#Guys I'm not going to lie to you: I've been so sick these past few days but I didn't wanna give up.

[who-is-page]

Wag Those Tail Feathers: The Wonders of Alterhuman Courtship

Author: Page Type: Essay Words: 1,065 Summary: Page's perspective on alterhuman courtship, as an individual who has been both on the receiving and giving ends of it.

[Part of the Sol System’s Alterhuman Writing Project for 2024. If you don’t want to see these posts, block the tag #inkedclaws]

As a polyamorous alterhuman, I’ve had the wonderful experience of being in relationships with people who have a variety of different courtship instincts— sometimes even all at the same time! Including my own instincts, it’s led up to some interesting realizations about the variety and diversity of expressions of love, and how wonderful it can be to be loved by an alterhuman (and to be an alterhuman in love, too).

My personal experiences, notably, revolve specifically around being nonhuman and this applies to a majority of my partners as well, which influences the flavor of this discussion. It’s been a wonder to be the target of a feathery mating dance, to be wooed with draconic jewelry and treasures, or to have my partner jump out with a meal, as proud as could be at displaying their hunting skills for a mate. It’s not necessarily just a nonhuman thing, either, of course; my orthohuman partner exhibits some similar sort of feelings and actions, too! Something which comes across especially strong in his hunt-and-gather supply-hoarding behavior in video games. But there’s something so especially intimate about having your alterhuman partner court you in a way unique to their species identity. It’s a beyond flattering form of trust, love, and affection.

And as an alterhuman who has targeted my partners, alterhuman and orthohuman alike, with my own affections, it’s also uniquely affirming to have your partners engage with your varieties of courtship for your species. There’s something incredibly special to have them try to learn your rituals and woo you in turn, even if they don’t have the same instincts driving them. It’s love with intention, a conscious effort to learn a language that’s typically foreign to them or which they might otherwise never come across on such a personal level. It may not always be perfectly executed, but the intentions behind them make them perfect regardless.

I’m someone who’s fully public about my alterhumanity. I don’t hide that I’m a dog and (luckily) no one especially seems to care in the day-to-day when I’m meeting up with strangers and acquantinces. But it’s become an important part of my dating life that potential partners need to not only be aware of my alterhumanity and accept it, but they also need to interact with it. You could argue that my spouse set the bar high for any potential future partners with how he took to my canine-ness and plurality like a fish to water, but I’m of the opinion that it’s something that should be the norm, not something so utterly unexpected by many.

Being able to engage in alterhuman courtship with your partner, as serious or as silly as it may fundamentally end up being, shouldn’t be something that you feel is utterly unreachable, that you yearn for but never feel like you’ll be able to reach. Alterhuman courtship is a wonderous experience; something that I think it’s not only important for alterhuman folks to be able to freely do with those they love most, but also to be on the receiving end of, too. It can be easy to default to the status quo in relationships, because of the societal pressure around us. Normativity around romance, sex, and even platonic affections is something that is constantly at play in the backgrounds of our culture and which embeds itself into our conciousnesses in unexpected and often invisible ways; and it’s difficult to dissect these without exposing ourselves to what some might list as “weird” or “unusual” urges and behaviors. But we can’t unpack the shame or embarrassment that might be holding us back from engaging with these urges unless we actually let ourselves acknowledge the collective, confusing feelings abound within them. We shouldn’t allow ourselves to shrug our shoulders and simply say, “I suppose I’ll never find someone who can accept me as my [species] and all that entails,” or to just resign ourselves to having to hide a part of ourselves away forever to maintain relationships.

We should toss these types of negative feelings aside and embrace our alterhuman courtship urges in earnest: that sometimes we’re not fully human, or we’re human a little to the right, and that inevitably makes romance, sex, and platonic interactions a little different for us than it might look for standard folks as displayed on a big screen. It’s not a failure on our part, and it’s not something that needs to be squirreled away due to internalized respectability politics. We can love ourselves and find love in others, for and by being ourselves. We can experience unique forms of love and adore those factors in others. This is, to me, a part of the territory that comes with being alterhuman or knowing alterhumans. It’s a part of what makes life wonderous.

In my partnerships, I love getting to bring my partners gifts. I love to bring them tiny treasures, small things from my system’s hoard, to pebble at them almost like a penguin would (sometimes including a silly little dance, of love!) It goes beyond standard gift-giving in the way that most of the people I’ve met would think of it, where presents that large are often reserved for special occasions like holidays and birthday. But it’s something I do year-round, to show my partners that they’re always on my mind, and that what is mine is their’s, too. I do the same thing with food; while normally incredibly food protective, both due to species identity and past food insecurities, I make the effort to share my favorite foods with my partners for the same fundamental reasons. To share my food, my bed, my life— and to have my partners recognize that as not just general displays of love, but as specifically displays of love intertwined with what I am, is something which displays a deep level of understanding and acceptance for my species. It’s something I’m grateful for beyond words, but it’s also something that I don’t want us as a community to accept as unheard of, or as just a one-off, lucky occurrence. Love like this is achievable and rewarding, both as a recipient of such alterhuman affections and as the giver. And we all deserve to experience it, in whatever form of love that we feel most comfortable with. Don’t tell yourself otherwise; don’t settle for less just because you feel like you have no other choice.

[remlionheart]

Growing Pains

part three

♡ˎˊ˗ hiiii, welcome to the final installment of the fic that’s taken over my life for the last four months ♡ ̆̈ be sure to start here if you're new ♡ moving on from this story will be emotional i can’t lie, i've gotten way too invested in this but i'm very happy that i was able to see it through and hopefully do it justice. what started off as a small idea turned into something much bigger and i'm so thankful for all of the love and support you guys gave me. i love u all SO much, thanks for sticking with me on this ♡ biblically-cannon-megumi x fem!reader. slow burn. hurt / comfort. aged up characters. forced proximity. (light) enemies to lovers. eventual smut. this is what jjk could've been if fushiguro was the main character and gege would’ve been hugged as a child. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ˎˊ˗

₊⊹♡ MDNI ₊⊹♡

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

You'd lied for him.

Despite absolutely everything– despite your better judgement, despite the sick, burning sense of anxiety that had taken over your mind and body, you'd still... covered for him. Giving Gojo vague and concise answers, fabricating lies to make Megumi's late-night disappearances seem less concerning than they actually were. Telling him that it'd just started happening instead of admitting that it'd actually been going on for nearly two months. Painting a soft, false picture that he was usually only ever gone for an hour at a time though there had been several nights he hadn't made it back until nearly 4 in the morning. Mending his worries with whatever reassuring words you could string together to make him loosen up on his questioning until he'd finally closed the door to your dorm, leaving you with a poignant– "If anything else happens, you come find me."

You weren't sure how you'd managed to hold it together so well, but the minute it was just you alone with your thoughts again, you found your hands trembling as you rushed over to his side of the room. Reminding yourself to breathe while you rummaged through his bookshelf and nightstand for any sort of explanation.

Going through his things felt wrong, but not going through them would've somehow felt worse. If you'd learned anything from your time spent with him, it was that Megumi Fushiguro was a lot of things, but deceitful without cause wasn't one of them. He wasn't the type to lie for no reason. He held his secrets unreasonably close to his chest but never out of malice. If he was hiding something, if he was lying to you, Gojo, Nobara, and Yuuji– arguably the only people he'd ever really let in, it wasn't because he wanted to.

His belongings were every bit as organized and well-guarded as he was though, hardly anything seeming suspicious or out of place no matter how many journals and textbooks you searched through. You were trying to be as meticulous as you could, doing your very best not to acknowledge the race against the clock you knew were up against or the ever-increasing weight that was sitting on your chest as you reached for the only book left– the one that you'd gifted him for his birthday.

You pushed past your body's consternation, carefully flipping through the pages when finally, a folded up loose-leaf piece of paper fell out of it, making your heart completely abandon any semblance of a steady rhythm.

It was a series of bullet-points mostly, jotted down information about reversed curse techniques and different types of healing abilities that didn't seem to go in any particular order. You were almost afraid that you'd hit another dead-end until your eyes landed on the bottom of the page. Your legs suddenly struggling to keep you upright as you trailed over his handwriting, all of the rigid pieces of the last few months gradually beginning to unravel and connect.

"Technique Name: 'Kokoro Kiri' - also known as Heart Severing," it read, "is a reversed curse technique developed to manipulate, distort, and erase memories by severing the spiritual and emotional connections tied within a person's mind. This technique utilizes cursed energy to fracture the target's emotional bonds to certain experiences and people, effectively making them unable to access specific memories."

The page nearly slipped from your grasp, your hand suddenly shaking beyond your control as you forced yourself to take a seat on the edge of his bed. Your breathing was alarmingly uneven, tears desperately trying to push their way out no matter how hard you fought to keep them at bay. As much as you wanted to lie to yourself– to naively choose to believe that all of this somehow wasn't directly related to you, you couldn't.

Reality had you backed into a corner with its steel grip locked firmly around your neck and there was no escaping it.

Your vision was blurry, the words almost bleeding together as you continued on to the last paragraph, "Memory Fragmentation– typically performed by a healer, is used to destroy emotional and cognitive connections attached to selected memories or selected people in the target's mind. In some extreme cases, a skilled enough user may even have the capability to erase large portions of their target's past or sever bonds between them and a specified individual. Unlike memory manipulation or distortion, this ability creates a void in the target's mind, leaving them with a permanent sense of disconnection from who or what was once there."

The oxygen had all but vanished from the room as you stared back at his words, a devastatingly cruel fate laid out in such pretty handwriting. It was hard to fathom, that the same hands that had touched you so gently– the ones that had played with your hair until you'd fallen asleep, the ones that had tangled into yours on the nights that neither one of you wanted to be alone were the same ones that had been carrying around the weight of this plan all along.

You knew him well enough to know that this wasn't something he'd just decided on– no, nothing Megumi ever did was half-thought-out or impulsive. He was unbearably analytical. Annoyingly thorough when it came to most things, but especially research. He'd never bother to waste his time on variables or flimsy possibilities. If he was going to do something, he had to be impossibly sure that it would work, which meant that this… this must've been a guarantee.

All of those moments of hesitation– both big and small. The layers of distance and formality. The harsh, venomous silence that he used to separate himself from you. They all finally made sense.

"Itadori. Kugisaki. Anyone else here that you meet, for that matter," he'd said, "they’re not your friends.”

The tears that streamed down your face were painful and completely unavoidable as you pulled your knees up to your chest, letting your head rest against your arm while his words continued to haunt you.

“You can’t avoid it forever." The way he'd said it had felt so cold and unwarranted at the time. "You’re gonna have to get used to loss and to keeping everyone you meet at a distance." But it'd never occurred to you until now just how necessary that conversation actually was.

It had been a warning, not for you, but for himself.

Your body was numb, mind completely overrun with questions that you weren't sure you even wanted answers to, and they just kept multiplying the longer you sat with it all.

You allowed yourself another minute to breathe before slowly unfolding your legs and using the sleeve of your hoodie to dry your cheeks. Letting your eyes drift over the page one last time as you carefully tucked it into his book again and got to your feet, wedging it back into the spot you'd taken it from.

Would he have told you? Or would you have woken up one day with a void in the place that he should've been, not even realizing that something was missing? How far did this go, exactly? If there were different degrees of memory fragmentation, where did his interest in using it begin and where did it end?

The only real thing that made sense to you was that this must've been some sort of loophole to negate his contract with Yaga. To either free you from Jujutsu Society as a whole or to break his tie to you. It was too late at this point though– after everything that had happened, you didn't want to go down either of those paths and the fact that he did, the fact that he had somehow come to terms with the entirety of this... it made you realize that maybe you'd never actually known him at all.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, abruptly pulling you back to reality as his name flashed across the screen: "No project tonight," it read, "it'll finally just be us."

You stared at the text, unable to even write back a simple reply with how hard it was to keep yourself standing upright and steady. Your thumbs hovered above the keys, almost typing, but never actually letting a full thought form before another blue bubble popped up from him: "I wish it could always just be us."

Tears were instantly pricking at the corners of your eyes again, your insides burning as your chest constricted. Precarious but determined fingertips spelling out the last bit of honesty that seemed to exist between the two of you–

"It could’ve been...”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

He was frozen in place, the cold chill of the abandoned church that they'd been assigned to suddenly feeling like the very least haunting thing he was up against as he stashed his phone back into his pocket. Nothing had gone right since you'd dropped the three of them off. They'd been stuck in the same cathedral for hours and still hadn't found so much as a trace of cursed energy despite how small the area was.

Everyone was getting worn down and frustrated, but they didn't have the luxury of coming back empty-handed. His concern should've been on finding a solution, on checking the place over again to see if there was a hidden door or passageway that they'd somehow missed– something, anything that might lead them to the cursed object they were supposed to find. But instead, the only thought occupying his scattered, sleep-deprived mind was your use of the word "could've". The concise, intentional past-tense bite it had to it.

You were more similar to him than he'd care to admit, clumsy with your words at times and prone to rambling when nervous, but just like him, you never spoke out of turn. You were tactful. Soft-spoken, yet very deliberate when it came to expressing your feelings.

"Could've been" felt like a serrated knife because it was meant to. "Could've been" held the weight of a threat because it was one. "Could've been" implied that you knew something because–

"God, this is a pain in the ass," Kugisaki huffed, rolling a piece of rubble under her shoe as Fushiguro found himself actually pacing the longer he mulled over it. "We've looked damn near everywhere, there's nothing here!"

"Maybe Gojo gave us the wrong coordinates." Itadori shrugged, plopping himself down on one of the concrete pews as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Gojo.

Why did everything in his god-forsaken life have to lead back to Gojo?

You were the only two people at Jujutsu High with everyone else being out on missions– of course he'd tried to talk to you to see how things had been going. Gojo was constantly keeping tabs on him, always poking around to see how he was doing even when it was none of his concern. And you, being you– you'd probably been honest with him, not understanding how consequential your answers were.

The picture had become excruciatingly clear to him, what must've led up to that one single text from you. There was no wishful thinking left, no maybes or what-ifs that could possibly free him from this hell that you were both aware of now. Reality had him in the same chokehold it had you in, its grip just as merciless around his throat too– you knew and the only thing he could do was accept it.

He drew in a sharp breath, running a staggered hand over his face as his footsteps finally came to a pause. "We're withdrawing for now."

Kugisaki's eyes snapped up towards his, a blend of relief and confusion sweeping over her as she blinked back at him. "You sure?"

Fushiguro had never backed down from an assignment. Never tapped out no matter how long or grueling a mission was, but this was different. He could barely focus on anything, could barely keep himself present and coherent let alone concentrate on piecing together the layout of this abandoned building.

He needed to talk to you. Needed to get back to his room as soon as he could. It was the first time in his life that his emotions had managed to overrule his logic. Whatever was here clearly wasn't as threatening as it was thought to be– it could wait, you couldn't.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting you a text to let you know that they were ready as he motioned for Itadori and Kugisaki to follow him.

"We'll come back tomorrow," he reasoned, trying to sound more sure of himself than he actually was, "we can talk to Gojo about it in the morning and reconvene when we have more information, but there's no sense in staying here all night."

He knew neither of them would fight him on the decision, they'd both been practically half-way out the door before he'd even said anything anyway.

He stuffed his hands into his jacket, a sobering gust of late-winter air swirling around him as they stepped outside and started heading towards the cafe that you'd dropped them off at earlier.

Nervousness wasn't a feeling he knew well, but it had become a deep, painful pit in the center of his stomach the closer they got to you. There was so much he had to explain, so many agonizing words that he had to somehow make seem acceptable even though they were anything but.

He hesitated as he reached for the car door, his eyes meeting yours with all the caution in the world before he finally settled into the passenger's seat and gently reached over to rest the palm of his hand on your thigh, almost flinching at the idea of you pushing him away. It was hard to process that you'd somehow become both the cause and the remedy to his distress.

Your voice was even, your composure seemingly in-tact, but the way you looked at him... your glossy, defeated stare told a completely different story than the nonchalant facade you were putting on for your friends.

The ride back was unnervingly calm– you, Itadori, and Kugisaki all chatting back and forth, the volume of the radio getting turned up and down every few minutes depending on the song, Kugisaki's laughter echoing from the backseat at something Itadori had said. He found his grip tightening around your leg in a feeble attempt to stop his racing thoughts while his head rested against the window when the warmth of your hand landed on top of his. Your eyes subtly drifting over to him with more reassurance than he deserved.

His heart was lodged in his throat by the time you pulled into the parking lot, each step feeling more damning than the last as you made your way to the dorms until you'd finally reached the end of the hall. You both waved and said your goodnights to Itadori and Kugisaki before you dug your key out of your hoodie and opened the door, leaving him alone with you and the truths he couldn't possibly say.

It was quiet, the tension in the room absolutely suffocating as you stripped out of your coats and put your uniforms away, dodging glances from each other while changing into your usual sleepwear. He took a seat on the side of his bed, his pulse ringing through his ears as he watched you put your hair up in the mirror.

He could see your apprehension– the internal debate of whether to say something or stay silent. The indecision of retreating back to your bed or his. It was in every movement you made, every small detail of your mannerisms plagued with a sense of uncertainty that made him ache.

He swallowed hard as he reached his hand out to you, "Can you–" He cleared his throat, watching you slowly turn to face him. "Can you come here?"

The same hurt he was feeling was reflected in your gaze, your breathing coming to a visible stop as you struggled to look back at him.

"Please?"

His voice was barely a whisper, wavering and broken but still strong enough to pull you in.

You turned off the light before taking his hand, letting his arms wrap around you as you burrowed yourself into his chest. The familiar scent of him settling your nerves while his lips pressed against the top of your head and his fingertips began drawing soft, hazy patterns along your shoulder. The two of you welcoming the calm silence that followed as you sank further into the safety of one another.

