#I feel like I missed something real important

[burst-of-iridescent]

well since i can already tell that we’re all going to be subjected to the same old tired mai & mai.ko discourse for the foreseeable future, let’s get it clear right now that the atla comics have never been, and will never be acceptable mediums of character development, and here’s why:

1. the comics are given the benefit of hindsight, which impairs organic character growth.

it’s become extremely clear over the last few years that many of the comics are made as, or include, direct responses to criticisms of the original show — especially when it comes to katara, mai, and the canon pairings. aang didn’t ask katara for consent? look, he’s checking if he can kiss her! mai doesn’t care about fire nation imperialism? here, she’s an anti fascist! iroh was a creep to june? don’t worry, here he is apologising!

many of the things the characters do or say in the comics feel unnatural because they are not written as characters, but as mouthpieces for the creators to address fandom complaints from the original show.

“but that’s good, right? they’re trying to make it better!” i mean… sure? it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s damage control, and that no matter what stories span the middle, the arcs of these characters still begin and end with avatar: the last airbender, and the legend of korra, both of which are fixed and immutable. the comics cannot retroactively fix the issues of either show, because they’ve already been defined as the goalposts of the characters’ lives, and there is no way to undo that.

it’s like if you eat a meal that isn’t to your satisfaction, and maybe the chief makes you another dish, which is all well and good — but it doesn’t fix the fact that the original meal still sucked! sometimes, accepting criticism means accepting that there’s no way to go back and fix it but to do better next time, with the next story you wish to tell.

if the legend of korra didn’t exist, and the arcs of the characters were left open after atla, then maybe there would be for the room for the comics to function as character development if not for the fact that…

2. the comics are intended for a very different audience than the show.

it’s obvious that the audience for the original show vastly outnumbers the audience for the comics, likely by thousands, if not millions. this isn’t the mcu, where the installation of any atla property is vital to understanding the next, and so on. you can skip the comics and miss nothing whatsoever (and honestly your life would be far improved by doing so).

those who read the comics are likely only the real diehard fans of the show — and the creators know this, which is why we have the whole issue of point one above. but this difference in audience matters, because it reflects the significance of the story being told, and how important it is for the audience to know it. this is why, if the characters’ development and storylines in the comics truly, genuinely mattered, it would have been in the show already.

i’m not saying that the gaang wouldn’t have continued to grow and change post-atla, but generally stories exist as closed circuits, self-contained within themselves. when you end atla, you’re meant to believe that those arcs are finished. that’s the whole reason the comics deal mostly with fun silly adventures, or with quick, temporary conflicts instead of grand, overarching narratives, because they are not truly meant to function as a continuation of the story of atla, or its characters.

(if you ask me frankly, they’re meant to be nostalgia cash grabs, but that’s neither here nor there.)

creator intention matters with the atla comics (or any atla property, in fact), because creator intention was the subject of criticism for the original show in the first place. why must we rely on the comics or the cookbook or avatar legends to tell us that katara did things with her life outside of aang? why do we need to turn to something released nearly two decades after atla to find any evidence that mai denounced the fire nation’s imperialist indoctrination, when she’s romantically involved with one of the show’s most important characters? why are these stories relegated to a medium with far less reach, far too late?

the answer is that the writers didn’t find those stories to be originally worth telling, and that is the real problem fans have been pointing out since 2008.

so, tldr:

[usomads]

You're My Problem // Tama Tonga x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hiiii, so idk how I feel about this honestly but I wanted to get my first Tama story out (we’re starving out here lol) and here’s what I came up with. Lmk if you have any recs for him, and as always, happy reading!!!

Plot -> You and Tama can’t stand each other. Locked in a room with him by force, will the two of you make up or will the hate continue?

Pairings -> Tama Tonga x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Choking, Degradation, Oral Receiving (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Hair Pulling, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.4k

It was impossible to point to a specific incident that led to you and Tama despising each other so deeply, it seemed as if from the moment you met it was clear the two of you would never get along. You were assigned as a producer for the Bloodline storyline, which unfortunately meant that you were working closely with him every single week. None of the other members had a problem with you. In fact, they loved you, but Tama never shared that sentiment. So here you were in the Bloodline’s locker room trying to pitch the promo they’d be doing later in the night but, of course, Tama was being difficult as usual.

“You’re insufferable, you know that? I can’t even get this fuckin’ promo out without you bitching at me every five seconds. God, it’s like you do this shit on purpose-”

“Maybe you just don’t know how to do your fuckin’ job, you ever think of that, Y/N? Oh, I’m sorry, you’re never the problem, right? Shit goes sideways at least once a week but hey, it couldn’t possibly be Little Miss Perfect right?” 

“Oh, so now you think you can tell me how to do my own job? I don’t see the other three struggling with it, so that would just narrow it down to you, right? You wanna talk about me not doing my job right, look in the mirror assho-”

“Both of you, please, shut the fuck up already. It’s every week with this shit, I’m fuckin’ tired of it. Can you just get along, for once?” Sefa groaned, clearly annoyed with the two of you constantly arguing.

“Well if she weren’t such a stuck up bitch then ma-”

“The fuck did you just call me?!” You stood from your seat at Tama’s words, instantly being provoked but was stopped by Sefa stepping in front of you, preventing you from getting in Tama’s face.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, enough. Both of you need to calm the fuck down-”

“Fuck you mean, ‘calm down’? Did you not just hear what he said? Now get outta my way so I can-”

“No, none of that shit. We got more important business to tend to. Y/N, your promo idea is great, like always. And Tama,” he looked in the Tongan’s direction, “that was fuckin’ uncalled for. I don’t give a fuck how much you don’t like her, callin’ her a bitch is not cool, uce. But both of you,” he pointed between the two of you, “need to figure out whatever this issue is. I can’t have y’all bitchin’ at each other all the time, shit’s annoying as hell. So you know what, I’ve got an idea…” Sefa trailed off. “Me, Jacob, and Tonga are gonna go talk to creative about some shit real quick, and you two,” he and the other two walked towards the door, “are gonna talk this shit out. And I’m not lettin’ y’all outta here until ‘til you do.” You and Tama both tried to say something to stop them but went ignored as Jacob, Tonga, and Sefa went out the door and closed it behind them, locking it in the process. You let out a huff of annoyance, slouching in your seat.

“You realize this is your fault, right?” You spoke out loud, not looking at Tama. “If you weren’t such a fuckin’ dick then we wouldn’t be here right now. Once again, you gotta fuck something up...” 

Tama laughed obnoxiously, “My fault? Oh, don’t act all fuckin’ innocent here, Y/N. You know damn well you had just as much a part in this as I did. Don’t play all innocent now, Sefa ain’t here to defend you.”

