#I have nothing else to lose at this point

[imaginationiskeyy]

I am so embarrassed to be asking this of you guys but I am barely scraping by and don't know what else I can do, this is a last ditch attempt to keep my house. I am about to lose my house as I am not able to keep up with my bills I am struggling majorly and don't know what to do other than ask if anybody could help? I will be homeless in the next month if I don't pay back enough to the landlord for now I have raised enough till the end of the month but only enough for that no food etc and then there's still more that I owe and next months. I can't afford food, transport to get to work zilch, nothing. I hate to do this but please can anybody help me? It doesn't matter how much you can spare, ANYTHING is much appreciated.

Please I will be out if I don't pay up the money by the end of this month I just can't seem to get myself out of this shit hole I'm in really feel like just giving in at this point.

need £552 by end of month or I will lose my house I feel like I'm not going to get out of this.

If anybody does want to donate and try and help me you can here

I have 12 days left to get this money or I am going to be homeless and out in the cold for the winter months with my dog please I just don't know what to do at this time anymore.

[m3l0nfl0at]

just thinking about you - s. gojo

Gojo Satoru x GN! Reader ; ANGST, hurt/comfort, spoilers for non manga readers, happy ending, swearing, 1.3k words, GOJO STANS WE UP BCOS HES COMING BACK TODAY!!

summary ; GOJO COMEBACK BCOS I SAID SO

melon’s recommended melody ; little freak - harry styles

Ever since the day Satoru died, you wanted nothing to do with Jujutsu society. Why would you want anything to do with the society who sold your partner as a mere weapon and nothing more. If it wasn’t for them putting all the pressure on him, maybe he would still be here with you, in your arms. You wonder if there was anything you did wrong leading up to the fight. Maybe not telling him you loved him enough, that he wasn’t just the strongest to you, or telling him to give up Jujutsu society altogether after the multiple incidents with Geto. However, that’s just you being selfish, you knew Gojo wanted to change the society he grew up in and who were you to stop him.

You remember the day he left so vividly, teleporting you to some strange city only to tell you to stay. He caressed your face repeating that he wanted nothing bad to happen to you and this was the only way to keep you safe. That whole night you spent the day in each other’s arms, repeating to him that he was going to win. To which he made a snarky comment saying, he would never lose to an asshole who calls himself “The King of Curses”. You remember that night an ugly feeling in your stomach settled and never went away. If you had to put your finger on it, you think you could call it anxiety. Anxiety, that if Satoru did come back, would he come back as the same person you knew and loved?

What would happen if he killed Sukuna and wasn’t able to save Megumi? Could he live with himself? Would he be able to sleep at night knowing he couldn’t save one of his students? Who was to say Satoru is guaranteed a win to begin with? You had to hold on to a string of false hope that Satoru would be able to defeat someone as strong as Sukuna. Not even letting your brain allow the option to think negatively at a time like this. So that morning you really cemented it into his brain that he will win and he’ll come back to you safe and sound. It was the only thing you could do. In this moment you wish you were a strong Jujutsu Sorcerer like himself. So you could possibly fight beside him, give him a fighting chance but you barely made it to be a grade one sorcerer.

Satoru reassured you saying that he was the strongest, nothing was going to go wrong and he would come back to you unharmed. As he warped back to where the fight was, you went to lie in bed. Not allowing yourself to think about anything else but Satoru winning. Yet, day turned into night and night turned into days. No one called to reassure you he was fine. You thought maybe he’s staying back to make sure his students were okay before making his way to you. Satoru was always one to arrive late for an event but he never once arrived late for anything pertaining to you. A couple of days pass by, as you look at your phone to see Shoko calling you. Your heart drops, palms are sweating, and your knees feel shaky. You were hesitant to answer, Gojo never said Shoko would call you if he won, hell Gojo said he would be with you after he won. So where is he, he won right? He had to have won, winning is in his birthright!

Answering that call was the worst decision of your life, Shoko told you how she had Satoru’s body and intended to use it. She explained the plan, how Gojo agreed to let Yuta use his body. You felt angry at Satoru for not explaining that he had enough doubts to the point where he had to make a backup plan.

Sick to your stomach that he could let himself get used like that beyond his death? What about what you wanted for him, what about how you wanted him here to properly grieve him. You hung up the call on Shoko not wanting to hear anything else, Satoru is dead. Not only did he lose but he left you here with no one, nothing in this stupid city he teleported you to. You walked out of the building, seeing the snow fall, feeling bitterness seep into you. How dare life go on without Satoru Gojo. You balled up the cold snow in your bare hands wanting to feel something, whether it be the cold or the burn in your hand from how freezing the ice was. Yet nothing came, you let go seeing your hand red and red is what you were seeing. “I hate you Satoru Gojo! I hope you hear that up there! How could you do this to me! How could you leave me here alone!” Feeling the cold hit your face as you scream into the wind. You didn’t move, feeling the cold nip at your body that was hot with anger.

After that day, you realized you couldn’t change anything. No outcome could bring Satoru back to you. In this cruel world the only thing you can do after one dies, is live on. You got numerous calls from Shoko choosing to ignore every single one. What could she possibly tell you that would make you feel better? Going outside to watch the snow melt away, hugging your knees. You hoped someone beat “The King of Curses” ass. That bastard had taken Satoru away from you, you’d hope he’d burn in hell. Snapping out of your thoughts when you heard the snow crunching from down the road. You turn around quickly wielding your cursed tool, the worst it could be was a curse but it’s not like you couldn’t handle it. At this point you really couldn’t care if you died, maybe dying would make you feel something you haven’t felt in days.

“Woah, no need to wield your tool!”, you freeze knowing that voice from anywhere. Your frozen state soon turns to anger wanting to kill whatever curse this was playing with you. Not yielding, he steps closer as you slice your tool downward warning whatever that was to not come any closer to you. “Stop right there, whatever you are!”, you have to remind yourself that he was dead. That’s not him, it can’t be, Satoru puts up his hands. “You know if you answered Shoko’s calls you would know I was coming.”, Satoru glances at you but it was no use. Knowing there was nothing more he could say, he lifts up his shirt showing you the scar where his body was cut in half. You falter, he sees your eyes soften just a bit. “Only I know you’re here, I teleported you here. I made sure no curses were in this area before taking you here.”, you drop your tool. Still feeling hesitant, debating if you were dreaming or Satoru was actually in front of you.