Growing up, you'd never really known if home was supposed to be a place or a feeling. You'd lost it so many years ago, you figured there wasn't much sense in giving significance to a word that didn't belong in your vocabulary anymore anyway, but finally being with him after the day that you'd both had... You quickly realized that maybe it still did exist after all– not as a place or a feeling, but as both. It was here, right inside the small space between you. It was this, the sound of his heart beating steadily against your temple.

It was him and there was going to come a day where you'd wake up without the privilege of even being able to remember the beauty of what you'd lost.

Your chest heaved against your will, tears soaking his shirt as they spilled down your cheeks, the weight of it all becoming far too crippling to bear. Your arms locked around his waist desperately. Hopeless, childlike thoughts suddenly soaring through your mind like– maybe if you held onto him tight enough, you could somehow stay here forever, maybe if you could find the right things to say then time wouldn't have to carry on.

His grasp mirrored yours, holding you as steady as he could while letting out soft little nothings that all bled together, “Shh, it's okay. I've got you." and "Please breathe, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He was dangerously close to his own breaking point too though, the only thing holding him together was the need to be strong for you. His resolve was crumbling, every wall he'd ever built absolutely annihilated by the feeling of your nails digging into his sides as you clung onto him like he was the most important thing in the world.

"I don't–want–" you shook your head at the thought, your words choppy and almost impossible to get out. "I don't... want to– leave you."

He let out a semblance of an exhale, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he guided you down onto the bed with him so that you were both laying down with his arms still wrapped around you and your head back on his chest.

The way you trembled against him as he ran his fingers through your hair was the exact reason why he'd kept all of this hidden in the first place– the same reason why he'd tried so hard to keep his distance from you. This pain would've always been inevitable for him, but it shouldn't have been for you.

He continued to brush away your tears, more reassuring whispers spilling out every so often until your body finally started to relax. Your breathing gradually coming back down to a normal pace while his thumb traced along your neck.

"If it were up to me," he swallowed, forcing his vision to stay pointed up at the ceiling. "Things would be different."

You lifted your head slightly, your eyes roaming over his face as your fingers absentmindedly tangled into the collar of his shirt.

"You'd stay here with me. We'd graduate together." He rested a hand over his forehead to keep himself distracted from the weight of your stare, knowing it was the only way he could the next part out. "But, that's not how this place works– things are rarely good and when they are, they don't last long. There's... a lot– so much you don't know about the contract that's keeping you here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, your shoulders suddenly stiff again as you watched him.

"I haven’t been protecting you because Yaga told me to or because Gojo told me to or even because it was my assignment to... I’ve been protecting you because it's what I promised myself I would do."

It was like looking into a storm over the ocean when his eyes met yours again, graveness mixed guilt. "I need you to listen to me, okay? Really listen to me. This doesn't leave this room. This doesn't leave us."

You gave him a slow nod, chills splintering down your spine as he cupped your face with his hand.

"Yaga's original plan to have you executed didn't necessarily end just because I intervened. All I was able to do was postpone it and have the responsibility of who would carry it out be... transferred."

The air had officially been stolen from your lungs.

"My job? My actual mission when it comes to you? Is to monitor you. To watch you. To see if you'll have any lingering effects after coming into contact with Sukuna's finger as a non-sorcerer. You might as well be a science experiment to Yaga and the other higher-ups.” The disgust in his voice was thick, heavy. “I'm supposed to be the one to make sure nothing goes wrong while you're here. I'm contracted to keep close tabs on you to ensure that if Sukuna takes over Yuuji's body to try and coax information out of you, you aren't able to give it to him..."

It was the first time you'd seen his emotions evolve past his usual irritability or stoicism. He'd finally reached the core of it. The root of all of the negativity that he had bottled up inside of him for so long. It wasn't something as simple as anger or resentment– no, it was... grief that he’d been facing.

"The agreement was never for me to keep you safe, it was for me... to kill you if you became too much of a liability." He could barely look at you, his jaw clenched, the room blurred by tears he wasn't prepared to shed.

"That's why– I leave every night... I got Shoko to tip me off to a healer on the outskirts of Tokyo and we've been... going over different techniques... I've been burying myself in research, trying to figure out–" He paused, more violent waves of shame crashing over him as his thumb continued to lightly trace your jawline. "Trying to figure out the least invasive way to go about this because I– don't want it to... hurt. I want you to be able to keep as many memories as you can. I... want it to be... quick and painless. I– just want you to be... safe. Safe and out of here. That's all I care about."

You were crying again, but this time for both of you, for every single dismal decision that had been made and led to this.

You almost felt selfish for your own feelings, finally seeing the full scope of his. He'd saved you– again and again. And even after managing to find a way to do it one last time, he was still on the losing side of it. He would always be bound to the knowledge of what he'd done to you no matter how much time passed. You'd go on to not remember him, but oh god, would he remember you.

He'd been mourning you since the day you arrived and it'd only been getting worse with each day that he woke up with your body pressed against his. Even when he fought to find solutions, they still came with such a steep price that they ended up feeling like losses in disguise.

Neither side of this was fair. You'd be a late-night what-if that haunted him for the rest of his life and he'd be that place between sleep and awake for you. That confusing, gut-wrenching feeling of waking up and missing someone so immensely only to question if they'd ever really existed or not.

Both of your fates were equally cruel in vastly different ways, but realizing the selflessness behind his plan made something inside of you break. Everything he'd done, all of it, had always been for... you.

His hands were firm and secure against the sides of your face as he guided you up to him, looking back at you with all of the strength he had left.

"You've gotta trust me, okay?" Even through your own tears, you could still see his too. Just barely pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear like he'd done so many times before only none of it felt the way it should've. "I'll get you out of here. I won't let anything happen to you. But I need you to promise you won't fight me on this because.... it's the only way... we have to be in this together. Please."

Your breathing was staggered, your mind completely overwhelmed by promises you couldn't possibly make but had to. Feelings you absolutely couldn't lose but had to.

"What happens to you?" You faltered. "After all of this is said and done– where will it leave you?"

You couldn't help but think that the somber smile that cut across his face was one of the prettiest and most devastating things you'd ever get to see in your life.

"Doesn't really matter..." he whispered, featherlight touches still trailing across your skin. "I get to know that you're okay and that's enough."

His grip tightened around you, delicately pulling you closer to him until his mouth was grazing yours. "Promise me."

You wouldn't– you wouldn't do this for anyone else in the entire fucking world, and yet, you'd do it... for him. Your voice was shattered, barely audible as you finally agreed.

"Promise."

He rested his forehead against yours, taking a moment to soak you in. To share the same space as you. To hold you and know that he didn't have to let go just yet.

"You know, I used to watch you too." he said, lips softly pressing into yours as more tears spilled down your cheeks. "Across from the courtyard– you sat in the very back corner with a book in your hand. I always liked that about you."

You shook your head in disbelief with a half-hearted smile as he kissed you, again and again, more easy little confessions from him slipping out between breaths. Quietly reminiscing while he played with your hair, easing the room back into its usual calm state before he reached for the comforter and wrapped it around the two of you, letting your head nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

He watched you intently as you slowly began to drift off, your words tapering down to incoherent little hums while your body tangled further into his. Exhaustion finally stealing you away. He laid as still as he could, memorizing the ceiling pattern while the sound of your breathing mixed with the snow tapping against the window. The warmth of your skin perfectly contrasting the frigid temperatures outside.

Maybe Gojo had been right after all– because from where he was laying, he really couldn’t imagine any curse or nightmare or hell that was scarier than what he was feeling right now.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next day was a blur.

Ijichi returned back to class– but you didn't, refusing to leave the comfort of Megumi's bed. As much as you both needed to keep up appearances to avoid any more suspicion being tossed his way from the higher-ups, he still didn't fight you when you told him you weren't going. "I just..." you'd hesitated, your body not at all ready to untangle itself from the faux safety of his sheets. "I think I need a day to..."

"I get it." His eyes were just as exhausted and heavy as yours, but he'd still tucked you in anyway, gently wrapping his blanket around your shoulders as his stare lingered over you for a moment. "Don't worry about Ijichi," he said, "I'll tell him you're not coming. Shouldn't be a big deal. Just... try and get some rest."

You'd nodded, a seed of guilt settling into the pit of your stomach for not being able to pull yourself together when you knew he didn't have any other choice. He didn't fault you for it though– instead, he'd kissed the side of your cheek, whispering a soft but impossible, "It's gonna be alright." before smoothing down the collar of his uniform and heading out the door.

All of the progress that you'd made over the last six months– all of the painfully naïve optimism that you'd been clinging onto about finding purpose and normalcy suddenly felt so hollow, cruel almost. If Megumi's plan played out the way it was supposed to, it meant that you had approximately 9 days left until your mind would be permanently altered in ways that you couldn't even begin to let yourself try and comprehend.

You'd decided that you'd return back to class tomorrow– you'd take your meaningless little quizzes on probability and ratios and listen to Ijichi's lectures and do your very best to pretend that it didn't feel like your insides were catching fire with each passing minute. You'd put your best fake smile forward and go through the motions no matter how much of a slow death it felt like, because that's what you promised Megumi you'd do. But until tomorrow came, you weren't leaving his bed for anything.

You drew in a sharp breath, willing time to stop, even if just for a second as you attempted to declutter your thoughts. Maybe it was a coping mechanism or maybe it was because you were all too aware of the fact that soon, they'd no longer be there, but you couldn't stop yourself from sifting through old memories. Digging through the recesses of your mind like it was an old attic, letting nostalgia crash over you so hard you were almost afraid you wouldn't be able to find your way back to the present.

It started off slow, little snippets and fragments of mid-July air and the sound of your childhood best friend's laughter. Easy things like swing sets and waking up to the smell of fresh-baked bread at your grandma's house, but then you really started to remember the details. The duality and nuances of that house...

You rolled over as you rested your head in your hand, a painful static rippling through your mind.

You'd had to start over so many times in life– from the unexpected death of your parents when you were a kid, to moving into your grandma's house the summer before middle school after she'd gained full custody of you... She'd always been so kind and gentle but also feeble with a slew of health issues surrounding her. You'd been terrified when you'd lost her freshmen year, completely unsure of what your fate would be. You'd managed to avoid foster care though, quietly living in her house alone since it was already paid off. Keeping the utilities and yourself afloat with the small bank account she'd left you with.

"Come by my place after school," you'd never forget how relieved you were when he'd offered his house for that project instead of asking about yours.

Your life had been uprooted more times than you could count, everyone you'd ever loved ended up being torn away from you in the most unexpected and unfair ways imaginable... But even with everything that you'd faced, there was still nothing that could've prepared you for what happened at that party.

Your best friend who went with you... the way she held your hand while the two of you browsed through thrift stores and laughed together. She was the only one back then who really knew your situation...

"Fifteen fatalities have been reported so far, but we're still keeping an eye on it." She was your immediate first thought, yet another part of yourself that you'd lost only this time, it had been your fault. "Usually when something like this happens, the numbers climb more often than they fall."

Your fingers tangled into Megumi's blanket, the smell of him swirling around you as tears streamed down your face. While he may have carried the weight of it differently than you did, he wasn't the only one who had been forced to deal with loss. It'd been a haunting and viciously persistent theme in your life too, one that you were painfully tired of having to accept.

Your head was throbbing, your eyes closing to try and block out the rest of it when a knock at the door forced you back into the room.

"It's me!" Yuuji called out, his voice just as familiar and comforting as it always had been. "Promise I'll be in and out, I just wanted to drop off some curry for you."

You swallowed hard before rubbing a hand over your face to steady yourself. You didn't need a mirror to tell you that you looked like hell, but you still stole a quick glance at yourself anyway as you made your way to the door, cringing at the distraught reflection that stared back at you.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed when you're sick but Fushiguro said that..." The way his face fell as his eyes trailed over you made your stomach drop. "What happened...?"

You shook your head, offering him the most sincere smile you could manage. "Just... a really bad migraine." You shrugged, taking the bag of food from him. "I've been trying to sleep it off, I'll be alright."

You knew he didn't believe you.

“A migraine?”

"Yeah, they come out of nowhere sometimes." You nodded, a tidal wave of guilt washing over you for so blatantly lying to him. “I should be okay by tomorrow. It's really not a big deal."

"Right..." He hesitated, doing his best to map out his words. “Well, you know that if you’re not okay tomorrow… or the day after that… you can talk to me, right?”

The only thing you could do was nod again, the lump in your throat threatening to break as you fought the overwhelming urge to grab his wrist and ask him to sit with you. To tell him how much you were going to miss him. To tell him how much he and Nobara meant to you. To tell him that even if you didn't remember them, they'd always be a part of your heart... But you couldn't, you couldn't say hardly anything between the weight of his concern and Megumi's secret.  

He waited another few seconds, his apprehension to leave you alone palpable. But when you didn't say anything else, he finally took a step back. “Just... get to feeling better, okay?"

You nodded again, your voice catching as you said, “I will."

He shot you a faint smile and you did your best to return it before he disappeared back down the hall towards the sound of Nobara's voice. "She okay?" You heard her ask as you closed the door.

Everything in your life had always been fleeting and temporary but knowing that they were too was a level of a pain that you weren't ready to face. Your hands shook as you set the bag of curry down on the nightstand and fell back into Megumi's bed, curling into yourself as a sob racked through your body without warning.

You'd experienced more grief than you could ever put into words, and still, nothing had ever hurt quite like this.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's footsteps were light when he returned, his movements cautious as he approached you, glancing over at the untouched food by his bed.

He ran a gentle hand along your back, trying his best to keep you comfortable despite the selfish part of him that wanted to wake you up and bury his head into your chest after a long day.

You shifted, your hand instinctively reaching out for his as your eyes started to open, your surroundings still a blur. It was later than you'd anticipated it being, the moon just barely lighting up his side of the room. 

"You should eat," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing patterns into the inside of your palm.

"I know." You winced, your stomach burning at the thought. "I just... can't right now."

A blend of understanding and worry flickered through his stare as he pressed a light kiss onto the top of your hand. It wasn't like he'd necessarily been taking the best care of himself either the last few weeks.

He kicked off his shoes, stripping down into a t-shirt and boxers before laying down with you, the warmth of your body settling over him in a way he didn't realize he needed until he had it again.

A small smile crept across your face as he nestled into you, his tired arms wrapping around your waist while your fingers threaded through his hair, your nails just barely grazing his scalp. His legs were cold against yours, the sobering smell of winter air and pine filling the space between you.

You stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the sound of his breathing as it gradually began to sync with yours. It was rare that he clung to you like this, but it never failed to make you feel safe, like the rest of the world couldn't touch you as long as he was near you. 

The thought was soft when it first entered your mind, deceptively dreamy and trancelike with the way it had flowed in so easily. It was warmth, comfort, and... panic.

Your pulse quickened as the sentence echoed through your mind again, louder this time. Three words that you couldn’t possibly let yourself hold onto. Three words that represented everything you were losing. The feeling shifted from something gentle and manageable to sharp and serrated as it started to press against your ribs, demanding space you couldn’t afford to give it. Your fingers stilled in his hair, another rush of static and tears suddenly clouding your vision.

“Hey.”

His voice was low and steady as it cut through the haze, his hand brushing against your side. He propped himself up, tentatively hovering above you while his eyes searched yours. He could feel your heart racing, the way it was practically trying to beat through your chest.

"Breathe for me, okay?" He reached for your hand, but you could barely register it, a haze of anxiety replacing reality as your surroundings began to blur together.

You grabbed the side of your head, desperately closing your eyes to try and escape it, but the static in your mind only continued to spread. The room faded in and out, the edges of his face blurring together as the panic attack swept over you with vengeance. All of the things you wanted to say but couldn't. All of the feelings that you'd tried to bury but couldn't– they were all right there, right at the forefront of the storm.

Your fingers tangled into the fabric of Megumi's shirt, his face just inches apart from yours. He was still talking, still trying to keep you steady, but it wasn't working. There was a deafening ringing in your ears. A sea of scattered thoughts and displaced emotions crashing down around you. And then–

Nothing.

The static had somehow lifted, the suffocating wave of fear dying down. Your panic gradually replaced by what felt like an impossible stillness as he continued to hold you.

"Hey," the franticness in his voice was something you'd never heard before. "Look at me. Please, just–"

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, your vision clearing as you let the hand that you had pressed to your forehead fall back down to your side. 

The relief he felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by something else entirely as you froze again, your gaze locking onto something over his shoulder. 

You thought they were shadows at first– the type of looming figures that you'd see out of the corner of your eye when you'd been up for too long. The ones that would disappear with a simple blink, but the two sets of glowing eyes staring back at you were only becoming more and more visible the longer you looked at them.

Your head tilted slightly, taking in the mix of black and white fur, the matching red markings that decorated their foreheads before the smaller one took a step towards you, its movements gentle but seemingly protective as it laid beside you at the edge of the bed.

Megumi shifted, his shoulders visibly stiffening as he watched your reaction– the way your eyes carefully drifted over the Shikigami next to you. He drew in a sharp breath, keeping his tone as even as he could despite his own fears rising, realizing what this meant.

“You can see them... can’t you?”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The sun had just started to creep in through the blinds, but Megumi hadn't slept at all. He laid with his eyes closed and his mind racing for the better part of the night, tracing delicate patterns along your skin any time you'd start to stir.

"It's more common than you'd think," Gojo said as they walked across the training field, the August sun beating down on both of them. "Negativity takes on all kinds of different forms, it's not always as black and white as we make it out to be."

Megumi had shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes pointed down at the track as they made their way past two first-years struggling to land a hit on each other. "But if curses only become visible when someone's on the brink of death, then why –"

"That's not the only time it happens." Gojo interjected, "There are exceptions, just like anything else. All it takes is for enough grief and despair to hit someone at just the right frequency and..." He snapped his fingers, pulling Megumi's attention towards him again. "A non-sorcerer would be able to start seeing things they shouldn't– curses, residuals, it would all become visible to them."

