce your annoyed glare at him.

Miguel sighs and glances at the man you left behind you before looking back at you. “I have an idea,” he assumes right. “Giving everything you are for something that has never been done before is stupid. What will you do now?”

You drift your gaze to your hands and mutter. “Nothing. I won’t do anything. Even if I had my technique I wouldn't do anything because I don't care about them anymore. Humanity can die for all I care.”

Larue watches you with pity after knowing how much you deeply cared about the sorcerer side of humanity. He almost doesn’t recognize who you are, but just like Shoko, he knows this is you grieving. You’re at your worst and all the people who could’ve pulled you out of it are gone. You’re alone and he knows it’s drowning you.

Larue almost wants to try and comfort you even if he knows it’d be a useless endeavor, but Miguel pushes off his attempts.

“Why didn’t you ever do it for Suguru then, what you did now for this man?” Miguel asks.

You’ve thought about that too during your time on this roof, and the answer is simple, you had your brother so you weren’t writhing in your loneliness like you are now. You love them both the same way, you just…had…Satoru. Now you don’t.

“Satoru was here. The twins. Nanami. Now I don’t have anyone…” you trail off and fist your hands so hard your nails pierce a layer of skin. Yet it doesn’t hurt like you thought it would, no matter how hard you keep pressing, or if blood spills.

“You have us,” Larue breaks the silence and pulls your eyes away from the blood you spill. You offer him a smile but it’s far too short-lived.

“I’m going to kill Okkotsu,” you blurt with more emotion than you’ve shown over the past several minutes. “And neither of you are going to stop me.”

Both Miguel and Larue look at you with surprise, even if what you want is like you, the way you say it so bluntly and carrying so much pain catches them off guard for a moment until Miguel steps towards your sitting figure and argues back with frustration.

“You’ll doom humanity if you do…” he trails off and you don't care to follow up with what catches his breath, you don’t look at him right away either, but when you do you snap your eyes up and glare at him with a fuming anger that blinds you.

“I told you I don’t care about humanity,” you spat back and don’t get curious about what he and Larue are suddenly lost on. It isn’t until you hear your name being uttered by a familiar voice that your attention is fully captivated, and there in the barren cold relives a warmth you thought was forever lost.

However, you don’t look back right away, you’re too scared it’s your mind tricking you. After all, you've seen an illusion of Suguru before, and as beautiful as it was, it was only an illusion. You don’t want to be let down again. Thus you let him call out to you again to assure yourself that you heard that deep but gentle melody of his voice before you slowly turn with your eyes downcasted but widened and filled with tears.

A part of the spot you left him on was now empty and lacked a part of his body, and there’s no way a dead man could move by himself. But you still don’t face him because now you’re plagued with the thought of what if he’s somehow still dead and your vow was somehow twisted.

You can feel the shocked stares from Larue and Miguel, they fill the silence with disbelief and impatience for you to react, while…Choso…waits, but also finds himself trying to grasp how he’s back and how his heart is beating once again.

“Is it really you?” You have to ask for your own sake.

You hear shuffling before your breath catches at the sound of his voice. “I think. I’m not sure…one thing I do know is that I’m naked under this sheet.”

You muster a breathless laugh while fat tears run down your cheeks and the shattered heart inside you mends together.

“You…” you trail off and he fills your silence.

“Burnt….I remember. I remember it all. I remember you,” he pauses and sighs. You’re tempted to look but you still can’t.

“I’m sorry,” he brings up softly and filled with sorrow that makes your chest tighten. “I’m sorry. I did the one thing I said I wasn’t going to do. I’m sorry.”

You swallow back thickly and sigh deeply. “Then you understand why I can’t bring myself to go over to you, why I can’t look at you? I don’t want this to be a dream and be hurt all over again.”

“I understand,” he assures you right away before you hear him shifting against the roof in the distance.

“We’ll…be back,” Larue excuses himself and Miguel before they climb down, leaving you and Choso alone under the white sky, and occupying the silence with the sound of his unique footsteps approaching you.