“I’m dreaming, the cold finally got to my head. You’re not here Satoru, you’re dead, you’ve been dead. Oh my god, I've got to get out of this town, I’m going crazy.” You cover your face with your hands, rubbing your eyes as hard as you could. Shit, maybe you need to get more sleep because you will not allow yourself to hallucinate like this. Feeling his hands peel your hands off your face, you start tearing up. “I’m here, I’m real.”, you shake your head not believing that this is real. “Am I dead? Is this heaven?”, Satoru laughs, pulling you into a hug. You feel the rumbling in his chest as you lay against it. “I didn’t win or come back unharmed but I told you I would come back to you, didn’t I?”, you allow yourself to feel this moment, scared that this was all a dream. If this was a dream you hoped to never wake up. Wanting to hold onto him forever after almost losing him for good. “I’m here, I’m not leaving anytime soon. I promise.”

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: idc what happens later today, hes back bcos i said so

@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[madamescarlette]

.

[scruncheduppaper]

if i see one more ford hate post on my tl im genuinely going to go insane

YES hes a dick but a) hes a fictional character b) he CHANGES and DEVELOPS and REDEEMS HIMSELF BY THE END OF THE SERIES and c) ITS COOL THAT HE HAS AN EGO. ITS COOL

and also im starting to lose interest in fiddlestan because at this point its becoming clear that people only ship it because they dont like ford and they think that fidds doesnt deserve him AS IF THE CONFLICT ISNT THE APPEAL OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP??? AS IF IT ISNT THE POINT??? AND AS IF THEIR RECONCILIATION BY THE END OF THE STORY ISNT A PERFECT ENDING TO FORDS ARC im gonna bite someone i swear.

look someone on twitter said that “some fiddlestan shippers are just fiddauthor shippers in disguise” and its PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF because IM SORRY DO YOU GUYS NOT SHIP CHARACTERS BECAUSE YOU’RE INTERESTED IN DIFFERENT RELATED CHARACTER DYNAMICS?? WHAT ARE YOU JUST HERE FOR THE LOVEY DOVEY SHIT??? the REASON why fiddlestan is INTERESTING TO ME in the FIRST PLACE is because it elaborates on both of these characters with respect to their relationships to ford!!! there’s nothing wrong with the fact that theyre connected to him!!! these arent real people, these are characters that act as vehicles to explores messages in stories!!! of COURSE i only ship fiddlestan in relation to fiddauthor, why would i cut ford out here completely when it’s SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING TO RECOGNISE THEIR COMPLEX DYNAMICS IN RELATION TO HIM???

and i hear people going like “oh well i just wanna see fiddleford happy!!” and im like. but without the conflict. like who is he. some twink you can just mold however you want?? without his Flaws and his Complex Relationships with his family and ford and his eventual descent into madness What are you Seeing in him?? not to mention the fact that i dont think stan would treat him better anyways lol

and also im getting the vibe that the reason a lot of people ship fiddlestan nowadays is because people like. dislike ford?? and i said this just now but like hes genuinely such an interesting character as well and it makes me sad to see that the only people who appreciate his character idolise him without seeing his flaws and literally everyone else just hates him like YALL TALK SHIT ABT LIKING MORALLY GREY CHARACTERS BUT WHEN A CHARACTER ACTUALLY IS MORALLY GREY YOU TURN AROUND AND GO LIKE “ehhhhh” like COME ON PLEASE YOU HAVE TO SEE THE VISION FORD IS STILL COOL AND IM GONNA DEFEND HIM WITH MY LIFE

its actually kinda pissing me off the amount of fluffy characterisation fiddlestan gets within the fandom, at the expense of ford, bc oh my fucking godddd PLEASEEE CAN WE HAVE THE ERA WHEN I FIRST DISCOVERED FIDDLESTAN BACKKK BECAUSE THE CONTENT THEN WAS SO FUCKING GOOD

[geotjwrs]

Hey is it possible if you could do Jenna x male reader based off the song Dark Red by Steve Lacy? Thank you

only you babe

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The faint sound of music hummed in the background, barely loud enough to be heard over the quiet tension in the room. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his phone clutched in his hand, his eyes staring blankly at the screen. It had been an hour since Jenna had texted, and her silence felt louder than anything else in his life right now.

"I think you know that I miss you…"

The lyrics echoed in his mind, but all he could focus on was the gnawing feeling in his gut—the one that told him something was wrong. He hadn’t heard from her since their last conversation, and now every passing second felt like a countdown to something he didn’t want to face.

He stood up, pacing the small apartment. He’d always had this fear, deep down, that Jenna might slip away. That one day, she would realize she didn’t need him. And lately, that fear had started to feel more real. The way she’d been distant, the way her messages came less frequently, it all pointed to something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

"Something bad is ’bout to happen to me…"

The words from the song buzzed in his head, like a warning he couldn’t ignore.

Y/N ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything bearing down on him. He knew he should call her, talk to her, ask her what was really going on. But every time he thought about it, that voice in the back of his mind whispered, What if she’s done? What if you push her away?

Just as he was about to give in to the anxiety, his phone buzzed. A message.

Jenna: “Can we talk?”

Y/N’s heart dropped. He stared at the screen, his hands shaking slightly. Those words—“Can we talk?”—were never a good sign. He could feel the blood draining from his face, and the room suddenly felt too small, too hot.

He sat down again, his mind racing with every possible worst-case scenario. She was leaving, wasn’t she? She had found someone else, or maybe she had finally gotten tired of him. Y/N’s thoughts spiraled out of control, and before he could stop himself, he typed out a response.

Y/N: “Is everything okay?”

The seconds stretched into minutes, and still no response. Y/N stood up again, pacing even faster now, his palms sweaty as he waited for her reply. He couldn’t breathe. His mind was clouded with every possible thing that could go wrong.

"I think I’m losin’ it…"

He looked around the apartment, his gaze falling on the little things that reminded him of her. The jacket she’d left hanging on the back of his chair. The coffee mug she always used. The picture of the two of them sitting on the shelf, smiling like nothing in the world could ever come between them.

But now, Y/N wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t been sure for a while, and it scared him more than anything.

Finally, his phone buzzed again. He snatched it up, his heart pounding in his chest as he read her message.

Jenna: “Yeah, but… I just feel like things have been off between us lately.”

Y/N closed his eyes, feeling a lump form in his throat. He had known this was coming. He had felt it in every silence, in every missed call, in every time she had looked at him like she was seeing someone else. But hearing her say it, seeing it in black and white on his screen, made it real.

Y/N: “I know… I’ve felt it too.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to tell her how scared he was, how much he loved her, how the thought of losing her made him feel like he was drowning. But he didn’t. Instead, he just waited, feeling like the walls were closing in around him.

An hour later, Jenna showed up at his door. She stood there, her arms crossed, looking at him with those dark eyes that had always been able to read him like a book. There was something different in them tonight, though—something he couldn’t quite place.