Megumi's pace slowed, his brows furrowing the longer he thought about it. "And you think that's what happened to him?" He finally asked, "You think he just... spiraled so hard that he stumbled into this world by accident?"

"More or less." Gojo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "Look, Junpei was a perfect example of what can happen when all the wrong things line up exactly at the right time. All that bullying, that isolation, losing his mom– his entire life was one long string of pain and anger. That much negativity? It doesn’t usually just sit quietly. It festers. And in his case, it built up to the point where it broke through the usual barriers."

Megumi paused, trying but failing to block out how hard Yuuji had taken his death over the last month. "And cases like him– exceptions like Junpei are... common?"

Gojo's smirk faltered, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent slightly to meet his gaze. "All I'm saying is that they're not unheard of. Even the strongest people have their limits."

The memory had replayed itself so many times he could barely distinguish the present from nostalgia by the time you woke up next to him. He'd known that he was on borrowed time from the moment you'd arrived, but now... even that was gone.

His grip on you was light but firm as you started to stretch your legs, your eyes barely having the chance to open before your own thoughts began to spiral. No matter how much he tried to keep you calm, the demon dogs staring back at you were a solid reminder of where the two of you stood.

"We have to go... tonight, don't we?"

The silence that followed made your chest tighten, your hand shaking as your fingertips dug into the side of his arm. You drew in a breath before nodding in defeat, sparing him from having to be the one to say it.

You knew the second it had happened that this was what was coming, but there was still something so unexplainably damning about how it felt settling over the two of you. This was the last morning you’d wake up beside him. The last time you’d get to see him like this– soft and unguarded in ways no one else would ever know.

Your lips parted with those three words still desperately clinging to the tip of your tongue, but you managed to swallow them down, refusing to make things worse than they already were. It was the second time in only a few short minutes that you'd been the one to spare him.

His hand caught yours, your quiet acceptance hitting you both in steady but unrelenting waves as you laid together, your feelings embedded into every touch and every movement you made. It was tangible, absolutely everywhere in the space between you, and maybe… that was enough.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The hours went by like minutes, a heavy sense of finality and dread clinging onto even the most mundane things– from the way it felt to help Megumi with the buttons on his uniform while the two of you got ready together to the car ride where you'd had to take him, Yuuji, and Nobara back to the same church that they'd failed their previous mission at. It was all painfully familiar and foreign at once.

You were digging mental graves for friends that were still very much alive. Glancing over at Yuuji with a small smile as he leaned up to the front of the car to make sure you were actually feeling better. Knowing that this was your last day with him and having to push down the grief of not being able to give him or Nobara a proper goodbye. Kissing Megumi– really kissing him before you left and trying not to break down at the way his eyes lingered on you as you drove off. Every interaction you had was somehow more futile than the last and yet, you had no choice but to endure it.

By the time you reached Ijichi, you were more than ready to take a seat and tune out the rest of the world with one of his infamously dry lectures, but even his monotone voice and horrible puns were finding ways to tug at your heartstrings. Your mind wandered back to your first week with him– how welcome he'd made you feel without even meaning to. His classroom had always felt like more of a reprieve than a punishment, a quiet comfort amongst the chaos.

You shook your head, fighting past the tears that were threatening to spill over as you busied yourself with one of the ratio equations he had on the whiteboard when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You swallowed hard, watching his name flash across the screen before getting up and promptly making your way out into the hall.

He'd never called on you while on a mission.

"Hey," you exhaled, "is everything–"

"We found a special grade curse." He said breathlessly, "Nobara– she's alright, but I need you to come get her and take her back to Shoko."

The phone nearly slipped from your hand, the loud, piercing background noise coupled with Yuuji's panicked, 'Fushiguro!' made your heart feel like it was going to stop altogether.

You looked back at Ijichi from over your shoulder as Megumi continued talking, giving you instructions on what to do when you got there, but your focus was suddenly everywhere else.

"Gojo..." You hesitated, "Do you want me to bring him? Just in case–"

"No," his voice was sharp, leaving little room for protest. "No, Itadori and I can handle it, I just need you to come get her, okay?"

You hated the knot that had formed in your stomach, the nervousness that danced through your veins as you reluctantly agreed, telling him you'd be there as soon as you could.

When working as an assistant, sorcerers are always to take top priority regardless of the situation, it was one of the first lessons he'd gone over with you, though neither one of you had any way of knowing at the time that you'd one day be using it against him...

You zipped up your coat, shaking away the thought as you headed down the faculty stairs and dug your set of keys out of your pocket. You didn't have time for remorse– not now, and not when the lies you’d told would be forgotten by the end of the night anyway.

The cold air nipped at your face, snow still blowing haphazardly across the parking lot as you climbed into the driver's seat, overwhelmed and completely unaware of the set of eyes that had been following you since you'd left Ijichi's classroom.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The drive there was a blur, your mind flooding with nothing but worse-case scenarios and scattered images of Nobara laughing and holding your hand as the two of you walked down the hallway together.

Knowing that she was hurt... knowing that she needed a healer while also not knowing the extent of her injuries amidst the stress of everything else you were already facing had your foot heavy on the gas pedal, your car slightly shaking from the gravel road you were on.

The city lights had vanished a few miles back, the grey overcast not helping your case as you struggled to make out buildings in the late January haze of snow and poorly marked country roads. You weren't sure if it was relief or more dread that swirled through your stomach when your GPS started to chime, but it was too late to let yourself indulge in either.

Your throat tightened when you finally spotted it– an old worn-down cathedral in the middle of a seemingly empty field, surrounded by fresh debris and rubble that only made your anxiety swell. It was the first time you'd ever been to an actual pick-up spot. The first time you'd been exposed to the things that Megumi had tried so hard to keep you sheltered from.

You peered through the icy windshield, searching but failing to find any sign of her. "She'll be out front waiting for you when you get here so just stay in the car." He'd said, "She'll come to you, okay?" Even after you'd agreed though, he still repeated it back with an unnerving amount of conviction laced into his words. "Promise me– you won't get out of the car."

Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone and began dialing his number, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out just how wrong all of this felt. Each unanswered ring seemed to drag by slower than the last, your pulse thrumming through your ears by the time his voicemail echoed through the receiver.

You'd done everything that he'd asked and so much more. You'd kept his secrets. You'd protected him. You'd lied for him. You'd cared for him in more ways than you could ever bring yourself to say aloud. But this was one promise you were quickly realizing you wouldn't be able to keep as you watched a familiar thick, black smog seep out through the cracks in the boarded-up windows of the church. Another powerful thud reverberating with such intensity that it shook the ground beneath you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, though you weren't sure if you were saying it to him or yourself as you reached for the door handle.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Your breathing came to a halt the moment that your feet hit the ground. The air was impossibly dense, contaminated with a thick layer of smoke that seemed to tangle around your limbs the closer you got to the entrance.

You could practically hear Megumi's voice screaming at you to turn around, but you forced yourself to push past it as you approached the edge of the broken stone staircase, redirecting your focus on where and where not to step.

The entryway was completely shattered, the heavy wooden doors splintered and hanging off of their hinges. You held your breath as you squeezed your way through a small opening, doing everything you could to keep yourself steady despite the trail of fog that seemed to follow you.

Your pace was meticulous, each movement calculated while you navigated your way through the wreckage. It wasn't until you saw the faint waves of light flashing through the darkness that you froze. Your eyes snapped towards the back of the church, watching in quiet horror as the unmistakable hum of cursed energy exploded across the room in bursts.

You were stuck somewhere between fight or flight– your legs carrying you with agility you didn't even know you had as you broke into a sprint. You ducked, taking cover behind one of the destroyed pillars, just narrowly dodging a support beam that came crashing down when a hand suddenly reached out for you.

"'The hell were you thinking–" she coughed, her voice still maintaining its usual firmness despite how feeble it was. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"Nobara," you breathed, your hand cupping her face to wipe away the red rolling down her cheek. Her body was lax, slumped against the remains of a wooden pew with blood dripping from her hairline down to her chin.

Your insides felt like they were on fire, adrenaline flooding your system quicker than you could keep up with as you scanned the area for the most manageable way out before looking back at her. "I'm not leaving you here." You promised, your body acting faster than your brain as you reached for her arm and slung it over your shoulder.

"Are you insane? You can't just–"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" The question was sharp enough to slice through the tension, time seeming to stop even if only for a second when her eyes met yours.

"Of course I would." She conceded, slowly lifting herself up as she leaned on you for support. "Megumi's gonna... kill you though."

It was one of the first times you'd really smiled in the last three days. "I think I'll be alright."

The calm was momentary though, another amethyst-colored beam tearing through the air. "Hold onto me." You said, tightening your grip around her waist.

Shattered stone cascaded around the two of you, your breath catching in your throat as the cursed energy spiked again, sharper and heavier than before. It almost felt alive with the way it twisted around your legs– that same fear, that same dread from the night Megumi had saved you creeping over you once more. The burning sensation seeped into your pores the higher up it climbed, rooting itself into your chest.

Your movements were strained, each step forward nearly knocking the wind out of you as you shielded Nobara from more falling debris, both of you crouching behind an abandoned altar.

The entrance was just within your reach if you could manage to keep yourself upright and steady, the light from the outside barely grazing the edge of the corridor. Right as you shifted your weight to stand though– a low, guttural growl reverberated across the floor sending another wave of what felt like rogue electricity beneath your skin.

"Fuck," you hissed, your vision becoming blurry as you fought to keep your focus.

"Leave me here," Nobara insisted, trying but failing to shake you off of her. "Look, Yuuji's right over there, he can grab me when he–"

But her demands came to an abrupt end as the two of you became frozen in place, the curse emerging from the shadows to reveal a series of vine-like limbs and skin that resembled ancient bark. The size of it alone was enough to make your heart forget how to beat, but the second its eyes landed on you, the earth seemed to still entirely.

"What the–" Megumi's voice broke through the chaos, the weight of his stare crippling when he spotted you from across the room, his frustration and concern palpable even from where he was standing.

"Go!" He shouted, another Shikigami already forming in front of him.

The figure tilted its head as if it were studying you, the pressure of its gaze pinning you to the floor. It wasn’t just fear this time– it was something deeper, almost primal that wrapped around your spine and pulled tight as the taunting hum of its cursed energy crackled into the space between you. Its floral patterns glowing faintly in the dim light with its vines curling and writhing carefully towards you.

“Why do you fight so hard to protect something so fleeting?”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi stiffened, his hands stretched out in front of him like weapon as Nuu lunged toward the curse, but he wasn't even able make it halfway to you before a branch-like limb sprawled out and slammed the demon dog into the ground with a force that shook the foundation of the already crumbling building.

Your head felt like it was going to explode, your thoughts and emotions bleeding into each other all at once as its question repeated on an unwanted loop.

Fleeting.

“Listen to me!” Nobara’s voice suddenly felt distant, blurred by an odd sense of clarity that had started to wash over you. “Leave me here. You have to go!”

It was right– your life had been made up of nothing more than fleeting contentment and memories that weren't made to last. The things that you were trying so hard to fight for would be gone by tomorrow, just like everything else, but they were here now and so were you. If this had to be your last day with them– if losing Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara was truly inevitable no matter what choice you made, then you'd do everything you could to protect them.

“No,” you said, the word falling from your lips before you even realized it. “I told you I’m not leaving you.”

The curse moved again, swift but intentional, closing the distance between you while its vines began to thrash, leaving more broken concrete beneath its force. Megumi yelled your name, his expression dropping as he watched the somber smile that cut across your face when your eyes met his.

"Don't!" He warned, his hands cast backout in front of him, but your mind was already made up.

You secured your grip on Nobara, forcing her to lean more heavily on you while you dragged her a few steps closer to the fragmented remains of the entrance. You were so close– just a few more feet and you could hand her off to Yuuji, who was locked in a struggle of his own ahead of you.

But close wasn’t enough.

The energy in the room surged again, its presence suddenly suffocating and absolutely everywhere as thick, sharp tendrils snared around your legs. Your body felt like it had caught fire, the white-hot heat of its touch making your vision flicker in and out as it started to pull you backward, Nobara's weight shifting dangerously against you.

Your jaw clenched, your ears ringing as you fought to garner up every ounce of strength you had left to push forward. You were desperate, every step seeming to tear something essential out of you, but still, you moved.

Another blinding wave of pain hit you– the curse’s vines snapping again, just barely missing your head as they shattered another fixture above you. It was a storm of debris and splintered wood, making it hard to tell where its limbs began and the church's destruction ended.

“Yuuji!” you screamed, your voice raw as your stare caught his. “Take her!"

He was stunned, too worn-down and short on time to argue with you.

Your adrenaline was exhausted, every part of your body ready and willing to collapse, but with one final push, you managed to shove Nobara toward the faint light spilling out through the ruined entryway.

She staggered, her legs barely holding her as Yuuji lunged forward, catching her in his arms right before she fell. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to really breathe since you'd found her, a warm sense of relief cutting through the pain.

But it didn't take long for it to vanish, the crushing reality of the curse now looming over you suddenly outweighing any amount of comfort you'd once had.

Its grip coiled tighter around your legs, your body going limp as it dragged you back once more. There was static in your veins, an overwhelming pressure pushing down on your ribs, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

This was it.

The background commotion slowly tapered down, your senses gradually disconnecting from your body as the chapel started to drift further and further away. A surreal sense of acceptance wrapped around you like a warm hug. No more fighting, no more flailing– it was just you and the comfortable abyss that you were sinking into. Just you and the memories that you were able to keep until the very end. If you had to die in one way or another tonight, at least you were able to do it knowing that you had spared him one last time.

There was a distorted fluttering feeling in your chest. A dizziness in your brain. A hazy montage of impossibly blue eyes and all the things you should've said.

And then,

it all,

faded,

to black...

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's head was throbbing when his eyes finally opened again, his stomach still in knots as he blinked back tears, trying to piece together where he’d ended up. He was sprawled out on a familiar grey leather couch with a knit blanket carefully tucked over him. The rigid winter air only amplifying his headache as it knocked against the window of his office.

“'Bout time you woke up."

His mind was overrun with the fractured pieces of what had happened, sensations and memories coming back in painful waves: The leveled church. The sound of glass shattering as he channeled his domain expansion. The feeling of your body pressed against his before everything vanished…

“Where’s..." The panic he felt was all-consuming, time coming to a grinding halt when he realized that he was the only one recovering. “Where is she...?"

Gojo's smirk was nowhere to be found, his stare softening a bit as he took a step towards him. "I talked to Shoko,"

"– And?" Megumi demanded.

"She told me about your sudden interest in Kokoro Kiri," his tone was light despite how pointed his words were, "Usually used for memory manipulation and soul severing, right? Causes the victim to forget specific people and events?"

"You know that's not what I meant–" Megumi snapped, "Is she...?" His face was flushed, his nerves completely shot as he struggled to swallow down the rest of his question. "Look, I don't care what happens to me after this, I'll take whatever punishment the higher-ups decide on, but I need to know what happened to her. Please, just..."

Gojo's demeanor was eerily calm, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent down to become eye-level with him.

"If I had to guess," he paused, "She's probably still asleep."

Megumi's lips parted but the only thing that came out was a jagged exhale, his breathing coming out in short, choppy intervals. "So she's..." His head was spinning, relief and fear both clinging onto him at once. "She's okay, then? I mean, she's not...?"

"She's got some pretty deep cuts on her legs– probably gonna end up with a scar or two once she's fully healed, but other than that," A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched the life slowly return back to Megumi's eyes. "She's alright."

The tone of the room shifted into something more manageable despite the multitude of other unanswered questions that still sat between them. Megumi's hands shook slightly as he ran them over his face, images of the ruins he'd left behind coming back in flashes.

"You took down a special grade curse by yourself before I got there," Gojo said, almost sounding proud as he took a seat next to him. "I still had to clean up the aftermath of course, but..."

His stare lingered on him for a moment, the amusement in his tone fading, "She must be pretty important to you, huh? Making you tap into your full potential like that?"

Megumi hesitated, his gaze drifting to the floor as he nodded, remembering a brief conversation they'd had last year during a training session. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, "she is."

"You could've asked me for help, you know." Gojo shifted in his seat, letting out his own sigh while he rested his chin in his hands. "You should've asked me for help. You've gotta quit thinking that you can handle everything by yourself."

Megumi's jaw tightened, his words hanging heavily between them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gojo pressed, tilting his head at him as their eyes met again. "About the details of your contract? About the healer you've been seeing? Do you have any idea how bad that could've ended for you? For both of you, if you would've gone through with it?"

"I thought you already knew," Megumi bit back, exasperated by the fact that he was even asking in the first place. "You were there the night that I brought her back– you met me in Yaga's office after the negotiation was finalized."

Gojo looked back at him incredulously, "You honestly thought that I'd let you take on that kind of burden? From the higher-ups no less?"

His head was pounding, his thoughts clouded by an unnerving mix of exhaustion and guilt. "Yaga's never done anything in regard to me without running it by you first, even some of my missions get sent to you for approval, so why the hell would this have been any different?"

"Because you're an adult now." Gojo said simply, the gravity of his sentiment strong enough to break down Megumi's defense. "I didn't ask Yaga anything about your contract because I wanted it to be something that you handled on your own. I just figured you'd be smart enough to let me know if something went wrong."

The walls of his office felt like they were closing in on him as all of the resentment and pain that he'd been grappling with for the last five months suddenly came circling back to the true source of their existence– him. It was never you or Gojo or anyone else that had complicated his life this much, it was his own stubbornness. His refusal to accept help and admit defeat.

"I..." He faltered, his brows furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions at bay. "I'm sorry. You're right, I should've told you. I should've known when it was too much to take on alone..."

Gojo's expression softened slightly, his shoulder gently nudging his.

"Hey," He soothed, knowing better than anyone that getting an apology from Megumi– a sincere one, at that, meant something. "Growing pains are a part of life– this isn't your first and it won't be your last, but it's what makes us human. Sometimes lessons have to be hard to be remembered." 