“I would understand if you’re mad at me too,” he says and makes your heart ache in a good way because, of course, he would say something so sweet.

“…I really hurt you. And even if I was dying I hated myself for it because as good of a goodbye I had with Yuji, yours was agonizing,” he continues softly as he stops before you and gets on his knees that are covered by the sheet Larue had put over his body. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t want to leave you, I really didn’t. I meant what I told you, I just had no other choice and it proved to be worthwhile, you’re here!” He exclaims proudly as you see his large and pale hand reach over for yours clawing the ground.

“You’re alive, and…” he trails off for a long while. He even stops in his attempts to grab your hand, and honestly, his stillness tempts you to finally lay your eyes on his body, but you keep your eyes glued on the ground since your mind is still protecting you from potentially being disappointed.

“…you’re not hurt,” he mutters with a sense of disbelief that he doesn’t actually show because he focuses on comforting you. “My sacrifice worked. That’s all I wanted. I’m sorry it hurt you, I’m sorry I made you feel so distressed, but my love,” he coos and finally places his hand on yours, making you gasp at the shot of electricity that his fingers pass to yours.

It’s all so reallike, his hand feels so soft, and warm. It’s not an empty touch conjured by your heart's deepest desires, it’s heavy but gentle. Real.

“…I’m here,” he proclaims with a honey-dipped voice he’s using to comfort you. “I’m here because of you…I think.”

You scoff in amusement and then blink when he lifts your hand and presses it against his chest, over where you feel the rhythm of his heartbeat racing when your fingertips first make contact with his chest, but then when he presses your palm harder against his chest his heartbeat eases.

This time you can’t deny the instant connection you feel when your palm feels his heart and makes yours run at the calm pace his heart runs, almost as if connecting them once again was the comfort they needed.

“Choso,” you cry happily and focus just for a single second longer on his heart beating under his chest before you slowly trail your eyes up his body, finding it unchanged and still as toned and perfectly sculpted as it was before. However, when you reach his neck you notice a burn scar that wasn’t there before. And you would know, you traced his whole body multiple times in your short time intimately together.

The scar isn’t big from the front, it’s sprawled over as if the tips of the flames had been wrapped around his neck, but it’s because it’s only peeking forward that you know it’s hiding its true result on Choso’s back where the fire hurt him the most. And when you start seeing his face the mark of what happened continues to spread, but now that doesn’t catch your eye the same way his inviting pink lips do.

The mark that came with his technique isn’t there anymore, it’s completely gone from his nose, meaning that he is probably just like you now, but you don’t focus on that matter now, or the fact that a thin line of fire now replaced the blood mark on his nose. You instead put all your attention on those beautiful eyes that were unchanged.

His eyes are still so sweet and the same rich brown that you loved, and that were uncoincidentally the same shade of brown as your favorite color.

You notice the guilt he carries, the disbelief that runs behind them, as well as the softness painted by his love for you, but what you fixate on the most is that lively gleam in his eyes that had left his eyes when he died. That gleam is back and brighter than before.

“Choso,” you muse and slide your hand over to grab his hand whilst you reach your other hand over to feel his face and set it in your mind that the flesh you feel is real, it’s not a trick, he’s real, he’s back, and the binding vow you made worked!

He’s back!

“Choso,” you laugh and cry at the same time but don’t throw yourself on him. You continue to move your hand up until you reach his head that’s missing his hair but doesn’t take away from how handsome he still is. Some men can’t pull off a bald head but he makes it look hot.

“I’m sorry,” he means his apology as he watches your eyes study his head.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “It’ll grow back. It’s just hair, all I care about is you. You’re back.”

Choso nods his head as a smile spreads on his lips. “I am,” he reassures your worry before he brings his hand up to cup your jaw and look into your eyes, trapping the next words you were about to utter in your throat as you remember the change you went through too.