Y/N stepped aside, letting her in. They hadn’t talked in person for a couple of days, and the air between them felt heavy, loaded with everything left unsaid.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice almost fragile as she walked past him.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, his throat tight. He closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a second before following her into the living room.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, the space between them feeling much bigger than it had ever felt before. Y/N fidgeted with his hands, trying to come up with something to say, but his mind was blank.

Jenna looked at him, her expression soft but serious. “Y/N… I don’t know what’s been going on with us lately. But I can’t shake this feeling that something’s wrong.”

Y/N swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted to tell her everything—about how terrified he was of losing her, how he’d been feeling this weight of uncertainty pressing down on him for weeks. But instead, he just nodded, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, he’d make everything worse.

“Me too,” he finally managed to say. “I’ve felt it too.”

Jenna sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t want us to fall apart, Y/N. But lately, it feels like we’re not even on the same page anymore. Like we’re both just waiting for something bad to happen.”

Y/N’s heart sank. That was exactly how he had been feeling. Like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to say she was done with him. He hadn’t realized she was feeling the same way.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N said, his voice cracking slightly. He hated how vulnerable he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. This was Jenna, the girl he had loved for longer than he could remember, and the thought of her walking out of his life was unbearable.

Jenna’s eyes softened at his words. She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “I don’t want to lose you either. But we need to figure this out, Y/N. We can’t keep going on like this, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

Y/N nodded, squeezing her hand tightly. “I know. I just… I’ve been so scared, Jenna. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize you didn’t want this anymore. That you didn’t want me.”

Jenna’s expression softened even more, and she moved closer to him, her hand still gripping his. “Y/N… that’s not it. I love you. I always have. But we can’t keep letting fear control us. We need to talk to each other, not shut down every time things get hard.”

Y/N closed his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. She wasn’t leaving. She didn’t want to leave. But the fear, the doubt, had been eating him alive for weeks, and now that it was out in the open, he realized just how much it had been affecting them.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head that I didn’t realize I was pushing you away.”

Jenna shook her head, her thumb gently brushing over the back of his hand. “We’ve both been doing it. But it doesn’t have to be like this. We can fix this, Y/N. We just need to be honest with each other.”

Y/N nodded, finally meeting her gaze. “I want that. I want us to be okay.”

Jenna smiled softly, leaning in to press her forehead against his. “We will be. But we have to stop letting fear get in the way.”

They sat there like that for a while, their foreheads touching, the weight of their unspoken fears slowly lifting. The tension between them wasn’t gone, but it felt lighter now, more manageable.

As the night wore on, Y/N realized that the dark cloud that had been hanging over them for so long was starting to fade. There were still things they needed to work through, still conversations they needed to have, but for the first time in weeks, Y/N felt like maybe they could make it through this.

And as he held Jenna close, he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t going to let fear take her away from him. Not again.

[sanakiras]

DISTRACTION

PAIRING — xu minghao x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.5k

SYNOPSIS — you can’t help staring at your best friends’s hands. when he pushes you to tell him why, things in your relationship take a turn.

TAGS — minghao in a suit, explicit sexual content, pure self-indulgence, porn with no plot, fem!reader

NOTE — there’s something sooo attractive about a man having long fingers. also i just have a crush on the8. no i will not elaborate. might delete this later bc i don’t like it. oh well. enjoy :o

lately, whenever being around your best friend, you’ve been... distracted.

for some reason, you’ve always liked it when men have long fingers. obviously the best known reason for that is a lewd one, but for you, it’s more than that. long fingers are hypnotizing to you.

of course it was minghao’s face that drew you in first. plump lips, eyes that could both kill and make you melt under their gaze, a strong jaw, dark hair often slicked back with a pair of sunglasses sitting on top.

then you noticed his figure. minghao is tall — long legs, long arms, long torso. what drew you in about him was the control he has over it, alongside his flexibility. his movement is always swift, sharp and coordinated. not one to stumble over his own feet.

he became a close friend to you in no-time. within the first months of meeting him, you developed an admiration towards him, and that continued to grow into a crush you feel nothing if not insecure about.

because despite knowing him well, he’s far from an open book.

he’s not once given you the idea that he likes you the same way you like him, and now that he’s become such a good friend of yours, the last thing you’d want is to lose the friendship you’ve built with him.

so you keep it to yourself.

or, well, you try.

his current outfit makes that ridiculously hard. you’ve never seen him in a suit before.

while you weren’t all that excited for the black-tie event hosted by your faculty, just the sight of him has changed your mood like a whole day’s worth of caffeine.

and when he walks over to you, all you can do is admire him. the fabric suits his body like a glove, with several silver rings adorning his fingers and his frequently worn small hoop earrings to match them. the beautifully subtle black eye pencil brings out the colors of his eyes and styled hair.

“you look like a dream,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth when he steps before you, the tone of his voice as gentle as the smile he gives you.

heat rushes to your cheeks. “so do you. never expected to see you in a suit, but you clean up nice.”

he chuckles at your sarcasm. “thank you.”

as he tells you about — whatever it is, you honestly hardly remember a thing of the conversation — you suddenly come to the deafening conclusion that you’re nowhere near as subtle with your glances as you thought you were, which certainly bursts your bubble a bit.

“you keep doing that.” he muses, tilting his head as he looks at you with curiosity.

“what?”

“staring at my hands.”

“i’m not—i don’t stare.”

“what else would you call it? constant-looking?”

“hilarious. really.”

when you don’t say anything else, he purses his lips, hoping to get a little more out of you. you’ve got to give him credits for his determination. “so, what’s so interesting about my hands?”

with a simple shrug of your shoulders, you pretend to be casual, like he didn’t catch you staring at him. “they’re not interesting, just… nice.”

“nice?”

“can’t we just drop this? and by ‘we’ i mean you.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “we’re friends. you can tell me, i won’t judge.”

“you? not judging anyone? that’d be almost suspicious.”

the retort makes him smile to the point it hurts his jaw. “i won’t judge you.”

a sigh rolls past your lips. “it’s no big deal, i just… like it when people have nice hands.”

“and why’s that?”

“does everything you like need to have a reason?”

"no, i guess not."

a playfulness that stirs doubt in you flashes behind his eyes, and you’re forced to put a halt to the conversation when one of your fellow faculty members walks up to the two of you with a glass of champagne, which you could not be happier with.

all you can do is hope minghao won’t bring up the topic again, the redness in your cheeks betraying you.

unfortunately, he does eventually bring it up again, once he’s gotten you home.

what his exact words were is difficult to remember, but now that he’s pushed you back onto your bed, you can’t find it in you to give a damn.

your brain feels foggy and a thin layer of sweat begins to form on your neck while he uses his hands to unbutton the white dress shirt, his impatience getting the best of him for once.

even though you’re busy pulling your top off, it’s hard to divert your gaze from his hands and chest, which brings him to tilt his head at you. “you’re staring again.”

