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rosaren2498 · 1 year

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Encouragement From Unsurprising Places

This is a sequel to my story ‘Nightmare or Memory’ and I have two others written already; they will be posted soon, likely later today (it’s almost 1 in the morning where I am.)

I made 4 posts that started with what I wanted out of a Dark!Dream x Reader fic that pretty much just became what I wanted out of a Dream x Reader fic so... here it is. There will be some minor differences but this and the others are what I want. It’s self-indulgent as fuck and if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

This is also on my Ao3, as will be the other two, in case you prefer Ao3 (like I do)

Warnings: Reader has Anxiety, Mentioned Trauma?

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You absentmindedly wiped down the bar, gaze blank in that spaced-out sort of way. You couldn't stop thinking about the coat that was hanging in your closet, couldn't stop thinking about twin stars in place of eyes. You jumped when a hand tapped lightly on the bar, head jerking up and eyes wide. You relaxed when you saw Hob.

"Alright, what's going on with you? You've been distracted all week and you've been wiping down the same spot for almost twenty minutes."

You couldn't help the warmth you felt in your chest at seeing his concern, even as your face lightly flushed in embarrassment; you'd never had a better friend than Hob Gadling. "Something happened a few days ago, something kind of strange, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

Hob's eyebrows raised and he leaned against the bar, giving you that look that never failed to make you spill every secret; how does he do that?

Your eyes darted around, but The New Inn was mostly empty now and no one was going to overhear you; it was almost closing time. Your eyes flicked back to Hob and you sighed softly, tossing the towel you'd been using onto the bartop. You placed your hands down, spread apart, leaning against the bar like Hob.

"I had a nightmare, that one I've been having since I got out?" Hob gives a brief nod, expression twisting slightly at the reminder of your trauma. "Well... it didn't end like it always does. It got to the point where Dr. Maxwell was about to, rather eagerly, defile me and I closed my eyes, but then... I heard this voice. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard before, like a rolling storm, like black velvet; deep and soothing even as it sounded angry. When I opened my eyes, Dr. Maxwell was gone, but someone else was standing there. He was... the most beautiful being I've ever seen in my entire life, and given how long I've lived, that's saying something."

You gave a slight huff of laughter that quickly trailed off as you stared down at the bar again, expression puzzled. "He undid my restraints and gave me his coat to cover myself, seeing as I had no clothes on. He showed... concern, I think? It was a little difficult to tell; he seemed pretty stoic, except for the little smile he got on his face when I talked about you. I swear, it changed his entire face, made him light up like the stars in his eyes; it was breathtaking, really. He asked about the nightmare, and I explained that it wasn't really a nightmare, more of a memory." You blinked and shook your head, looking back at Hob, who had a curious expression on his face.

"He tell you who he was?" He paused for a moment, then gave a confused smile. "Why'd you talk about me?"

You bit your bottom lip before sighing. "He's the younger brother of this woman I know, the one I told you about, Teleute? When he told me who he was, I nearly panicked. Teleute and her family are very old and very powerful beings, instrumental to the continued existence of the very universe, in fact. I've met a couple of her siblings, some I could go the rest of eternity without ever having to see or interact with ever again,

"But there are, or were, three I'd never met: her brothers. One is missing, or rather, he left their family several hundred years ago, and hasn't been heard from since; they don't talk about him. The second is the eldest of the family, and I don't particularly want to meet him; I'm a little too worried I'd get myself in a lot of trouble by punching him in his stupid, hooded face. The third... well, he's Teleute's oldest, younger brother, and the second most powerful of their family. I talked to him about you because he was surprised that I knew about him when he told me who he was. I mentioned that, while I did know some of his siblings, we also shared a common friend," you casually pointed a finger at Hob, "you."

Hob frowned, clearly confused, and opened his mouth. "I don't-"

You cut him off by waving your hand. "You might know him as Morpheus, or... Dream? About 5'10", wild hair that's dark as a raven's feather, pale as a corpse? Never smiles except with tiny little micro-expressions?" You didn't mention the rosebud color of his lips, or how utterly ethereal he looked; they weren't normal details to mention.

Hob blinked, startled. "You know Dream?"

You huffed another brief laugh. "As I said, I only met him a week ago. Anyways, he said that particular nightmare wouldn't bother me and then, before I could even respond, did this thing that made his voice echo in the room and in my head, and I woke up... wearing the coat he lent me."

Hob looked even more surprised- if that was possible- and more intrigued. "You woke up wearing his coat?"

You nodded. "It's still sitting in my closet. I... as tempted as I am to wear it- it's really comfortable- it feels kind of wrong? I'd like to return it to him and thank him again, but I don't know how to reach out to him. I'm not even sure I want to. Knowing his family hasn't really done me much good, beyond my friendship with his elder sister." You don't mention how Dream's scent is still on the coat, nor how you can't help but react to it; you can't really explain it anyways.

"I can let him know you want to talk to him when I see him next. We aren't just meeting every century anymore, which is great. Usually, it's at least bi-weekly, but sometimes he gets a little too busy with his function and it's once a month."

You paused, giving the offer, genuine that it was, its due thought. Part of you wanted to accept; you wanted to return the Dream Lord's coat and see him again. However, part of you wanted to refuse; you wanted to hold onto the coat as long as possible and now have him come looking for it.

"I'm... not sure that's a good idea. I don't actually know if he intentionally left the coat with him or if I somehow took it with me when I woke. One would actually be... really sweet, and the other would be very bad."

Hob eyed you before giving a small shrug and a smile. "If you say so. Just let me know if you change your mind."

---

The only reason finding Teleute wasn't difficult was because she tended to know when someone wanted (or needed) to speak with her. So, when you were approached by a dark-haired, dark-eyed, and dark-skinned woman with a beautiful smile and an ankh necklace, you weren't bothered, nor surprised.

"How are you, Teleute? How's your family?"

"I'm good. The family is... mostly the same. Del misses you."

You laughed lightly. "I miss her too. It's been a while since I've seen her."

You were both quiet for a moment as you stepped into a building, unseen. You stood back as Teleute performed her function, and then you were off again. You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to figure out how to bring up what you wished to discuss; you were so busy staring at the ground that you missed how her smile faltered at your pensive expression.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You lifted your blank gaze from the sidewalk, giving her a small smile. "I know. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to word it... You're aware of what happened to me a couple of centuries ago?"

Teleute's smile dimmed, but she nodded

"Well, ever since I escaped, I've had horrid nightmares. They've never really left me alone, ya know? That is... until bout a week and a half ago. I was in one of the nightmares that tend to reoccur the most frequently, and it was interrupted... by your little brother, Dream."

She seemed startled, but neither of you could speak for a moment as she collected and guided another soul to her realm. When she was done, you didn't give her much of a chance to actually respond, barreling through just to get it all out.

"He stopped the nightmare in its tracks even going so far as to undo the restraints and lending me his coat to cover up with. Here's what gets me though: after he introduced himself- and I provided a bit of information about myself since I recognized who he was by name- he promised that that particular nightmare wouldn't trouble me anymore and then ended it. But here's the real kicker; I woke up wearing his coat."

It was clear that Teleute was stunned, as she remained silent for a few minutes, likely thinking things over. "Has he bothered you about the coat?"

You shook your head. "I haven't heard from him since."

Teleute smiled. "Well, then it's more than likely you didn't drag it with you into the Waking; he meant for you to still have it on."