Megumi was quiet as he took in his words, letting the familiar sense of solace have its moment.   

"Don't beat yourself up over it too much though, alright?" Gojo mused as he leaned back, lazily stretching his hands behind his head. "Your face is rough enough as is and I hear there's a cute girl waiting for you down in Shoko's office."

A small smile crept across Megumi's face as he nodded before getting to his feet.

"Oh and– and Megumi? One last thing."

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked back at him from over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"We can go over the details later when you're not so," he gestured vaguely towards his tattered appearance, "Half-dead," he said flippantly, "But she's staying just so you know. No strings attached other than her maintaining her cover story while she's here, but aside from that, the contract is null and void– for both of you."

He froze, his pupils doubling in size as he stared back at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

"10 million yen and a few offhanded threats tend to go a long way in the sorcerer world." He shrugged. "That, and the fact that we'll have her as an assistant once she graduates. Continuing to room with her is optional, but–" His smirk returned with playful ease. "I figured you wouldn't be in a hurry to kick her out just yet."

There was a part of him that was afraid if he blinked for too long, he'd wake up slumped against a rutted pillar with nothing but debris and ash surrounding him again. His throat tightened, trying his best to ground himself as he hesitated at the doorway.

"Thank you, Gojo." He finally managed. "For everything."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next few days were a blur of pain medication, sleep, and holding Megumi's hand as he dozed off in the armchair next to you. He would end up in what looked like the most uncomfortable pretzel-like positions, but he still refused to leave your side no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to go back to the dorm instead.

Aside from the occasional injured first-year that would wander in every so often, the medical ward was strangely peaceful. Your mornings were spent listening to Shoko explain various healing techniques while redressing the bandages on your legs. Checking to make sure that your body was responding to treatment the way it was supposed to while Megumi watched intently, taking mental notes for himself just in case he'd need them later.

Your afternoons were filled with visitors after word got out about how you'd sacrificed yourself to save Nobara against –what you'd later learned from Gojo– was a curse named Hanami. She was still recovering too, but her healing process had been a lot more sped-up than yours with her body being more acclimated to the effects of cursed energy. Yuuji brought you fresh flowers every day– big, well-thought arrangements with all of your favorite colors. "You'll tell her that these are from me, right?" He'd tease Megumi. "Don't want you takin' credit for my hard work."

While you knew that Gojo had managed to revoke the terms of your contract, the weight of it still hadn't fully left you. There were nights that you'd wake up in cold sweats, tears streaming down your face as you'd find yourself frantically reaching out for Megumi's hand. "I'm here," he'd whisper, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't until you'd been released and the two of you were finally back in your room that things actually started to feel somewhat solidified. There wasn't the same looming sense of dread that used to follow you. There wasn't the constant weight of abandonment clawing at your chest.

There was just him and the way his hands felt grazing your jawline as he kissed you. The way that he tried so hard to be so delicate with you despite the pent-up fire behind his stare every time he touched you.

"Megumi," you breathed, pulling him closer as the morning sun began to seep in from the window. "I'm not made of glass." You reminded him, your fingers tangling into his hair.

HIs hands were still lingering on your waist, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked back at you through heavy lashes. "You'll tell me if it's too much?"

There was something about the care in his eyes, the way he always put you first, even when his own restraint was clearly hanging on by a thread. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you nodded. "Promise."

His grip on you tightened, the palm of his hand warm against the side of your neck before his tongue parted your lips again.

You could feel the shift of him starting to let go, the way his hand roamed from your neck to your lower back with his movements becoming more and more fervent. Breathy little noises filling the space between you while he helped you out of your shorts and tossed them to the side of his bed.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes tentatively trailing over you as he lined himself up with your entrance. It was the very last wall he had left, one that he never thought he'd be able to fully tear down until now.

He couldn't stop the low moan that escaped him as he slid into you, watching how your pupils dilated as you looked back at him with trust that he still wasn't sure he deserved. The words were right there, right where they'd always been, steady and terrifyingly honest.

He drew in a breath, letting himself sink into you, noting the way your body held him tighter the further he went. It had always been you. His hand shook slightly, using his thumb to tilt your head up towards his while his hips met yours with the same deep, consuming pace. It would always be you.

His lips parted, his mind slipping as he finally let go completely and buried everything he had in you,

"I love you."

It was soft but impossibly sure as it brushed across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth you didn't even know existed in its wake. There was suddenly no such thing as holding back– not the tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes or the feelings that you'd tried so hard to control for the last six months. He was everywhere, embedded into every single part of you.

It settled over your chest, opening up like a floodgate once it began– "I love you." you breathed, your nails digging into his neck."I love you." you whimpered again as your back arched beneath him. "I love you." he panted, his hands firm against your hips as your walls began to unravel around him. "I love you." you cried, letting yourself fall apart for him entirely.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 3)

Afab!reader x Mike Schmidt 

pt 1 pt 2

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, slow burn, enemies to friends(?) Slight angst, mentions of custody/family issues, fluff, no use of y/n

A/N: I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for taking almost a year to write this. I was originally going to leave it unfinished, but it didn’t feel fair, plus I've been itching to write something. Sorry this is short, I felt like you guys deserved some clarity at least. Also, I’ve been practicing writing these past few months, so hopefully the quality has increased!

(I did change the tense, so I'm sorry for the difference from the prior parts.)

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Mike was never the type to lie. Ever. He wasn’t perfect all 6 years, but no one is. But, just hours ago he drunkenly admitted he lied to you for years. 

The lie ran through your head like poison, infecting your blood, and making it impossible to think. 

He was drunk. He could barely make it down the hall without your help. But, it was such an odd confession, and he said it with such conviction you had no choice but to believe it was the truth.  You had always believed drunken words were sober thoughts. 

Either way, those 5 little words caused you to call out sick to work the next day. How could you work? How could you walk through the fluorescent-lit halls and act like your world wasn’t torn apart just 12 hours before?

Clapton was still blowing up your phone with texts filled with worry and frustration. You felt bad, sure, but you just couldn’t deal with him.

You flipped open your phone, scrolling through the long slew of messages. 

“Why aren’t you answering me? Did I do smth?”

“U good?”

“Yea. I haven’t been feeling good recently, sry.”

It wasn’t just an excuse; you genuinely felt like shit. A heavy pit settled in your stomach, and a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The thought of confronting Mike loomed over you like a dark cloud. You knew you needed to talk, but the mere thought filled you with dread, tightening your chest and making it hard for you to breathe.

After long, restless hours in bed, the pain in your heart became unbearable, a heavy burden weighing you down. With a deep breath, you finally pushed the sheets aside and got up. The silence of the hall closed in around you as you approached Mike’s door. You hesitated briefly before knocking softly, the sound cutting through the stillness.

With every silent second, your heart pounded louder in your chest, and your palms grew slick with sweat. A chilling wave swept down your spine, tightening the grip of anxiety. The hairs on your arms prickled as the locks clicked and echoed in the silence. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the irrational fear that gripped you.

The door creaked open, and there stood Mike, silhouetted by the dim light behind him. You took a long look at him, your eyes tracing the dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing nothing but basketball shorts. His soft brown curls were a tangled mess, and his skin had an unusual greenish hue. With his eyebrows furrowed together in pain, you could tell that he was suffering from an awful hangover.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You asked, unable to shake the feeling that he might have forgotten the words he said that carried so much meaning. 

Mike sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?” he asked, regret evident in his voice. You chuckled softly, silently agreeing with him.

“It’s… Fine.”

“But, it’s not.” He said, his voice shaky, “You’re so… Good to me. You always have been.” You snapped your eyes up and looked into his. 

“I just… I just don’t understand why you’ve been this way, Mike.”

“I- God, things have just been a mess with Abbs and my Aunt.” 

“Mike…”

“I know. I know, it’s no excuse. I just... You were always my rock. You were the only one who could calm me down, who could help me work through my bullshit.” 

The hatred that simmered deep in your soul slowly melted out of your body the more he talked. The tension in your shoulders deflated, and a sad smile crawled across your face.

“Then why’d you leave me?”

Mike winced, your words stabbing through his beating heart. Before he could speak, you hesitantly brought up the prior night.

“You… You said something last night. That- There wasn’t another girl?”

His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. The horror in his eyes made it apparent that neither of you were ready to have this conversation.

“I think it’s best if you come in.” 

Minutes later, you found yourself situated on his couch, a mug of tea warming your shaking hands. Mike sat down next to you, now covered up with a black sweatshirt.

“Do… Do you remember the first custody battle? When they called you to testify and come to court for days.” He enunciated days like you didn’t remember the grueling weeks you two fought through together. Despite that, you nodded slowly.

“You had to take a gap year. You were so close to getting your teaching degree. It put you behind.”

“I remember.” 

“Well… Um.” He stuttered through his words, almost like it was painful to recount the past. “That week I left... It happened again. Jane tried to get custody. I just.. Couldn't put you through that again. You were on track to getting your dream job, for god's sake. So, I left.”

Your entire body froze as the world around you stopped spinning. Dizziness clouded your head, and your vision became blurry. It didn’t make sense—nothing he said made any sense to you. For two years, you had believed what he told you. You believed that heartless text he sent. You accepted every word.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“It wasn’t fair to drag you into my bullshit. I wanted to protect you and protect Abby. I thought the best way was to get you away from me. I was like a black hole. I sucked the life out of you.” 

“Mike- That’s not true!”

“It is, though! I mean look at you! You have everything. You have your dream career, your dream apartment. Your life became better when I left.”

“Because I had to! That year, I lost everything! I lost my whole world, Mike! I loved you! Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped! I would’ve done anything for you!”

“That’s exactly why I left!” You flinched back, your eyebrows furrowed together. “I just couldn’t watch you interrupt your life for me. Interrupt your dreams. I couldn’t even protect my own sister. How could I sit there and ruin your life, too?”

You wanted to push him, yell at him, but you could tell he was in pain. You could tell guilt was eating him alive, you could tell he was aching. You didn’t want him to feel worse for his actions. But you needed him to know how you felt. You needed him to know how the hole in your heart he left almost consumed you.

“Mike… I spent almost 3 years hating you. Hating myself. I hated myself because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. You should’ve told me.”

“Good enough? You were too good for me! Hell, you still are. I treated you like shit. I ruined your life! And you still care for me. You still helped me in my lowest moments. You’re beautiful and sweet, and god, you’re just.. An angel. I never deserved you.” He could barely look you in the eyes.

Before your brain could process, and beg you to stop, your hand reached up to cup his jaw. Your thumb drew circles on his skin. His eyes flicked up to yours and his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“That never stopped me from loving you.” His eyes shone in the apartment lights, illuminating the flicks of gold. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You wanted to stare at him for hours. You wanted to study each crease and wrinkle of his face. You wanted so desperately to count each of his freckles. “Was there really no one else?”

“God, no. There was only ever you.” 

You sighed, the weight of the past slowly lifting off of you. You couldn’t fully trust him, and you knew you could never go back to before. But your heart still screamed for him. It still longed for him. “I wish you didn’t lie to me.”

“Me too.”

Your thumb continued to stroke his soft skin. It was dangerous to be so close. You and Mike knew it. But, it felt right. It felt natural. It felt like two lost puzzle pieces were finally fitting together.

A text notification pinged throughout the room, echoing in the silence. You quickly pulled away and cleared your throat. Mike's eye twitched as he grabbed his phone off the counter. The color in his face drained quickly.

“Shit- It’s Jane.” 

You sighed and looked away from him. “Okay. I should… Go, anyway.”

“Hold on- I’ll walk you out.” He stood up, speed walking to his front door. Before you stepped out, you quickly turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed your chest against him, breathing in his cologne. 

He hesitated slightly, worried you would turn to dust if he dared to touch you. After a heartbeat, he gave in. You stood in his doorway, his face tucked into your neck, yours pressed against his chest. His heart beat against his ribs, matching the flutter of yours.

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the apartment hall caused you to tear away from Mike's embrace. 

Clapton stood in the hall, a shopping bag in his hand.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

The room was filled with awkward silence, unspoken apologies, and a tension you couldn’t cut with a chainsaw. Clapton sat on your couch, paralleling your earlier conversation with Mike. He sat there, his leg bouncing up and down quickly.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Clapton quickly cut you off. “I know.”

Bewildered, your eyebrows raised and wrinkles appeared on your forehead. “You- What? Know what?” “That you,” He swallowed. “Used me. I ran into Mike at 7-Eleven yesterday. He told me he moved in next door.”

Your eyes were wide, and guilt began gnawing at your stomach. “Clapton- I- I’m so sorry…”

His eyes were soft, but his lips were downturned. “I get it. I’ve- had my moments like that. Trying to get back at an ex…”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, biting down on the plush skin. “You've sent glitter bombs over to someone's house and fucked someone so loud you dented your wall?” Clapton’s eyes widened and he chuckled.

“Well- I- That’s original.” Now it was your turn to laugh, though the sound felt hollow and insincere. He was right. You acted like a middle-schooler. For god's sake, you were a teacher. You were supposed to be the responsible one, the one guiding the next generation to success and maturity. But you were instead getting fucked at 3 am and sending prank packages to get back at an ex. The moment you had that revelation, a wave of nausea washed over you, twisting your stomach into knots. You were an awful, sad excuse of a fucking human.

Clapton's large hand suddenly resting on your shoulder grounded you, just slightly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing and your palms trembling ever so slightly. “You’re not mad?”

Clapton laughs, almost bitterly. “I mean- I was. But I’m just- disappointed mostly. I know how much you love- loved Mike, but did it have to be me?”

You clenched your jaw together and looked away, eyes focused on the world outside. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. As you shifted your focus back to him, you were drawn into the depths of his warm, brown eyes. You searched for an ounce of understanding.

“It’s… I get it.” Despite the disappointment and betrayal you saw deep in his irises, he still smiled. Clapton was always like that. He had always hidden how he truly felt behind sickly sweet words. “I still want to be friends.” Even with his lie about understanding what you did, you could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; he was sincere about being your friend. You felt relieved that he valued your friendship as much as you did his.

“I’d like that.” 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You were completely drained, every ounce of energy drained from your body. Having two heart-to-hearts with the most important people in your life weighed on you immensely. For now, all you wanted to do was sleep. You wanted desperately for your life to go back to normal, before Mike lied to you, before you almost wrecked your relationship with Clapton. Back when times were simple.

Despite the turmoil in your heart, a part of you was still glad. There was still hope with Mike. But, did you want there to be? The haunting doubts nagged at you: What if he lied to you again? What if he shuts down, reinforcing those walls that had torn you apart? The uncertainty tightened its grip, leaving you torn between yearning and fear.

Could you still love him after what happened? Did he still love you?

Even with the countless questions racing through your head, exhaustion took hold, and your heavy eyelids finally surrendered. For the first time in weeks, a rare calm washed over you, finally granting you a peaceful sleep.

[bonefall]

How are we feeling at the book finale? Because outside of the Sunbeam girlboss moment telling Berryheart just how bad of a family she was AND maybe possibly foreshadowing her rejecting Nightheart, I think we miiiight get some more Dark Forest cats than planned before :D (also I may be wrong but- didn't Podlight have children? Would he even be eligible as Medicine Cat in BB?)

Podlight's totally eligible in BB! He has no canon children and I didn't give him any. In BB there's also an interesting quirk in that Podlight is notoriously Mistystar's... not EXACTLY a good-for-nothing grandson, but a bit of a "fratboy" working through daddy issues. Is is extra funny for this cat to be a villain lmao.

Also: Better Bones RiverClan Family Tree

Anyway... my thoughts on the spoiler thread's ending. Mostly negative, unfortunately. I am really hoping that a lot of this is misrepresentation.

I've enjoyed every book of ASC that's come out so far, but if this thread is accurate, this is going to be the first one that I actively dislike. It sounds like there was a serious nosedive in quality.

ON THE ENDING; Park Cats, and The Berryheart Gathering.

Park Cats.

It is profoundly frustrating to me that we had TWO traveling books in this arc. Do they not know by now that traveling books are widely detested for a reason??

Frostpaw and Nightheart were AWAY FROM THE CONFLICT for most of this book, what the fuck?

The plot barely advanced at all. There's been one major conflict in this entire arc, the invasion of RiverClan, and we are 4/6ths of the way through without any other major battles. This is boring.

Riverstar is a major character through this bullshit, now with a magical perfect connection to Frostpaw through plot convenience so he can give her tutorial tips, because GOD FORBID we have a more grounded story for once. I'm so sick of DOTC fanservice. Was a super edition not enough?!

And speaking of Riverstar's Home, they pretty clearly ripped a lot of inspiration out of it. Frostpaw and Nightheart go on a journey with random human-related shenanigans before finding a cardboard cutout of a culture

I'm not gonna lie guys. I do not like the Park Cats. I HAVE TO SAY; It's a step in the right direction

They are not demonized. They are treated as good and legitimate. They are seen as having wisdom and living peacefully.

This is Good. This is Fine.

(im still kind of mad they needed riverstar to come save them back in riverstar's home, like every non-clan culture does apparently, but HOKAY fine ok it's fine)

.....butt.

They're boring. guys, they have one thing that is unique to them, and it's meditation. They live in perfect peace and harmony. there's nothing there.

It's easy to be a perfect, peaceful society if you have no conflict ever.

IF THE SPOILER THREAD IS ACCURATE, we don't see them address strife, how they DO handle disputes, what DOES happen when a cat engages in "criminality," or even really see what their spiritual beliefs are besides "meditating"

And that's why the idea of Frostpaw taking away a good lesson from living with them strikes me as so hollow. WHAT is she taking from them? JUST vague, quiet meditation?? Why couldn't Riverstar just magically teach her that?

It also bothers me that this culture is exactly the same as it was in Riverstar's Home. It's in stasis. Nothing has changed, nothing has grown, they haven't picked up new customs. They don't even seem to have their own history besides remembering that Riverstar showed up generations ago.