“if you don’t want me to stare, don’t give me a reason to.”

“oh, so this whole thing is really just my fault?” he taunts, getting so annoyed with the damn buttons on his shirt not working with him that he leaves the bottom half like it already was, only the upper half of his chest peeking through.

once he lays his eyes on your half-naked form, you spot a growing desperation and impatience in his features, which is rare on him.

much to your surprise, he’s eager and quick, refusing to waste a single second. his hands have already pulled you towards him by your thighs before you can even comprehend it.

the thin silver necklace touches your warm skin when he leans down to kiss you, the last thing you’d imagined you’d be doing tonight — and it’s better than you anticipated.

he pries your legs open with a nudge of his knee, and just when you want to look down to his hand on your skin, he pushes two fingers into you, curling it upwards.

your hands immediately fly to his upper arms in response to the sudden intrusion, but it only makes you crave more.

his lips latch onto your cheeks, jaw and neck, placing wet kisses everywhere he can reach while his long fingers move in and out of you.

“just two and you’re already so tight — you can take another one, though, can’t you?”

how sweet of him to pose it as a question, an offer.

you both know damn well he’s gonna keep going either way.

minghao doesn’t know what it is about you that just utterly sets him off. it might be your constant pessimism, your snarky delivery of sarcastic little comments, the way you needlessly tease him all the time — or maybe it’s that whenever he sees you, he wants nothing more for you to get the fuck on top of him, moaning his name.

who knows.

“why don’t you just try me?” you ask rhetorically, accidentally clenching around his digits when he moves them again.

minghao chuckles, baffled that you’ve still got such an attitude, even when you’re at his mercy. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, though. “right. maybe i should just do that.”

a third finger prodding into your hole makes you whine the loudest you have so far. he smirks a little when noticing the way you’re fighting so hard to maintain your composure, and the noise of your squelching wetness begins to become embarrassingly loud.

but it isn’t enough for him.

usually, it’s not at all like him to be insatiable or greedy. but all he can think of right now is that he wants more — to be closer with you, deeper.

he feels his own lust in every motion, every thrust of his fingers, every twitch of his cock. it makes him wonder if he’s ever wanted something, no, someone this badly.

his next move goes unnoticed by you since you’ve got your eyes closed and head back, but then you feel it, and it’s like you snap awake, an electric jolt making you jerk forward.

when you look down, he eagerly runs his tongue up and down your pussy, fingers remaining buried inside you.

“oh my god—” you stutter out, hand clutching onto the pillow but quickly moving down to grab his hair.

lost in your own pleasure, you push his head down, the lower half of his face coated in your arousal — fuck, he wants to do this for hours.

he proceeds to curl his fingers again, and he must’ve hit a good spot, because your legs are beginning to tremble, moans shorter and higher-pitched. “fuck, hao, it’s too much, i’m too close—”

“are you?” he rhetorically asks, pushing his digits as deep as possible, sucking on your clit, hollowing his cheeks. even when you try to close your legs, he firmly keeps them open.

your hips buck into his face when you cum, knees shaking, and he presses his thumb on your pussy, which makes your eyes roll back.

propping yourself up on your elbows, you suddenly feel his fingers slowly sliding out of you, and just that feeling alone already turns you on again. he sits across from you, still between your legs, and his fingers are completely coated in the sticky wetness that’s still dripping down your cunt.

he pushes them in his mouth, licking them clean, some of your arousal remaining on his lips.

“please say you’ll let me do that again.”

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[livelaughlovesubs]

for your aniversary can u do aventurine w/ Forcing them to divulge past tramaus or secrets and calling them a mocking name or title?

Oh- being sadistic much aren’t we? (Edit: I went overboard)

Mean!reader x Aventurine (?) - reader is gon

Warning: no smut lul, reader’s real egotistic, bringing up past trauma, dark content (?)

Anniversary event

Loud and obnoxious, with flashing lights all over the establishment. The quiet lobby music fading in and out of the conversations, with the sound of dice and cards taking the front stage. Occasionally, a cry for help or laughter would break out, or a scream of despair. Indeed, so was the never changing atmosphere of the casino. You sat by the bar counter, clicking the metal rod that came with your drink against the glass. Then, you took a sip of it.

Long have you gotten bored of these simple stimulations, the feeling of life and death being at stake was no where to be found. That’s because you overdid it, you found out all the tricks to success, and now you were waiting for someone else to notice as well, to have a fair and unpredictable game with them. One of the reasons of why you didn’t stop coming to the gamblers house, the other one being it has become a part of your routine.

And, as if your prayers have been heard by the aeons, the day where you’d met such a person really came. It came in the form of a surprising defeat. You stared at the cards of your opponent, glistening sweat rolling down the side of your forehead, hieratic heart beat pounding in your head. “I lost.” A small whisper among all the other noises in the background, then the corners of your mouth twitched upwards.

“Fuck- haha, I really lost huh?” Your tone was a little irritated but all in all amused. Then you turned your gaze to your opponent, eyeing him up and down. A handsome young man with blond hair and fancy clothing, a soft smile plastered on his face. “Sorry, pal, but that’s what it means to gamble.” You shook your head, grinning, “no need to apologise, I should thank you.. erm?” “Aventurine.” “Ahh~ aventurine, from the IPC huh? A big shot, thanks for doing me the honours of playing with you. Seems like the rumours aren’t just rumours this time.”

It was the truth, you weren’t mad in the slightest, no, you were glad you found a new challenge to overcome. Though, this was a difficulty you didn’t expect, because the next time and the time after you did nothing but lose. This was more than skill, there was something else about him that causes him to win. You were sure of it after playing against him so often. That’s why you decided to play dirty.

By the next time you two played, you’ve done some background check on him. Well, not just some, you knew everything about him afterwards. From the smallest things to some high peaks and lows of his life. Once again, you entered the casino, an unusual confidence in your steps as you headed straight for the table where Aven was playing. “Hey Aven! Still on your winning streak aren’t ya?” Due to your many encounters, you’ve grown accustomed to calling each other by a nickname.

“Oh, hey palm still haven’t given up?” The boy asked you, turning his head around to give you a small greeting. He was still in the middle of a game, though he looked unfocused now that you came. “You bet, I won’t stop until I’ve won.” Suddenly, he laughed, pushing his bangs back. “That’s the spirit! Fine, let me finish this one first.” It didn’t take long until he was done, and without doubt, he won. Afterward he pointed at the chair next to him, hinting at you to sit down.