You stood up abruptly, ignoring him as you walked to the door and tested the doorknob, finding it was indeed locked. “You’ve gotta be kidding… he fuckin’ locked us in here?!”

Tama stood up and walked over to the door, brushing by you to try the door himself. “There’s no way he did that shit, you’re just being fuckin’ dramatic,” he twisted the knob to also find it locked, you scoffing as he had to try it himself. You step to him, forcing him to look at you as you spoke.

“What the fuck is your issue, Tama? I don’t get it,” you asked, demanding an answer. “Like, what the fuck did I ever do to you? I tried being nice to you at first, I really did, but you’ve been such a fuckin’ prick ever since I met you that you’ve made that literally impossible.” Tama fumed as he pushed your back against the door, stepping dangerously close to you. Your mind felt dizzy as he stood over you, him peering down at you with his intense gaze. Your stomach had all of a sudden become a bundle of nerves as you watched his face, anxious of what he might say or do, but deep down there was a small part of you that enjoyed how intimidated you were by him. You hated how much you enjoyed this, trying desperately to put those thoughts to the side and forget about them completely, but he wouldn’t let you. His stare wouldn’t let you. The heat emanating from his body wouldn’t let you. And his next words certainly wouldn’t either.

“You wanna know what my problem is, Y/N? You. You’re my problem.”

“Well, no shit, I fuckin’ knew that dumba-” your words caught in your throat as he stepped impossibly closer and wrapped a hand around your neck, your bodies nearly touching. You gasped at the feeling and felt your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head, trying hard to maintain a level of self control under his touch.

“My problem is every time you talk back or insult me, I wanna shove my cock down your throat right then and there to shut you up.” He growled. “Been tryin’ so hard not to ruin you since the moment I met you, ‘s why I been actin’ like I can’t stand your ass. But the more bold you been gettin’ with me,” he leaned down to your ear, “the more I wanna fuck that attitude of yours right outta ya.” You bite your lip at his words, trying your best to suppress the moans that are daring to fall off your lips. Tama raises his head and meets your gaze once more, watching you try desperately to contain yourself underneath him. Your breath quickens as his eyes scan your features, looking for any sign of surrender to him. “Not so bold anymore, huh?” Your lip bite morphs into a smirk, finding your confidence at his teasing remark.

“You gonna sit here and continue to talk outta your ass, or you gonna man up and fuckin’ kiss me already?”

He chuckles lowly before smashing his lips to yours, the grip on your throat tightening and a moan swallowed by your lips coming from his mouth. You grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, craving his touch as your lips dance along his. He forces his tongue in your mouth, dominating it as his other hand grips your hip. Wetness begins to pool at your core, the overwhelming sexual desire between you two palpable as you both fight for dominance. The two of you switch positions; Tama’s back against the door as you separate. Your swollen lips paint a smirk as your hands travel to the hem of his shirt, tugging on the fabric and prompting him to remove it. The bulge in his pants is prominent, silently aching for you as your fingers dance along his waistline. Tama watches your actions- watches you toy with him.

“Y/N, if you don’t…”

“Don’t what? You were the one who called me a bitch earlier, might as well play the part…” you begin to back away from him but his hand grabs your wrist tightly and pulls you to him.

“I don’t think so,” his eyes darken as he speaks to you in a commanding tone. “Get on your knees.”

“Make me.”

Tama grabs your shoulders, shoving you down and undoing his pants to free himself. His cock hits his stomach as he pulls his boxers down, veins prominently detailing the thick shaft as precum leaks from the swollen tip. You look up at him through your lashes, Tama taking a mental picture of the sight of your doe eyes making eye contact with his. To him, the sight of you peering up at him with bruised lips, mere inches away from having your mouth on him was the sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed. You give him a wink and wrap your hand around him, spitting on his dick and slowly stroking it. He groans when you touch him, weaving his fingers into your hair. Your tongue slowly trails from base to tip, tracing the outlines of his veins and giving kitten licks to the swollen head, making him shiver.

“Mmm, fuck Y/N, quit teasin’,” he moaned, gripping your hair harder. You didn’t listen, continuing your actions until he tugs your head back to look at him, a gasp slipping from your mouth and allowing him to slide his tip inside. “You wanna play, huh? Fine by me, baby, let’s play.” He pushes your head slowly down his length, forcing you to relax your jaw and throat to open yourself up to him. You feel his cock hit the back of your throat and gag, eliciting a groan from him as your throat tightens around him. “Mmm, you think you’re so big and bad, ain’t so big now with this dick down your throat, huh?” You moan around his cock, your eyes watering as he thrusts himself in your mouth. He fucks your throat violently, his hips bucking at an unrelenting pace as tears stream your face and you choke on him. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath but continues to stroke himself as he looks down at you. “Look at you, you’re a mess. Such a fuckin’ slut f’me, chokin’ on my cock.” You whine at his words, you had never been one for name calling but the way it glided off his tongue made you weak in the knees. “Oh, you like that, huh? C’mere, you wanna be my slut so bad imma fuck you like one.” He lifts you back to your feet, kneeling down and taking off your bottoms, leaving you in your panties. He moves them to the side, collecting your wetness with his fingers. “Damn, baby girl, I did all this? You’re a fuckin’ mess for me,” he smirked.

“Tama, I swear to God…”

“Nah, you wanted to play earlier, remember? Now it’s my turn.”

“Tama…”

“Whatchu want, hmm? Imma need a little more convincing than that, sweetheart.” You whined and laid your head against the door, eyes gluing shut as his fingers teased close to your aching core but would never quite touch it. 

“Please…” you mumbled softly.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What were you sayin’?” He smirked, loving how desperate you were for him.

“Fuck, Tama, please. Please, just fuckin’ touch me alre- oh fuckkk.” His tongue making contact with your dripping folds cut you short, your eyes rolling back as his tongue ravaged your pussy. He moaned as he lapped at you, the vibration sending chills throughout your body. He lifts his head and blows cool air on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, making you cry out his name and tangle your hands in his hair. He continued to assault your pussy with his tongue, and it wasn’t long before your legs were shaking underneath him.

“S-shit, Tama I-” He stops his movements, slowly rising back to his feet and giving you a sinister look. 

“Oh, you thought I was gonna let you cum so easily?” He turns you around, pressing your front against the cool surface of the door. “Nah, baby, you cum when I let you.” His tip pokes at your entrance before pushing its way in, the thickness of his cock filling you instantly. He places a hand on the side of your head, pushing it into the door as he pounds into you mercilessly. You moan his name loud, unable to control yourself as Tama fully dominates you.