Your shoulders relaxed minutely at her assurance, but your eyebrows furrowed. "Why though?"

She waited until after guiding another soul to her realm before she answered, a teasing smile on her lips. "Maybe, he wants to see you again? Dream rarely enjoys interacting with others, but I wouldn't exactly be surprised if leaving his coat behind was simply an excuse to see you again."

You frowned slightly as you thought it over; everything Hob and Teleute had told you about the Dream Lord made the idea sound... accurate; you almost laughed, but it felt like you were missing something important. "So I should tell Hob to let him know I'd like to see him?"

She smiled wider. "If that's what you want. You don't have to seek him out, you know."

"I feel like if I don't seek him out, he'll seek me out. And... maybe I want to see him again too. Even if I would like to keep the coat; as I told Hob, it's very comfortable."

Teleute laughed and you smiled in return, continuing to walk with her for a little while longer, before splitting from her. When you were far enough away, you pulled out your phone and texted Hob, letting him know it was okay to tell the Dream Lord that you wanted to meet up.

A few days later, Hob finally texted you back with a time and a place- four o'clock at a park not far from your flat- to meet up with the Dream Lord. You bit your lip as you debated with yourself, staring into your closet. Something in you said to wear the coat to the meeting spot; you could always exchange it for something else when he showed up.

Mind made up after a few more minutes of internal debate, you slipped the dark coat over your navy blue blouse; you enjoyed how it was long enough to fall to your feet, covering your jean-covered legs as well. You didn't button it, but you did drape another coat- one of your own- over your arm. You did your best to tame your hair, which really wasn't all that difficult, and left your flat.

Upon arriving at the park, you noticed it was mostly empty; normally, this would unnerve or unsettle you, but not today. You started to stroll around the park as you waited for him to show, taking deep breaths of the cold air; polluted or not, it was better than stale air that tasted of blood.

Abruptly, you could feel eyes on you and you stopped, dropping the coat that had been in your arms. There was a presence at your back, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand at attention; it was powerful and would usually be terrifying, but you could recognize it. Then you heard his voice again.

"You accept my claim, then."

A shiver rolled down your spine at his voice, even as you frowned in confusion; what claim? Before you could respond, sand was whirling around you, blocking your vision. When you could see again, the Dream Lord was standing in front of you, unfathomably dark eyes staring into yours; you knew, without a doubt, that you weren't in the Waking anymore.

#hob gadling #death of the endless #mentioned dream of the endless #mentioned trauma #reader has anxiety #good friend hob gadling #good friend death of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader

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banancrumbs · 1 year

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Death and Dream in 1389!!

#my art #sandman #the sandman #death of the endless #dream of the endless #dream 1389 #death 1389 #morpheus #morpheus sandman #teleute sandman #teleute #im REALLY obsessed they look so good 😩😩😩😩#best endless <3 #also this was one of my first sketches from sandman but i took a fuckton of time to finish <3 #also shout out to my friend dante that did an art with the same idea but i dont remember if i saw hers first 😭#her @ is dantecoelhoart in twitter!#its a chainsaw man art tho!

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firemandeanbuck · 1 year

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Endless is a family of Gods, ney, they are BEYOND gods. Powerful and all capable. They live behind their fortified walls, where each of them has a palace of their own, connect by the common castle where they share affairs and work together. Like flower's petals.

Hob was raised on the legend of the Knights of Endless, the only mortals allowed freely in the palace, blessed with immortality by the Eldest Daughter, Death. He always imagined to be one of them. Destiny doesn't acquire one, Death is too busy, Dream is too broody, Destrutction is nowhere to he found, Delirium is too insane, only Despair and Desire have their knights, which they make sure to rub in everyone's face, ESPECIALLY Dream.

One day, Death and Dream were out, walking like Kings among the peasants. They made a bet, if Death makes a mortal immortal, and if they survived 3 centuries, they will have to be allowed into Dream's Realm.

3 centuries later, Hob stood in front of the Dreaming, brought there by Death.

Grudgingly, Dream permits the man. But keeps him away from himself and many parts of the palace. It's a sacred place for Dream. The human can't possibly understand.

Soon, he finds himself falling for him. The way he looks with wonder in his eyes awe struck by the Dreaming, he had adjusted well with his Dreams, Jess and Mathew approve of him. He asks and explores, fearless- sometimes reckless even.

He taught Dream alot, humility and love, above all. The amazement at which he looks at life with inspires Dream so much more than words can say. He questions Dream and his desicions, he advices and corrects.

Yet, he himself learns, he is not perfect, he makes mistakes and trips more often than not. But he never stays down, he always gets up and face the consequences and tries to correct it.

For the first time in over 300,000 years, Dream dares to Hope. Hope to love and cherish this man.

Dream leads to a room in his palace. On he had never showed or even mentioned. It was a glass room, with too many mirrors. A sword floats still in the middle of it. It's black and sharply edged. It's elegant and an incredibly powered piece of prefection.

Hob doesn't dare to touch it. He believes it he does, he will break it. But the sword itself responds to Hob, it's rightful owner. He is strong and graceful, long-lasting and well-versed in Dreams moods and his language.

Dream let himself to be at the mercy of this man whatever he wants. He knows he is safe with him, he spent 200 years with him, trying to stay away but was inevitably attracted to him. He was safe, when he goes to bed with Hob, he knows nothing in the world can harm him. Those arms protect him like no other

#dream #dreamling #morpheus #sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #death of the endless #the endless #desire #destiny #delirium #despair #destruction #all of the fam #hob and death are good friends coz i said so #i love them

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drsunnshine · 8 months

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Just finished rewatching an episode of sandman and getting back into assassins creed and it got me thinking of something.

What would happen if Desmond met any one of the endless (endlesses?)? But also when would this take place? After he died and he just got yeeted to the DC universe or should they just exist in his universe?

Any would probably do but honestly the reaction he could have to meeting them can be both hilarious and angsty at the same time. I’ve mostly thought of it as him going to the DC universe though so that’s what I’m doing.

This leads me to what I first thought when I started thinking which was, Hob and Desmond friendship when? They can talk about their times in different centuries (or in Desmond’s case his ancestors), and just have someone to talk to about their history and experiences. Let the two humans who have experienced history hangout and bond with someone who can get it. This has great friendship material and I want them to figure out the difference between their respective histories with the Templars and Assassins and where they aren’t involved with anymore. Imagine Desmond just sometimes hangs out with him either before or after Hob’s class for the day and people just think he’s a friend or a student of his.

Also Dream and Desmond friendship because they both need more friends in their life. Same thing with Hob in the fact they have both been through something similar with the kidnapping. One is probably worse than the other but Dream is immortal and was separated from his kingdom and lost his tools for years. Desmond was used to by Abstergo and later the assassins and the isu during his kidnapping. Both suffered a lot with Dream coming back to his kingdom and it being abandoned and in ruins while having his tools he needs being gone and having to deal with getting all his subjects back home and deal with the vortex problem, and Desmond having his head fucked with the memories of his ancestors and the bleeding effect and ultimately dying. Please just let them trauma bond. Maybe tiny romance or something cause I can’t see Hob with Desmond that much and I really don’t think he would really get along that well with some of the other endlesses (cough desire cough)

Shout out to Death, best sister and would probably figure out his death and apparent resurrection and handle it with stride. I can see her seeing him a couple of times for a chat. I could see their first conversation being her telling him not to see her again so soon after being brought back and Desmond being all ??? He’d probably meet her first honestly cause there is no way death is not there for his sudden death and resurrection in that world. A dead man who didn’t even exist until that moment just rising from the dead would definitely get her attention. I feel like she would introduce him to the others or maybe just Dream.