“No, I have something special planned for this match. I booked us a vip room.” You moved your head in the direction of the single rooms, smiling brightly. “Ah? My, you are making me excited, lead the way my friend.” He said, voice rid of any suspicion. After all, even in the worst case scenario, he could still take you in a fight. Your grin widened as you walked over to the rooms, opening a door and making a hand gesture at him, “after you.”

He nodded, as a way of saying thanks, then sat down all comfortable onto the couch. “This room sure is fancier than the rest, even the couch is softer.” You popped onto the armchair opposite of him, taking out the cards, and mixing them. “The atmosphere is so different, it’s so quiet.” Aven stared at your hands, wondering if he should trust you with the task of dealing, “hey, pal, we gon’ switch who’s dealing every turn?” You answered, “of course.”

After you were done with the mixing, you asked him, “what do you want to play?” The Blondie chirped, “your choice, you wanted to challenge me after all.” You hummed in acknowledgment, cooing delighted, “how about hold ‘em?” In return he responded, “bring it on.” While you were busy laying out the cards, he opened a suitcase and took out come chips, commenting, “say, how much do you want to bet?” You glanced at him for a split second, then said, “how about we start with 88 million?” Aven smirked, “sounds good to me.”

A few drinks and quite a few poker games later, the game was finally spiralling towards the end. Playing something like this in a one on one situation was way different than in a big group, it depended a tad more on luck than probability. Even so, his luck seems to be as unfair as ever, with how he was holding almost all of the chips now. “You really don’t disappoint, IPC big shot.” You chuckled, slumping back to carefully think it through.

“Hehe, it’s all a coincidence.” Aventurine said, while raising the stakes by 15 million. “Ah? Why the rush, peacock boy?” He was trying to make you fold or go all in, though were your cards really good enough? “Well it’s getting late. So, what’ll it be, my friend?” You smiled, but it wasn’t just a simple smile, it had something sinister and ugly behind it. “You are really dying to get back to the lion’s den, huh?”

A frown appeared on his pretty face, it was gone as fast as it popped up, and he tried to ignore it, “haha, you didn’t brush me as someone opposed to the IPC.” You shook your head, “no, i’m not, not necessarily so. Rather, I’m wondering what you think about it, former slave Aven?” He clenched his fists, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face, his usual cheekiness was gone, instead replaced with a sense of dread, “Y/n, you know what I could do to you when you call me with such a detestable title.”

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve there? Please pardon me then, I was simply joking.” You shrugged, then continued with, “or rather, I was intrigued to know if the rumours are true.” Out of nowhere, he leaned over the table and grabbed you by the collar, chips and cards long discarded on the floor. “What rumours?” Your irritating smirk didn’t dissipate, instead you kept your composure and told him, “how you came from an eradicated planet, and was passed around like an object.”

Something shattered inside him, his hand that was grabbing you felt weak. His stomach curled as he remembered all these ancient— long forgotten times he had eradicated from his storybook, his script. Yet somehow, you still found out, and if he could take you by your word, you weren’t the only one who knew. The overwhelming pounding of his hearts beats were almost hurting, he starred at you, are your lips that were moving, but he couldn’t focus.

Your voice rang in his ears, uncomfortably so, loud, obnoxious yet unclear, a high pitched beep was all that reached him before suddenly— all sounds vanished, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. It was quiet, as if he was stuck battling his own consciousness, plagued by memories he tried to seal away. Did you stop talking? Is that why he couldn’t hear a thing? Though your voice made him furious before, now he was in desperate need to hear you, to block out his terrible, horrible thoughts, to overshadow them.

In the midst of it all, you reached a hand out to him, rubbing the tattoo on his neck. “This is proof for your previous life, ain’t it, slave?” Then you stared right into his hypnotising eyes, a bright shade of magenta paired with a piercing royal blue, the most recognisable feature of him. “I guess everyone wanted a piece of those mesmerising eyes of yours.” His back was soaked in cold sweat now, chills ran down his spine while he dreaded your touch. It was awful, it creeped him out, it make his skin crawl, so much that he wished to scratch and rid his skin to shreds.

“Y-y/n, stop this at once, it’s not funny anymore.” He stumbled over his voice, the confidence he once had was long gone, leaving behind this broken and lazily fixed up man who was still showing signs of being worn out. The often times he was used, sold, and played with, you knew all about it, didn’t you? And instead of feeling a shred of pity —something you seemingly didn’t have— you taunted him.

A giggled erupted from you, then two and more to come. “What a lucky dog you are, since you are still standing as of today. Not as sane as before, but we can overlook that.” He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to speak up, uttering quieter than he wanted, “what do you want, y/n?” There wasn’t a hint of conviction in the way he talked, you had caught him on your hook. “Oh no, nothing, really. Just, isn’t it funny? How a slave like you managed to increase your worth by selling yourself? Like that deal you made with-” “shut up. Just- shut up y/n, stop.. please.”

“…oh?”

“Did I go too far? I’m sorry. Though, you did as well, didn’t you? You dirtied your hands and killed your owner.” He laughed in your face, “I don’t have an owner, I’m not a slave anymore.” Suddenly you have a face as if you’ve been waiting for this moment, grinning from ear to ear as you spoke, “Aha! So you aren’t denying my accusations. Then it must be true that the hands of all these filthy men touched and soiled you, no?”

To your surprise, or as you expected, he slammed his fist onto the table and shouted, “y/n, stop it right now with your ridiculous imagination. I don’t know what it is that you want from me, but leave me the fuck alone.” His face was red, with anger probably, but he trembled, he was scared, disgusted, repulsed even.

You sighed disappointed, before saying, “then, let’s finish this game of poker first. Alright slav—ehem— Aven?” He glared at you, he wanted nothing else but to leave, though he couldn’t when there were still money at stake. “Damn it, you played me, you never wanted to win the poker game- you wanted something else.” In response to his statement, you shrugged with your shoulders again, scoffing, “I’m no big, evil mastermind like that. In fact, it’s much more simple. I am chasing the thrill of it, and the high of a win. Though…”

You trailed off, leaned down to the floor to pick up the cards from the boy, then looking up at him, “I want it to feel like life-and-death for the both of us.” After you collected the two cards from him, he was still standing next to the desk, unmoving. But you ignored it, instead explaining, “since you threw them on the ground, I take it you folded? So, my win this time.” Normally he’s argue, obviously, but this time he was still in tumour, his inner conflicts haven’t been solved yet, he could only watch in despicable silence.

