#Or there’s no natural way to reveal stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madockisser · 2 days ago

Note

is it strange that i want to know what cardan like thinks abt like everything- especially mortal shit. like i want to see what he thinks of different films, music, celebrities, books, or mortal clothing, etc. like idk i just obsess over what he’d think about certain things.

Random faerie lore- specially cardan/ faeries in the mortal world

LOL i hope not because i do that! also thank you for asking this, i was hoping someone should ask something that would allow me to spew my faerie in mortal world knowledge out!

now- honestly cardan and that Alice and wonderland book is what made me fall head over heels for him

i remember seeing it on TikTok years ago, about how Alice and wonderland is a mortal book that mirrors Jude’s life, and that cardan saw Jude in Alice.

and i hadn’t even considered it before, i was young and didn’t gaf abt little details, but look at me now, delving into every little thing abt that series.

since cardan is fae, it’s natural for us to wonder at how he sees the world and Jude.

below are some things i PERSONALLY think he may like or dislike about the mortal world.

i think he’d really enjoy learning the history of human music, i think he would like classical music (seems most likely)

i love to think that he’d get obsessed w how Jude is Latina and want to learn more about that part of human culture. I feel like he’d encourage Jude to do so too, since elfhame is all about HIS culture and whatnot.

he’d probably also like casually reading about human history, cross referencing it with faerie history and stuff, but also having to unlearn any biases both humans and faeries may write in their history books

i don’t think he’d like celebrities much, since he isn’t fond of “fake people” and that’s pretty much every celeb (sorry) BUT i think he would enjoy watching their drama lol, if it were like the early 2000s or even 2010s i feel like he would have fun w that sort of reality show vibe

he’d probably adore human poetry, like the old ones, and he’d probably enjoy older movies too. i can imagine him enjoying Shakespeare (bro would love Romeo and Juliet and compare it to him and Jude) and liking the ballet or marching bands or something random like that (😭)

anyway i just know he LOVES Jude’s mortal underclothes, lowkey he’d probably love the thought that she’s the only one in elfhame wearing them (he’d also probably see them as sorta sexual, only because when i think of faerie underclothes i think of a nightgown and possibly a corset, which doesnt show a ton of skin, whereas a bra and panties are wayyy more revealing)

you didn’t mention food, but there’s a ton of salt in mortal food, but i still think he’d eat it anyway. i guess the way salt works is that it just dulls magics(?) like it won’t physically harm him, but his magic won’t be very strong, like a depressant drug or something (is that a weird comparison 😭) BUT it reminds me of how nevermore is like an enhancer drug, so does that mean nevermore is the opposite of salt? (Literally just spewing nonsense atp)

but he liked dumplings, i think he would like other Asian foods. he’d hate pickles bc of the salt content, and he’d hate chips for the same reason i feel like. he’d probably love a good fruit salad (giggling at this) and trying all the human fruits that they don’t have in elfhame (also desserts)

anyway faeries have to be careful about chemicals, vivienne buys all organic shampoos and body washes, so we can assume she has to be careful with the same. it’s to be noted that her and oakey eat fish sticks and chemically dyed cereal, AND also pain pills? so i guess what they consume doesn’t have to be completely natural?

Add on: in the modern faerie tales, faeries cannot smoke cigarettes or they pretty much die on the spot according to roiben, when Kaye takes a drag her eyes water she she starts choking. ALSO corny in tmft, sprays a faerie in the face w a cleaning spray and bro dies on the spot so…

personally, i think the more checmially foods they eat, the worse they feel, and the lower energy they have. faeries seem to run on the foods they eat like it’s fuel, soo eating human food is probably not too great for them. vivi seems to be doing fine tho(perhaps bc she’s half human AND she grew up eating that stuff? Same w Kaye). Makes sense why oaks a vegan as well in tsh.

anyway imagining cardan in the mortal world is funny but weird, like he totally doesn’t fit lol

what i can remember from htkoelths, he seemed used to the strangeness. like he expected it.

since elfhame seems so small compared to the mortal world, i assume that some faeries are pretty casually human like, in terms of clothing and even behaviors (based on the bomb, kaye, etc)

also a lot of them (the ones not from elfhame or living on the isles) live nearby humans, so they’re pretty used to them I’d say.