“Fuckk, such a pretty lil’ slut f’me. Takin’ me so well.. you love this dick don’t you, baby girl? Tell Daddy how much you love his cock.” He continues to fuck you hard, your skin slapping echoing the room. “I- I, oh fuck, s-so good. I-”

“That’s it, mama, let the whole fuckin’ arena know who’s fuckin’ you this good.” He grabs your hair and pulls, arching your back and he slams his hips into you. You cry out his name, the new angle hitting your spot in all the right ways. You know you’re close- your pussy tightens around him and he groans. “Lost that attitude, didn’t you? All it took was to fill you full of good dick and you shut right up… fuck, baby, so fuckin’ tight f’me. Squeezing the fuck outta my dick. Keep that shit up and imma fill this pussy up.” 

“P-please..”

“Oh, you dirty fuckin’ slut, you want that, don’t you?” You whimper in response. “Imma give that shit to you baby, gotta cum for me first. C’mon, ma, nut all over this dick.” His hips drive into you deeper than before, daring you to come undone, and you do. You cum hard, your vision turning white and your limbs shaking violently as you release all over him. Your pussy tightens one last time and Tama curses your name, snapping his hips into you and releasing deep inside your pussy.  He stills inside you, allowing his cum to completely fill you as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. He plants kisses on the side of your neck, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. After a moment he pulls out of you, reaching down to your panties and moving them back in place, trapping his cum inside. You two rest for a moment, skin to skin as he holds you in his arms, the both of you stuck in a blissful trance until a loud knocking raps from the other side of the door. 

“Aye, y’all make up yet? Got a segment to get ready for, we’re coming in.” 

Shit.

[rweoutofthewoods]

Some real talk and life updates:

The only other person who shares my position at work quit so they’re upping my weekly hours into overtime and dec is going to be a very crazy month. i honestly might not have much time for fanfic at all. So expect me to miss updates and not have much time to put into fic anymore.

My big girl job (derogatory) leaves me with somehow LESS time than when I was in college. I wake up at the crack of dawn, work all day, then come home and immediately crash.

SO all this to say expect to see a bit less of me, and don’t be alarmed if you do. I’m going to try my best but I’ll probably miss more updates and go more time without updating a lot of my WIPs.

BUT I’m really proud of my body of work, my fics and all their flaws. And for the first time ever, I no longer feel like I have to do MORE. Like there’s some standard or goal I haven’t reached yet. I feel content with where I’m at. I’ve told a lot of stories that are important to me and breached a lot of heavy topics and explored a lot that I think taught ME a lot.

It’s no longer like someone is chasing me with a knife making me write, write, write go, go, go. A year ago i remember making a post saying I wanted to create something that matters, and personally at least I feel like I have. And now it’s not like I’m trying to fill some hole or reach some massive goal or make some impact. Idk, I don’t need to be “great.” I’m just happy to be here and to write whenever I have time and feel up to it.

Every time some asked me how I write so much I’d say “mental illness 😭” which jokes or not, kind of true. But I’m in a really content and comfortable place and I have a lot of love and happiness in my life, which means the things that drive my writing have changed. And it might take some time to settle into those changes and form a new routine not driven by this like frantic, manic mindset.

This is a lot of rambles, but it’s kind of crazy over these past few years you guys have been here while I became an adult. So it just makes me nostalgic and grateful that we’ve been on this journey together and I’ve gotten to grow as both a writer and a person with you all 🩷🩷 truly, thank you

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.6  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.8

p.7

AN: Oh babe, this thing was a real bitch 'n a half to crank out. Sorry for the delay. I was right in the thick of editing when Google Chrome had the audacity to update itself. I will never edit on my ao3 text box ever again. lesson fucking learned, yeah? get ready for somethin

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

the bitch n' a half

Megumi’s decision to enroll at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech caught you completely off guard.

For as long as you’d known him, he’d shown little interest in becoming a sorcerer, dismissing the world of cursed spirits and exorcisms as something he didn’t want to be a part of.

You’d never pestered him about his cursed technique either, sensing early on that it wasn’t a topic of interest to him. You figured if he ever wanted to talk about it, he would.

So when he announced his plans at the dinner table, the words felt like they’d come out of nowhere, leaving you blindsided.

“You’re…serious about this?” you asked, trying to keep your tone steady, though the surprise was clear in your voice.

Megumi gave a small nod, his expression as stoic as ever, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Yeah,” he said simply, his voice firm. Just where the hell—

You were supportive, of course—you’d never hold him back from a choice like this—but his sudden decision, combined with the way he’d been acting over the summer, left you feeling....unsettled. Something about it just didn’t add up.

The change in Megumi had been slow and subtle, but impossible to miss.

Over the past three months, he’d grown distant, retreating into himself and spending more time in his room than with you.

The boy who used to trail after you, helping with chores or lingering in the kitchen just to chat, now seemed intent on keeping his distance. It was as if an invisible wall had sprung up between you—a large, impenetrable barrier that left you feeling helpless and unsure of how to reach him. You're relationship regressing to something that felt a little more than just indifference. And the ache of his absence settled heavily in your chest, a familiar weight that was all too similar to the isolation you’d endured within your clan.

Whenever you tried to ask gently if something was wrong, his responses were curt and dismissive.

“I’m fine,” he’d mutter. His tone sharp enough to discourage any further questions. If you pressed, he’d retreat entirely, shutting down any chance of meaningful conversation.

It wasn’t just his words that had changed—his entire demeanor was different.

He’d grown skittish, almost wary. A casual touch on his shoulder or a playful ruffle of his hair—gestures he once accepted without hesitation—would now make him flinch, his cheeks flushing an uncharacteristic red. Not meeting your eyes.

Hugs, something he’d finally grown comfortable with over time, had disappeared altogether, replaced by a deliberate and careful distance.

Even when you knocked on his door to call him for meals, he’d answer from behind it. His voice clipped and muffled rather than coming out like he used to. Like he was afraid of you.

You couldn’t pinpoint what had caused the shift, but it left you anxious, as if something important was slipping through your fingers.

You’d tried bringing up Megumi’s decision to become a sorcerer with Toji, hoping for some clarity or even reassurance. Instead, he’d brushed you off with his trademark nonchalance.

“Well, it’s the kid’s death wish. What do I have to do with it?” he’d muttered, though his irritation was poorly hidden. Toji’s avoidance of the topic didn’t help.

When Megumi did emerge from his room, he seemed different each time you saw him, the changes more noticeable as the weeks passed. Over the summer, he’d shot up in height, now towering a head or two above you by the break’s end.

His lean frame had started to fill out, and his once-soft features had taken on a subtle sharpness, hinting at the man he was growing into.

But it wasn’t just his appearance.

Megumi carried himself differently now, with a quiet restraint that felt intentional, as though he were holding something back. Even his interactions with Toji had shifted. The explosive arguments that once echoed through the house had become less frequent, replaced by a tense silence that felt all the more suffocating.

And with each passing day, you heard less and less from Megumi altogether.