A thought just hit me regarding Death and Dream. If he gets sent there before Dreams escape she could see if he can check on him for her since he’s been missing. This likely doesn’t happen immediately but I think she would ask it as something she would appreciate but that he didn’t have to do. I could see this being how Desmond meets Dream and how they start a friendship of sorts and later down the line, if you want, a relationship between the two. Dream would probably think he wants something from him and just tries find out while Desmond is just here rolling with the punches. This could lead to them working together in finding Dreams tools or Desmond getting random meetings with Dream as he tries to find out his motives for saving him as “there is no way he saved me just because my sister asked nicely, he must be planning something”

Idk random thoughts and all that jazz. I go to bed now

#desmond miles #assassin's creed #dream of the endless #hob gadling #death of the endless #the sandman #hob and desmond friendship when???#let desmond have good relations with the endless #I will likely forget this #fuck you give the boys more friends like them #imagine walking into your professor’s class and seeing some dude talking to him like they’ve known each other their whole lives #turns out they’ve only known each other for not even a week #I sleep now

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onyxbird · 11 months

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Mr. Sandman, Ring Me a Dream

Summary: Death decides that a phone will help her little brother stay more connected to human friends. (Or “friend,” singular, for the moment.) Not to worry, she's taken care of all of the setup, right down to the ringtone. Just give this number to Hob and put it in your pocket. Please, little brother. For me.

Dream should have known to ask more questions…

Read on AO3

Ch. 1: “Turn on Your Magic Beam”

“Just try it for a bit,” said his sister. “You don't have to do anything but put it in your pocket and answer it if it rings.”

“I have no need for a telephone, mobile or otherwise,” said Dream. “Hob and I have remained in contact for centuries without any such thing.”

Death raised an eyebrow. “You see one another once a century by appointment, and you missed the last one. I'm just saying the humans have invented all sorts of communication devices, and you should try being a little more reachable. You might like it.”

Dream refrained from actually rolling his eyes, but Death seemed to get the point.

“Look, I've completely set it up for you. It's got Hob's number in it.” She punched the green phone handset button, “Contacts,” and the solitary entry labeled “Hob Gadling” with exaggerated slowness, the phone flourished in front of his withering gaze so that he couldn't avoid seeing the process. “I even set a ringtone for you! All you have to do is give him this string of numbers. He'll know what to do.”

Dream did not dignify that with a response.

“Come on, little brother. Give it a fair chance. For me.” She paused until his disdainful expression cracked, and she smirked in victory. “If you hate it, you can always go back to your once-a-century meeting and no harm done, right?”

Dream begrudgingly slid the glossy black rectangle into his pocket. Human innovations were often far from “no harm done” in his opinion, but fine, if his sister believed this one was harmless, he supposed he could humor her.

He dropped by to find Hob, crossly shoved the piece of paper with numbers at him, muttering that his sister had insisted on getting him a phone, and promptly forgot about it.

…

James' back hit the wall behind him, starting to question whether buying the tiny ziploc baggie of allegedly “magical” powder had been a mistake.

He'd mostly bought it as a joke, anyway. The seller had put on a surprisingly convincing song and dance to “prove” that the sand was magical rather than just gray sand, but really. Magic sand? Besides, if it were as special as he claimed, the price would surely have been higher.

Still, if the sand was fake, the salesman was an excellent illusionist, and the entertainment value alone had been worth the small price being charged.

…At least it had been until this goth beanstalk showed up, trailed by a raven, of all things. James had initially brushed that off, too. When you hung around in circles where someone was likely to sell you “magic dream sand,” you encountered a lot of odd people.

This one was persistent—James couldn't seem shake him—and his initial blunt pushiness had edged over into scary.

James tried to tune back into what he was saying. Maybe he should just—

An incongruously cheerful tune derailed his train of thought.

“Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom. “Bom bom bom bom bom.”

The apparition did not react or change expression as the a capella harmony continued.

“Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream! Make him the cutest that I've ever seen.”

The apparition's eyebrows knitted together. He glanced around, as if looking for the source of the sound. He pivoted slowly in a complete circle, peering in all directions, as the song continued to play.

The raven cocked its head quizzically. “That coming from you, boss?”

(Great. A talking bird, as if this wasn't weird enough.)

“What do you mean 'is it coming from me?' Why would it?”

Words spilled out of James' mouth before he could think better of it. “…Is it your phone?”

He regretted speaking as soon as the apparition's attention snapped back onto him.

“I do not have a phone.”

“Uhh… actually…” said the raven.

The pale brow furrowed. “Oh. That's right.” He started patting his sides as if trying to locate something in his pockets. He fished out a black rectangle just as the music abruptly cut off, midway through the “Mr. Sandman” leading into the second verse.

He stared blankly at the it.

“I think you missed the call?” offered James.

There was silence for a moment. “It says 'Missed Call,'” the apparition confirmed. “'Hob.' There's a little picture of his face.”

“Yeah, you missed it, then. Maybe they'll leave a voicemail?”

The apparition scrutinized him. “A… 'voicemail'?”

James floundered. “Yeah. You know, record a message for you?”

Based on the apparition's expression, he did not know.

“Or you could just call 'em back?”

The apparition frowned at the phone again. “I… do not know how to do that.”

“There's—There should be a button.” He reached towards the phone automatically, starting to feel like he was talking to his Gran rather than a seemingly supernatural entity trying to mug him for dubiously magical sand. “Can I see? Yeah, right there—if you click on that, it should call them back.”

A long pale finger carefully poked at the spot James had indicated, before raising the phone to his ear.

There was a pause.

“Ah, this one rings like a bell, not music. That's what I thought they were supposed to do.”

“Uh… Well, that's what it does on your end while it's waiting for the other person to pick up. Might be music on their end, though.”

“Oh.”

“Hob,” declared the apparition. He paused. “Yes. I retrieved my phone, but you were no longer there.” He frowned. “Yes, I was busy. I still am. …This human said that otherwise you might send me mail, and I do not receive letters in the Dreaming. …I am not certain I know how to do that. …Very well. Thirty minutes hence.”

He frowned at the phone for another long moment, before looking back at James. “Do I have to turn it off?”

“Uh… I think the other guy probably hung up on his end, so…” He craned for a glimpse at the screen. “No, you don't have to do anything. The call already disconnected.”

The apparition carefully slid the phone back into a pocket, and clasped his hands behind his back. “I thank you for your assistance,” he said solemnly. “Now, there is still the issue of the dream sand, which you may not keep.”

Ch. 2 on AO3

#dream of the endless #death of the endless #rose walker #the sandman #mr. sandman #death loves her ridiculous little brother and wants him to be happy #(but also thinks some sibling pranks will do him good)#tech support to friends pipeline #onyxbird fanfic

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strideofpride · 8 months

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Okay I’ve made it to the end of the Alex/Izzie romance (minus the whole him infamously leaving to be with her in s16) and now I can confidently say that if you think Alex deserved better than Izzie instead of vice versa, you might just hate women.