It makes sense for the fae to be used to humans, since they’re everywhere. they’re also in elfhame, whether they’re glamoured or no.

anyway, cardan had access to the mortal world, so who knows how often he really went and dropped off slaves, or just went to visit.

balekin probably took him once and was like “damn little bro, look at all this hot garbage! Humans suck so I’m gonna use them to belittle you! haha”

anyway, i refuse to put anything else in my drafts bc im scared my drafts are slowly disappearing (BTW someone sent me a Locke and cardan ask the other day, and IT GOT DELETED after i wrote half of it, so if it was you that sent it, resend it perchance bc i forgot what the question even was)

on that note, thank you for the ask! this was messy and randomly thrown together lol but i liked writing it 🫶 feel free to add on as always!!

#tfota #the cruel prince #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #tcp #the modern faerie tales #holly black #jurdan #vivienne tfota #vivi duarte

36 notes · View notes

sweetestberryofthebunch · 18 hours ago

Text

You’re All That I See (SalemEra!Agathario)

Rio was here, truly here with her. But … didn’t that mean..? „Who is it?“, she asked, more curious than concerned. „Whose demise summoned you here? Did my mother trip on her way out?“ Rio snorted, dark eyes twinkling for a few seconds, before getting serious again. „Don’t joke about that.“

Content/Warnings: Bad moms (heh), child neglect, abuse from Evanora, hurt/comfort, angst but not between agathario just between Agatha and her mother, is „mothers“ content warning enough?, it’s about bad parenting y’all

Listen, you have to get through a lot of exposition and pain to get to the good stuff, but it's worth it I promise!! It’s just a little heavy. I should write something more fun after this …

It wasn’t that Agatha was powerless. In fact, quite the opposite. She was a burning battery of energy when she got to perform analog rituals that she had carefully studied beforehand. In full moon chants when the whole coven assembled, Agatha’s voice rang through the night the loudest, her eyes shined the brightest, she danced the longest, spun around the nightly meadow until the sun came up. She had learned to hide her thoughts from mind readers at merely twelve years old, when most witches could only dream of the potential hidden away inside them yet. All things considered, she should have been an early bloomer, the pride of her coven, destined to lead.

But twelve turned to fourteen turned to seventeen, and still, no gift past the potential she’d shown at a young age had materialised. Girls around her grew up and developed a talent for healing, elemental powers, shields and foresight, and all the young witch herself could do was stand by and wait. One day, her gifts had to manifest. She just had to keep trying.

And Agatha had tried. She genuinely had tried. Everything that her mother threw at her, all her attempts of wringing her magical talent out of her. Even the cruel ones, Agatha had always obliged without hesitation, with almost self destructive devotion. Because all Evanora wanted was for her daughter to develop her gift, so her sisters would stop wondering, stop looking at them with pity in their eyes. And all Agatha wanted was to finally dip into her potential, to finally unleash the fire she knew was burning underneath her skin. So, whatever Evanora had prepared for her, Agatha tried.

The incantations Evanora had made her memorise and perform after midnight in the backyard, when no one was awake to see her anymore, the door locked and sealed with a spell. She‘d be allowed back inside when she‘d successfully cast a shield. If her talent wasn’t revealing itself naturally, some extra motivation would have to do the trick. Under the fire moon above her, naked feet in the cold dirt until she couldn’t feel a single one of her toes anymore, Agatha drew circle after circle in the ground, the spells and incantations getting more complicated, more pleading with each failure. Frantically murmuring, she had stumbled over her own feet, hot tears burning in her eyes as she slammed her fists into the dirt in frustration.

Please, one shield! Just one.

When Evanora had unlocked the door in the morning to let her in again, all she saw was Agatha, covered in dirt from head to toe, curled up against the locked door, shivering like a leaf from the icy wind outside. Circles were drawn all over their yard, not a single spot of grass left untouched, but not a single successful shield cast. Agatha’s feet and lips were blue from the cold, but all Evanora had done was purse her lips in disappointment. Not a protection witch.