Maybe it’s just hormones. Was I this moody at his age?

Adding to your unease was the unsettling shift in Toji’s presence. He’d been around more lately, taking up the spaces Megumi left vacant, though his company wasn’t exactly comforting.

His sharp taunts and teasing demeanor made every interaction feel strained and somewhat awkward. And then there were those quiet dinners—the ones where it was just the two of you sitting across the table.

Still, you exchanged a few sentences here and there, yet the silences always seemed heavier than the words.

Toji had noticed the change in Megumi, too, though his reaction was far from helpful. Instead of offering advice or insight, he leaned into his usual brand of provocation.

He spent more time loitering in the kitchen, leaning lazily against the counter with that infuriating smirk that seemed to suggest he knew far more than he let on.

“Looks like the kid’s growing up,” Toji drawled one evening, his sharp eyes flicking toward you as you worked at the stove. “Getting pretty tall now, too. Bet he doesn’t need you hovering over him anymore.”

You frowned, sparing him a glance. “I wasn’t hovering,” you said, turning back to the pot. Still, your tone carried a note of defensiveness you couldn’t entirely hide. Always when it came to Megumi.

“Sure you weren’t,” Toji said, his smirk ever-widening. “Though I gotta admit, it’s funny, you know. Watching him get all flustered around you. Kid blushes like a lovesick fool.”

Your grip on the spoon tightened, and you sighed, shaking your head in exasperation. “What are you even on about now?”

Toji’s teasing tone dropped slightly, a sharper edge creeping into his teasing voice as he stepped closer.

“Come on, it’s obvious. You really don’t see it? The way he stumbles over himself? Turns bright red every time you so much as pat his shoulder? The kid’s got it bad.”

Your hand froze mid-stir, Toji’s words hitting you like a bucket of ice water. Slowly, you turned to glare at him, heat creeping up your neck despite your best efforts to stay composed.

“That’s ridiculous,” your voice low and tight, attempting to dismiss the insinuation.

Toji, ever the perceptive fucker, didn’t miss a thing. His smirk deepening, his amusement clear.

“Is it, though?”  he drawled, his tone thick with mockery. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. His eyes zoning in on you. “You sure about that?”

“Cut it out,” you snapped, your irritation bubbling over. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” he said lazily, clearly enjoying himself. “But you gotta admit, it’s a little weird. Him acting that way around his mom. And with you being so… sweet with him? You’re what—eighteen? You wanna play mommy that bad?”

The taunt made you flinch slightly.

“What? Don’t like the title? Cause Megs sure seems to love calling you that when he thinks I’m not around. "Mom this, Mom that." Real cute, honestly.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, a mix of embarrassment and frustration rising in your chest.

“He calls me that because I’m his stepmother,” you shot back, trying to sound firm, though the conviction in your voice wavered.

Toji leaned in, his breath ghosting over your neck, his tone dipping into something darker and deliberately provocative. “Oh, yeah? Swear I’ve heard him at night,” he said, his words slow and venomous. “‘Mommy—Mommy,’” he mocked, dragging the word out sinfully, savoring each syllable as his grin twisted into something wicked.

He watched your face carefully, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as your expression froze in shock. “Not exactly what you’d expect to hear coming from your kid’s room, huh?”

His words hit you like a slap, sending a shiver up your spine. Heat surged to your cheeks as you angled yourself away, gripping the spoon tighter.

“Toji,” you snapped, your voice sharp, teetering between embarrassment and frustration. “That’s disgusting.”

“What?” he replied with a feigned look of innocence, shrugging lazily, though the malicious glint in his eyes didn’t waver. He finally leaned back.

“I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed. Kid’s got a lot on his mind these days, doesn’t he? He may not be talking to you, but trust me—he’s thinking about you. A lot.”

“That’s enough,” you bit out, your voice firm. But Toji’s continued on.

“Hear me out,” his voice thick with mockery, and far too laid back for the topic at hand.

“Before all this sorcerer crap, he was glued to your hip. Don’t act like you didn’t notice. Always trailing after you like you hung the damn moon. And you? You let him. No—you didn’t just let him—you encouraged it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you stirred the pot, refusing to meet his gaze. “He’s just a kid,” you said tightly, your voice low. “He needed someone to lean on.”

Toji barked out a laugh, the sound cold and condescending. “Yeah, lean on. That’s what you wanna call it. Kid doesn’t just lean on you, sweetheart. He worships you. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person on Earth who gives a damn about him.”

“He’s figuring things out,” you retorted, trying to inject some finality into your words—end this shitty conversation with him, though even you could feel the weakness in them. “It’s just a phase.”

“A phase,” Toji repeated with a snort. “Right. A phase that’s got him locking himself in his room and avoiding you like the plague. You think that’s normal? You think he’s just ‘figuring things out’? Sweetheart, I’ll give him six months before he grows a pair and spills his guts. Don’t come crying to me when the kid drops a confession on you.”

The spoon clattered against the edge of the pot as your hands stilled, and you turned to glare at him, your heart pounding. Why were his words effecting you so much?

“Megumi’s not like that,” you said firmly, though the quiver in your voice betrayed your conviction.

He tilted his head as if considering you.

“Maybe yes, maybe no. But don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. The way he’s acting? He doesn’t just see you as his stepmom. When he finally figures it out…” He trailed off, his grin widening, flashing his canines. “Oh, It’s gonna get real messy—for the both of you.”

Your fists clenched, heat flooding your face as frustration and unease warred within you.

“Are you done?” you hissed. “Can you stop now?”

Ignoring you, he chuckled, a low, grating sound that made your skin crawl. “Don’t be surprised if I kick the bucket and you end up with a marriage proposal on your hands. Kid’s already been giving me those killer glares. It'll be any day now, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, desperate to shake the knot tightening in your chest. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, turning your back on him and focusing intently on stirring the pot.

“Maybe,” Toji said with a crooked grin, tossing a wink your way that only made your irritation spike. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And with that, he strolled out, leaving the room in a silence that felt heavy and suffocating. His words shouldn’t have gotten to you—absurd, cruel, teasing for the sake of his own amusement—but they lingered, scratching at the corners of your mind like an itch you couldn’t ignore.

The way Megumi had been acting lately—so distant, so evasive—came rushing back to you.

Was it really just growing pains? A harmless, fleeting crush? It was normal for boys his age to feel that way, wasn’t it? But Toji’s pointed remarks, for all their venom, planted a seed of doubt that you couldn’t easily dismiss.

Even so, you couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest that came from missing him.

The day before Megumi was set to leave for Jujutsu Tech, you made a quiet vow to yourself. His growing distance, the walls he’d carefully built between you—it all weighed heavily on your heart. You couldn’t let him go without at least trying to understand what had caused the rift.