“The eyes you met in the darkness last year won’t ever return, I’m sorry,” you tell him the truth right away just in case that somehow kills the love he has for you. “I…gave up my technique and yours in order to have you back...I’m sorry Choso. I’m sorry.”

Said man sighs deeply and drops his gaze to ponder and nod softly.

“You are a non-sorcerer, I’m sorry,” you break it to him pitifully only because now he can’t use his technique to protect his brother, or feel the twins.

“Choso?” You press impatiently. “I understand why you’d be mad, and why you wouldn’t love me.”

At the sound of those words his eyes fly up to meet your perplexed gaze and he shakes his head before he leans in. “No,” he whispers and cups your face with both hands to gently caress your cheeks as he looks deep into your eyes.

“The day I saw you and your fire-kissed eyes for the first time is something I won’t ever forget, and it’s a change that I will have to get used to, but sweetheart, just know that as I look at you all I see is my sun, my moon, my stars, and my beloved. You.”

You beam at him and can’t hold back anymore, you throw your arms around him and pull him for a tight embrace to make sure you can feel his heart beating against your chest as you hold him.

“I love you too,” you finally tell him what you didn’t have the chance to say when he was sacrificing himself in that fire. Words that don’t actually hold the true meaning of how deeply and passionately you love him.

“I love you,” you whisper again and sob into the crook of his neck. All while Choso holds onto you as if breathing and his life depended on it, as if he would somehow lose you if he let you go.

“I love you too,” he redirects sweetly before he finally assures you about your previous worry. “And…I’m not angry, I'm nothing more than ordinary now. I’m human now. Truly human because of you, and I will miss my technique because it made me strong, but…I can be human with you, my children, and my brother. So thank you.”

You pull back and look at him with a bright and awestruck smile. “You were human to me before, now you’re just a little bit more fragile.”

Choso chuckles softly and nods before his face falls. “Do you still love me as I am now? I know your feelings towards non-sorcerers.”

“Don’t worry,” you assure him as you caress his cheek. “I love you as you are. I don’t care if you're a non-sorcerer and not holding as much power. All that matters is that you’re alive again. That’s the deal I made and my feelings won’t change. Not negatively anyway.” You smile at him.

Choso sighs with relief and just as he’s going to share something you interject coldly. “Besides, I don't care about the sorcerers or non-sources. Not anymore.”

Choso blinks repeatedly in disbelief, and you clench your jaw out of anger while your eyes scream your grief.

“Why?” He asks as he feels thrown off by this sudden change. “You don’t really feel like that do you?”

You clench your fists and scowl as the memory of Okkotsu announcing his identity inside your brother's body plays in your mind and reminds you why your ideals changed so drastically.

“They took the reason why I gave up. They’re using my brother's body like they used Suguru’s. They’re using him and now…” you swallow thickly and huff. “I see Okkotsu in his body and all I hear is the clapping I heard when Riko died. All those people clapped their hands over the death of a little girl…and now that’s all I hear and I can’t care anymore.”

Choso feels a weight over his chest as he hears the cold way you speak. He partially blames himself for the way you think now, even if you just explained the reason why you hate the world, he still finds it in himself to put on some blame because you watched him give up his life to save yours. So even if he was going to help you already, he does it now with more passion.

“No, no, I know that’s not really true. You’re just grieving,” he tries to calm down your anger. “It’s happening again and you’re just using anger to express your grief.”

The creases between your eyebrows crease deeper as your eyebrows pinch further with your heightening anger.

“But whatever they’re doing, they’re doing for the greater good, he would understand that. He would want that.”

“He would want to live and do it himself,” you argue back sharply. “He wouldn't want to get used. He fought the higher-ups for that reason. He wanted to change sorcerer society for that reason!” You exclaim your frustration as you get up and turn to try and breathe as it gets hard to do.

Choso follows you up but doesn't grab you yet, he lets you catch your breath first.

“I would be angry too,” he tries to form some connection since he has brothers too. “I would cry, but then I would think about what they would want. And we as siblings have a better understanding of what they want, don’t you think? Because we have that connection no one else could feel?”