#Alex really has the audacity to call himself a good man because of Izzie’s cancer???#I’m sorry is this not the same man who decided to freeze embryos and get married without discussing it with Izzie at all??#is this the same man who got all pissy cause Izzie was grieving the tragic death of her best friend???#like idk my takeaway from the cancer arc was not ‘wow Alex is really stepping up’#it was wow ‘alex and Izzie are so scared of her dying they’re making endless stupid decisions’#anti alex karev #s watches greys

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iprefertheterminsane · 2 years

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Sound of Her Wings arguably the best ep bc u will get the first portion of Dream whining to his big sis, the tear jerking interpretation of Death, and the slow burn sexual tension between a him and some dude he decides to keep around since 800 years ago :)

#the sandman #death of the endless #dream of the endless #Hobs Gadling #or as the twt peeps call him Gaydling #hes such a sopping wet cat pathetic scrunjly meow meow of an anthropormorphic personification if an abstract concept of humanity #hes my best friend hes my pal my rotten soldier my sweet cheese my good time boy

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musicalchaos07 · 11 months

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A second WIP on this Wednesday

#*taps mic* 2006! Jonathan is a Death Cab stan #*taps mic again* MR SON IS PRETENTIOUS IN ANY DECADE #anyways my weird little Alt kids are gonna be SUCH good friends #stranger things #jonathan byers #robin buckley #is there a name for them #like byley or something???#Ronathan???#Jobin????#<- under utilized alt kid duo????#Argyle #wip wednesday #Endless Summer AU

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waitidontgetit · 1 year

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Thinking about hob and Death and the strange companionship they could have. How every time he’s supposed to die she’s there, a constant in his world of change. She’s doesn’t take him,no, a bargain was struck. But comes to him anyway as the curious man who is on the verge of death so often, the vibrant life that must fall in his every look his every gasping, starving, bleeding, pleading existence, it sinks into the world around him. I imagine he’s like a dawn to Death everytime he nearly dies, she knows better than anyone the deep value of the world and living in it, but hob can tell her how it feels in all it’s jubilance, and woes and fears. And it’s different each time but no less beautiful. When he’s at his worst and thinks please god let it end it doesn’t, it never ends, and she is there to watch it begin.

#in the beginning #he thinks he’s hallucinating #then that god has sent an angel #but he gets there eventually and understands that the only comfort in death is Death #I think that they could be good friends #death of the endless #hob gadling

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kingmaximusboltagon · 1 year

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i know i rag on death of the inhumans alot but like. it was clearly made bc the abc show didn't do well, but triton and maximus are the ONLY TWO that appear in the show that get killed off?? triton, who was in like two episodes and got maybe twenty minutes of screentime? maximus, who is arguably one of the better liked parts of the entire thing?? why didn't they choose like... crystal and karnak. why would they go with the two that did practically nothing to contribute to the show being disliked??

#like damn. what did naja and flagman even do.#they couldnt even go through with lockjaw and crystal!!#its DEATH OF THE INHUMANS! at least COMMIT to it!!#its so obvious they just picked the two 'least important' members of the family so they could kill some off #while not having to actually kill anybody important #bc that would require actually thinking about the writing and putting real emotional impact in #i have endless complaints about it forever #and like!! triton and maximus were going through really good development too!!!#triton having to deal with thinking of himself as a traitor and criminal bc he made a bad decision while trying to help #maximus stepping in to save his family and making actual friends and finally reaching a place where he can be happy #they had things GOING!!! and it wss just all thrown away????#aaaghhhhh!!!! i miss them!!!!#inhumans #triton mander azur #maximus boltagon

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limewatt · 11 months

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I read the northern caves cause someone in the tags of the post about an unauthorized fan treatise said it was somewhat similar and Man. Gonna be thinking about that for a while

#spoilers in the tags #like huge last 3 chapters change the rest of the story spoilers #INSANEEEE #MUNDUM AND THE WHOLE BLEAK ENDLESS WORLD?????#the bathroom tryst is insane. and then later the dialoge only chapter and ‘[…]’ i’m insane about the ‘[…]’s like dude.#That’s what you choose to omit? what happened to telling the story straight?#well. i guess that part of the story isn’t very straight lmao #local guy who drugged his friends; taken up a cultish ideology; and may or may not have caused the death of 3 people discovers bisexualiity #my god.#i really like the backframing of the entire thing being a curated companion document to a goddamn fanlore podcast #maybe it’s just cause i’m so used to reading stories that don’t end or ones with anticlimaxes #but i like the ending. i so desperately want to know what paul was thinking about ch 25.#like. […] is just [gay shit] right. thats how i read it. insannnnneeeeee #my god i have so many thoughts #i just think ‘good afternoon good evening and goodnight’ endings are good. the denial to let the audience hear satisfying last words.#show’s over #ITS THE END OF THE LINE MY FRIEND #also i think it’s true to its format of early aughts fandom drama. it’s fucked up and then it’s over #and some dickhead nerds who think they’re better than all the other dickhead nerds talk aboit it on a podcast #auuuuueeeueueehuuueuuuuuuueueuuue AUGH. THINKING ABT IT SO MCUH

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gojossocks · 4 months

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Anything For You

Sukuna x Reader genre: fluff, hurt/comfort summary: After a thousand years, Sukuna never thought that he'd find you again. Only this time, your goals have changed and you weren't the person he can rule the world with anymore. Would he give that up just for you? wc: 2.7K content: friends to lovers, lovesick sukuna, kinda ooc sukuna because of how lovesick he is, mutual pining. they were in a situationship for a thousand years, can you guys handle that?

“Sukuna, don’t you feel alone in the past thousand years? I mean, all you’ve wanted is to gain power and do other villain-y things. It’s pretty lame and sad in my opinion.” Yuuji, his vessel, says mindlessly as he chews on his food while he waits for Megumi and Nobara.

“You insolent fool.” He sneered, a mouth forming on Yuuji’s cheeks. “I don’t mope around like you do. I was not alone either.”

Contrary to popular belief, Sukuna wasn’t heartless as most people paint him out to be. In fact, during the Heian Era, Sukuna is always seen to be with a powerful sorcerer.

There was you. The only person he sees as his equal.

But after you were killed, your history with Sukuna was quickly forgetten as the men write history in their own perspective. You are a significant figure in history, yes– but you and Sukuna together were only briefly mentioned in the books.

People have forgotten about how Sukuna, the King of Curses, have ruled the Jujutsu World with you by his side.

In the bygone days of the Heian Period, You and Sukuna have a unique bond as you two had grown up together. You were the only one who witnessed how he rises up to be the King of Curses. You were a powerful sorcerer too in your own way, despite the lack of title. Your benevolent nature has gotten a lot of people to respect you. People were not intimidated by your power but by your wisdom.

Despite your personality which is in contrast to Sukuna’s, it never became a hindrance between your bond. In fact, he seemed to like you more because of it. You taught him how to kill and destroy with purpose. and together, the two of you wreaked havoc on Earth.

You were the first and last person who knows him inside and out, not even Uraume could compare. He even prefers your shitty cooking, for god’s sake. He feels weak in your presence. Sukuna kind of resents you for it, how you make him feel. How he’s willing to burn the entire world at your command. He’d kill anyone without batting an eye if you ask him to. You have him wrapped around your pretty fingers and you don’t even know it.

He remembers going into the gardens of your shared home after a battle and you’d welcome him with open arms, hugging him with your little frame. You didn’t care about the blood on his clothes or how he reeks of death. You look at him with such kindness, as if he has done nothing wrong in this world. You held his hands with such gentleness, as if he has hasn’t covered his hands with so much blood. And you smile and crack jokes around him after terrorizing villages, you wrap bandages around his wounds even if he can heal it in a heartbeat. He loves being doted on by you.