It's not a culture, it's a plot device.

I swear, I'm really trying to like them, but RH left this really sour taste in my mouth and them showing up again in this book has only made me more frustrated.

I AM happy that we're going to maybe start trying to address the violence of Clan Culture, but it is coming in the middle of a book where nothing fucking happens, and they're starting to fumble the bag on the xenophobic radicalization that I'd been praising in the past few books

And by that, I'm referring to...

Berryheart's Gathering

through the books so far, I've been praising the slow rise of tension coming from the radicalized members of ShadowClan.

I think the way that Berryheart and her little Concern Club had been slowly escalating in their bigotry and violence was (and remains) unironically fantastic.

We had started off with it just being a group to "discuss the issues," which evolved into active bullying and harassment, progressed into attempted murder, and we left off on the idea that Berryheart's Hate Group was planning something with RiverClan's murder party.

And we are reaching a turning point in that arc, the payoff of a long and well-laid escalation, with...

normal democracy.

berryheart and her supporters approach puddleshine reasonably with their concerns and intent to call for a vote to depose tigerheartstar. doing the thing the fucking code addition was made for

This comes AFTER Sunbeam has a Girlboss Moment telling off Berryheart for being a bad mom in front of the whole gathering and everyone claps, mind you, so this is clearly supposed to be the narrative's big "oooo consequences for Berryheart" moment

So anyway Berryheart brings up that they want tigerHeartstar deposed, and then Puddleshine's like "haHA THIS WAS A ROUSE"

"Actually I only told you i agree to point out how this code addition can be exploited over a disagreement with ONE issue!!!!1"

i just...

im......

would Brokenstar training babies be One Issue? Would Bramblefake being a bully to his entire clan be One Issue? Would Leopardstar allowing Tigerstar to take over RiverClan be One Issue?

One Issue....

And MIND YOU I'm Pro-tigerHeartstar, actually, but the WHOLE fucking point of the rule is that you can depose someone who is not acting in the best interest of the Clans. Fym ONE ISSUE??

IT'S A BIG ASS ISSUE!

So anyway Berryheart is embarrassed in front of everyone, tigerHeartstar tells the group, "You're going to support me or get out of my Clan"

All of her supporters fall in line, but Berryheart chooses exile.

So Berryheart and her group isn't punished for the hate crimes, it didn't lead to anyone getting actually hurt, this faction of cats just settled back down and Berryheart alone was exiled for political opposition to occupation.

not the hate crimes

GOTTA STRESS

The hate crimes did not cause lasting damage, the radicalized group did not cause any violence at this gathering

Berryheart is exiled for political opposition to occupation.

The consequence she faces for the hate crimes was simply not having her son Spireclaw back her up because she caused trouble for Fringewhisker. Like it's on the same level as being a bad in-law and not ATTEMPTED MURDER BASED ON BIGOTRY

And tigerHeartstar, jesus christ

His consistent trait has been becoming unreasonable WHEN HIS FAMILY IS THREATENED. WHY are we tossing this out the window now?

I REALLY REALLY hope that the spoiler thread is misrepresentation, and tigerHeartstar didn't ACTUALLY exile her but said something like, "this is what we're doing. don't like it, leave. you don't have the votes"

SO FOR NOW; I'm going to reserve judgement on what the writers are doing with tigerHeartstar.

This seems like the exact sort of thing that may be worded in an inaccurate way

But that said,

I'm beside myself with disappointment in this turn of events. Why is this about legitimate political proceedings? Why did they make the CULMINATION of this arc about bigoted violence and radicalization a legitimate, peaceful attempt to use the process THEY JUST ADDED, FOR THIS EXACT PURPOSE?

Anyway, then it ends on a cliffhanger

Podlight claims to be the new medcat, pointed out as just being a political maneuver, to appoint Splashtail as the new leader.

Frostpaw watches on in shock and thinks about how bad it is that a murderer is now in charge of RiverClan, and how no one would believe her if she told them all now

I sure hope the next book contains something worth reading. like a fight or something. in the battle cat series. in the arc where theyre trying to say something about violence.

[mittysins]

Newt at Home

Includes: Trans mpreg, graphic labor and orgasmic birth

I'm so glad I was able to get this finished! First Mayternity, in the bag. Of course I needed to use Newt for this. I'm so proud that I've actually managed to complete a seasonal art piece. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

[FIND THE UNCENSORED ART ON TWITTER]

-------------

Okay, I'm not going to lie and say I'm not kind of freaked out. I'm standing in the kitchen wearing a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, quickly scribbling down the time in my notebook.

10:56 PM. I've been in labor for 10 hours, at least. I couldn't really tell at first, thinking the twinge in my lower abdomen was just Braxton Hicks. I ate my lunch and had a nap without a second thought.

Eventually I realized the pain wasn't going away, in fact it was introducing a new pressure in my hips that I was frankly not a fan of. Okay. So that’s how it is.

I started by emailing my professor. Just a vague mention of a family emergency, and that I was going to need an extension on an upcoming essay.

Continuing on, I sent a quick “baby’s on her way!” to the group chat where my friends were dicking around as they usually did. I laughed at their excited responses as I tapped my pen on the paper. Newest contraction started 43 seconds ago. I was doing just fine.

Then to get down to business. I blessed my past self for having half a mind to have everything ready a month beforehand. Everything I needed was in the bottom drawer of the baby’s dresser. A few old towels, a package of training pads, and settled neatly on top was a pair of sterile clamps and scissors within blue plastic packaging. I felt my heart skip a beat when I opened the drawer to set everything up. This was actually happening.

It was a waiting game from then on. Which is how I ended up here. My contractions are now 4 minutes apart and it's really starting to set in. My chest burns in a weird way, most likely a result of binding for years. I accepted the lung damage a long time ago, and it seems to be making itself well known as my breathing grows increasingly ragged. I can't quite keep my legs together anymore with that ever-present weight on my pelvis. It feels like something is about to give at any second. I assume it’s my water, honestly I figured it would have broken by now. I let out a long sigh as the contraction ends and set down the pen. I sway my hips as I flip through the notebook on the counter in front of me. Written on the first page is the date my pregnancy test was positive as well as a few phone numbers. I can still see a few splotches of faded numbers where my tears had mixed with the ink of my favorite pen. The next few pages were symptoms, weight, my medications including my testosterone gel. Everything medical. I was so scared all those months ago, it almost makes me anxious to look back on those pages. I prefer to look at the middle of the notebook, where I noted when I had gone a week without morning sickness, my first weird craving, the bizarre and vivid dreams I was having. My favorite was the page dedicated to name suggestions. All my friends took turns scribbling down names they liked, laughing and teasing each other as we crossed some out and circled others. It isn't too long before I flip to my current page and glance at my phone.

11:00 on the dot.

I bite my lip and continue my swaying with a firm grip on the counter. It hurts now. That's not to say it didn't hurt before, but now it's getting intense. Each clawing contraction feels like a band being tightened around my entire lower abdomen. It's enough to keep me tensed up with my head bowed for its entirety, until finally, finally, there's that give.

I let out a soft groan as my water breaks. It's not a huge gush like in the movies, more of like a gentle pop followed by a steady stream of fluid that lasts a few seconds. I take a moment to assess my situation. Pants need to come off, obviously, but after that? I couldn't quite decide. I weigh my options as I wattle back to my room and remove my sweatpants, tossing them into a laundry pile I'd designated to this whole ordeal. I could lay in bed with a pillow between my knees and just… wait. I quickly toss that option when I realize how little I've sat still since I even realized I was in labor. A shower sounds nice, the wetness between my legs is less than pleasant and the water on my back would be helpful. I could set up a spot on the couch, just throw down some waterproof pads and a towel or two and labor there, maybe get some last minute work done.

I tense up. Oh, now this is different. I subconsciously bend my knees a little as the contraction reaches its peak. The release of pressure when my water broke was heavenly, but the respite didn't last long. Instead the pressure returned, now bringing with it an intense fullness resting just at the base of my pelvis. I grimace as I feel more fluid trickle between my thighs. Shower it is.

I watch the clock switch to 11:04 as the contraction lets up.

It's a short walk across the hall to get to my bathroom. I realize how sensitive my nipples are when I peel off my shirt. I flush at the sound I make when the fabric drags, sending a jolt down my spine. I'm getting worked up and my heart rate quickens for a moment. I turn the faucet tab and slowly drag myself into the tub, letting the warm water run down my back and legs. For a few moments it feels like routine again. Just me and my baby. No college, no work, no bills, no angry parents. Just me, lowering myself to my knees in the shower, my baby burrowing dangerously low in my pelvis with the next contraction.

It's hard to keep track of time from then on. I'm sort of just zoning out a lot, concentrating closely with each new wave of pain and letting my mind wander in the steeply decreasing downtime. Eventually I’m talking aloud to her, telling her how loved she already is, that she can come on out when she’s ready, that I'm so excited to finally meet her. That I'm ready. My mindless blabbering stops when I feel a very sudden shift.

Before I realize it I'm openly groaning into the air with the gripping contraction. It all just got very real, and I can feel myself becoming frantic. The increase in pressure was maddening, and no amount of shifting and rolling my hips would relieve it. My last contraction was at most a minute ago. I don't have long at all. I decide to push, just the tiniest bit, at the end of the contraction. It's just a little shove, I don't even hold my breath. Just enough to try it out and get a feel for the sensation. If she’s coming, she's coming. If she’s not, what happens? I wait a little longer and try again?

Another timid nudge.

Yeah, she’s definitely coming.

As soon as the contraction lets up I turn off the shower and heave myself out to towel off. I almost want to jump out of my skin I'm so excited. A quick collection of my shirt, phone and towel and I’m waddling back into my room, haphazardly tossing them on my bed. I decide to wait until after the next contraction to climb up onto my bed and really get this show on the road. When I get a look at myself in the full length mirror near my dresser I have a chance to catch my breath. My taught belly has noticeably dropped, basically screaming to the world what was about to happen. I'm flushed and sweaty and my wet hair is still sticking to my forehead. I’m all out of sorts, but I couldn't care one bit what I look like right now. Baby couldn't care less either. That telltale tightening grips me again, and when it begs for me to push along with it, I deepen my stance into a half-squat and bare down.

It almost feels… good? It's a very odd sensation but it feels like such a release to finally get to work with the pressure instead of against it. Two firm pushes in front of the mirror and I decided my bed was there if I needed it. Instead, I swipe a training pad from the package and lay it down on the floor in front of the mirror before stepping onto it. And I wait. At this point I'm so eager to push it’s hard to focus on anything else. I slowly lower myself down to be half kneeling, one foot propped up to let my hips open. I suck in a deep breath, and just like that I'm stuck in a contraction and pushing so hard I see my face go red. Exhale, inhale, push like hell. So it goes.

It only takes a few good pushes to feel something hard and very noticeably large lodged in my birth canal. Between pushes one of my hands dips down and curiously prods at my lips. I don't know what I was expecting to feel, she’s definitely not there yet, but nevertheless I’m a lot more sensitive than usual. I feel perpetually slick now considering I've been leaking little by little for the last hour and a half. But that's not just it. The past twelve hours have been the most in-tune I've ever felt with my body, like we’re finally working towards the same goal of giving birth to my daughter safely and calmly. The excitement and the love mixed with the fullness of her head moving downward almost became ecstasy. One accidental brush to my sensitive clit and I'm shivering. The sudden rush of pleasure triggers a contraction and I weakly push through it. Once the contraction ends my fingers slip into my birth canal. I was disappointed for a moment when I didn't feel anything.

Until I did. About two and a half knuckles deep, there was the hard, slimy ball I had been working down for the past twelve hours.

Oh my fucking god, that’s my baby.

I was awestruck. Just allowing the pads of my middle and ring fingers to press against her head was enough to have me grinning like an idiot.

Returning my hand to its place on my knee, I bore down again with the upcoming contraction. This time a low groan escapes my throat and I find myself leaning forward just the slightest bit. Looking in the mirror, I become fixated on the bulge forming behind my lips. I'm leaking fluid considerably now, and I'm grunting out little pushes when I swear I see a dark sliver start to part my folds. I only saw it for a split second. My hand dips between my legs once more and I press a finger into my lips. Sure enough, just out of sight rests my baby’s head. The quick progress I made surprises me, and I let out a breathy laugh as I trace my fingers back up to my dick. The warm tingling in my belly when I rub a few experimental circles into the swollen nub quickly melts my grunts into soft moans. My breath quickens. I was expecting this to be horribly painful, yet here I am moaning with the next contraction. All I can focus on in the mirror is the sight of my lips parting for my baby’s head. I moan through the stretch of my perineum, letting my pleasure bring me higher as I watch my lips pull out into a teardrop shape.

My rubbing has found a steady pace, and my hips buck a bit. I'm close, I can tell, and I feel the head continue to push my lips open. That burn is starting to set in. Another firm push.

I almost yelp when the head stretches me to a full crown, but I find myself so awestruck by the sight that I fail to make any noise at all. My rubbing continues as there the head stays. The burn is searing. Until finally, the release of my orgasm carries me blissfully as the head surges forward with a gush.

I kneel there for a moment, legs shaking and eyes fluttering, as I process what just happened. The aftershocks distract me through the next contraction, giving me time to gather myself. I can see it in the mirror, my baby’s head hanging out of me as it's supported in my hands. A sob rips from my throat as my fingers wander, feeling her tiny ears and nose.

“Oooh-kaaaaay.” I breathe, shaking off the numb tingly feeling that accompanied my orgasm. My fingers fumble around the baby’s neck, quickly untangling the umbilical cord and pulling over her head.

After lifting myself up to standing, the short few steps that should have been my journey to my bed became a quest. I knew I had no chance of closing my legs at this point, so it's a slow shuffle making my way over with shaky legs and a hand between them to support my baby. Climbing up onto the mattress isn't much easier, but I eventually manage to sit up against my pillows, legs butterflied out. From there I wait.

“Come on, kiddo.” I encourage. “I’m ready, you can come out now.” I wiggle my hips and give a tiny push, trying to get her to turn.

Once she does, I'm all in. My hands find purchase behind my knees and I pull back, red in the face as I push as hard as I can for the shoulders. The way I'm sitting, I don’t even need the mirror to see. I watch as my swollen lips spread around the first shoulder, then the other with a small spurt of fluid, and then-

I barely have time to catch her as with the last push, the rest of the baby spills out with a gush.

“Oh my god-” I sputter out as I lift the infant to my chest. As soon as she touches my skin, she begins wailing. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I check her over with wide, misty eyes.

“You are just absolutely perfect, aren't you?”

I giggle at her squirming attempt to get comfortable. So that’s what’s been keeping me up at night.

The ache sets in quickly, and I make quick (quick enough) work of delivering the afterbirth, cutting the cord and making sure we were both cleaned up and warm. Once I'm in a pair of sweatpants and back with her on my bed, I lay her back down on my bare chest, opting for a light blanket to wear cape-style and cover us both. I'm absolutely awestruck.

“Alright, we’ve given your aunts and uncles enough emotional prep time, don't you think?” I say decidedly to the already-sleeping infant as I unlock my phone, quickly finding the “video call” button in the group chat.

I'm grinning like an idiot as three of my friends join the call at lightspeed, the other two following quickly behind.

“Guys, someone wants to meet you!”

[kanmom51]

Time to wrap up and close shop.

3 years.

That takes us back to when?

2020?

I guess it is time for me to say my goodbyes, accept that JM and JK are not together and that Tae and JK are married.

But...

Before I go, I guess I have a few questions...

Can't help but wonder when this happened and how exactly Tae agreed to marry JK after JK sucked on his soulmate's ear and tattooed his soulmate's name on his hand.

Was it before or after Tae's soulmate sucked on JK's neck and JK, his husband then already (?) paraded said hickey around for all to see, caressing it so lovingly and proudly?

Kind of wondering how this marriage is working back in 2020-21 with JK and JM living together.

So, Taekook married while JK is keeping on holding JM?

And bridal carrying JM in LV.

And telling JM he loves him out loud and the finger hearts.

Always the finger hearts.

Wow, what a show JK was putting on...

Talk about dedication.

Hiding out in a dark corner touching... JK probably knew the camera was coming, he had to. Same with his arm on JM's waist.

And talking about waists... was this really necessary?

And all these latest lives. It must have been Tae's way of supporting his soulmate. Must have been. No other explanation why his hubby would be acting like a love sick puppy every single time JM showed up in the comments, or dedicate a full 90 minute live to JM.

See that smile?

Definitely put on, and all for the love of his beloved husband, who, btw didn't publicly congratulate his soulmate himself for his first solo album, or for his record breaking achievements. Nope. He sent JK to do it for the two of them.

Ok, I guess the joke is over.

Because if I don't stop here there might just be some that will actually think I'm serious.

Taekookers are reeling. They are devastated and throwing punches in every direction possible.

This one, TKK being married for 3 years is a new one. Well, sorry, I lie. Not first time I've heard the marriage story. The 3 years is new. The level of delusion here is wow, hard to describe. The story I heard was of marriage in LV, adoption of 2 little American kids, living with Tae at home. Sorry, with Taekook at Tae's. These beautiful children they adopted in LV and are now raising together.

So yeah, there's that level of delusion.

Now with Taenni out and public we have new stories.

We have the denial, of course, with the stories about cosplayers, all disproven (these fuckers stooped so low they stole a woman's photos claiming her to be the Jenni cosplayer only for her to go public about it).

And then you have those that are still towing the line and claiming it's all a publicity stunt.

Cause yep, the 2 super popular idols in the 2 biggest Kpop bands in the world need to have a supposed relationship to boost either of their popularity and help their careers.