You nod. “That’s why I know he’d want to live…” you trail off and he finally approaches you and grabs your shoulder, making you find your breath and ease some tension off your shoulders.

“You really think that? You don’t think he’d let his students do anything possible so you could all win? Even if not for them then for you and Satori?” Choso pulls right at your heartstrings, causing you to break and sob because in the back of your mind you know that’s all he’d want.

“But,” you try to argue in your brother's defense. “Why did they have to use him like that? Why didn’t he tell me?” You ask softly and then face him.

“Because it wasn’t easy for him either I’m guessing…” Choso coos and gently cradles your face to wipe away your cheeks. “Because he knew if he told you, you’d fight back and it would just make it harder,” he shares because as an older brother that’s what he’d feel.

“I’d fight to keep him alive because that’s what he deserves,” you argue back but that anger you held onto moments ago is faltering. “Because…I wouldn’t want him to leave me alone.”

Choso sighs. “I know, but now you have to support the decisions he made. He’d trust you to do that, right?”

You nod softly even if you don’t want to accept it and the agony in you takes over the next words that come out. “But he promised…he promised to protect me and be with me.”

“He always will,” Choso assures your crying heart. “For as long you live, but now he’ll be closer to you. That’s why you need to have a strong heart, hm?”

And with those beautiful and soft words, the fight you were so stubborn to have falls completely and all that’s left is a grieving woman that’s left small and broken, and that only Choso could comfort.

“Strong heart,” he whispers and places his hand over your heart.

You gently cup his hand and keep it pressed on your chest as you fall to your knees and let yourself cry over the loss of your older brother, Satoru.

“Strong heart,” Choso’s words echo as he falls on his knees with you to be close and comfort you in the way he knew how. In an intimate way that gives you strength to keep fighting no matter how much you lost already because you both know that the fight for life and survival of humanity is not over yet.

At least not for the ones still standing, but for Choso and you without the strength of your techniques, it is…

——

*A COUPLE MONTHS LATER*

A peaceful silence fills the night and you and Choso take advantage of it to find peace and time to relax after being caught up in such a hectic but blissful day.

You find time for your passion that still burns hot after having twins and losing so much, but neither of you struggle to sleep when you can. Not anymore. Those sleepless nights where you admired the serene sky are gone, but, and this is important, the reason why you find sleep so easily wakes you both up with their crying that rings loudly throughout your house.

“It’s okay,” Choso whispers hoarsely. “I’ll go, it’s just Tsukuyomi crying.”

You wipe your eyes and squint nonetheless to look at him through the darkness of the room. “Are you sure?” You probe. “I don’t mind.”

Choso hums and caresses the back of your head so you’d get lulled back to sleep. “Yeah, I’ll go. Go back to sleep.”

You hesitate but your exhaustion wins this fight so you drop your head back on your pillow, letting Choso walk into the twin's room and find his baby boy wailing while his twin sister sleeps throughout it on the cradle beside his.

“Tsu,” Choso coos as he turns a lamp on so the baby can see that he doesn’t need to cry anymore because his father heard his cry.

“What's wrong, hm?” Choso asks as if the three-month-old baby would answer him—well in some ways he does because those sharp cries turn to whimpers the moment Choso picks him up.

“I know you’re not hungry,” he speaks softly but clearly to his baby because he read that’s what’s good for them to hear—“your mother just fed you before bed. And you don’t smell like your diaper is full either.”

The baby boy blinks repeatedly and watches his father with a trembling lip. He continues to breathe heavily, leaving Choso confused about how to comfort him. He knows it doesn’t take much, but he can’t find a way to comfort him, not the way you can.

You were so loving right away—not that he wasn’t, he cried when he saw the twins for the first time, and that need to protect them only heightened when he held them both for the first time. He would die for them, he’d kill for them too if the need arose. It’s just…he doesn’t feel that connection to them.