Earlier that summer, Evanora had brought home a stiny strawberry plant in a terracotta pot, not a single flower in bloom yet. She‘d sat Agatha down in front of the delicate thing, barely more than a sapling yet. „Dinner‘s served“, she‘d snarled, and when Agatha had just stared at her in confusion, Evanora had given the weak plant a little flick with her finger. „Figure it out. This is all you’re having until it bears fruit.“

Days passed without any luck, no matter how many books on green magic the girl studied, how much fresh soil or clear spring water she gathered from the forest, how much Latin she whispered into the weak little flower. The growing process would not speed up, let alone bear a fruit. On the fourth day, she gave up, broke down crying in front of her mother, cowered at her feet begging her to let it go, hunger making her delirious like a kick in the stomach. Evanora had run her hand through her silver hair, dismissing Agatha with a wave. „Dispose the plant," she'd told her. Agatha had to eat in her room that night, because her mother refused to look at her. Not a green witch.

Agatha didn’t like to even think of her attempts at brewing a potion, just the memory of the bitter taste on her tongue, of the hours spent throwing it back up, made her gag. She had almost poisoned herself for good, and they’d had to ask their coven healer to brew an antidote in the middle of the night. Evanora‘s face had burned bright red with shame. Not a gift for potions either.

They were running out of options.

When Evanora had dropped the deck of cards in front of Agatha one late November afternoon, the girl almost wanted to refuse. What was the use of any of it at this point? Judging by the way her mother’s jaw was tensed up, they both already knew the end of it.

And indeed, in cruel irony, trying to read her mothers cards went exactly how she thought it would.

Agatha knew the rules and motives of the French Lenormand, Classic Tarot and had even read about Crystal balls before. Lucid Dreaming, Astral projection, anything that could help wake the gift of foresight.

And still, every time she tried to use that knowledge to interpret a card, every time she tried to focus, to really focus … It was like her head was filled with fog, like nothing made sense. She had no connection to any of the paper cards in front of her. And that only meant one thing. Not a divination witch.

Evanora had grabbed her by the ear, like she used to do when Agatha was younger, and forced her up the ladder to her chamber.

„I don’t want to see you“, she seethed, pushing the young girl onto the wooden planks of the small attic. The lock clicked shut behind her. Agatha could hear her mother grab her coat and stomp out of the house, front door slamming shut behind her, leaving the young witch alone in her dark room, not a single candle lit.

A shiver ran down Agatha’s spine. Her mother had left without lighting the fireplace. And the big furs they used to keep warm during the cold months were all folded neatly into a box next to the front door. It was late November, the ground was frost cold, and right now, Agatha was freezing in her little attic. She took a deep breath, a cloud forming in front of her face, and bit back her tears. Her mother would be back. She was out now so she wouldn’t rage right in front of Agatha, or maybe she had run down to the market and would be back in just a few minutes, with more candles or a loaf of fresh bread.

Willing her hands to stop shaking, Agatha sat up. At least she had the linen sheet on the little bunk she slept on, that should keep her warm for a little.

„I‘ve missed you.“

The voice was familiar, a single ray of sunshine piercing through a window covered with dust. Agatha‘s head shot up, she spun around on the spot she sat on the floor, brown waves flying.

And there she was, sitting on the edge of Agatha‘s bed like she‘d waited there for her.

As always, Rio looked completely unaffected by the conditions around her. Never cold, or hot, always just present. Her dress, green and gold and of way finer and softer material than anything Agatha could ever afford, didn‘t exactly fit the season, but she did have a heavy, black coat around her shoulders today, adorned with some white fur on the inside, fox, or even wolf maybe. Her dark hair was pinned back but fell open down her back. Her dark eyes were full of worry as they pierced into Agatha’s.

The young witch scrambled to her feet, eyes never leaving Rio‘s as she attempted to soften out the wrinkles of her skirts, even as her hands were stale and shaking from the crisp air.

„How long have you been here?“, she asked, and felt a tinge of embarrassment at the thought of Rio witnessing her failed attempts at divination. At Rio witnessing the rough treatment from her mother.

„Long enough“, Rio simply stated, „Not long enough.“

She frowned, getting up from the bed, her bare feet carrying her over to Agatha in just a few steps. The room was small.

„You know what you are“, she said, her expression unreadable, brows knit together. She was confused, but not accusatory. At least that was what it seemed like.