Fucking morons.

a. Seriously? These two need that to boost their publicity. These two rival companies working hand in hand to create this fake relationship going on for over 18 months to what? Have Tae go from 58.8 million followers to 58.9 million. Talk about a failure of such an elaborate plan... Lest we forget about the hate Jenni has been getting all this time from TKKs all this time. Definitley a publicity stunt.

b. I'm infuriated at how ignorant these people are. Because with even minimal understanding of Kpop culture they would know that for an idol to go public with a relationship there is a price to pay. Idols don't have the right to have private lives. They don't have the right to have relationships, especially not in the prime of their success. the very few who had gone public with their relationships in the past had done so before marriage. They apologised for having a personal life.

Moon Hee Jun, Taeyang, Chen, Bobby.

The fact that there are so few of them should be an indicator as how this really is not a career helping move.

Having a personal life, being in a relationship, being emotionally unavailable for your fans is not a publicity stunt in Kpop. It can be a career killer. And even if it doesn't kill the career, it definitley does not promote it, quite the opposite in the short run.

And Tae, well he's already paying a price. We already saw all the angry fan messages about how they were betrayed by him, about how he's supposed to be theirs. Putting him together with JK is an easy fix, it's not realistic, it keeps him available for them (well in their twisted minds).

So yeah, definitely not a publicity stunt.

And then you have those that are turning on him. Well on the whole maknae line, because why not? Why not bring JK and JM in on this if you can (especially JM, right)?

The ones that are mad that he is in an actual relationship with another woman, the scorned.

The ones that are now angry claiming the maknae line were queerbaiting.

Like wtf?

How in the fucking hell were TKK queerbaiting?

Real genuine affection for the others? Yes.

Fanservice? Heck yeah.

Tae is the king of fanservice and teasing and flirting with the members. He loooooves it. And some play along more than others. As a matter of fact JK is one of those that plays along the least. But again, TKKs lack the brain capacity to watch original content and see that.

The hugs and affection and closeness isn't put on. It's genuine.

As for JM and JK, well they aren't fucking queerbaiting. They are just literally f***ing.

When Taenni did this, went public (and again, this was their choice of doing, walking hand in hand by the Saines river, identifiable managers walking 5 steps behind, Tae stopping to give autographs to fans),

I knew this would come back to hit us too. But you know what? I don't mind it. I love Tae and Jenni for this. They are very brave, both could pay a price for it. Tae is literally telling us all, the industry and the fans, that his personal life takes precedent. I love him for that.

We talk about BTS being the trailblazers, and this is the start of it....I hope.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC questionnaire

Thanks to @elsie-writes here, here, and here, @illarian-rambling here and here, @willtheweaver here, @ceph-the-ghost-writer here, and @mysticstarlightduck here!

I've somehow been tagged more than this somehow, but this post is so long I've decided to cut it off here.

Rules: answer the questions as an OC, then leave three new questions for the people you tag!

Past questionnaires: masterpost for round one

Tagging @mk-writes-stuff @elsie-writes @katwritesshit @rickie-the-storyteller @cherrybombfangirlwrites

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

I have done all TSP characters I can answer for. Everyone else is not important enough for me to leave a response. SOTL doesn't have enough yet.

Under the cut: Tyler, Gwen, Liam, Noelle, Akash, Robbie, Sam, Ewan

#1- Tyler

Who is the most memorable person you've ever seen? Why are they so memorable?

“One guy I met a few years ago, Anathi. He was interesting. A little, uh, repressed due to having never really interacted with anyone for three years. Um. He was an ultimate, but like way taller than average, so also physically memorable. Haven't seen him in years though. So, anyway, did you know the human mind can never forget a face? And it also can't make up one, either. So, if you see someone you don't know in your dream, you have to have seen them on the street at some point!”

What stresses you out most?

“Stupid and lazy and incompetent people in charge. Like, who gave that idiot so much power? A bigger idiot??? So an even bigger idiot has even more power. Awesome. Fantastic. It sucks.”

What is your favorite holiday?

“Halloween. It is fun to dress up as whatever I want. And plan a decent costume with makeup. It also pisses off Medina. And Dr. Asghar. Those are always fun.”

Other Tyler: questionnaire one, two truths and a lie

#2- Gwen

What is the most important thing someone can receive?

“Love, friendship, support, compassion.... I think I will go with support. Support in all areas of your life I find important.”

What was your favorite age of your life?

“I like being twelve. But I miss being six. When my grandfather would read to me.”

How do you like your coffee (or tea)?

“Preferably, not at the same time! Haha. ... Did I tell you about that? Yeah, I accidentally made my coffee with a tea bag. It...was surprising, for sure. Awful, but I couldn't stop drinking it. May make it intentionally again. I usually just take my coffee with sweet cream.”

Other Gwen: OC in three, OC in fifteen, picrew, kiss, two truths and a lie, questionnaire one, OC interview

#3- Liam

What's your go-to beverage?

“Water. And I'm not saying that to be boring. It's just objectively the best beverage. It keeps you healthy, hydrated. Why waste money on carbonated garbage? Everyone should be drinking water. It does nothing but help you. Except people who are allergic to water, but that is an incredibly rare condition.”

What's the stupidest argument you've ever gotten into?

“There is literally no such thing as a stupid argument. However, I did get punched in the face when I lectured this one kid about how landings didn't count as steps. Of course, they do, but I thought it would be funny if I tried to convince him they did not. Apparently I pissed him off.”

How do you act when you're over-tired?

“I become more easy to distract. Overwhelmed, maybe anxiety. More reserved. I also start noticing my mistakes more. I also keep thinking I'm sick. That's much better than some. Think about it: I could be yelling and screaming at everyone. I could become an evil dictator. But I don't. I just affect me, and in the end, that's much better.”

Other Liam: questionnaire one, interview

What would you do if you found someone's wallet and ID on the floor with no one in sight?

#4- Noelle

“I would look at the ID and figure out a way to give it back to the person who lost it. Depending on where I am, I'd give it to proper authorities. At school, the front office. Police if I'm out. If all else fails, I suppose I could ask Lexi to teleport me to them.”

Can you swim?

“Of course I can. It doesn't make sense not to learn. My mom taught me when I was really young.”

If you were an animal, what would you be?

“What a stupid hypothetical question. I'm not a shapeshifter. *Sigh* Okay, fine, I'll try. Um... Owls represent intelligence so maybe that? I think I'm smart. Wolves are loyal to their family. I'd call myself that.”

Other Noelle: OC in three, OC in fifteen, Picrew, Bingo, questionnaire one

#5- Akash

What is your idea of a romantic date?

“Oh, man. Everything! Dinner and a movie. Holding hands as we walk through an art exhibit. Strolling or hiking through nature. The classic stuff! That reminds me... I need to plan something for Gwen... A bit nervous to ask her out, to be honest, but Robbie says she won't mind what we do as long as we're together. I dunno, man, first dates seem so crucial to get right.”

Can you be trusted to keep a secret?

“Yes. [Pause] I mean, I've kept my own, so I'd completely understand, and would respect your wishes. But just so you know, I hate lying. Despite doing it. But I fixed it! So yes, I can, but I'll hate every second of it. Although it will not make me feel guilty like it was when it was mine! But uh... Don't ask me to keep it from Robbie... Y'know what? Don't tell me. Sorry.”

What is one thing that makes your blood boil?

“Well, uh... I hate not getting respect. It's not like I think I'm entitled to it, but... I do still want it. People with no compassion for each other, it... It pisses me off a little. I hate seeing it.”

Other Akash: OC in three, OC in fifteen, Picrew, kiss, questionnaire one, two truths and a lie

#6- Robbie

Which weirdly specific superpower would you prefer: ability to cook eggs in any manner and have them turn out perfectly, or ability to always recommend a piece of media someone else will enjoy?

“Eggs. Gonna be honest, I almost want the second one, but I can already do that! I have excellent tastes. Although maybe that is, like, a superpower or something and it would go away when I get the eggs power. Hm. Eggs because I genuinely also want to help my mom out in the kitchen. I mean, I can already make eggs, but I get overwhelmed most of the time, so I stick to scrambled just so I know I'm doing it right. So yeah, eggs. If my media powers go away, I don't care, because I'll still love my stupid cartoons.”

Most awkward conversation you've ever had?

“Oh, God. Why. Why must you make me remember this?? Sooo I had this playhouse I went to as a kid. One of my friends there was this girl Ava. We went to that playhouse for years! And one day, she came to my seventh grade play on The Secret Garden. I was hanging with Akash and another kid in the play, Bryan. Ava comes up to us after the play to congratulate me and say hi. And then I said, 'Bryan, let me introduce you to my old friend...' and then I blanked for a solid 17 seconds on her name. It was awful. I said, 'Ava' at the same time Akash did to cover for me. It was... So bad. I tried to pass it off as me being overly dramatic with a pause and that I wanted Akash to say her name at the same time. But. I think she knew.”

How accurate do you think your zodiac sign is?

“Apparently, I'm a Taurus. And according to Google... This is literally not me at all. Like, it says I'm super sensual and grounded. [Pause] Me. Sensual and grounded! What even?!”

Other Robbie: OC in fifteen, OC in three, Picrew, two truths and a lie, questionnaire one

#7- Sam

What is your favorite drink?

“Ooh, lemonade! I love lemonade!! I always wanted to have a lemonade stand actually. I like all kinds of lemonade. Canned or homemade or whatever!! I usually have a can after dance class.”

Do you know how to dance?

“I do! I'm in a class that I go to weekly! We do ballet and tap dancing. It's so fun! I could dance all day long!”

What would make you never forgive someone?

“I'm not sure. I like moving on and pretending the bad stuff didn't happen. But I guess... If a friend did something awful to another.”

Other Sam: questionnaire one

#8- Ewan

What is your favorite small nature item? Pinecones, rocks, leaves, seashells?

“I like rocks. I have a rock collection. I think it's pretty cool.”

Do you have a go-to or favorite idiom?

“Huh. I've literally never thought of this before. I guess I like 'cross the bridge when we get there.' It's kind of a mantra for me. Worrying about the future, y'know? I don't like waiting until we get there to cross the bridge. I want to be prepared to cross the bridge. At the same time... I'm bad at preparing cause I'm not proactive. So I use the idiom to get out of the stuff I don't want to do now. I have a complicated relationship with this idiom....”

What is your favorite fruit?

“No, don't make me choose!! I guess... Cantaloupe. You probably weren't expecting that.”

Other Ewan: questionnaire one, kiss

Your questions:

What's the last thing you replaced, and why did you have to replace it?

Where's a place you've been that you felt out of place?

Do you trust your instincts?

[therealvinelle]

Why do you think fanfic writers lie in their fic tags? Like, a fic itself contains several semi-graphic depictions of het sex, and yet the tag is Gen. What is the thought process behind doing shit like this?

They're sick fucks, that's why.

To be more serious: I think few people set out to intentionally deceive their readers, and the ones that do usually want readers so badly they forget themselves. Genuine bad actors are rare, or so I choose to believe.

As it is, I suspect I'm a misleading tagger myself, at least to some.

The way I treat tags is as warnings, so I will tag ships featured in my works even if they're one-sided, background, or in the past because that way people who don't want to see that ship know to avoid my story. Edward/Carlisle and Jacob/Renesmee getting tagged in my fic Bleach on the Brain is an example of this: sucks if you clicked on the fic because you're a shipper but the way I see it, sucks worse if you don't want to see those and now you're reading a fic with father/son incest and a guy in his mid-twenties grooming a child in it. If I hadn't done this, if I'd only kept the pairings which were depicted positively, then the negative tags in that fic (grooming, sexual assault, etc) would have been assumed to be related to those and someone else would have been upset with me.

I tag this way because @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin learned the hard way (i.e.: got hate) that tagging only for endgame will get a lot of people very mad at you, but now A/B shippers have fics depicting their ship negatively. It's a losing game.

So that's bringing me to a major reason why I think misleading tags happen (which gets a headline so I can tell myself this post is structured):

People have different ideas of how works should be tagged

Some people want to tag for everything that happens in the fic. Literally everything, if it's a smut you know exactly what goes where just from reading the tags.

This also means they might tag characters who appear only briefly in a scene in chapter 35 (the fic having 56 chapters so far and being 500k+ long), because hey, the character appears. Or maybe they're brought up a lot and are very important to the fic even if there's not much actual screentime, so a character like Voldemort gets tagged in a Harry Potter fic focused on the war without him actually appearing all that much.

On the opposing side you have the minimalists. They tag the main two characters and put three more in the additional tags so it won't go in the character tag, and add a ship tag some 30 chapters in. There are two additional tags, both are very vague. If that - I've seen people who don't tag at all, or who just tag with a single character, or just the ship - it really is up to the individual.

I've noticed the type of author (whether Ao3 was their first platform, how much time they spent elsewhere, whether it's an imported fic, and how old the author is) and the type of fic (how old it is, the author's background, and genre (oneshot, drabble, multi-chapter, 5+1, etc.)) influences tagging.

Common to all authors, though, is they try to tag as they feel is appropriate for their fic.

Which brings me to the next issue:

How do I tag?

A lot of people are confused about this.

They're confused about what tags mean - what's freeform (I honestly keep forgetting what this one is supposed to be too), when something should be tagged, what belongs in relationship or character tags vs. additional tags, what additional tags are supposed to be.

Do you, for that matter, try to explain your story in the tag ("this is a roommate AU with feelings") or do you tag succinctly ("roommate AU", "feelings", "fluff") or a combination? A lot of authors seem to prefer the first and last options, from what I can tell it's become the norm. Most authors seem to use the additional tags to connect with the reader in this way, and so you get people placing more emphasis on the additional tags than the succinct tags.

How do I tag? Sensibilities section

Then there's the question of sensibilities: what's triggering to reader A may be great stuff to reader B, with the author not realising it could be triggering to anybody and should have been in the tags, or the author thought knees brushing against each other warranted big red warnings that "they literally had sex, oh god this is so dirty. so dirty!! can't believe i wrote this. ENTER AT OWN RISK" which of course is very disappointing to the sick fucks who wanted porn.

Or the opposite happens: the author knows the subject is triggering, which means people might not click on the fic, and they want attention so badly they ah weasel out. Or option three: the author can't tag without spoiling the story, and so they either put "creator chose not to use warnings", don't rate it, and let the readers enter at their own risk or they use tags uh strategically (have a look at how I tagged Nebuchadnezzar's Dream to avoid spoiling the bloody coup d'état that happens at the end. Today I simply would have gone for no warnings and no rating, but those tags are also a solution which I think is... alright, I suppose "massacre" could have been added but it was entirely off screen so to me would have been an abuse of the tag).

In other words, everyone will be tagging differently and sometimes it's because they've no clue which tag is warranted, sometimes they're trying not to spoil their story, sometimes they didn't realise they should or shouldn't have tagged for something.

Anthologies (when someone posts their oneshots as chapters of a story)

These used to frustrate me endlessly, until I saw a "how to help readers find your fic!" post explaining that with anthologies, your readers get a notification every time you post a new oneshot and it's easy to find them all!

Which, in retrospect, is the most fanfiction.net statement I've ever seen (indeed, OP was an old ffnet dog).

Ao3 allows collections, and is unique in this: to older fandom people, putting your thematically connected oneshots together as chapters of a story used to be how it was done, having 54 connected drabbles on your fanfiction.net profile where readers couldn't filter them out nor select to view only the drabbles put together made perfect sense. And then they never adapted to Ao3's features, and other users seeing these anthologies copied the action because hey, stats.

I'm still frustrated with these people and wish they would just post their oneshots individually, but I think a lot of them are just... really really keen on the numbers on their fics going up, and not thinking about the purpose of the archive, utilising its features, nor that they're making their oneshots harder to find and annoying a lot of people.

The tag difficulty with anthologies, of course, being that if you have two oneshots in it, one with characters A and B and you tag it for X and Y happening, the other oneshot is with characters C and D and you tag it for Z and W happening, and continue like this for 30 chapters, then you have a wall of tags so everyone will see your story, good on you, but your readers have no way of knowing what's happening in your story or to which characters, and they're either patient enough to click their way through every goddamn chapter or they just scroll past your thing. Either way you're cloying a looot of tags and the readers who wanted Z and W happening to A and B are pissed because they clicked their way through god knows how many chapters only to not get what they wanted (and now they don't like anthologies either).

(Disclaimer: sometimes drabbles or oneshots are so interconnected that it doesn't make sense to separate even on Ao3, so to every rule there's an exception.)

In conclusion

Most authors are making tough choices when tagging, or they don't know how to tag, or they want readers very badly (and what you as a reader can do to ameliorate this is to comment and kudos frequently! Even give positive notes in the bookmarks when you make a new one because believe me we check!).

Or they're writing an anthology, in which case you should be very skeptical about those tags.

[officialpenisenvy]

hello i'm the guy who is transgender but whose dad kept calling a guy and beating for acting gay for some strange reason and i have another confession composed of semi-interlinked stories that came up mostly because i've been off work the past week. the first is i've been hooking up with this closet case i work with and a few days ago i found out the story he's been telling his neighbour who saw me coming home with him a couple of times is that i'm his sort-of-estranged son and that's ok, except i need to hold up my end of pretending to be his son so they don't know he's fucking me, but i hate my real dad so bad that i now fantasise about killing this guy a lot and i don't know how to tell him, and i also don't think the lie is very successful because i was chatting with his neighbour yesterday and she looked at me kind of concerned and said are you and your father close? and i really don't know how to navigate this situation. secondly i've been having late night inebriated conversations with my brother because i told him to read marx and he listens to me so now he's reading marx and reporting his thoughts and a big problem that has come up is he keeps calling me dad, on accident, and he doesn't notice he's doing it unless i make a face, and if i do he starts crying because he's sort of a baby that way, but i can't tell him to cut it out because then i WILL be like my dad. thirdly my mom keeps calling me by my dad's name when she's mad at me and accusing me of avoiding her because i have an oedipus complex which is a crazy thing of her to say but let's not get into that. fourth point is my youngest cousin, the brother of the cousin i was obsessed with as a kid who molested me, is now having his own obsession era but with me, and it's a similar sort of age differential and all, and he's this gay sort of barely-started-puberty kid with no boundaries who's doing the whole "do you think i'll have a voice like yours, can i feel your stubble, wow you're so hairy, do you have a girlfriend? you're gay? what's it like?" thing, so i feel a bit sick partly because of the memories and partly because i don't like acknowledging that i'm gay, which isn't his fault also his stiff is pretty normal early pubescent derangement i think, but i feel crazy, and maybe i live in hell or soemthing all things considered. on an unrelated note you've inspired me to revisit my lz records so i've remembered i generally speaking like them but i think a lot of the magic is lost when listening to their studio albums vs live albums/bootlegs, even being that a lot of the lz official live recordings are kinda off-days for robert plant. but i'm really into whole lotta love version that's on how the west was won... i stole the album from my dad when my parents separated and i spet so much time listening to it on repeat that it now appears to be a fundamental building block of my psyche even though i'm not that into lz all things considered. i hope the rest of your day is good!!