He was really good at keeping his emotions to himself unlike you who’d outwardly show how much you love him. He had a feeling that you knew of his affections slightly. After all, you were the only one allowed to touch Sukuna, to tease him and be alive after that. He chose not to tell you his feelings because he thought that he’d have all the time in the world to tell you.

Well, he thought he did until he received the news that you were killed.

Sukuna didn’t look at your corpse, refusing that seeing your cold lifeless body would be his last memory of you. After that was just endless rampage of destruction. In his mind, it was his way of avenging you. People have forgotten about you because of the amount of lives he had taken— his crimes outweighed any humanity he had left of him.

It goes like that until he was defeated and sealed. Well, that was years ago but even now, all he thinks about is you. So much that he could still hear your laugh.

“Really?” Yuuji exclaimed. “I think I should ask Gojo-sensei about—”

Yuuji’s rambling was cut off with a sound of laughter, which causes both him and the demon inside him to look where that voice comes from.

That all too familiar voice that even after countless lifetimes, he would still recognize anywhere. Sukuna felt like his entire world stopped when he sees where that voice comes from. Everything seemed to blur as his entire attention is fixated on the woman.

It was you, in the flesh.

Or rather, someone who is an exact copy of you.

He had found you! You had reincarnated as he hoped you would. You kept your promise and you’d see him again.

You were walking and conversing beside Gojo Satoru as you approach Yuuji who stood up straight and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Who might this be?” You gave the kid a playful smile.

Sukuna was able to examine you up close as you walked closer to Yuuji. You were as beautiful as the day he lost you. You fit right into this modern period— you’re wearing a uniform similar to Gojo’s, but instead of pants, you were wearing a skirt and knee high boots. If someone were to tell Sukuna that he’d find you like this, fighting against him, he would have howled in laughter before killing that someone.

“Yuuji Itadori, miss!” the young sorcerer said, exuding a bit too much enthusiasm.

“So he is the vessel.” You acknowledged with a nod before sharing a look with Gojo Satoru.

“This is Y/N Y/L/N! She’s a special grade sorcerer from Kyoto but will be transferring here to accommodate you. She doesn’t go to missions anymore just like I do so Y/N would be there whenever you need her.” Gojo explains, putting a hand on you and Yuuji’s shoulders.

Yuuji’s eyes widened as he registered the significance of your name “Like the one in history books Y/N Y/L/N?”

“I wish.” You quipped, inserting a playful note in your response. “It was nice meeting you. I’ve waited for you, you know.” Then you extended your hand toward Yuuji and as your fingers met his, Sukuna could feel the familiarity of your touch. You looked at Yuuji with so much intensity, as if you’re looking at the curse residing in him. Right at Sukuna. and he didn’t fail to notice the way your smile was gentler compared to the ones you’ve given the kid.

It was for him.

You’ve seen him.

“Well,” You let out a sigh when you’ve pulled away. “I better get going. I’m sorry to cut this short, Yuuji. I hope we’ll get to know more of each other. I heard you like rice bowls, I’ll treat you to my favorite restaurant in tokyo next week, yeah?” You pat the top of his head and Yuuji gives you a huge grin.

Once you’ve left, Yuuji could finally notice Sukuna’s silence. He had been silent ever since you’ve arrived and Yuuji was about to tease him for it until Gojo spoke up.

“It’s her if she wasn’t being obvious enough.”

-.-

In the week following his unexpected encounter with you, Sukuna’s demeanor underwent a subtle transformation. He was less mean to Yuuji and the snarky remarks had lessened.

True to your promise, you spent time with Yuuji, fulfilling your role as a companion and mentor. However, your newfound indifference towards Sukuna fueled a frustration that within him. Did he merely imagine the spark of recognition in your eyes? Was it truly still you?

He found out a lot about you during the time you spent with Yuuji as well as the information that Gojo discloses concerning you. It seems as though you have helped the Jujutsu World slowly gain back its glory just like back in the golden days. You’re a teacher too, and from what Gojo has mentioned, you’re still the same patient and kind person he fell in love with.

Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy at the mention of how you’re close with the white-haired sorcerer. He finds himself scoffing at the thought of you finally replacing him. It isn’t far from reality, you’re too likable for your own good anyway. You make it so easy to love you that Sukuna failed to notice that this disease has swallowed him whole and now he’s stuck, absolutely pining for you like an idiot. How dare you move on from him if that’s the case?

He needed answers from you or else he’d go crazy. So he finds out where you live and he found out that you were living in the more peaceful side of Tokyo. It took him a while to get in control again and the moment he did, his feet carried him to you.

Your house is beautiful, it looked like the mini version of the place that you once shared with Sukuna. He entered it quietly and to his surprise, you were no where to be found but then he catches a glimpse of you in the window overlooking the garden.

Sukuna finds himself smiling as he reaches the garden. It had a variety of flowers and plants, the very ones you had planted with him years ago. You’re wearing a beautiful red plaid sundress and the modern age never looked so good in anyone but you.

You were simply ethereal.

You were too engrossed in watering your plants when he walks towards you.

“Old habits hard for you, Y/N.” Sukuna spoke up, his voice devoid of any usual domineering tone that he uses to other humans.

You turned to him, wide eyed. It was the first time you’ve seen him in ages. Sukuna’s still in the body of the young sorcerer that you frequently saw the past week but he looked like him—with his tattoos and demeanor. Your eyes are soon filled with tears and you shakily reached for him, engulfing him in a tight embrace.

“Finally.” You choked out, burying your face to his chest. Sukuna carefully snakes his hands towards your back on instinct. “It’s been so long. it was all worth it. I knew you’d come back.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head. Sukuna’s voice turned hoarse as he spoke. “I thought you were killed I-”

“I’m already here, Ryo.” You interrupted, pulling away to cup his cheek gently. Sukuna leaned in to the warmth of your touch, melting in an instant. “ I wasn’t. I was just sealed until I was let out by one of my dearest friends. I came to find you but you were already gone, so I waited.”

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

“You were asleep for almost a thousand years. I was alive for most of it, clearly I missed you more.”

“Well, I thought you were dead. Cut me some slack, doll.” Sukuna teased with a smirk. You bite your lip to stifle your smile, playfully nodding inagreement.

“Come with me.” He murmured, pulling away to press his lips against your forehead. “After I kill this brat, I can take control and we can finally change the world.”

“By killing everyone in it?” You shakily asked. Sukuna thought that you were just shaken because of how glad you are to have him back.

He gave you a smirk. “Well, that was my idea. You know how I am.”

“Times have changed, Ryo. I’m afraid that it has softened me. I’m not the person you used to imagine burning the world down with anymore.” You calmly admitted, meeting Sukuna’s intense gaze and you tried to calm him down by tracing circles on his arm but he didn’t look convinced in the slightest.

“I’m here now. You could drop your act. I can protect you now, you know.”

“You don’t understand, dear.” you interjected, gently pushing a strand away from his face. “We have different objectives now. You seek to take over the world and be feared forever. I seek to live out my days in peace until I decide to end it.”

You must’ve noticed how Sukuna’s expression dropped at your words so you quickly clarified. “oh no, but don’t think I’d end my life after our interaction. In fact, I’ll live for a few more years until it will bore me to death. Literally. But there’s just so much to love and to do in this world, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t you want to be with me? Have you grown tired of me?” He demanded, his voice getting louder as he continues to talk. You weren’t fazed in the slightest and it aggravates him even further. It used to comfort him, that you know him so well, but now the butterflies in his stomach makes him anxious more than anything else.