“Don’t look at me like that, wasnt I your old pal? Ah, that reminds me, 88 million— is a pretty number, no? It’s said to be a lucky number, and the price of your body during your first auction.”

At this point, his knees gave out, he felt back onto the couch, eyes blank as he stared at you, cursing underneath his breath. This game has been going on for too long, and it was only going to be worse from here on.

[raayllum]

What do you think it means for corruption to overwhelm someone? Do you think Callum will die or will something else happen to him? Also I thoroughly enjoyed the podcast! (This is theinnermechanismsofmymindtdp but I refuse to link my main blog….)

That's a good question, and one I've spent time thinking about in terms of what a Corrupted S7 Callum would look like. (I lean towards something that directly changes his outward appearance during the possession, which is also a convenient short hand for stakes and thereby recovery when it fades.)

Part of the reason this is somewhat tricky is because there's roughly three Versions of what TDP considers to be 'Corruption,' and because the series makes all of these things regularly overlap with one another.

1) Emotional corruption

This is evidenced by someone who is changing for the worse, which is mostly tethered through Soren's dialogue. This can involve becoming a 'monster' (as seen through Viren and Runaan in S6) due to the weight of their 'sins'.

This of course ties into the series' most consistent form of corruption, which is Literal

2) Corruption through dark magic use.

Viren and Claudia get their literally corrupted faces (similar in nature to Runaan's in the life and death portal) and what made the turning point happen in Lissa and Viren's relationship. This is also symbolic of what scared Callum straight in 2x08 and what continues to scare him in 6x03 ("I did it, I'm ruined, it's too late for me, who cares?"). As Soren notes, continued and regular dark magic usage can change people, even if Claudia insists otherwise ("But I'm not evil, it's me, you know me. I'm still the same person"), but that Viren and most likely Claudia successfully come back from said corruption (and in Viren's case, that's not exclusive to never doing dark magic again, either).

I think it's worth noting that thus far the corrupted face (Viren's from coining Kpp'Ar, and Claudia's in killing Sir Sparklepuff) has come from using a combo of deep and dark magic through the staff, and directly out of acts of love (at least in theory for Viren).

Soren also asks for and/or sees his family members change away from this form of literal, physical corruption as well, and we see that Callum's love for Rayla literally helps heal this corruption in him in S6.

3) Dark magic corruption through infection.

This is arguably the one where the previous notions of corruption are brought together, as Janai explains in 5x03:

Nearly a year ago we tried to reclaim Lux Aurea, but the dark mage's corruption was worse than we realized. It is like a plague. Dark magic infests the city. What life remains there has been twisted into monstrosities. [To Callum and Rayla] You don't get it, do you? We had to kill the infected! Our own people.

There's a few things to unpack here.

Dark magic corruption is being compared to a sickness and plague that infects and festers within. We also see this compared to Kpp'Ar's arm wound and other old wounds ("It is a wound that has been festering for a thousand years" 5x04).

Emotional corruption, bolstered by dark magic use, and corruption through infection can both turn people into "monsters". Both forms strip you of your perceived free will: the corrupted through usage monsters increasingly don't perceive their choices as choices ("I did what I had to do" / "I had to save him, I had no choice!" / "Finnegrin was going to kill you, I didn't have a choice!"). The corrupted through infection monsters are seemingly mindless killers, as Zubeia describes an increasingly complete loss of self (which is also what possession is):

Tis a scratch. A mere nothing. Oh, but it festers. Corrupted. Infected. Oh! I can feel my very being shattering from the inside out. I fear I'm losing everything.

Her love for Avizandum (and Zym), signified by a glowing chest heart, also helps her come back to herself and leave the nightmare (Janai describing things as a nightmares, Aaravos using nightmares to manipulate Callum) behind.

Under duress, you can be forced to kill these monsters in order to protect yourself, even if that means killing your own people / people you know and love.

And last but not least, Amaya also tethers all this back to the idea of change (as we saw most prominently under emotional corruption).

Janai wanted so badly to cleanse Lux Aurea, but we failed. The shadow monsters are dangerous killers. But even worse, just a single scratch

The infected became corrupted shadows in a matter of days.

This consequence of "just one scratch and it's over" is now, of course, the exact same set of stakes Callum has been presented following the successful Star-light truth ritual if he ever does dark magic. If he uses it one more time, it's 'over,' and he knows that, in addition to knowing it'd open back up Aaravos' ability to possess him.

But beware, if you ever use dark magic again, the darkness and corruption will overwhelm you.

(Because I have followed a dark path. I had become a monster. I'm a monster. I fought you, I tried to kill you! He's leading an army of darkness. It's not every day you have an army of 10,000 monster soldiers. The human mage, already tainted by darkness. What if I'm on a path of darkness? Shadow monsters. What life remains there has been twisted into monstrosities. You keep calling it a monster.)

Much like how dark magic corruption through usage isn't exclusive from emotional corruption (they have a tendency to go hand in hand, but it's not synonymous because thus far Callum has been our exception), I don't think dark magic corruption through infection is exclusive from dark magic corruption through usage dark magic. All of them are associated with darkness; all of them can turn you into a monster; all of them are tied to losing your identity and your free will.

This is basically a very long winded way of saying I think Callum being overwhelmed with darkness and corruption may look like a combination of all three of them. While there could either be an instantaneous flip (which works well for drama and potential time crunch), there could also be a slow build (more similar to Zubeia, which could offer up more hope for a fix before it happens fully, even if I think the dragang would ultimately be too late because... it's more dramatic and we gotta get the possession fight, don't we?).

At the very least, physical appearance wise, I'm expecting a corrupted face, if not a fully corrupted form like the Banther. (Partially because it matches up with how the dark magic rune glows red, rather than purple, in Callum's dark magic 2x08 dreams).

Post-corruption / possession / ordeal, Rayla (and/or Ezran) will somehow find a way to get him out of it and bring him back to himself. This is bolstered by her literally being his light to Aaravos' darkness in 4x02 framing wise, 4x07 dialogue wise ("Then take another path, dummy"), and 6x06 literally wise.

If he does die / Rayla kills him, I think it'd be temporary at best as while it'd set his slate clean, I don't think they'd do that a second time, and given that Callum now has to Make a Choice in order to be possessed, that works perfectly fine as him turning himself over to metaphorical death (Aaravos stripping away his identity) and literal in his mind (banking on Rayla fulfilling his promise). I don't think he needs a literal, physical one on top of it, but who knows.

If dark magic is a wound, it can be healed.

If corruption is a sickness, it can be cured.

If possession is a lack of agency, it can be restored.

And if it's darkness, you can find the light.

After all:

(Looks pointedly at mutual salvation theory from Aug 2022)

[deoidesign]

.