Despite the silence between you and the lingering sting of Toji’s teasing remarks, you couldn’t deny the soft spot you had for him. No matter how far he went or what path he chose, you wanted him to leave knowing one thing—he would always have a home with you. Always.

Softly, you knocked on Megumi’s door, the sound echoing in the stillness of the hallway. From inside, there was a creak of the bed, then his low, detached, "Yeah?"

"Can I come in for a minute?" you asked gently, your voice betraying the uncertainty you felt.

After a moment’s pause, his footsteps approached, the door creaking open.

Megumi stood there, towering over you, his sharp gaze locking onto yours with an unreadable expression that made your chest tighten. His recent distance, the coldness in his demeanor, still left you feeling somewhat awkward.

"I just wanted to talk," you said softly, breaking the tension. His eyes flickered away, thinking for a moment, before returning to meet yours. With a small nod, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter.

You hesitated, nerves prickling under his impassive stare, but forced yourself to step inside. This was Megumi—the same boy who used to shadow your every step, who helped with chores and sat with you on quiet evenings.

But now, the room felt heavier, the air charged with something unsettling. Unfamiliar. You perched on the edge of his bed, your hands nervously smoothing over your knees, while he leaned casually against his desk. The distance he maintained felt purposeful, deliberate.

He looked so different. His posture was composed, his arms crossed as he regarded you with an air of quiet authority that felt nearly foreign. His once-boyish features were sharper now—defined cheekbones, a strong jawline, and piercing eyes that seemed far older than they should.

He looked uncannily like Toji.

Handsome. The word slipped unbidden into your thoughts, and your stomach twisted with discomfort. You immediately pushed it aside. This was Megumi—your stepchild. You were the adult here, a maternal figure. There was no room for such thoughts, no excuse for the nervous energy buzzing under your skin.

“What’re you doing here?” His voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, startling you. It was sharp, direct, his gaze cool as it swept over you. The weight of his attention made you squirm, a sensation you couldn’t quite place.

“I—” You faltered, suddenly unsure of how to bridge the gap that had grown between you. “I just… I wanted to talk. You’re leaving tomorrow, and you’ve been avoiding me.”

His expression didn’t shift, but his head tilted slightly, as if considering your words. His eyes, however, lingered. They moved deliberately, tracing the curve of your neck, the nervous way your hands fidgeted in your lap. There was something in his gaze—quiet, intense, and unsettlingly focused.

You looked away, heat rushing to your cheeks. There was no reason to feel this nervous, no reason for the air to feel so charged. It’s Megumi. And yet, the way he was watching you, the sheer presence he carried now, made you feel small, vulnerable, like you were suddenly under scrutiny.

It reminded you too much of Toji—the quiet confidence, the unnerving calm, the way he seemed to peel back your layers without a word. You felt desperate to ease the silent tension.

“I just…” you stammered again, your voice weaker now. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. We haven’t… we haven’t talked much lately.”

Megumi didn’t reply, yet his stare remained, and for a moment, you swore there was something almost predatory in his expression—an intensity that made your chest tighten.

When he finally moved, it was slow, deliberate, like he didn’t want to spook you.

Pushing off the desk, he crossed the short distance between you, his steps measured and quiet. You stiffened, your breath catching as he loomed closer, his shadow falling over you. Your instincts screamed to move, to retreat, but you stayed frozen, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Megumi,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. His name sounded more like a plea than you intended. He didn’t answer, his towering presence swallowing the small space between you.

The sharpness in his eyes softened, just slightly, but the tension in the air remained, coiling tighter with every passing second. Whatever words you’d intended to say were gone now, lost under the weight of his presence. And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were speaking to the boy you’d once known—or someone else entirely.

For Megumi, this was agony—pure, unrelenting torture. Watching you sat on his bed. Your wide, uncertain eyes—meeting his with such sincerity, was unraveling him bit by bit.

You looked so natural in his space, so right, like you belonged there.

But it wasn’t enough. Not like this.

His heart thundered in his chest, erratic and deafening, and it took everything he had to keep his expression impassive. He couldn’t let you see just how much he wanted—needed—you to stay.

But deep down, he didn’t know if you even saw him that way. Maybe you never had. Maybe to you, he was just a kid—someone to care for, to look after, not someone to lean on or depend on. The thought stung, even as he tried to push it down.

And the worst part? He hadn’t given you much reason to think otherwise. That was why he was leaving. That was why he needed to change.

“What do you want?” he asked again, his tone flat, though his piercing gaze swept over you, making you feel small, trapped under its weight.

“I…I told you, I just… I wanted to talk. You’re leaving tomorrow, and you’ve been avoiding me,” you said, your voice hesitant but steady, searching for his eyes.

His jaw tightened as his arms crossed over his chest, his posture tense and defensive. “I’ve been busy,” he said simply, though the lie didn't move past you.

“Busy avoiding me,” you countered softly, your words gentle but probing. You didn't want him retreating again, couldn't let him pull back. You leaned forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze, but, now, he stubbornly refused to meet your eyes.

“Why does it matter?” he muttered, sharper now, his tone dismissive, almost annoyed. “It’s not like I’m gone forever. I’ll be back next summer.” He was going on the defensive again.

“It matters because I care about you,” you said, holding your ground. “You’ve been distant, Megumi. I just want to understand what’s going on.”

He scoffed softly, shaking his head, his gaze set on you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” though the way his voice dipped, betrayed him. His fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body visible.

“That’s not true,” you replied gently. “I know something’s wrong. I can see it. Please, just.....talk to me.”

His expression flickered then, a crack in his armor, letting something raw and vulnerable slip through. “You wouldn’t get it,” he finally says, his voice even quieter now, almost hesitant.

“Try me,”

The silence stretched, taut and suffocating, before he finally spoke. His voice was low, deliberate, and heavy with meaning.

“I’ll protect you.”

His words completely caught you off guard, and you blinked, unsure how to respond. “Megumi, what are you—?”

“I mean it,” he interrupted, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’ll get stronger. Strong enough that you’ll never have to worry about them. About anything. I’ll keep you safe.”

There was something unyielding in his tone, a quiet desperation that left you reeling. “Megumi…” you began, unsure of how to navigate this sudden shift in conversation, but he shook his head sharply.

“You don’t understand, I’m not letting them take you away. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here.”

Those words hung in the air. Heavy and final, leaving no room for argument.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. You really hadn't expected...this. Toji’s teasing, his warnings—it all clicked into place, and your stomach twisted with unease. “Megumi, did someone tell you—?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he cut you off, his voice sharp. “All that matters is that you’re safe. That you stay here. With me.”

“Megumi…” you tried again, but his silence was impenetrable. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you felt your resolve faltering. He was already shutting down, retreating further into himself, and you didn’t have a damn clue how to reach him. So much for being a good mother. Then again, you thought bitterly, your role model wasn’t exactly the best to begin with.