You have always had the upper hand and he feels you cursing him the more you grant him your presence.

He feels disregarded as you implicitly rejected him.

“No.” You offered him a sweet smile, your eyes never leaving his. Sukuna thinks he might float with the way you’re looking at him right and his breath hitched once he hears you say the next words. “I love you, Ryo. In fact, I love you enough to know of your nature and I would be the last person who would stop you in achieving what you want. I wouldn’t be in your way but I couldn’t stay by your side anymore.”

Sukuna searched for a hint that indicates that you were lying and he found none. You had always been honest with him. He looks at you with a heartbroken expression but still trying to maintain his stoic face. He’s clearly hurt “Did our past mean nothing to you?”

“I’ve done everything I could, Ryo. I’ve done everything for you. You know I did that all for you. Wasn’t that enough? Didn’t you feel my love for you in the slightest? You could kill me now, if you want. It’d be a pleasure to die by your hand.” Your eyes are once again brimmed with tears again yet you continued to smile as you trail your fingers over his cheek “I’m sorry but I’m tired of seeing red. Gojo must’ve told what I did, you must know my change of heart.”

He did.

Of course he did.

He knew of what you did yet he still held on to the fact that he might be wrong. So is this really how it ends? Sukuna enjoys destruction and killing. He loves being in power and he will not admit that if you weren’t alive, he’s probably murdering civillians in Shibuya right now. But after he’d gain control over Yuuji Itadori’s body, the only thing that he keeps thinking of is coming home to you.

And what would the point be if you are not by his side?

“Then I’ll stay with you.” He declared.

A scoff escapes your lips and your bewildered expression makes him smirk even more. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ll just finish this and I’ll come back to you. None of this matters anymore. I’ll abandon all of it. For you.”

You looked at him incredulously, your mouth agape. Sukuna wastes no time to finally pull you in a kiss.

It was a gentle one at first and he pulls away slightly to see you pout, eliciting a chuckle from him, only to pull you back to a deeper, passionate kiss. Sukuna smiles into the kiss as a soft gasp escapes from you.

He kisses you fervently, as if he needs your air to breathe. And as you run your hand through his hair, moaning to the kiss, he pulls you impossibly closer.

He’s home.

He returned to you 3 months later, in his original form. He entered your house with wounds and bruises, his body covered in blood once more. It was just like before, but this time, it feels so different. He had a soft look in his eyes and he feels like he’s floating on air now that he’s gone home to you.

Just like before, you welcomed him with open arms. He lifted you and spinned you around, eliciting a squeal from you. When he puts you down, you peppered kisses to his face and hugged him really tight.

“I love you.” Sukuna whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you gently. You smiled at his confession. There was a look in your eyes that you knew it all along.

“It took you a millennium to say that.”

wanna read more?

a/n: i bet he still murders in his free time after being retired 😻

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna hurt/comfort #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader angst

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communistchilchuck · 26 days

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Sujood has reached out to me to boost she and Sanaa’s fundraiser. They’re urgently trying to evacuate their family from Gaza and seek asylum in Belgium. Their previous campaign was suspended, so they have started a new GFM and currently have £1,642 out of their £50,000 goal! Please share if you can’t donate!

From their GFM page:

Dear friends,

We are reaching out to you with a heartfelt plea for help. Our names are Sanaa and Sujood, and we find ourselves in an incredibly challenging and dangerous situation.

Unfortunately, our previous attempt to receive donations was unsuccessful due to restrictions on transactions to Gaza. However, the urgency of our circumstances compels us to reach out again, this time with new procedures in place to ensure the secure delivery of your generous contributions. We are launching a new campaign because we cannot afford to wait for a long time for the restrictions on the bank account to be lifted it’s already being two months now. We are unsure if we will be able to access the funds or if they will be returned to the donors. In any case, here in Gaza, we are fighting against time. Every day poses a threat to our safety, and we cannot afford to wait. If, after some time, we are able to retrieve the previous amount, we will use it to rebuild our lives and continue the education of my siblings.

The situation in Gaza has become increasingly unbearable, and we have been left with no choice but to seek assistance from compassionate individuals like you. Your donations can make a significant difference in our lives and help us escape the dire circumstances we currently face.

This is ours story:

I hope this message finds you in good health and spirits.

My name is Sanaa Odeh, currently in Gaza, occupied Palestine. I am writing this as a plea for survival, for a future for my family and myself.

Our lives are in immediate danger, with non stop explosions everyday and every night, tanks and guns all around us, and fear as a constant companion. It is a non-stop nightmare, every minute of every day, for 6 months. Everyday is a struggle for survival. Lack of food and clean water creating a crisis of death by starvation and dehydration.

Despite the endless nightmare, we are a resilient and strong family. My beautiful parents gave everything to raise us as successful daughters and we are so proud of what we have achieved.

I work as a graphic designer and my sisters: a nurse/educator, small business owner, a medical student, and a field coordinator. Despite being on the path to rich and promising futures, it can all be taken away in any moment. We have already lost several family members, including my uncles and their entire family. There is little hope that the situation will end soon, all of us waiting for our turn next.

We are looking to seek asylum in Belgium. This campaign will help support us in covering the costs to do so, specifically in covering the evacuation costs per person. Your donation will provide us with the chance to escape the endless horror we’ve been facing for the last 6 months and give us a chance to return to a safe, normal life again, where we can once again contribute positively to society.

I understand that this is a challenging time for everyone right now, but please do not underestimate what even £5 can contribute to especially when it all adds up. It really does make a huge difference. No matter how small the contribution it can still change our entire lives.

Thank you for taking the time to read our story, your support means the world to us. Whether it is simply sharing our campaign or donating, it makes all the difference in the world to us. Your act of kindness can bring light to our darkest days and help us build a better future.

Thank you once again for all your support and kindness

With heartfelt gratitude,

Sanaa and Sujood

#palestine #free palestine #gaza

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evilminji · 3 months

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What is "A God" and does the King of the Infinite Every Between count?

The great and endless "slipped between the cracks" of everything and all things? The souls of those Death has Taken but no God can Claim? THAT King?

Is he... A GOD.

I mean... probably not? He's a Halfa. Little hungry, right now. And very, VERY powerful. Can absolutely kick their asses. But "God"? He'd honestly have to throw that one to his advisors to go look up.

Like? If we're talking Title? Maybe. There are definitely people who worship him. He wi-( ......*cough* HI Desiree, nice to see ya.) Would LIKE, people to stop? But he can't TELL them too. That's THEIR choice. They get to make it. But if we're talking the SPECIES or BEING known to you as "God"?

Nope.

He's definitely not.

But then again? There are a LOT of Beings out there, that serve that particular Role, that aren't "Gods". Does that make their work somehow less precious? Their worshipers Faith, less genuine? It's just a position, dude. Divine management.

The great and glorified Housekeeping of Creation.

In HIS experience? A whole lot like babysitting.

Though... now that he thinks about it? WHY? Why DO you want to know? If he is or is NOT a God? Furthermore, how the HECK did you even GET this "number"? This is the Zone! Did you intentionally "@Anybody"?! Kid! Kiddo, what the actual FUCK! That was SO DANGEROUS holy shit!!! (Is this karma? This feels like karma. Is this what HE was like as a kid?? No WONDER Jazz always looked so stressed)

I could have been ANYBODY!