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC.

Rafael is driven by his independence and his anger, fighting for what he believes in and deems right to free his people and return peace to Medici. But his tendency to push people away blurs the lines between selflessness and self-destruction, and his desperation for control greatly overshadows the true lack thereof— and it has turned his spark into an all-consuming forest fire, with no way to douse the flames. And everything burned, as promised. OC WEB WEAVE SERIES: RAFAEL RODRIGUEZ.

richard kadrey, aloha from hell // by eyedeeuhs // firestarter; torre florim // by gundula blumi // savannah brown, from 'closer baby closer' // leach; bones uk // ocean vuong, from 'to my father / to my future son' // by ysociety // maybe, i; des rocs // victoria chang, to love anyone // 'smoke and fire 1' by jennifer walton // burn; vorsa // vita sackville-west, from 'solitude' // by spelio // arsonist's lullabye; hozier // shira erlichman, from 'how to become a forest fire'

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

do you have an analysis on Alhaitham and Kaveh having no family in sumeru, (haithams grandma, kavehs mother going to fontaine) so they only had eachother? So their falling out must have hit harder-

Hiya! Thank you so much for the ask!! <333

I have some analyses on Alhaitham and Kaveh being each other's home and family! There's quite a few so I'll be brief with the synopses here as I don't want to bombard you hahaha <3 I have discussed the idea of Alhaitham being the ideal companion/family for Kaveh in an analysis of Kaveh's 2023 birthday letter; the motif of 'home' and what it means for Kaveh and how Alhaitham factors into it; as well as in the relationship between Kaveh's mother and father and how this parallels with Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship.

In terms of Alhaitham and Kaveh's argument, I've discussed Sumeru's concept of the academic family and how Alhaitham and Kaveh's argument served as the dissolution of their found family, as well as an analysis of their argument, specifically from Alhaitham's omitted perspective. I have also speculated life for the two post-fallout, mostly from Alhaitham's perspective as Kaveh (as usual) is more open in his character stories.

You've highlighted a really key aspect of their relationship which haunts me - they met each other after the respective loss of their own families. Kaveh just said goodbye to his mother as Alhaitham enrolled in the Akademiya, just after his own grandmother passed. This passage described in Kaveh's character story 5 describes this, and then him meeting Alhaitham within the same passage.

Kaveh is described to have 'wishful thinking' regarding his and Alhaitham's friendship, in that, where he initially believed that their views aligned, despite the reality they have differing approaches to life, this isn't inherently a negative thing, as it can lead to new philosophies. Kaveh didn't want to believe that their differences were impossible to surmount, and instead that they complimented each other. Perhaps Alhaitham thought so too? They both agreed to work on a joint thesis together, with this conveying the implications of forming an academic family in Sumeru, with Kaveh trusting Alhaitham in picking a topic that highlighted both of their strengths - which ended up being a project revolving around language and architecture; two subjects which Kaveh now believes to exist on opposite sides of the mirror. Initially, this was to demonstrate the good that could come from balancing these seemingly opposing fields.

Although, it would inevitably come to be that problems arose between them when the differences in their philosophies became a point of contention. The two's previous harmony became misaligned when the assertion that their respective viewpoint was 'correct' over the other. When Kaveh tears up the thesis, he effectively ends the relationship he and Alhaitham built together, as well as the prospect of their found family. Alhaitham, in turn, removed his name from the thesis due to Kaveh's ending of their friendship.

After this, Kaveh graduated and threw himself into work, chasing his ideals, effectively distracting himself - both from the loss of Alhaitham, therefore his loneliness, and from the potential truth that Alhaitham revealed to him about his guilt being the cause of his incessant altruism. Contrarily, Alhaitham's life after this point is devoid of detail, only that he became the Scribe and moved out of his grandmother's house into the property that the Akademiya gifted him and Kaveh for the progress of their abandoned project.

Kaveh describes meeting Alhaitham as one of the most pivotal moments in his life in his hangout, and in A Parade of Providence, he describes their meeting as when his life began to go downhill - indicating, rather, to the consequences of their inevitable falling out. Alhaitham considers Kaveh as one of his priorities in maintaining the way of life he seeks to maintain, and although he is more reticent than Kaveh, in that his inner thoughts are concealed from the player, an instance that stands out to me that their argument personally affected Alhaitham comes from A Parade of Providence. This is when Alhaitham comments on the contradiction of Kaveh's motives, in that he expresses he has bad luck but insists on drawing lots, despite the fact that Faruzan offers to split the points between them. After commenting on this, Kaveh displays genuine frustration with him - to which Alhaitham backs down and switches tact. This is especially prevalent within the EN dub, where Alhaitham stutters before changing topics.

To me this underlines that Alhaitham was just as affected at by their argument as Kaveh was. Especially since this exchange can mirror the very exchange that caused the rift between them - in that Alhaitham points out Kaveh's self-destructive habits and it is perceived as a malicious critique. Alhaitham backs down when seeing that Kaveh is genuinely hurt because he doesn't want to repeat the past - he doesn't want to hurt Kaveh and lose him once more.

This is also encapsulated in the fact that Alhaitham sees Kaveh as his mirror, in that they both have a lack of familial connections. When Alhaitham believes that the presence of another genius can 'perfect' his vision, this isn't just a reference to Kaveh's differing perspectives, this also offers Kaveh as a familial figure to Alhaitham - in that, Alhaitham views Kaveh as his family. Similarly, Kaveh seems to hold an idea that he and Alhaitham are bound by fate, or 'the universe', meaning that he identifies Alhaitham as being essential to him in someway, however, as of now, he struggles with this being a benefit, rather than a negative.

I hope this answers your ask!!? You've unzipped me and all the haikaveh found family brainrot is pouring out <3333

[front-facing-pokemon]

[torgawl]

everytime i think about the new chapter the more and more i like it, it really consolidated yuuta and gojo's characters. the revelation of how the higher-ups were taken down and the set-up for the scene with gojo and yuuta's conversation about what their plan was for gojo's body, in case he lost, might just be the part i find most interesting. all in all, the chapter really highlights the underlying difference between the violence of oppression and the violence of resistence and revolution.