Agatha swallowed, eyes lowering, suddenly very interested in the uneven wood planks they were standing on. She did.

Their shared secret. The night they‘d met.

Tiffany, a young protection witch from another coven. Her bright yellow blast of energy, hitting Agatha right into the chest. The sudden burst of power instead of the pain that should have followed. Tiffany‘s cold, dead body at her feet, empty eyes staring at Agatha in horror. The purple glow of her own hands, magic racing through her veins. Rio had appeared out of nowhere, dodging every blast Agatha threw at her with ease. Tiffany‘s body disappearing in the dirt, moss growing over it, concealing her from plain sight. Rio‘s knowing nod. The first time Agatha had felt the warm embrace of someone else’s comfort. Of someone else’s protection.

She was a siphon, a power so rare - and frowned upon - most covens believed it a myth. Or deemed it black magic, rotten to the core. An evil that had to be destroyed. Agatha had seen gruesome illustrations in a book, executions even worse than what the witch trials of Salem had bestowed on them these past years.

„My mother can never know“, she whispered, lower lip trembling, „It’s better to let her think have no gift … I fear what she may do.“

At that, Rio‘s face softened. She took another step towards her, the floor creaking beneath her feet. Proof that she was truly here. Reaching for her was almost like second nature at this point, Agatha’s hands finding Rio‘s elbows, carefully clasping around them before pulling her closer, into herself. The green witch let her, willingly sinking into the slightly shorter witches embrace. Her arms slung around her shivering body, and Rio felt her chest tighten at how cold Agatha was in her arms.

Agatha‘s voice was low, muffled by the dark waves she nuzzled her face into, leaning against Rio‘s steady form. „I‘ve missed you too.“ The green witches fingers threaded through her brown her, gently caressing her back as she held her.

Agatha only pulled away after a few moments of silently taking her in, inhaling the scent of fresh soil and forest that clung to Rio. Delicate fingers ran through Rio‘s hair now, brushing some loose strands behind her ear. Agatha was smiling now. Rio was truly here, with her. But … didn’t that mean ..?

Agatha‘s brows rose.

„Who is it?“, she asked, more curious than concerned. „Whose demise summoned you here? Did my mother trip on her way out?“

Rio snorted, dark eyes twinkling for a few seconds before getting serious again. „Don’t joke about that”, she chastised.

Agatha dropped her hand and Rio quickly reached after it. She took her hand by her wrist, and placed her palm back on her cheek, leaning into the touch just the slightest bit.

Agatha saw her shoulders relax, and she ran her thumb over the plump skin of Rio’s cheek, rosy and soft beneath her harsh fingertip, hardened from hours of working around the house and for the coven every day.

“One day I’ll come for her”, Rio continued, eyes staring off into the distance for a moment, her expression unreadable. Agatha wasn’t sure if it was a joke or a promise.

„Not today, though. Today”, her fingers danced over Agatha’s wrist for a moment, drawing circles up her skin all the way to the back of her hand, until she rested her own over it, her palm cool against Agatha’s warm fingers. “I just came for you.”

“Did I die of boredom?” Agatha retorts, leaning in a little closer, the tips of their noses almost touching, “I wouldn’t be surprised if I did! I spend a lot of time up here alone.”

Rio lets out another amused snort, but shakes her head. “I’m not here to take your soul, idiot” she said, but there was an intensity in her words, like despite the teasing tone in Agatha’s voice. Like the mere thought distressed her. Even if she tried not to show it. Agatha felt her chest ache at the realisation. Rio cared.

“I’m here to rescue you.“, the taller girl continued, pulling Agatha out of her thoughts, „Your mother left the house a while ago, she’s at your potion witches house. The one with the big mole on her chin. It’ll be hours until she returns.”

There was some excitement sparking up in Agatha’s chest at the thought of sneaking around with Rio. But, she couldn’t help but glance back at the door her mother had made sure to lock. And the cold fireplace downstairs…

Her eyes flitted back over to Rio, who had climbed onto the little wooden table underneath the only round little window in Agatha’s room, reaching up to open it. The girl was halfway done pushing the wooden panels keeping the light and the frost out aside when Agatha opened her mouth. She didn’t know what to say, so she closed it again, took a deep breath, and tried again.