And? A mulish AF Percy Jackson and his crowd of friends? Just stare back up in that "I DO NOT Repent And Would DO IT AGAIN BUT WITH MORE FIRE" way only highly hormonal and deeply feral teenagers can? Just >:( ×15

Danny, the only adult here, is Concerned(tm).

They? Demand he Adopt's them. They need a BETTER Divine Parent who will ACTUALLY take care of them. And according to the qualifications they carved into the REALLY smashed together, Neo-Archaic, Call Summon Boulder they collectively carved? HE has all the "Good Parent" Qualifications they want.

So congratulations!

IT'S A CROWD.

No they aren't asking. You are Dad now, FATHER. Now come and protect your adopted offspring! And give out hugs and praise! Also we made a list! And-!

*proceeds to try and menace the literal Ruler of The Infinte Zone in a crackling squeaky voice*

And like? Well, shit. Guess he's a Dad now. They're clearly too powerful to fight. Such devastating cases being made. Oh woe, he is powerless before them etc etc.

MAN, you all are tiny!

Who wants fudge?

@hdgnj @hypewinter @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

#Camp All My Kids AU #DPxPJ #dpxpj prompt #minji's writing

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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years

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You don't think matcha is tea????

Matcha isn't a Tea in my humble Opinion.

Matcha is an experience.

The year is 2009, the place is the University of Hawai'i at Manoa in Honolulu, and I am recovering from a still-undiagnosed disease that left me with a 100+ degree for over three weeks, extreme weight loss and permanent Brain Damage. I have signed up for an introductory Art History class because I need an additional Humanities credit.

It's called "The History and Philosophy of the Japanese Tea Ceremony", and for a class I can only sort of remember, it stands out.

So I'm in professor Roberts' Japanese Tea Ceremony class, looking and feeling like death warmed over, but I'm genuinely interested in the subject matter and show up to every class because I have nothing better to do, and ask questions and turn in my homework, even if neither are particularly coherent at times, and rapidly become his favorite student. The thing I learned in public school was how to show up to events even if I don't want to, analyze tests and other written materials for patterns and charm educators by holding up my end of a conversation, skills that have served me in the modern world far more than learning actual course content would have.

The Tea Ceremony, historically, takes a good month to prepare and the entire evening to carry out- the guest list is curated to create social bonds and intellectual stimulation alike, a poem is composed for the season, and a seasonal flower arrangement created to decorate the space. When the guests arrive, they must all crawl through a small door to enter the tea garden, regardless of profession or rank. Hands are ritually washed in spring water, and there is a slow processional walk through the garden, to admire the artistry of the landscaping, and the composition of seasonal elements to create this particular night of beauty. The entire ceremony is about appreciating both the joy of existing right now, in this time and place, and the unification of the self and the universe and the endless cycles of nature.

The guests arrive at the tea house and meet the Tea Master, who will be making the Matcha that evening. The guests are seated in particular order, the Most Revered Guest- sometimes a high-ranking official, sometimes a visiting scholar or artist- is seated closest to the Tea Master. The Poem is read aloud. The Flowers are admired. The tools for making the Matcha are taken out, examined as objects of art, and their history told. The matcha powder itself is taken out- the case examined, the cultivation of the tea discussed, and only then does the Tea Master make the Tea.

Matcha is not brewed- it's a fine powder made of crushed green tea leaves, and the powder is whisked together with not-quite-boiling water in a bowl to create a much more substantial and flavorful drink. This drink is presented to the Most Revered Guest first, who is expected to take a sip and, in a moment of Zen spiritual clarity, comment on its flavor and how all the elements of the tea, art, garden and season all complement each other, and perhaps offer some sort of philosophical statement.

At least,

That's how it's supposed to go.

About a month before the spring semester is over, Professor Roberts announces that he has a surprise for his class- a good friend of his, a Professional Tea Master, will be visiting Hawai'i, and has agreed to perform a Tea Ceremony for our class! I am very excited. The other 10 people in class are varying levels of amiably confused to distressed by having to go to An Event (TM) for a grade, but agree. One of my classmates, an astrology hoe named Jessica, pointed out that with the 11 students, Professor Roberts, and the Tea Master, there will be 13 people present, which is basically inviting disaster.

"Jessica." Sighed Professor Roberts. "It's a Tea Ceremony. What disaster could happen?"

Despite Jessica's misgivings, Preparations for the ceremony went on. We learned about Ikebana while deciding on the Ceremonial Bouquet and tried our hands at it with what Professor Robert could get at the grocery store for $12. We learned about calligraphy and different types of poetic compositions while making the Seasonal Poem, and stain the hell out of the classroom carpet learning the brush strokes. We learn about different types of Matcha Bowl sculpting and glazing and we are not allowed to touch the demonstration bowls or the kiln because Professor Roberts was beginning to suspect that some of his students (me) were suffering from coordination issues. I apply myself with zeal, if not necessarily talent. I was, at the time, an Art Major, but my professors in the art department had been grading me on a secret "this bitch almost died last semester and is re-learning how to hold a pencil" curve, and boy howdy did I stumble and break leaves and splatter ink like it.

Despite my ongoing unmonitored recovery, Professor Roberts viewed my enthusiastic class participation with rose-colored glasses, and about a week before the ceremony we had a class where he brought out the used Kimonos and Obi and other forms of japanese dress he'd borrowed from the theater department so that we would be traditionally dressed(ish) and experience the ceremony authentically(ish). While people were trying on clothes to see what would fit, he took me aside and told me he wanted me to be in the position of Most Revered Guest, the person who makes the zen statement upon which the entire event hinges.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked.

"You're the only person who doesn't fall asleep in class and you talked about how the flowers stagger their blooms to not compete for the bees- you're perfectly engaged and conscious of the seasons!" He said, blindly. "You will need different shoes though." He indicated my flip-flops. "I won't make you learn how to walk in Geta, but nothing with Heels. Ballet flats are fine."

"...These are the only shoes I own." I said.

Professor Roberts stared at me.

"-I used to have a pair of sneakers but I think a homeless guy stole them while I was at the beach last month."

"What?" Roberts blinked.

"He probably needed them more than I do. I'll see if I can borrow some flats."

"...I don't think I've ever met a woman with less than 10 pairs of shoes." Said Roberts.

"I'm not a woman, I'm and undergrad." I said, still three years away from learning the term 'Nonbinary'. "Those are Jordan's only pair of shorts, you know." I pointed at my classmate, who had been wearing the one (1) pair of basketball shorts for the entire semester.

"I WASH THEM." Jordan shouted defensively, wearing the longest Men's Kinmo the theater department had, which barely came down to the top of his calves.

"Oh God." Said Roberts, a horrifying new world opening up to him like a tub of Expired sour cream.

It was the day of the Ceremony.

The Seasonal Theme we'd worked on was "The Turn Of Summer", and the weather was complying maliciously.

Normally, Tea Ceremonies are scheduled for the more temperate evening, but due to the school needing to host something in the adjoining cultural center later, we could only use the Tea Garden in the middle of the afternoon, and the summer sun was a sweltering 98 degrees and a similar level of Humidity. The Camelias were melting.