when it comes to yuuta and the archetype of his character he is the pure embodiment of love in the series. if yuuji is able to reach sukuna because he was one with him (love as oneness), yuuta's entire exitence has sorrounded love and, specifically, love as a curse. sukuna's surprise at yuuta's antics come from a place of not understanding love and therefore being unable to conceptualise that yuuta would go so far as betray his own humanity for it. he can't conceive how love can drive a person like yuuta, who's sweet and kind-hearted, to a place as cursed as this - emphasised by the sheer horror and heinosity that is seeing the usage of gojo's dead body with yuuta's innocent expression. but we know that yuuta's journey has always been marked by this concept of love as a curse, starting all the way back in jjk 0 where yuuta's unwillingness to let go of a deceased rika caused her to linger in the world in the form of a cursed spirit. one that yuuta learns to let go of by the end of the story. a lot of what he learns in that moment is about consent and mutuality in love (hence his domain expansion name), and although rika's soul passes and gets freed she is able to manifest her will into her vessel that continues to protect yuuta until this day. yuuta asking gojo for consent to use his body not only consolidates this mutual exchange and respect that he has for those he cares for - which are his main driving force - but is also exactly what separates him from someone like kenjaku, who body hops with total disregard for who they were originally. so there's that layer of irony behind yuuta having rika consume kenjaku to copy his technique and make use of it in a equally disturbing but more compassionate way. which in itself can serve to both question if intent plays a role in absolution and introduce, once again, the idea that humans and curses are not so different, as explored between mahito and yuuji in shibuya with them mirroring each other.

in regards to gojo i think his aknowledgement of his own inertia when it came to the revolution that he was leading was the cherry on top to consolidate who gojo really was as a person. gojo's greatest character flaw was arguably that he simply wasn't radical enough, allowing his students to be targets under the influence of the higher-ups. he had reasons not to kill them, as he explained before in the series, but he still failed to weight the consequences of his own actions and how no one is rewarded by working under a broken system. and i feel like having the youth he guided watching as he killed them is also quite significant as they're followers of this new revolutionary ideology.

i think the shock or impact these violent or twisted acts by the hands of those forced to survive within the status quo (like maki slaughtering her clan, gojo killing the higher-ups, yuuta taking over gojo's body) as a reaction to the violence they're subjeted to by this same system serves some purpose. and i think this is the reason the higher-ups are these anonymous faceless figures, barely-there personalities who have such a big influence in the lives of so many people. even in the real world, and we can think of systems like capitalism and how it exploits people in such a casual way and it relies on that exploration to survive, we sort of take for granted that violence coming from those institutions, having our attention driven away from the minority that's upholding these systems to other things instead. that violence is more "acceptable" because we've been conditioned to it whereas the violence in response to those acts is always met with more scrutiny. and that kind of contextualises why shoko and nanami, for example, much like gojo, aren't really revolutionary with their ideals either - or rather, do not get that priviledge. the difference being gojo was someone these higher-ups were actively afraid of, because if he wanted to, he could have done more. and that's exactly why the instant he was sealed it was the perfect opportunity for them to do whatever they could to prevent him from coming back and place new-drawn targets on the backs of the people gojo was protecting. the gruesome nature of maki slaughtering her clan or the off-putting way people react to yuuta discarding his own humanity and going against what he believes is right to make sure gojo's legacy continues is almost forcing this question of what are people willing to stomach in the name of survival and change.

gojo remembering geto in that crucial moment ("i was falling behind" or "i have to catch up") and just having in mind how they were both so young and naive is so incredibly bittersweet. geto had radical ideals, no matter how misguided. he looked at the world and he had this unshakeable conviction that things couldn't continue to be the way they were. he reached incredibly misplaced conclusions, yes, which came from a place of great pain and alienation, but gojo finally stepping forward to follow that same path, to be more radical, also sort of confirms that things could have been so different if only gojo had the same level of consciousness back then; that they could have found a way better solution together instead of the tragedy that ensued. the parallels between them add an extra layer of wistfulness to their bond, too. their fates have and always will be so intertwined, in such a beautiful and tragic way. and i think geto's unwillingness to force gojo to take a certain path will always be one of the biggest proofs of his love towards him. at the end of the day, even knowing gojo was who he was, geto always seemed to want to protect gojo's path from being stained like his.

at the core, jjk really is a story about revolution and humanity; a story about love and curses and how love is the most twisted curse of all (which has been reinforced over and over again). the fact some are rewarded and some are punished for taking certain paths under the same system is there to convey a very specific message. i really love the incorporation of eastern philosophies within the story and the role horror plays, too. the usage of the genre to deepen the impact of these themes and the way things are introduced with the intention to provoke almost visceral reactions in the readers (much like yuuta's own reaction) also makes the message much more impactful. i think this chapter was great!!!

[notanotherinfjblog]

Productivity

ENTJ: Do you know those moments when you’ve got so much to do that you have no idea where to even start and so you start making a list of things that are too unimportant to waste your time on right now? But at the same time you’re wasting time by not working on the things that actually are important. You’re just making lists of all the tiny aspects of your work that you can throw out just to make yourself feel like you’re doing something.

INFJ: No, I don’t know those moments. I’m less productive, you see. When I’m overwhelmed by all the stuff I have to do, I panic and stare at the wall for three hours.

ENTJ: You’ve been doing that a lot lately, haven’t you?

INFJ: ... yes.

[sysig]

One better (Patreon)

[twpsyn-who]

Talking a little bit about 'boycotting Eurovision' under Keep Reading, feel free to scroll down if is not what you want to see.

The most used argument on the matter of banning Israel from Eurovision is the fact that Russia got banned from Eurovision, which is the worst argument anyone could bring.

Kindly reminder that Russia didn't get banned because of the war with Ukraine. Russia got banned because many countries has threatened to withdraw from the competition. Sadly, that's a big difference.

Yes, the countries has threatened to withdraw because they support Ukraine and see Russia as the party in the wrong. That was their reason. EBU's reason for banning Russian was because those countries threatened to withdraw, not because the war was bad and Russia must be stopped.

This situation isn't the same. Why? Because many countries support Israel in their genocide. Because this time around Palestine is the party in the wrong. Because we're taught to believe that Israel isn't in the wrong here.**

Boycotting Eurovision won't work. There are people out there who don't know the truth and want to watch Eurovision. There are people out there who don't care and will watch Eurovision regardless of the situation. There are people out there who, despite having the facts, still don't see Israel as the bad guy in this situation and will watch Eurovision. Sadly, boycotting won't work unless everyone does it.

The only way Israel will get banned, in my opinion, is by going through the same thing as Russia. If other countries threatened to withdraw- and not any countries, but the ones investing the most in Eurovision, then yes. That will get Israel banned.

Otherwise? The only thing we do is hurt artists that don't deserve it. Artists who use Eurovision as a way to get more exposure and experience. Artists who deserve to be heard.

Don't vote for Israel's entry. Don't stream their song either. Heck, turn off the TV when is their turn to perform.

**This whole situation (the war, not Eurovision) isn't only black and white. Civilians die daily because of this, all of them from both sides. Innocent people who has no fault. Let's not forget that