SO much going on here. i think you need to kill your entire family and disappear in the woods with a record player (to listen to led zeppelin on). also i think you should call the guy you're fucking dad during sex and take it from there

[paleneckauthorcowboy]

This is the next fic in the timeline, c!Kestin is in a new invirment and he's not doing great. TW!! Discussion of a toxic relationship, HABIT just being HABIT, brief implication of death.

I'm alive, I don't know how or why but I am. It's been a few weeks since I woke up here in New Jersey. I was found in the middle of the woods by a kind man, his name is Evan. He brought me back to his place, which is where I am staying now. Evan said that I could stay as long as I need, at least until I can get back up on my feet.

He's a total sweetheart; I mean, he checks up on me a lot and asks me about my day. He's one of the kindest men I've ever met, not to mention that he's kind of a goofball. He seems to go out of his way to try and make me laugh. It just feels like I could talk to him for hours and never get tired of it. 

He seemed very curious about my past, rightfully so; I mean I am technically just some guy that he found passed out in the middle of the woods. Despite all of his questions about my life before, I always just gave generic answers, never daring to go into any detail, out of fear that if he knew that he'd just think I was crazy and make me leave. But, things can change so fast; whether I like it or not.

I had been feeling pretty awful almost all day, not due to anything Evan had done. I just couldn't get out of my own head and just kept thinking about the past. I could get HIM out of my mind, the him in question being Alex. My now Ex-fiance, it hurt a lot to look back on his actions with my rose colored glasses removed, I could see every little thing I missed. Did he truly love me or was what he did just a clever ploy to stop further infection of the operator sickness? Would he have actually killed me if I hadn't done it myself? 

I'm fairly certain that anyone within a 12 mile radius could tell that I was upset, especially Evan or at least who I thought was Evan. He playfully nudged me, trying to get me to look at him or look at something that he was doing. "Evan... please I'm really tired, so could you please stop it." I spoke in a slightly serious tone, as much as I love his antics; I just don't have the energy for it right now. 

I feel his fingers on my cheeks and his palm under my chin, I tense very noticeably at the sudden touch but do nothing. I then feel him abruptly squeeze my face and yank it towards him, essentially forcing me to look at him. "I'm not Evan... also, don't you think it's a bit rude to lie, sweetheart?"  He asked what felt like a condescending tone, or like he was trying to scare me. Unfortunately, panic responded before I could think. I pushed him off of me with a rough shove. He fell off of the couch with a loud thud.

I felt instant regret as my mind raced, "Oh my gosh... I'm so- I didn't- sorry I just- I'm sorry.." I couldn't seem to string together a fully comprehensive sentence, my own distress causing anything I say to come out faster than my brain could process. I was trying to reach out for him, but I only got about half way until I pulled back; planting my hands into my lap, as if to stop myself from causing any additional damage. 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that... I just- didn't think before I acted." I did my best to explain, I felt my hands shaking, but I wasn't scared of him hurting me, I could handle that. What I'm really scared of is him hating me or even just simply being mad at me. "I'm sorry.." I apologized again, my throat burned as I swallowed hard; doing everything in my power to not let the hot tears pricking at the corners of my eyes fall. "Woah, come on don't get you boxers in a bunch. It's fine, I'm not mad." He broke the awkward silence, trying to lighten the mood.

"Okay, I'm sorr-'' before I could finish my sentence he put his finger up to my mouth and shushed me. "Hun, you apologize way too much." He smirked at me, although his tone sounded a little bit annoyed. When he called me hun, it almost made my heart skip a beat, but at the same time it... hurt. "Please don't call me 'hun', I only really let people I'm close to call me pet names." I very gently pushed his hand away, looking him in the eyes with a semi serious look. 'His eyes are really pretty.' I thought to myself. 

Then I internally panicked at 'no no fuck why?' Do I like him? I think I do but I'm not sure. I looked away from him, focusing my gaze on the floor. "Well, then we need to get to know each other and get close. I'm Habit, I'm the demon who possesses your little boyfriend, and you don't need to introduce yourself, I already know who you are." He replied still with that smirk on his face, he leaned in close to me. I instinctively lean back and put my hands up, ready to push him back again.

"What- he not my boyfriend! We're not- I mean that's not to say I don't like him- like he's cute- I mean... uhh I don't know, I just know we're not dating!" I felt my stomach tighten, words once again fell out of my mouth before I really thought about what I was saying. "What I'm hearing is that you like him. Why not just go for it?" Habit asked, leaning in closer. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back, just hard enough for him to get that I was uncomfortable.

"Because- I don't know I'm just... not ready to enter another relationship." I didn't even realize what I said until I heard Habit chuckle. "Another relationship? What? did you just have a bad breakup?" He seemed just be joking around but it was enough to push me over the edge. The dam broke and I felt warm tears stain my cheeks. He stopped laughing, just staring at me with a look that said 'oh shit, I didn't mean to do that.' 

"Oh, I'll take that as a yes. Uh, sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, awkwardly patting my shoulder. I just broke, I couldn't hide how I felt, or the things that I went through anymore. "I just got out of a pretty unhealthy relationship just before Evan found me.. it wasn't always bad. It was just the time around the end of the relationship that was... not great." I spoke crossing my arms over my chest, Habit looked at me, waiting for me to continue. 

"He... my Ex-fiance... was kind of extremely manipulative and ended up isolating me from any other support system other than him... and then he kind of walked away for a bit, leaving me completely isolated. He also kind of was insane..." I explained Habit didn't look happy, understandably so. "So, he cut you off from everyone you loved and just left you alone? He sounds like a real piece of shit." He said through gritted teeth. I just looked down. "Yeah, I guess. He wasn't alway like that though, he used to be kind of sweet." I mumbled to myself, Habit shook his head. 

"The reason I can't just 'go for it' is because I know that I'm not over my ex, it wouldn't be right to start a new relationship when I'm still thinking of someone else. I'd only possibly hurt him and myself in the process." I explained further, Habit nodded. "That's understandable." He shrugs and stands up before plopping back down on the couch. "I... I do like him. I just need time to process what I feel and what I've gone through before I try to do anything." I got up and sat on the couch as well. Calming myself down.

 "I understand that and so does he. We are more than willing to wait for you for as long is needed. I promise you." He put a hand on my shoulder and I tensed up, he noticed almost immediately and tried to retract his hand. I grabbed it and gave it a nice squeeze. "Thank you, I don't think you understand how much that means to me." He squeezed my hand back, "my pleasure." We just sat there holding each other's hand for a little while.

They kept true to their promise and stayed right by my side for my entire journey of healing. And, when I was finally ready. I asked both Evan and Habit out, but that's a story for another day. For now I'll just enjoy my own version of happily ever after.

[jetlagface]

January 2nd 2025

I thought maybe it would be good to start a blog going into the new year and although I slightly missed the launch date, I hope you will still have me.

I've kept a journal every year since middle school and I'm going to think of you as a continuation of those but hopefully I will find myself being more honest. Eventually, I hope somebody does some sort of study that explains why we lie when the audience only has us in it but for now I am going to make an effort.

Right now it's 7:29 am and on any other day, I would have already been at work for forty minutes and about to clock in for my nine-hour shift. That has been my routine since the start of October and I am trying not to make a habit of calling off whenever the voice in the back of my head tells me to yet here I am for the fourth time in twenty days.

I send a hesitantly typed-out message to my director and then spend the next hour convincing myself it was okay to not go in today.

I still want to attempt to stay awake so I started you and then I hope to write something else that will make me feel better about sitting in my bed for two days straight on the first days of the new year.

If all things go according to plan than this year will be so jam-packed I won't even have time to breathe so I think it wont be the end of the world if I get some rare rest in now.

Maybe we could do monthly updates on specific sections so it is easier to keep track of where I'm standing without needing to read every single entry I manage to get in (that to say I do this more than once or twice).

Romance might be the most prominent to start with because, for the first time in my two decades and some change years on earth, I actually have something worth note. I've been sabotaging it in my head already for the better part of a month but still haven't managed to completely ruin it so I'm taking that as a good sign.

Guy is everything I could have asked for and although I feel like it probably wasn't as planned that I end up with a man, I suppose it was going to be him if it was anybody. There isn't anything to complain about right now except for the fact my humor doesn't translate over text and neither does his cuteness, not to mention he is still my brothers best friend which is a hurdle I've only started to eyeball the size of.

I've always had a bitter taste in my mouth that I spent my life reading and writing stories with smooth romantic dialogue and dilemmas that just didn't seem to happen to real people, wasting my time on nonstop daydreams and fantasies that were simply from other peoples overactive imaginations. I tell you it feels good to be wrong.

He is nice to me and he likes me more than I like him which I think is a very wonderful thing. Selfishly I'm going to add that he is tall and handsome which helps his case and let me not gush too much because I still haven't figured out how to do it without feeling ridiculous.

Maybe next month. I will see him again in about two weeks and it'll be our first time really seeing each other since we transitioned to whatever it is that we are doing and then we have a large trip in February that I imagine will mark the official of something, anything.

Work category is going shockingly well despite my recent burst of calling off and there isn't much to report on. I like my job despite my humanly complaints and most importantly, I think I'm good at it. There is a few areas I need to spend more time in but past that I am happy that I like it because I was starting to think I would be a miserable worker forever.

I had a few more categories I wanted to touch on but I am starting to feel performative again so I think I will go ahead and call it here for now. I hope to talk soon because I am sick of always leaving you behind, maybe this year I will start to figure out who exactly you are.

More on that later.

Happy 2025 to us.

[saintmouthed]

dtcfdp chapter 3 (author commentary)

I fear it is time to Reread dtcfdp Again and I'm going to be so annoying about it, actually. Anyway I'm gonna basically reread my own fic and liveblog the experience. Chapter 3 commentary starts under the cut!

chapter 1 commentary here

chapter 2 commentary here

"It wasn’t until he got out of the shower that he realized somehow he’d made it home with Ange’s jacket."

Right off the bat this made me smile so big. Yes... his jacket... I had NO motivation to have R take Enjolras's jacket... none at all

Hey, sweetheart, how are you feeling today? Ange.

oh my OWN heart jumped at sweetheart this time around.

That sounds like something someone just trying to make me feel better would say. R. I wouldn’t lie to you, I’m being honest. But, is it working? Ange. Grantaire thinks about this. A little. R.

they make me SICK (in the best way)

“What, you think I don’t have a key to this place?” That’s not something that had ever occurred to Grantaire. “Oh.” He says, after a thoughtful moment. Éponine laughs at him. “Bossuet let me in before he went to class, dipshit.”

LMAO this is so fucking funny I completely forgot about this. I don't reread this chapter often so this is like experiencing a whole new fic. Though I don't remember why I don't reread this chapter often? Is it the trivia one? that might be why. More on that later if it is the trivia one.

“Well…” Joly, at least, looks a little abashed. “It might have been…Enjolras?” “Enjolras?” Éponine gasps, before bursting into laughter. “Are you fucking kidding?” God, Grantaire is completely lost. “You know this guy?” “Yeah.” She waves a dismissive hand, as if he has any idea what she’s talking about. “We’ve met, obviously, and I went to a few meetings. Joly, are you serious?”

HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT THIS ADFASDFJ... "are you fucking kidding" it was so funny having everyone be like 'oh yeah grantaire you'd HATE enjolras' meanwhile grantaire is already sickening in love with him

OH MY GOD IT'S THE ROPE BITE NIGHT CHAPTER...

if you haven't read the Enjolras ficlet I wrote for this one or the Jehan ficlet... you should

aw... Grantaire learning to tie a futomomo... me too buddy

Ange rolls his eyes. “I trust you haven’t traumatized one of our newest members yet, Jehan?” “I leave frightening the newbies to you, my dear, that’s usually your area of expertise.” Grantaire wonders which one of them picked up the casual pet names first.

I'm OBSESSED WITH THEM

wow props to past me for writing that rope demo so beautifully damn

oh god... it IS the trivia one

I've seen the rope twist one before IRL it IS mean

CHEERS I DO LOVE A ZIPPER THOUGH

“How would you drop a raw egg from a height onto a concrete floor without cracking it?” Ange asks, blithely ignoring R’s commentary. “You…can’t?” “It takes more than an egg to crack a concrete floor, darling.”

an anon sent me this one back in the day!!! I love this... and I loved reading about the first zipper getting ripped off tbh.

the thing I don't like about the trivia chapter is that it's another of those threads I never followed through bc there was simply SO MUCH going on in this fic. And the Gutenberg question makes me cringe, but that's another story LMAO.

THE ROPE AS A FLOGGER WHO CHEERED. I saw this in a video once and it made me feel insane.

Grantaire either A. shrieks or B. blacks out (though there is that last possibility C. which is both)

Real as fuck grantaire

WAIT FUCK IS THIS THE PHONE NUMBER everybody hang on

FUCK

IT IS

freddyfromnicarlycheering.gif

“It’s…” Ange hesitates on the last character, felt tip of the pen stilling on Grantaire’s skin for a brief moment before he follows through. “My phone number.”

OH MY GOD

“I mean, it’s—it’s still nothing. I mean, not nothing, it’s definitely, uh, something.”

sure is !!!

this chapter was good actually idk why I tend to skip it

[crimsonblackrose]

.

Poor Miggy looking for Sam.

And of course they're fighting. Sam, just listen to Tory would you. (I know she's having a rough time.)

Both Miguel and Robby need like body armor for the Tory Sam fights.

I also think it's funny that they keep doing this and it literally never works.

Sam yelling that Tory's been working with Kreese. Like a lot of conversation was listened to before Sam went on offense.

Oh hey at least both girls left without any damage, and neither Robby or Miggy got hurt, so actually progress.

I also like the way they meet up after both girls leave and are like wait did you know about this? No, no idea.

UGH it's literally been maybe 4 weeks max since Carmen is considered pregnant, the baby would not be that big. It for sure wouldn't have features.

Johnny wouldn't know that, but Carmen for sure would.

Carmen's doctor is Dr. Howard.

Johnny remembers where they parked, "Punch twice, p2"

Carmen says "Lawrence-Diaz" and Johnny likes it and cue Silver.

Silver got in on 3, quite possibly another hint of him being sick/dying or something.

"To congratulate you. What you and your partner have accomplished is a joy few get to experience." Johnny: Who told you about the baby.

Silver says he's doing everything for their future and his own, and tells Johnny to savor every moment before it's gone.

Which sounds like a threat, but I mean if he's dying it could be like Tommy's note.

Daniel wants to go to the portugese place on Laurel.

Louie wants to plan it and use it as an away to apologize for blowing up his car.

Reggie can hook Louie up with a free limo.

Johnny says there has to be dancing because Carmen loves dancing.

Louie told them to dress nice and he'll pick them up at 8, they don't all live together bud.

Anoush has a date.

Demetri to Hawk: Never let me miss a house party again.

Bert says he's friends with Stingray and stingray wouldn't lie to him.

Robby walking into Cobra Kai to apologize, Robby is so freaking brave. "I let you down. I turned my back on you. I didn't understand at the time but I realize now I was wrong. I shouldn't have just left.

Like he knows Silver kicked his sensei's ass, beat the tar out of Daniel. He knows Kreese was in prison, that his guy beat Stingray into a coma and was like yeah, I'm going to waltz in and tell his students I'm sorry for leaving them behind here.

Robby is a badass.

There is pain in this dojo because it's built upon fear, because this man is not your sensei, he is your enemy.

Tory shouldn't have nodded, Kim saw it.

Reggie's ride or die.

And this is Reggie:

Chozen has to remove all his weapons, he keeps sai's in his jacket pockets. But he'll at least get to pick them up again when he leaves.

Johnny looks around to see what he should order, sees a white claw, tries it, spits it out, says "It tastes like watermelon took a piss." and then shrugs and takes another sip

The LaRussos order a ketel martini, straight up, Macallan 18 neat and Chozen says no drink. He wants to stay ready in case Silver attacks.

Chozen orders a long island iced tea

Louie omg

Louie shows up with a tray full of shots "Oh, i've got shots kids" and gives this look to Johnny

when he says this stuff is strong, almost like a kick to the face.

They all cheer in Okinawan Karii

Stingray is hosting dungeons and dojo's games where he's the DM

he's the worst dojo master. Apparently, all of the party or at least most of the party died.

Everyone is gluten intolerant so he's not sure whose at the door.

His whole D&D group leaves past Bert.

Miyagi-fangs, oh this is a trap, you admiral ackbar-ed me.

Carmen points out that if Chozen was using fake weights wasn't he scamming himself out of money and not the villagers?

I like Daniel using Chozen's words against him. "No, I will get" in a very jokingly angry voice. Mimicking Chozen.

Amanda: That dance floor is calling my name. Carmen: Mine too. Amanda: Come and get it girl.

Carmen asks if Johnny is coming to dance with her but he looks at Chozen drinking his long island alone and tells her he'll catch the next one.