“Rio…”

She turned around, warm eyes filled with such gentleness. Agatha swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I’m not …“ she took a deep breath, bright eyes burning into Rio’s, „Promise I did not freeze to death.“

The green witch stopped in her tracks. Her mouth fell open, eyes wide with bewilderment.

Hopping off the table, she rushed back over to Agatha, who stood in the middle of the room, looking so small and lost all of a sudden, Rio moved with purpose, almost panicked. Her hands were cold, but not because of the frost outside, they just always were. Agatha had gotten used to the feeling. There was something comforting about it as Rio clasped her palms around the young witches face, making her look her in the eyes. Cool palms against her own pale skin.

Rio’s stare was firm, determined, and still, there was a softness in them she only reserved for the girl in front of her. Her softness was a secret treasure only Agatha knew how to unlock.

“No.” She replied simply, thumbs swiping over the few freckles sprinkled on her sweet witch‘s cheeks.

She let go of Agatha for a moment, but only to undo the clasp holding the black cloak that was hanging around her shoulders, and wrap the heavy, black fabric around Agatha instead. Immediately, Agatha felt her own body relax. She hadn’t realised just how far the cold had crept into her bones until the soft fur lining of Rio‘s cloak engulfed her, chased the coolness out and surrounded her with warmth and softness.

“You are not … dead, Agatha. Not yet at least. And trust me, I won’t let you.”

She let out a little sigh of relief, eyes fluttering shut as she wrapped the fabric tighter around herself.

Rio’s lips curled into a little smirk as she watched, an expression Agath mirrored when she glanced back up at her.

Rio slightly tilted Agatha’s head up by her chin until they were so close to each other's faces, Agatha could feel Rio’s breath against her face. It smelled of mint and oranges, classic Yuletide treats. They held eye contact for a few breaths, and Agatha could see the promise in the deep, warm depths of Rio’s gaze. Her own mother may leave her for dead, but Rio won’t. It was so twisted, a paradox in itself, that Death herself was the one keeping her warm when her own mother left her all by herself. It should be wrong, but every bone in Agatha just wanted to curl into Rio, to be close to her forever. Maybe she was the only one who could be.

“I know a lovely spot not far from here”, Rio whispered all of a sudden, and Agatha had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“Are you taking me out to the creek in the middle of winter?”

She wanted to add another comment, but at that moment, her stomach growled. Her eyes widened in surprise, and judging by the way Rio’s brows raised in concern, she had heard it too.

“Yes, I am taking you to the creek again.” The green witch nodded insistently, “The deer come out to drink when the sun goes down, we can go and watch them at dusk. And we can stop by the market first to get you something to eat first too. I think I saw grilled pork chops on the way here.”

One of Rio’s fingers teasingly poked Agatha between the ribs, before the hand flattened against her form, sliding over her back until her arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling the young witch against herself tightly. A surprised little yelp escaped the witch‘s mouth, and it was like somehow, she felt warm on the inside too.

“I promise you won’t be cold or hungry.“, Rio’s stare was intense, but the words leaving her rosy lips were barely more than a whisper, „You never have to be cold or hungry while you’re with me.”

Her other hand wandered from Agatha’s cheek backwards, fingers tangling into her dark hair, holding her close. All that was between them was the fine velvet of Rio’s dress, and the washed out linen of Agatha’s garments, pressed flush against each other. Agatha had to take a deep breath, eyes fluttering from dark eyes down to full lips.

Even though she wanted nothing more than to just close the distance between the, she let it all happen at the pace Rio set. A rare moment of letting her take some control, her own arms wrapped around the other girl's neck, waiting for her next move. They were in a close embrace Now, Agatha’s long waves tickling Rio’s neck, Agatha herself being able to count every little spec of green in the deepwood brown of Rio’s eyes. She could feel her cheeks flush despite the crisp air, and if she was shivering still, it wasn’t because of the cold anymore.

“I’d like that very much”, she whispered, even though no one else was around to hear them. Still, the words felt intimate, too precious to risk spilling out too loudly, too exposed. They were only meant for Rio’s ears. She leaned in a little bit closer, the tips of their noses almost touching, her breath blowing against the lips right in front of her. She may let Rio set the pace, but that didn‘t mean she couldn’t spur her on a little.