Where Jordan had difficulty finding a Kimono that suited his ent-like proportions, I'd had the opposite problem and the only Kimono short enough to not trip my Hobbit-sized self was a Child’s size. My roommate had helped me get into the Kimono and Obi before the ceremony, and leant me a pair of her Ballet Flats, but we discovered an issue- this Kimono was designed for a flat-chested prepubescent youth, and even though I barely scraped 5'0", I had the robust proportions of an Irish Peasant, and the only way to avoid displaying a frankly offensive amount of cleavage was to use the widest Obi we could find and sort of tuck my boobs into it.

"Hm" I said. "Kind of hard to breathe."

"Yeah, but you're sitting for most of it, right? It can't last more than an hour, so just like, shuffle and don't talk much?" She suggested.

To her credit, the first forty-five minutes of the ceremony only involved shuffling through the gardens and not talking while the Tea Master lectured us on some of the finer points of the garden's design.

But then we got to the Tea House- a small structure only barely able to accommodate the 13 of us, which was in the shade but hotter than the outside because of the roaring fire in the middle of the room, where the water for the Matcha was boiling. The room was surrounded by a narrow sort of porch, part of which hung over the Koi pond, where several massively overfed carp blurbled expectantly for treats at the arrival of humans. I sat down, legs folded under me like Professor Roberts had insisted, and realized that this pushed the Obi UP, and now my rib cage was being compressed in all directions.

I tried to pay attention to the rest of the ceremony, but two and a half hours is an awfully long time to listen about lecturers you've already heard when your body is undergoing a sort of internal horserace to see if the heatstroke, sciatica pain and numbness, allergies or suffocation-by-compression will cause you to pass out first. My legs had gone numb below the knee by the time we were done with the flower arrangement. My entire legs were numb before we were done with the Poem. By the time the Tea Utensils came out, I was seeing spots of colored light in my vision and could only breathe if I focused on it very, very hard.

But! The ceremony was genuinely interesting! and Professor Roberts was counting on me! So I did my best not to sway or throw up from watching the Tea Master whisk the Matcha, and dutifully took the bowl with a pair of hands that felt like slabs of ham that I was attempting to puppet from another dimension, and took a sip.

They say that Smell and Taste are far more closely connected to the emotional centers of the brain than any other sense, and I believe it because the instant I inhaled both the grassy, powdery smell, and tasted the moderately viscous bubbly liquid, I experienced an intense flashbulb memory back to a previous late May-

The Year was '98, the place was my elementary school art room, and we'd been using the seasonal hot weather to paint on a massive scale as the art dried quickly- each third-grader had been given a roll of butcher paper, a cheap brush, squirts of non-toxic paint and a water cup, and allowed to go hog-wild on our murals, and the rush of creative energy and the imminent sense of freedom as the semester drew to a close truly embodied the summer of youth, carefree but with an almost psychotic fervor, where lack of care was both freeing and dangerous as you lost track of your surroundings in the act of creation-

Which isn't a bad seasonal-philosophical connection statement to make, but the actual words that came out of my mouth were:

"Wow. This tastes exactly like paint."

The first sound I heard after the moment of silence was the cartoonishly loud gasp of horror from Professor Roberts, which was almost immediately drowned out by the thunderclap of laughter from the Tea Master, slapping his thighs and wiping tears from his face, unable to stop. I desperately tried to explain the connection between the fact I might be dying of heat stroke right now, and how I ended up drinking my paint water back in Mrs. Krantz's art class because back then I was also dying of heat stroke, but mostly ended up wheezing half-formed sentences as the rest of the class took sips and offered opinions varying between "Wow, that's thick. Like a Hot smoothie." and "Oh yeah, it tastes like summer. Like how a freshly-mowed lawn smells like summer." Professor Roberts slowly melted into a pile of shame, and the Tea Master slapped him on the back, still howling with laughter.

"They're honest! Nobody else will be honest! This is magnificent!" he wheezed.

Eventually, everyone had their taste, and the ceremony was concluded. The second the Tea Master had packed up his tools and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Professor Roberts was in my face.

"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "GO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!" he shoved me out onto the porch where the Tea Master was looking at the Koi, who had started bubble-begging aggressively again.

Except that my legs felt like blocks of wood that my pelvis was renting from another planet where legs hadn’t been invented yet, my vision was entirely static between the dehydration and lack of oxygen, and my vestibuar system had fucked off an hour ago, leaving me to stay upright by purely by the virtue of the over-tightened Obi. So instead of bowing and apologizing profusely like my professor expected, what I actually did was stumble out of the room, say something like "Hsdfkf" and topple head-first into the koi pond.

Fortunately, the impact of the bottom of the pond with the top of my skull activated a sort of last-resort emergency self preservation system and I inhaled with enough force to break the Obi-Jime and probably a couple ribs from the pain that hit both my sides like lightning. Unfortunately, the thing I was inhaling was fish-shit riddled Pond Water, so my emergency self-preservation system ordered an even harder Exhale.

The Tea Master, to his immense credit, had immediately jumped in after me, and pulled me upright just in time for me to forcibly exhale half a gallon of rancid pond water directly into his face, then start screaming. Screaming is an extremely appropriate reaction to have when injured, because it alerts everyone that you require medical attention, but is very unpleasant to experience from four inches away, which is probably why he then immediately dropped me.

Fortunately the pond wasn't very deep and this time I sat there, scream-gasping as my lungs reinflated, Koi fish burbling and sucking at me with tremendous excitement, until the EMT from the campus clinic arrived, a vanguard before the actual ambulance.

"Okay uh. You're bleeding." he said, cautiously wading into the pond.

I opened my eyes to find that I had apparently acquired a large and profusely bleeding head wound, which had activated some long-suppressed Shark Instincts in the Koi, which were eagerly gumming at the streams of blood and trying to suck on my forehead. "Good thing they don’t have teeth." I said in the distant bliss that only zen masters and people with serious head injuries get to experience.

"Do you want a towel?" he asked, helping me up.

"No, this is rather refreshing, actually." I said, still absolutely smashed on endorphins, Koi still enthusiastically swarming at my kneecaps.

"I mean like for your-" the EMT Gestured Vaguely at my torso.

I looked down and realized that not only had I broken the Obi-jime, the entire Obi had come undone and was floating several feet away, and I was only wearing the Kimono, fallen completely off my shoulders and was only being prevented from performing a full Lady Godiva by the valiant efforts of the safety pin my roommate had put in to keep it folded correctly while we figured out the Obi.

"Professor Roberts?" I stood up all the way, soaking wet, bleeding from my forehead with such force as to create actual streams of blood down my face, neck and chest, tits out, and addressed the poor man standing, white-faced on the deck above the pond. "I don't think I'm going to be in class on Monday-" I paused to fish a small Koi that had gotten trapped in the remains of the now-ruined Kimono, and tossed it back into the pond. "-Can I schedule a make-up exam for the Final?"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET IN THE AMBULANCE!" He screamed.

I was x-rayed for a skull fracture, but my lifelong membership to the Lactose Tolerance Club had protected me, and I happily texted my roommate to come pick me up as "They x-rayed my head and found nothing" while the doctor stitched part of my scalp back together.

The following morning, I discovered that Professor Roberts had graded my exam before I took it. 100%. Truly, the best way to get a good grade on your finals is to get a serious head injury.

So, Matcha is not a Tea, in my humble opinion.

Matcha is an Experience.

And sometimes that experience is drinking something almost exactly like paint, ruining an important cultural ceremony, traumatizing your professor, and introducing a bunch of fish to the taste of human flesh.

***

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#Family Lore #Tea Ceremony #Matcha #injury mention #blood mention

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