You hesitated, torn between the urge to comfort him and the gnawing voice in the back of your mind telling you to leave quickly. “I don’t need you to protect me, Megumi,” you said softly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay calm. “I’m here to protect you. That’s what family does.”

“Family,” he repeated the word bitterly, as if it personally offended him. He straightened, turning halfway to glance at you over his shoulder. “Is that what this is to you? Just… family?”

“Of course it is,” you replied. “That’s what we are, Megumi.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening as a low, humorless laugh—almost a scoff—escaped him. “That’s all I am to you, isn’t it?” he said, his voice sharp and cutting. “Just the kid you have to look after. The one you’re stuck with.”

“Megumi, that’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, his voice sharper, meaner than you’d ever heard it directed at you. His eyes locked onto yours, unrelenting, and something stirred behind them—something dark, layered, tangled with emotions you wouldn't even begin to name. His voice came out desperate, rushed and

“You don’t get it. You don’t understand how much I—”The words broke off, his jaw clenching as if the very thought of finishing the sentence physically hurt. The silence that followed was suffocating, the unfinished confession hanging between you like a live wire, charged and volatile, threatening to ignite everything you thought you knew about him.

“How much you what?” you asked softly, your voice breaking through the thick, suffocating silence. You took a cautious step forward, your chest tight with uncertainty but unable to let the moment go unresolved.

He didn’t answer immediately, the tension in the air thickening with every passing second. Then, finally, a quiet, almost guttural confession slipped from his lips, as though being dragged out against his will.

“How much I care about you,” he said, his voice low and raw, trembling with suppressed emotion. His eyes flicked to yours, burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You’re all I think about. Every day. And the thought of them taking you away, of losing you…”

His voice faltered, breaking as he trailed off, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides, his whole body trembling with barely contained emotion.

Your chest tightened painfully as you struggled to find the right words. “Megumi… I care about you too,” you began cautiously, your voice soft, like treading on fragile ice. “But this—what you’re saying—it’s not…”

“Don’t.” His voice cut through yours, sharp and raw, almost desperate. His fists clenched tighter, his gaze burning into you with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Don’t brush this off,” he said, his tone walking the line between a demand and a plea. “Don’t tell me it’s just some… phase, or whatever excuse you’re going to use to push me away.”

Your conversation with Toji replayed in your mind like a broken record as you stepped back slightly, the weight of Megumi’s words pressing down on you like a physical force. But it wasn't enough. His intensity was suffocating, his desperate gaze pinning you in place. You couldn’t ignore the vulnerable and raw emotion in his voice, the way his words seemed to carve themselves into the air between you.

“Megumi, you’re leaving tomorrow,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “You’re starting a new chapter of your life. This—whatever this is—it’s not something we can just… talk about right now.”

“So when?” he shot back, his voice rising, trembling with an edge of anger that felt dangerously close to breaking. “When I come back? When it’s too late? Tell me—when am I supposed to say it? When am I supposed to matter enough for you to see me the way I see you?”

His words struck you like a hammer.. You opened your mouth, searching for a response, but nothing came out at first. His eyes were on you, demanding answers. Finally, you managed,

“You do matter, Megumi,” your voice breaking despite your best efforts to hold steady. You could feel the sting of tears threatening, your composure slipping with every second under his intense scrutiny. “But this… I don’t know how to—”

“Just don’t leave,” he whispered, his voice breaking, raw, needy. “I’ll get stronger. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… please. Don't leave.”

His vulnerability clawed at your chest, each word heavy with a weight you didn’t know how to carry. The silence that followed was unbearable. Suffocating. Guilt scrapped along you conscious.

He turned away, his shoulders slumping under the burden of what he couldn’t say—and what you couldn’t answer. You opened your mouth, wanting to comfort him, to offer anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

The moment stretched too long, aching and unresolved, before you finally stepped out, the door clicking softly behind you.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, barely audible, his voice laced with defeat.

But you were already gone.

And the next day, Megumi left for Jujutsu Tech.

p.1

p.8

AN: To be continued soon. please give a follow and reblog if you want to stay updated - or follow along on my ao3

[ddongtsan]

Park Sungho As Your Boyfriend

Note: I don't know why I did this, but now I urgently need someone to call my love.

Warning: Contains a high level of illusion (because everyone knows that no one will have the real Sungho), fluff;

↬Sungho loves taking you on peaceful walks in the park during sunset. He likes holding your hand while sharing silly stories from his childhood.

↬ He always finds ways to make simple moments special, like picking a flower along the way to give to you.

↬ When you can’t see each other, Sungho sends you little messages throughout the day to check on you.

↬ Things like: “Make sure to eat something yummy today, okay?” or “I saw something that reminded me of you. It’s as cute as you are.”

↬ At night, he sends voice notes with his soft voice, saying he misses you or singing a snippet of a song that reminds him of you.

↬ He loves surprising you with little things, like a chocolate or a cute note he doodled on, telling you how special you are.

↬ Sungho remembers tiny details about you, like your favorite ice cream flavor or your favorite song, and always tries to include them in his plans.

↬ After a long or tough day, he’s the type to pull you into a tight hug, letting you feel his calm heartbeat. He loves stroking your hair while you sit quietly together.

↬ He holds you like he’s trying to shield you from the rest of the world.

↬ He never misses a chance to tell you how important you are to him, whether through words or gestures. He looks into your eyes and sincerely says: “You’re the best part of my day."

↬ Sungho also loves giving you head pats or running his fingers through your hair until you fall asleep, secretly smiling at how adorable you look when you’re sleepy.

[snocodill]

Guys what happened between the time I left and rejoined the mha fandom??

Like?? Now people are telling me that kiribaku and tododeku are rarepairs and I can’t safely admit that I don’t like bkdk anymore? What happened ??

[oddly-casual]

Fiona and Cake spoilers seriously

(Something I noticed abt Betty and Simons relationship)

I love Betty and Simon’s relationship, I think their back story is so cute and romantic and all that lovely stuff don’t get me wrong.

But there’s this under tone of Betty constantly giving things up for Simon and we don’t really talk about it a lot???

Like, Betty let Simon have his moment with the artifact and the pubic, she also doesn’t go to her trip in favor of going on an expedition with Simon. Then when she goes to leave again she stays for Simon.

Even Fiona is like “you went with her on the bus?” And Simon just looks all confused like “what? No, why would I do that?” Like- hello???

Then after that she gave up her entire life and mind to get Simon back to the point where she literally says “I don’t know who I am without him anymore.” And that just sucks! Since the beginning Betty has been the one giving up the most, her mind, her own possible career, and it’s a story of love of course and it’s very sweet but it’s also a story of sacrifice.