He doesn’t know why. He aches to feel it, to know right away what it is they need in the same way you know without as much as double thinking, but he’s struggled and it’s killing him.

He thought that he would feel that instant bond with his son at least because all he had was brothers after all, but that failed to manifest with his son.

They also have your eyes and he loves to get lost in them. They share your unique white hair too, he’s failed to hold onto that bond he now aches for. So maybe having you tend to baby Tsukuyomi would be the best thing, you would know how to put him back to sleep. He can’t if it doesn’t involve a bottle of warm milk.

“Why don’t we get your mother,” he tells the baby boy. “Hm?” He hums and doesn’t wait for a response now before turning off the light.

However, the moment the room is dark Tsukuyomi jumps and begins to cry, making Choso quickly turn the light back on so the cries won’t wake Suki up and lead him to more trouble.

“It’s all right,” Choso soothes the baby boy heaving and pouting. “You’re all right.”

Choso wipes away the little tears rolling down his round cheeks before he starts gently rocking him. “See I’m here. Did you have a nightmare?”

Tsukuyomi lets out a shaky breath and Choso now gently caresses his head in the same way he caresses your scalp when you’re cuddling in bed, and that seems to comfort baby Tsukuyomi the same way it calms you down.

“Yeah,” Choso laughs softly. “Your mother likes that too.” He smiles gently and confesses to his son. “Your mother has nightmares too. I’m sure she’ll tell you why she does when you’re older, but as for now, when she has them I caress her head too.”

Tsukuyomi blinks and his pupils dilate while his lips suddenly lift to a gentle smile. Choso can't help but smile proudly over that simple but beautiful gesture before he’s caught by surprise by Tsukuyomi stretching out his chubby arms and grabbing his face.

“Oh,” Choso gasps and holds his son's gaze, while Tsukuyomi coos and smiles brighter as if admiring his father.

Choso’s breath catches and Tsukuyomi refuses to let him go just yet and insists on keeping him close. In that moment sparking that forever bond Choso was aching for.

“You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me,” Choso tells his son with tears running down his cheeks. “You, your mother, your sisters, and your uncle Yuji. I’m grateful every day to your mother for gifting me a chance to be in your life. I love you Tsukuyomi.”

The baby boy drops his arms and wipes his eyes before snuggling his head against Choso’s chest and yawning, leading Choso to rock him back to sleep once and for all.

However, instead of returning him to his crib he picks up baby Suki too and lays the twins on your bed instead to keep them closer, at least for tonight.

“I hope you don’t mind them sleeping with us tonight,” Choso whispers to you, who's only half awake.

“No,” you tell him breathlessly and drag yourself over to connect yourself back to his warmth.

Choso holds you close so you can fall back asleep but as he watches his twins sleeping peacefully he smiles and whispers in your ear. “I want another baby.”

You manage to chuckle and pat his back. “Okay, lover boy let’s first watch these babies grow past two years old, and then we’ll talk. I’m not sure you’ll want more when they’re two.”

Choso’s shoulders shake as he laughs before he contradicts you. “I told you I wanted 10.”

You pull your head back and scoff in amusement. “When you can birth a child then you can ask for ten, as for now let’s stick to our plan, hm? I want more cute babies with you too, but let’s get these babies past two first.”

Choso offers you a comprehensive smile before pressing a reassuring kiss on your forehead and then pressing your head back on his chest. “We can still practice though, right?”

You grin against his chest and nod. “Oh definitely.”

He smiles proudly and returns his gaze to his sleeping twins, finding happy tears return to his eyes, as well as a deep sense of gratitude he can’t hold in. “Thank you,” he shares.

You open your eyes and probe. “For what?”

Choso presses a kiss on the top of your head and responds endearly. “For giving me a second chance at great cost to what you loved.”

You sigh gently and close your eyes before you remind him what you told him several months ago. “I told you I would die for you. It might’ve not been literally at the end but I did mean it and I will never regret it because you are the love of my life. I love you.”