“Hmmh”, Rio hummed, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation as Agatha came closer. She waited for Agatha to close the final gap between them, she loved to do so. Sometimes, they turned it into a game of who would give in first, and usually, it ended with Rio giving in, whining in frustration at how endlessly patient Agatha could be if it meant winning.

But today, there was no challenge and no game. There were just the two of them, the unspoken promises between them, and the ones they’d said out loud.

And the moment Rio’s eyes closed, she felt Agatha’s soft lips press against hers.

The taller girl‘s hands found the fabric of the cloak, wrapping it tighter around Agatha’s shoulders while simultaneously pulling her closer by it. The young witch‘s lips were dry, but she tasted of wheat and dried apple rings, of goat's milk and a pinch of the sugar Agatha loved to steal little pinches from, even though her mother didn‘t allow it. She tasted like home, so familiar. She tasted of life and hope and somewhere underneath it all, of power. She tasted like everything Rio wanted, and her fingers dug into her hair a little tighter as she chased after her lips.

Agatha sighed against her, before pulling away just slightly. Her pupils were dark and round, and she looked at Rio like she’d hung the stars in the sky.

“Maybe once the deer are gone…” The hand in Rio‘s hair closed into a fist, tugging at the black strands just a little bit. Still, it was enough to elicit a little gasp from her lover’s lips, Agatha smirking as she got closer to Rio‘s exposed neck. Never touching it, but close enough for Rio to feel her presence.

A few single hair pins fell to the ground, not that either of them noticed.

Agatha was too busy watching the way Rio��s lips parted slightly at the tug. And Rio, well, she felt that spark inside her, the one only Agatha had the power to light. And when she did, they burned like dry leaves, fast, intense, all consuming.

The green witch rolled her eyes, almost annoyed at how easily Agatha played her cards. But still, Rio pushed her chin forward despite being pulled back by her hair, forcefully meeting Agatha’s lips in another kiss. This time, it was more urgent, and had none of the innocence the prior kiss had, but instead was laced with desire, with a promise for more as the tips of their tongues met halfway.

“Yes”, she husked, and glanced up at Agatha through hooded lids. “If you want to, we’ll have time for that too.”

She reached behind Agatha, pulling the hood over her head. The view of Agatha wearing her own cloak certainly made Rio feel things they should explore later. And the way the young witch‘s eyes twinkled at her with a mix of satisfaction and mischief was something she couldn’t think about too much right now, if they wanted to reach their destination before anything else happened.

„Let’s go.” she hummed, adjusting the black fabric around Agatha’s shoulders before pressing one last little kiss to the tip of her nose, because she couldn’t resist it. “before the market closes.”

#berry‘s writings #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha x rio #agathario #rio vidal #agatha harkness x rio vidal #wandavision #SHUT UP IM COPING OVER HERE #Next one is gonna be nasty smut or something I promise

21 notes · View notes

polyamoryprincess · 1 year ago

Text

Idk shit about Oppenheimer and there’s apparently some back and forth between people who think Oppenheimer is some flavor of propaganda/erasure and people who think they’re being unnecessarily obtuse or missing the point, and like idk one of the sides is using this as an opportunity to point out all the damage that the US still brushes over in relation to the atomic bomb and the the lead up to it and the other is convinced that biopics are actually based in reality and have any merit lmao

#I just think it’s funny those are the two ends of the spectrum #I saw someone try to explain the story criticisms were stupid because it’s based on real life #And real people don’t do what stories need them to #And like yeah sure but… it’s still a movie… most of what you saw was probably about 20% based in reality #Most people in bios aren’t even like how they’re described #Sometimes you have to literally choose a person and attribute other important events to them #So you don’t have to introduce tons of people to the audience #Or there’s no natural way to reveal stuff #Biopics always have some morally questionable shit going on and I just wish we could treat history like history #And entertainment like entertainment #Maybe that’s naive but biopics seem to always be more damaging than informative

2 notes · View notes

cutetanuki-chan · 7 months ago

Note

do you have any alecto/anastasia hcs?