Their love wasn’t a perfect solution, it was already sort of imbalanced when it started and I lowkey love how we see those cracks even before they’re together.

Again, I love their relationship and I think it’s sweet. I just think we should talk about Betty’s side more, especially when she tells a story of what most women do in relationships, sacrifice.

[skrunksthatwunk]

kinda thinking about how the women who serve as maternal figures/raise kids in yyh are never quite ready for it. genkai's an arguable exception, but like.. atsuko had yusuke at 15, shizuru's basically in charge of kazuma full time in her early 20s/late teens (depending on version) with very very absent parents, and even shiori is given a kid she wasn't expecting, in the form of an old, old demon rather than like. a regular, blank slate ass human baby. and although shiori seems to do quite well with kurama, kurama can never be honest with shiori about who he is, or much of what he's seen. if he was, it'd probably make things far more complicated and overwhelming. atsuko, no matter how much she cares for yusuke, Could Not Have Been and thus wasn't ready to have him at 15. her attempts to make the most of that situation have had middling success at best. shizuru has also been placed into a parental role. we don't really know how long she's been raising kuwabara, but that's.. probably still parentification anyway. she shouldn't have to do that, and she shouldn't have to do that so young. and i think some of her coarseness with kuwa is out of frustration with her own inexperience + inadequacy + uncertainty, his not cooperating, and their parents for putting this on her in the first place. the ones who know the full extent of their situation grow desperate and it squeaks out in unpleasant ways, and the one who seems unbothered by it is the only one who has no idea that she's in way over her head. and i mean. ok. gonna preface this by saying keiko is NOT yusuke's mom in any sense of the word. but she does take care of him in a way atsuko couldn't manage to. she's often looking after him and cleaning up after his messes and stuff. she takes him on as a responsibility, and that is, in a way, a caretaker role. not to say that it SHOULD be her responsibility, but it's how she ends up being.

and when the stress of trying to make someone take care of themselves or be kind or good or Whatever goes awry, again, the violence and arguing and distance and ugliness of caring for someone reveals itself.

and i wonder about that. for a series dedicated to physical fighting as a form of communication, what does it say that this extends to the complicated, quietly desperate situations of so many of the women/girls it depicts, whom our more central characters were shaped and raised by?

hell, even hiei touches on this, because hina loved hiei, but there was no way she was prepared for him, obviously, nor for the pain of losing him. rui (whom i also see as a sort of caretaker figure to hiei, inasmuch as either of them were caretakers) literally throws him off a cliff because she couldn't face down the village elders, and out of some mixture of care for hina and, likely, fear for her own survival. and the guilt and pain of that killed hina and deeply wounded rui.

it's like motherhood, this thing that's so often treated as sacred and beautiful, is a kind of stitched up, painful, eggshell-walking thing that hurts parent and child and it's just. oughh

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[todayisafridaynight]

any hopes for kiwami 3? like things u wanna see added or changed stuff like that

if they dont keep kiryu's goofy walk stance and the hoof-like walk sounds i dont wanna play it

[hecksupremechips]

I think the best way to describe my feelings about aini is like if you were craving this specific meal from some distant restaurant you haven’t been to in ages and you try to replicate it on your own and it actually tastes decently good but then you get to eat the original again and you’re like “oh god what the hell I’ve been making garbage this whole time why did I think I could beat the original”

[msvorderofoperations]

New dream diary.

This one was kind of odd in its tone. At times deathly serious, and others incredibly superficial. I dreamed that I was in a far future kind of setting where this game had kind of taken over the world at large for good and for ill. It existed in many forms: a miniature based war game, a trading card game, and mixed reality massively multiplayer online video game. I say mixed reality, not just as something that incorporates real world objects into itself, but as something that directly affects reality as well. It also conferred great powers on high level players. But I will get back to this in a bit.

Another aspect of this dream was that I was in a polyamorous relationship in a sort of hub and spoke system. Myself and a few other people were romantically involved with this one woman, but weren't really involved with each other. And for whatever reason, the polycule all lived together, except for the woman we were all romantically tied to. Some of them I got along with great, and we were good friends, but this one guy I did not much like at all and we pointedly tried to spend as little time around each other as possible. This is borne out at one point by this guy talking up how much time they are going to spend together the next time she visits, and I take him at his word. But when she arrives, she specifically wants to be with me.

This is awkward for a number of reasons, not all of them interpersonal. I had been prepping for a day to myself, playing a single player version of the card game which was offline but could still record progress and would update my associated stats upon the next time I logged in. I also had not fully bathed, and this is where the dream took a very tonally strange tangent. Instead of bathing at home like would be the sane thing to do, I instead find out about a fully automated robotic bathhouse in India, and opt to use it instead. Doing so involves me fully teleporting myself to the complete other side of the world, which I do as a lark. But in doing so, I forget to bring my shampoo, so my hair is still a greasy mess. And again, instead of just doing it at home, I feel the need to make the trip once more.

Unsurprisingly, one of the things our shared romantic interest wanted to do together was have sex. But in thinking I was not going to be partaking today, I gratified myself shortly before she arrived. Which the dude who lied about her being with him today (sorry that I don't have names here, my dream did not provide any so I have to describe everyone in terms of my relationship to them) makes fun of me for doing. Which, in addition to being shitty by itself, he implies that by doing so I am unworthy to be in a relationship with her because of it. For her part, she does not seem to pay this any mind. She is actually quite interested in the details, because she finds the idea of me touching myself to the idea of her very hot. From here the narrative starts to pull away, as for whatever reason my dreams will often be sexually charged but they almost never actually feature any explicit sexual content.

The narrative then takes on a more limited-omniscient perspective, showcasing the shared goings-on of the other members of the polycule as I am away with our shared love. Specifically, it starts with one of the people I am friends with investigating a recent, and hugely influential moment that happened in the MMO part of this game. It was a group activity that involved trying to stop the latest attack from the antagonist faction, which went about as bad as it could have. All of us had different roles and skill sets, which we had tried to apply as best we could to minimize the impact of this event. I will spare the unimportant details, but the long and short of it is the my role was the intelligence gatherer, and I found out what the object of this enemy incursion was. Despite being about a large scale attack across many parts of the in-game space, the main objective for them was a bomb, planted in a playground at a school. I tried to warn people of this, saying "Its a bomb, in the mirror in the playground." But for whatever reason my messages were becoming garbled and what people heard was "In the mirror underground" and no one could make sense of it, so they took it as being spam.