Choso sighs softly and whispers, “I love you too, my love.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- Two more chapters of domestic Choso and Mc? Also, let’s pretend gege gave them a somewhat good ending to that fight. Yes? Yes!

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sugar #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #chapter 42 #jjk 261 #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #choso fanfiction #choso x fem!reader #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo fanfiction #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x female reader #geto suguru fanfiction #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #yuta okkotsu #shoko ieiri #kirara hoshi #miguel jjk #gojo!reader #jjk choso

[mrsoftthoughts]

Maybe im late to do this

But I'm bored, so come with me to my rambling about my personal opinion towards some of Nico di Angelo ships and Rating each one

(Disclaimer: Nothing here goes with intention of offend someone,i always try to be respectful but if something that i say here sounds rude, feel free to tell, I never notice how bad can sound something until someone else points it out)

-Percico/ Nicerci 4/10

Honestly i admire the people that ship this and doesn't give a fuck about what other people say, some of the fan artist and writers make things soo good that should be in a museum

But it's not my personal liking, i only like this when its the exploration of Nico's unrequited crush on Percy , but i honestly I never liked when Nico and Percy had a 100% good relationship of any kind, because their dynamic is complicated at best ( i could talk about it for hours while im probably crying because both are pretty dear to me) and i prefer to think that now their are just "neutral" to each other ( see that part of my description that says "bittersweet relationships sucker" this is why is there) and all that extends to that i cant see these two in a romantic relationship

But that's all, is just not my personal liking, i don't mind the existence of this couple and once again, the people that makes content from them are really talented an deserve all my respect, you guys always come out with the best ideas for angst and i love that of all of you

-Jasico 9/10

They're Cute!! Honestly i don't have my own ideas for them but the Romantic content of these two 90% of the times it's good and i enjoy it ,I really value their friendship more that any other dynamic so i prefer them in a platonic way,but that doesn't mean that i don't get the vision, they really had potential and the people out there are using it

-Solangelo 5/10 or 11/10

The two rates exist because i honestly feel they relationship in canon as one of the worst ways that existed to make them a couple, it's obvious that they are supposed to be something cute and healthy, but all their development is out of screen and then they are just introduced as a couple when Apollo and meg made it to camp, some of their scenes leave me feeling that Nico is out of characters and also in order to give Will the rol of "protective boyfriend" Nico feels quite weak and Will doesn't get many chances of get out that role for being his own character, and he had a lot o potential

(And I'm not be talking about TsatS because is just all the fails of their relationship but multiplied by 1000, ooc, plot holes and toxic traits all around, it's not that bad as a read, but as canon content it is)

But as the saying goes "if you want something done right, do it yourself"

And that's exactly what I do with them, because in this housedhold we don't tolerate wasted potential of any kind, and they relationship deserved better , because honestly the things we know about them and their individual personalities just feels as a good mach and even if the things wouldn't be perfect, no couple it's at the start so it's ok

I also like them in a platonic way, but i think that just like i appreciate more platonic jason and Nico because that how i was introduced to them i lead more towards see them in a romantic one

So Canon gets 5/10 because " it's the tough that counts" ig?

And 11/10 goes for what they could have been ,should be in canon and are in my mind

( i talk abou my thoughts of them a little bit more in this Post if you want to check)

-Nicobaster 9/10

I know, it's a rare ship, but They can be interesting on any kind of relationship and why not make it romantic?? there's a lot of dynamics of where to chose and the alternative AUs that i see of them are great,Cthonic demigod X Cthonic demigod is a good base, I don't have much to say apart from that

Except that you can blame @drksanctuary content for make me like the ship in first place

-Valdangelo 4/10

Not a bad ship ig, i just don't see them as a couple and I don't even now why, i just can't see it , and i also have a pretty strong headcanon of Leo as aromantic so its hard for me to see him in Romantic relationships, but i have nothing against it so that's all

-Clovico 7/10

Another rare ship, one that I've seen around but honestly don't have a a lot to say, i like the little that we see from Clovis and i always like the Cthonic demigod X Cthonic demigod so 7/10 just due the lack of content

-Nico x literally any woman -80000000/10

I love Nicos platonic relationships with the womans in his life, can we keep that PLATONIC and leave the gay in peace??