Dude truly knows what it's like to be alone, and probably to be an extra wheel with couples and doesn't want Chozen left fully alone.

Chozen asks Johnny how he's doing. Johnny: Honestly? I'm not sure.

Johnny says his whole life has been haunted by one stupid kick.

dodge it, block it, his life would be fixed. The kick wasn't the problem he had to stop focusing on what was behind and start looking at what was right in front of him.

Chozen says We are same. Both make mistakes. Both feel guilt for pain we caused. Now you have, uh, friends. family, children. I always wanted same things.

Ugh the thing that Terry started with Daniel but now stone. Someone please save her.

"it's solid stone, I will break my hand" "it will heal in time for the tournament"- Kim

Tory tries to leave, "I'm going home." and three of Kim's hench- sensei's literally block her path.

"I broke up with him because of this dojo you bitch." literally breaks the stone behind Kim. You go girl, but also owie.

"That must've been a hard decision."

They literally all leave Tory there curled up on the mat bleeding.

in another universe this was Stingrays D&D group

If I tell you what really happened he'll find out. I can't. It's not that easy you guys.

And then he realizes he can just tell a story instead. "I've been working on this new D&D campaign" and Miguel is like okay we don't have time, but Eli gets what Stingray is up to.

Stingray is a dwarven monk

and he pretty much says he'd give up everything he got if he could, after all the silver haired king nearly killed the monk. And his voice trembles when he says it and Bert I think catches how bad it really was.

Stingray wanted to be a proud and nobel warrior like Sam and Hawk but he's neither proud nor noble and not a warrior either. He's just really scared. He apologizes.

Sam leaves upset that she didn't get the info she needed. She's frustrated because if she had know, then the dojo wouldn't have had to close, maybe her and Miguel wouldn't have broken up. Just a lot of painful what if's.

Miggy pointing out that Tory telling them what happened must've been so hard. Sam doesn't know what it's like to be a part of Cobra Kai, but Miggy does.

Chozen's a good dude man. | Ah, that's putting it mildly.

Johnny tells Daniel that Chozen likes Kumiko and before he can continue Carmen pops up, says "No more talk, you're mine" and drags him towards the dance floor. "Gotta go." is all Johnny says clapping Daniel's arm on his way.

"I'm pretty sure they don't keep giant slabs of ice on hand Chozen."

"What kind of bar is this?"

as children chozen and kumiko played together in the ruins of king shō hashi castle. Chozen would hide and Kumiko would always find him. After Chozen's disgrace, he tried to hide from everything and Kumiko found him again, her kindness brought him back. She doesn't know how he feels. How he treated her, what he did to her. Unforgivable

Louie sees anoush, see's he's with Vanessa, Anoush tries to calm him down, Louie punches him in the face, Vanessa slaps him. Louie: You can do better than him, you're embarrassing the family. Anoush ducks down and charges at Louie.

Louie: Get your boyfriend off of me. Vanessa: I'm trying.

Daniel: Classic Louie. Limo, drinks, and some trouble.

Chozen: I'm glad I came here, but I made one big mistake, I should've taken you with me. (panic) okay bye.

Carmen and Amanda are going to take an uber home. Chozen has already dived into the limo yelling party time.

As a sketchy uber driver Johnny tells them to make sure it's an uber black.

Sam seeing injured Tory and then saying if you're having trouble with cobra kai i'd be willing to listen, tory lets her in.

Sam finally sees everything pretty much everyone has been telling her.

Her mom is now in a hospital bed. Previously she was in a bed with some machines but it was still a bedroom, now it looks empty of everything but the hospital bed.

The interior layout is different from before. I think this is the same interior layout as Johnny and Miggy's place

Kim wants Devon Lee to be the new champion.

I remembered being so tense the first time I watched this. With Silver saying he was going to take care of it, our party splitting into three. Amanda and Carmen on their own, Anoush and Louie finding out Reggie's not driving, the guys plastered but singing eye of the tiger. (Maybe they should do a rock karaoke night)

Daniel and Johnny realizing they're not there yet.

Lol i forgot they end the episode on Johnny, Chozen and Daniel realizing they're trapped in the back of the limo and don't know whose driving, can't get out and it's just careening so they keep slamming from side to side.

[thedysphoriadiaries]

Entry 23 - 8 March 2023, 4:36pm

I'm not going to lie, I think I've run out of things to say. After all, one can only talk about certain things for so long until it becomes stale, or until you become sick of talking about it.

I finally shaved my own legs today, and, well, I expected it to fill me with some measure of euphoria, but it doesn't. Not today.

The thought of conscription scares me. I don't know why, even though some part of it has to do with how I'm just an outsider.

If there's anything I've begun to realize, it's realizing how lonely this road is: I can't connect well with the people of the same sex/gender as me. I don't feel like this body is something to be celebrated. I don't want to be treated as my assigned gender at birth.

Who, outside of those who are like me, and those on the extreme ends of the social scale (consider incels, who hate women because said women don't give them a chance in dating), could ever come close to understanding how it is to live like this? I wish I could tell a close friend of mine (who's been with me for about seven years), that I don't like being called "bro", but... that's just the way he is. I wish I could just not feel envious of women and their ways of life, but that's just what this brain does.

Yet, even accepting that I am a guy just... doesn't seem like it would bring closure to this entire story of mine. It is a form of closure, and yes, I could be a feminine guy, but, it would be a case of me approaching what I would like to be, but never getting there - like a limit function in mathematics.

It's like how wearing a dress, or putting on make-up doesn't make one a woman any more than how liking cars and the entire DIY culture doesn't make one a man.

Reducing an identity down to an interest is a matter of oversimplification. My ex-partner loved to build model kits and talk about cars. Heck, she even has a racing simulator rig in her bedroom. That does not make her any less of a woman, the same way my dislike of typically masculine behaviours makes me any less of a man - something I don't want to be.

And fundamentally, this entire schism between who I want to be and what I can do now to be closer to who I want to be, is the reason why I refuse to partake in things that would have given me some sense of euphoria. These actions are, to me, badges that scream "I am a woman", on the uniform of a male person. A person who will remain male for as long as they don't accept that they can be anything but.

I know, or at least, am more readily able to accept that I am not going to be a woman, and even if being one does give me some measure of euphoria, trying to be one doesn't, for I am not ready to truly see myself as not a male, but as someone who has been gifted with a programming error at birth. In fact, that would be the explanation I would have accepted, if not for the euphoria I felt when presenting as female in the privacy of my own room, and the dysphoria of being called a... 'bro'.

Oh, the depths of this river of self-hatred.

...

I've noticed that I have become more confrontational as of late.

Over the past few days, I noticed that I've been speaking up more about people assuming others' genders, even though those times when I spoke up were uncalled for, socially.

I've also started snapping at people for referencing male things. After all, when my mother brought up how she could see the man inside after I rose to defend her from my dad (whom I perceived as a threat at the time), I've started to view things she said as a way for me to... connect with the man inside, even though I don't want to be one. It's why I kind of snapped at her for singing some song, and saying that it was a song that a man sung.

It's these moments which make me wish I was never alive. Just kill me already.

...

Yet, even after all this, I do not know if I want to help myself: after all, if society is good at one thing, it is telling you this:

If you're not normal, you're wrong. A tumor to be excised from the body that civilization is.

...

And... I just don't know what's wrong with me.

Was it past trauma?

Am I actually trans?

Is it social contagion, like how there were reports of people self-diagnosing with Tourette's after a tiktok trend came about?

Is it something else that slipped the watchful gaze of the team of medical professionals as they diagnosed me as a premature baby on the brink of death?

Or, am I just refusing to accept that I have the option to not let life choose its path for me?

...

What's wrong with me?

[wonder-queen-123]

? x Sick Hanahaki Reader

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to take your mind off of him. You wondered why it had to be him of all people. Why'd your heart have to fall for him?

Ever since a kid, he's been the only thing you could think about. Of course he'd never like you back, you were just a waste of space...or at least that's what he and your family constantly told you.

"'Hey guys, how's it going? What are you guys talking about? Oh, you're talking about them? Yeah, I agree. They really are just a waste of space.'"

You couldn't stop thinking about that, and as soon as that thought resurfaced, your chest felt like it was on fire. You quickly got off the bed, and immediately ran to the bathroom. You coughed violently, trying to get the flowers out, knowing full well that you didn't have much time left.

You flush the toilet, and sat against your bathroom wall. Faintly, You heard someone knocking on your bedroom door. You didn't want to see anyone, nevertheless talk to anyone, but you knew that they'd just keep knocking if you didn't open the door.

You slowly and shakily got up from the floor, and washed away the blood from your mouth, and walked into your room. You made your way over to the door, and opened it.

You took one look at who it was, and asked why they were here. "I just wanted to check on you. I noticed...can-can I come in? I want to talk to you."

You wordlessly let them in, and gestured to your bed for them to sit down. You sat beside them, and waited for them to say something.

"Where have you been the last few weeks? You barely show up to class anymore, and you've also been skipping training. Mr. Aizawa and the rest of us are extremely worried about you. Please talk to me. I want to help."

You looked away, not knowing what to say. "Please, (Name). Please talk to me, I want to help you. I really do." You turned to look at them.

No one ever called you by  your real name when talking to you. They'd usually use the nickname they gave you, but when they did you knew that they were worried.

You cupped their face with your hand, and wiped the tears away with your thumbs. "Don't cry, love. It's okay. I'm fine. I'm sorry for worrying you and the others, but trust me, I'm fine." You said, looking at them.

They smiled slightly at hearing the name you called everyone. "Are you sure? You don't seem fine to me. And, there's something I've noticed as of late. I know that it's not my place to say, but I noticed that you haven't been eating lately. You would usually sit with me and the rest of our friends at lunch, and even make jokes about you-know-who. But, you haven't been at lunch with us for about two and a half weeks. Probably longer than that."

You knew they were right, but you couldn't just say 'the reason why I haven't been showing up to class, training, or even lunch is because I'm sick. I've got hanahaki, and I'm actually dying. I'll be gone within the next week and a half, to two weeks most likely.'

What were you supposed to do or even say? You knew that it would break their heart if they found out you were sick, nevertheless dying, and you didn't want them to be sad. You hated seeing your friends and family upset.

You felt another cough forming in your throat, and quickly ran to the bathroom once again. You didn't have any time to tell your friend to plug their ears because you were in the middle of throwing up at least 3x as many flowers, branches, and blood.

As soon as you realized just how much you had thrown up, you knew that you were already on the brink of death. You were practically already gone.

Just as your thoughts started to cloud and fog your mind, you didn't hear the knocking, which slowly turned into banging on the bathroom door.

"(Name)! Unlock the door! What's happening? Please, open the door! (Name)! Please!"

You have lost so much blood over the past few weeks, that you could barely even stand. You were fading in and out of consciousness, and barely heard your name being called.

The last thing you saw before falling unconscious was the bathroom door being flung open, and your friend running over to you.

They immediately picked you up, and held you against their chest. With what strength you had left, you wrapped your arms around them, and started to say 'i love you'.

You only managed to say 'I lo-' before taking your last breath. Once you and your friend were back in your room, they set you down on your bed, and had just now realized that there was a note on your nightstand.

'To whoever may be reading this, I'm sorry that I didn't spend my last few weeks with any of you. I didn't want anyone to know that I was sick. That's why I haven't been showing up to class, training, and lunch. I've had hanahaki for a while, but I don't want anyone to blame themselves. It wasn't anyone's fault but mine. I'm the idiot who fell in love with someone who always called me a waste of space. Yes, Katsuki Bakugou in other words. Katsu, if you're the one reading this, then I want you to know that I've had a crush on you ever since we were kids. Even if I am, or was a waste of space, at least I'm not anymore. Dad, thank you for not telling anyone about this. I love you all so very much, and I know that all you my loves, will become amazing heroes. (Name) Aizawa.'

Kirishima cried his eyes out when he got done reading the note. But, Aizawa had known? Since when? How long has Aizawa known about this? Did he know if there was a way to cure you, and you just refused?

As Kirishima was lost in thought, he didn't realize that Aizawa, along with the rest of 1A was standing right behind him, crying.

Once he turned around and noticed, he immediately noticed Bakugou looking at him, and rage immediately flooded over Kirishima.

He walked past everyone, and immediately punched Bakugou in the face as hard as he could. "Bakubro!" He growled, venom laced in his voice.

"You did what?! How could you?! How could you say that to them, or even about them?! Because of what you and their family constantly told them, look at what ended up happening! (Turns to Aizawa) And you, Mr. Aizawa, you're just as bad as Bakugou here! How could you call your own kid a fucking waste of space?! If you didn't want them, then why didn't you put them up for adoption?! Telling (Name) that they're a waste of fucking space?! How incredibly monstrous can two people fucking be?!"

Everyone just stared wordlessly at Kirishima, not knowing what to do. No one had ever seen Kirishima this mad before, so they were all taken aback.

Without knowing what else to do, Sero had activated his quirk, and had bound Kirishima's hands together to keep him from lashing out at anyone else.

[hannahhasnofriends]

happier | dream

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

summary: based off the song happier by olivia rodrigo!

pairing: dream x reader

warnings: angst, break ups, this is just fucking sad lmao, real names are used (srry not srry)

word count: 1.2k

a/n: i love olivia rodrigos new album i literally have not listened to anything else since it came out omfg😎 also i think i like this fic?? idk gimme some thoughts n feedback :)

We broke up a month ago Your friends are mine, you know I know You've moved on, found someone new One more girl who brings out the better in you And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But she's so sweet, she's so pretty Does she mean you forgot about me?

"Hey guys! I've missed you all so much." I hug Sapnap tightly and move on to the next person I was greeting.

A "reunion" we were calling it, it'd been a year since the SMP ended and everyone wanted to get into touch again. It was bittersweet seeing everyone , it seemed like we'd grown up so much since then. Hell, I know I have.

"Hey darling, " I turn and see Niki, I missed her so much. We were the first female streamers on the SMP, she'd been my best friend. "How are you?"

"I'm good, really." I could see the sympathy in her eyes. I pretended not to notice when everyone did a double take when I walked into the room, they really thought I wasn't going to come today.

"That's good, I've missed you." She had a tight smile on her face. "You know he's coming today, right?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, I knew someone was going to ask. It was fine, I had prepared myself for the questions and stares. It'd been 6 months, half a year, 6 damn full moons since we'd ended. We share the same friends, it was hard knowing they were going to pick sides, we both knew it wasn't going to be mine.

"Clay? Yeah, I know. Don't worry, we've both moved on. We're adults and I don't need to hide from him. We're friends!" I was lying through my fucking teeth. I saw his instagram posts, the subtweets, and everything else that had her named burned into it.

"Ok, I just wanted to check in. I know we all took the erm- break-up pretty hard." Her eyes avoided mine but I know she truly meant well by everything she was saying. "Anyway, I'm going to say hi to a few others. I really want us to talk more, ok?"

She squeezed my arm as she was walking off, I nodded my head even though I probably wouldn't be able to bring myself to message her after this.

I took a deep breath and eyed my other company. I was sticking out like a sore thumb, everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves. Honestly, it'd probably be best to make a cowardly dash before he showed up.

Just as I'd made up my mind, I saw it. The main doors opened and there they were. Well. Too damn late for that.

He was as tall and gorgeous as he was 6 months ago and she was stunningly perched on his arm. The worst part wasn't how goddamn good they looked, it was how you could just tell they were right. You could simply glance in their direction and tell she was nice and kind and he was completely devoted to her.

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Just like that, all the air in the room had been sucked out. I was doomed.

As he made his way around the room, his eyes finally found mine. His smile faltered and I could tell he was taken aback. I averted my eyes quickly, this was so stupid.

“Y/n! Hi!” I jumped as I heard his voice, sneaky little bastard. I forced my best smile on my face as I turned to face them. She was standing next to him, still arm in arm but she stayed silent.

“Hey! How’s it going.” I pressed my lips together, he seemed so… ok? His eyes no longer had those dark circles and the cuts on his knuckles look healed.

“I’m good! How about you?” He tilts his head, curious.

“I’m doing good, too. Pretty busy, but you know.” I nodded along to what I said, it wasn’t a complete lie.

Abruptly, she clears her throat and side eyes Clay, obviously wanting something. “Oh, right! This is Grace.”

“Hi, I’ve heard great things about you.” She smiles so warmly, she seems so great. I could feel the jealously sinking into my skin, it was suffocating.

“Hello, it’s really nice to meet you.” This time I really was lying. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. How I couldn’t let her boyfriend go.

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed You meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm pickin' her apart Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind She probably gives you butterflies

She kept up the small talk with me. I learned she was an artist and slightly older than him. She taught art to kids on the weekends and her parents were still married. She even volunteered to help me move.

I noticed the rings she wore and thought about whether he gave them to her. If he gave her the same gifts he gave me. Maybe she knew too. Maybe she knew he took her to the same places we went. Did the same things, laughed at the same jokes. I hope she did.

But the conversation continued, and I kept searching for a flaw. Something to make him realize she wasn’t meant for him. Something I could point out and have my aha moment.

But she was perfect. And I had nothing that would make him pick me instead of her.

I wish you all the best, really Say you love her, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The music picked up again and they excused themselves to the dance floor. It was a sappy, corny love song. It fit them perfectly. I could see him whisper in her ear and rock her back forth to the beat. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

As they swayed, I was hoping he was thinking of me. I hoped he would drop her right then and there and grab my hand and lead me out of this mess. I hoped he would lock eyes with me and pretend none of this happened. I hoped they weren't as happy as they looked.

I hope you're happy Just not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

As I watched them, I swear every memory we shared came fleeting into my mind. Every smile, every laugh, every fight, everything. The way he’d let me wear his sunglasses in the car and the time we danced in the rain and we’re sick for days after.

As I watched them I wondered wether they were truly happy together. If he was in love, if he loved her more than he loved me. If he ever thought of me when he was with her.

I wonder if he watched me as I left.