While the thing with the bomb was happening, the guy who was determined to undermine me was dealing with his own problems. He had proper heard my warning and had been trying to make his way to the school to either disarm it or evacuate. Unfortunately, he had run afoul of the bunch of extremely dangerous high-level enemy monsters. They were the weird giant worm-like things that could move shockingly fast, and had minor reality warping powers. Specifically, they had the ability to redirect kinetic weapons fire elsewhere, which was a big problem because that was the main way this dude engaged in combat. The last time he had fought these things, they redirected his bullets into another member of the polycule, and killed them. Vowing to not let that happen again, he instead tries to escape, but it proves very difficult as he has become surrounded. The one merciful thing about these worm enemies is that while they have incredible hearing and absurd reaction speed, they are completely blind. So while he can't find his way free or fight out, as long as he stays calm he isn't in much danger himself.

Eventually though, the time to stop the attack passes and the bomb does end up going off. It is discovered in the aftermath that the reason the placement went undetected was because the explosive being used is a new, novel compound that does not read as an explosive. It is functionally an inert mud in basically all circumstances, but once the catalyst is introduce it becomes a hyper-powerful energetic explosive. To the point that all it took to blow up this whole school was something about the size of a tennis ball. And the very weird thing is, the catalyst is blood. Any kind will work.

Also in the ongoing investigation, there is a secondary site where no lives were lost but has fairly significant structural damage. In winding back the game state to see how bad it actually is, he sees that a player was present at the time of the event. It turns out to be the guy who was trapped by the worms. It seems in his frustration at having not been able to stop the explosion, in the ensuing chaos after he went on a destructive rampage in a place where there were no people present and then used the editing powers granted to high-level players to make it look like it was done by the opposing faction.

When my time alone with my paramour comes to an end, my friend quietly confronts me with the information that the other guys was responsible for the secondary destruction. We are keeping it on the down low not because we place any blame on him, but because we see that this event has enormously effected him and that we want to try and help him work through what he's going through. So we opt to try and organize a group activity for the whole polycule.

While that is happening, the subject of all our affection tries to make good with the dude who is clearly Going Through It and low-key making it everyone's problem. She tries assisting him with other aspects of the game like the TCG and the miniature, but at every juncture, he brushes her off and intimates that he is better off alone. Which obviously is very upsetting to her.

In the meantime however, we have finished our planning for the group excursion. We opt for something simple in just taking a walking tour of an area downtown and sampling the food and drink available at the best places there. As we are are out and about, an incident occurs. In a shared roadway, a dude in a pickup truck doesn't stop for us, and I end up doing pretty intense damage to it to stop it before it hits anyone. In trying to fix up his truck in the aftermath, I end up kind of ham-fistedly apply the high-level editing powers that I have only recently been given access to. I try to restore the surface of the hood of the truck back to what it was, but end up incorporating the surface of the road and the dirt beneath into it's appearance. While my friend shows me more direct ways of utilizing the powers to more useful ends, the troubled guy goes to check on the driver.

It's at this point that this take a turn for the worse. The driver is fully unconscious, which is odd because the truck had been moving very slowly at the time of the accident. In checking his face against records, it turns out that this guys is a known collaborator with the enemy faction and is wanted by the authorities. As this is happening we have opened the hood to see if there was any damage to the engine that we can repair. And we find...nothing. No engine, no battery, nothing that would allow this car to move under it's own power. Just ruptured containers and what looks for all the world like clay soil. We quickly realize that this car was being used to smuggle whatever this substance is, and by hiding it in the engine bay and impelling it through unseen means, cursory searches wouldn't find it. Some kid grabs a chunk of it, and before anyone can stop him, all hell breaks loose.

In handling it and tossing it to himself, it hits a mosquito and it becomes abundantly clear what this stuff is. it explodes with a incredible report, and the whole scene erupts in incredible carnage. Because of how crowded this place had been, the viscera keeps reigniting it, all while the shock of the explosions push the remaining amounts of the stuff all over the place. It has a terrible cascading effect where is seems that there is no safe place to be. Even those off street level in the buildings above are succumbing to secondary and tertiary explosions. I am able to survive the initial blast and try to corral people to stem the tide of violence, but nothing seems to be working. While all this mayhem is going on, I see my love trying to save someone who has broken off from the group. And I see in excruciating detail as a rogue piece of debris catches her in the head and immediately and soundlessly kills her.

At this point I wake up.

[keen-umbreon]

yall i am craving some of the foods that my old partner from team plasma made me all the time and i am so tempted to try calling all his phone numbers and visiting his old haunts. he grew all his ingredients in this wonderful green house that he technically-illegally owned off the side of a route. so it wouldnt be the same from a store, i know cuz ive tried ones from stores or from other people.

i miss: his crispy fried soy curls with nutritional yeast and veggie seasoning. his black-bean brownies. his apricorn smoothies with spinach and bananas and lovingly picked berry combos. his home-made-go-meals of buns filled with seitan sausage and cheese substitute or my favorite berry chunks that he'd always have on days where we'd have a raid on a breeding mill. his little candies that he would shape almost like pokemon but theyd always be lopsided. the way he'd always be able to find some form of food that would work great with whatever tea id bring and wed have a short picnic before we got yelled at for absconding for too long. how hed laugh at my jokes even when they were drier than the desert resort and his laugh was this quiet chuckle but it made my world. his roast potatoes with a thick garlic-and-brown-sugar glaze. how we'd both work so well together like the faces of a klink. his little sitrus-and-pecha buns that hed give me to take home the days after we got into fights with each other over different opinions as an apology. how hed love everything i cooked for him back, teas and breads and over-dried fruit leather. how i eventually learned how to read his blank facial expressions clearer than anything and ive never been able to read a human face but i could read his. he understood me and i understood him.

i wonder if he'd hate me now. if he would punch me in the face like he did that one counter-protester at that gym rally. hed probably do worse to me. i wonder if he got out. as part of my parole, i cant contact anyone from plasma. i miss him so much, i feel like im half empty. he wouldnt recognize me, hed see me only as the enemy that we fought against for so long. i dont even recognize myself today. my hairs the wrong color, wrong length, my facial expressions all different, the way i interact with others all wrong, other people are all wrong, trainers and pokemon all wrong, food tastes wrong, im all wrong. im going to bed. maybe everything will feel right in the morning light. i miss feeling right. i miss the certainty. i miss him. damnit alum.

#ooc all the food is from meals ive made or have been made for me and i legit miss those foods but i can never make them right anymore

#ooc so i put that feeling into this and also the feeling of missing someone important and of not recognizing yourself in the mirror anymore

#ooc this is a recovery story similar to mine but hes still in the early stages in some ways

#ooc i had so many nights where id miss something little and then id miss something like the feeling of closeness and shared bond

#ooc and then id go from missing the friendly hugs to full blown wishing i could go back to it

#ooc its the worst feeling to realize that you cant EVER go back to how you were before

#ooc but i wouldnt change my current happiness for that bond ever im a lot better of a person and a lot happier without them

[le-velo-pour-dru]

I miss being super important to people :0