I think my biggest hc is that Anastasia wanted to be present at laying Alecto down in the tomb, but something went not as planned, cause she helped design it and it's her house, where is she

and not quite a hc but I want Alecto snatch some of Anastasia's bones before leaving the tomb

but tbh the moment I got the ask my mind completely blanked out on everything I was thinking about them, I'll add more to this post if I remember some of it

but thank you for asking!

#but it's complicated cause I don't have a lot of understanding of how canaan house and the ninth was back then #and what timeline of events looked like so i keep rotating in my head dif scenarios with dif ideas #Anasatasia could've had her own way of calming Alecto during tantrums but Alecto still could accidentally hurt her in out rage #at least Anastasia is great at mending broken bones #them hanging out in the pool is everyone's hc #but once had an idea that telling the true started with them both submerged and Alecto just unpromptedly started bluntly blurting out stuff #but in the gist of 'I'm eating pencils' and then it escalated with time #someone said before that Alecto being sorry about Samael in her nature might mean that she somehow was responsible even if not in direct wa #it could be eating her out after Samael's death and seeing how heartbroken Anastasia was #so later on the ninth she drags Anastasia into the water and reveals something that makes Anastasia realize John fucked her over #Anastasia's breaking down and after on it could lead to the vow being made #cause I'm still thinking about that one line that John says 'Anastasia knew 'at the time' that killing Samael was a necessity'#like she could've figure out something #keep rotating in my mind conversation that goes like #Alecto: are you angry with me #Anastasia: yes. but I'm not being fair

62 notes · View notes

aimasup · 8 months ago

Text

sure i COULD ramble about how ai is one of the multiple things that check all the marks of humanity's seven deadly sins but would that be extreme

^^^ possibly insufficiently educated

#the pride the hubris of believing you can do better than innovation and nature by playing god and not in the fun way #the lust it's being used for in so many awful cases #the sloth the way its encouraging everyone to check original sources less before believing anything. Also to not take time to develop skill #the greed its being used for profit without consideration for ethics or fair labour #gluttony. we always have to be faster. shinier. better. no matter if it ends up being less convenient or wonky #the wrath it sows in between people creating more differences to be frustrated over. more hatred #the envy how it takes and takes. always trying to be as clever as the best humans. as beautiful as a real forest or sunset.#do you think the ai wants itself #if this were a scifi movie would we be the bad guys #but this is not a movie and the ai cannot love us. so we cannot love it. and there's that #my post #personal stuff #thinking aloud just silly yapping n jazz 没啥事做就这样咯~#(￣▽￣)~*#when i was in primary school our textbooks for chinese had short stories and articles to learn about #there was a fictional scifi oneshot about a family in the future going to the zoo #the scifi zoo trip was going great until the zoo's systems went offline for a moment #and it was revealed that all the animals roaming in their enclosures were holograms #the real ones went extinct ages ago #when the computers came back online the holograms returned and there they were #honestly at first I thought it was a bit exaggerating #but I still think about it once in a while

100 notes · View notes

puhpandas · 7 months ago

Text

I keep thinking about how on earth they would canonize ggy bc like. at this point if they have to sacrifice Gregory screentime of just him to make something we already know actually canon, I would rather just take the screentime, but on the other hand they have to canonize it if they want to do anything at all with that plotline, and that makes me wonder if theyll stick with it as canon in the games at all or just leave it as background knowledge if u read the book 😭

#like i love ggy just as much as the nezt person and go crazy at how canon it is but not yet #but also i like gregory a lot more and ggy isnt the only reason hes my favorite #gregory was my favorite for a whole year before ggy even came out #i want him as a person to be developed more than his ggy plot when we already know its real #but gregory himself desperately needs more time focused on his character to tell us more about him #maybe give some context to some of his decisions #best case scenario honestly is Gregory has a protagonist plotline where it showcases his character and relationships with others #as the game progresses naturally with dialogue and stuff (freddy and vanessa being his guides or something)#with the focus being saving cassie #but as the game reaches its climax gregory realises for some reason or another that apparently he was ggy and did all those things #and was the mimics fave #but its established he had amneisa before security breach so he didnt remember and still doesnt #he just knows he did it and has to deal #so it doesnt completely take over everything else about his character #and then whatever happens at the end of that game has cassie saved and joining 3 star #who GOT DEVELOPMENT in this hypothetical #like idk i want ggy to be canon but i dont want it to overtake gregory #yknow what i mean #it should be background to him not the other way around #vanessa and cassie already have that big main possession plotline #pandas.txt #tbh if they replace gregorys backstory with something equally interesting I'll be ok with no game ggy #we already have a whole book to mess around with i wouldn't mind it being a little au even tho i know it isnt #its VERY canon and ill 100% be alright and happy w game ggy #but im nervous for how they would establish it in a game if at all #with how much gregory needs screentime just as a character and if he'd need to wait even longer after a ggy reveal #thoughts #gregory