#my opinion #nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #riordanverse #percico #nicercy #jasico #solangelo #nicobaster #clovico #valdangelo #Mrs soft rambling

[jujutsustraycats]

I'm not as nice as Nami is. I'm not, so don't expect anything too flowery or sweet or diabetes inducing. But I am here for you if you ever need it. And you will undoubtedly need someone in the next two years, and beyond that.

I know you said you're not going on the usual charade of... Competitive exams, that most of the country likes. And that's already a good sign for you. But science is hard. It will be. Your grades might plummet into the fucking ground, or they might slightly waver. And that's OK. It's not the end of the world.

I don't really want to get too personal, but I was a pretty.. good student lmao. Until grade 11 I had a rep for being that student who got a 95+ on every single test without studying. I'd open my books the day before the exam, and pass with a 99 with no effort whatsoever. Yeah, I was that asshole.

You won't be able to do that in 11th and 12th. Or ever again, really. Prepare yourself for that. If you are like me, and don't study until the final day and expected to get a 99, change that right now. It won't happen.

Now, it's going to be about consistency. Smaller efforts, but good ones, spread across every day. Your routine matters. The amount of sleep you get, the stuff you eat, the way you work through your day, everything will matter now. And not just for now, for ahead, too. So make sure you take care of your body, and your mind.

Work, but don't overwork. Have fun, but don't ignore your responsibilities for it. Nami's message mentions chaotic fun— I wasn't that type of person, not really. My fun was cool writing or drawing. Chatting with the people I love. Video gaming. And it's lovely! I'm not going to tell you how to have fun. But you should, because those moments of laughter will carry you through these years.

You're going to make friends, lose friends, make enemies and forget enemies. It'll happen. But the connections you make now will impact the course of your life for the next two years. When you enter conversations, do so with conviction. Know what you think and feel, and don't sway. Listen to opinions but don't let them take over your brain without cross checking it with your own thoughts first.

I hope you have people you can depend on. If nobody else, you have me and Nami. We're here for you.

Adults will tell you a lot, over the course of these two years. Listen to everything, but listen to it with a critical ear. You're capable of knowing what is and isn't important to you, personally. Stick to your guns, but be open to new suggestions. People will make personal quips at you, and they will hurt. Let them. But don't let them stick onto your being and pollute your awareness of yourself.

Mmm.. I don't really have anything else to say, not in particular. I know South India is a lot different to where I'm at rn, so my experiences will not be the same as yours. But I get it. I do, and so you can shoot me an ask or a DM anytime. I will be more than happy to help. Whether it's homework or just a vent, go for it, okay?

And above all, don't look back at what used to be, and what might have been.

When you take decisions, take them with consideration of all the information you have on hand right now. And once you've taken it, don't look back. Maybe later, with extra information, you will regret what you chose. It can happen. But you should be able to look back, and tell yourself, "No. I made that decision after considering everything I knew then. And so I do not regret the choice I made then."

You'll hear this a lot, but a set routine really really helps. I disagree with Nami, I don't think you will need late nights or overworking if you set yourself a routine. My routine changed depending on my schedule for the next day, but always make sure you get a minimum of 6 hours of sleep and some exercise, okay? It'll take you a long way.

And above all.

Anything, really.

Nothing else matters.

But be kind to yourself.

:)

I'm smiling so much with tears in my eyes. Again.

Thank you so much, Lune. Really. I appreciate this so much.

#💛💛💛💛💛💛 #i'm having trouble putting what i feel into words but i'm genuinely grateful for your support. thank you. #and i repeat the same to you– you can also talk to me if you feel like it. i'm here to offer support too #and i appreciate you saying it like how you're comfortable with it that means a lot #asks: lune! #familia nami