16 notes · View notes

kuromi-hoemie · 8 days ago

Text

hhhh talking about my writing was fun but 30 tags is not enough.. yes i have 3 major influences but i have minor ones too.. it is a lovechild of my favorite things.. writing is so fun and i have no self control or a concept of pacing myself i will sit there for 16 hours and get hit with every status effect but by god does it all just flow out of me. I've always been a music person yes but i also used to write a lot into early adulthood until The Incident™

but i am ready 2 jump back into it. i think comics are a great middle ground between the two mediums so i don't get As into writing bc i kind of started going crazy last time 🫡 i can take a more structured approach to it that forces me to pace myself and think about it differently. i love art.... i love making things i love knowing how to do things i love knowing how to play things i love having so many creative outlets, even if i don't do a lot of them regularly lol. it is enriching 😳 and nice to know that it's always there to come back to when u want.

#if u want the tea my imagination at the time was like i could space out and straight up just be another person POV doing every little #thing as if i were them for hours and the experience would come together without having to even think about it.#different times/places/contexts/conversations etc. forced 2 to to my mom's lil cult meetings for 2 hours twice a week #i would opt to do these imagination exercises instead to rly put myself in a character's perspective. every step‚ stumble‚#riding in a carriage together for the entirety from point A to B etc. WELL i was working on a horror anthology somewhere 18/19 #(that had a small local following 🫶🏾) and it its concept was like the Twilight zone but a lot darker. it was called interdimensional #and the main recurring character never actually shows up in the story. they r an omnipresent god of death who exists everywhere but #exists outside of our realm‚ and it picks random people to reveal itself to as a symbol. it can be apparent or just in passing that #the entry's MC sees it in‚ it will appear on something somewhere and once it's brought up it's a cue to the reader that this person #has just been sent to an alternate reality that leads towards their inevitable death. for the character nothing ever changes immediately #but the different starts to creep its way in‚ as does death's approach at its crescendo but the path's i took to get there were 😨#and after enough entries i started to see the symbol irl and hallucinate some other stuff from my stories and it really scared me #and made me stop 🫡 but i think in retrospect i just went too hard on the imagination exercises and wished i tried cultivating it instead #give myself time to settle and get in control.. but alas‚ she has not written seriously since. to this day it still flows out of me if #i just sit down to do it‚ but i don't think I'm at risk of something like that happening again anymore :3 so yeah ♡⁠ i am learning how to #draw and trying not 2 force it bc i want it to b fun as a little journey for me and i look forward to the day i can come back to actively #writing again too 🫶🏾 i miss it but i also want to b able to draw ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა #learn the hard thing first then do the stuff that comes naturally.... i also want to get back into music sometime but clearly i got a lot of #other stuff to work on 💀 i burnt myself out on it learning too many things and not having enough fun with it anymore‚#but i have a better healthier with art these days and i know it'll be great to come back to when I'm ready 😌💕#i have been considering getting an acoustic or bass guitar tho 🧐 the beauty of physical instruments.. they're just there ready 2 go..#I've been doing mostly digital the past few years‚ when i was making music. it was also rly hard to when i was w my ex ૮ – ﻌ–ა #that's a whole other rant lol. but ugh digital is like u gotta set it up u gotta make space and then u gotta be in one spot the whole time #i just wanna lay in bed and vibe or something yfm.. walk around maybe idk. do something less structured.#maybe.. hm. hmmm 🧐#I'm going to guitar center lol c ya ✌🏾 getting a bass and amp and maybe a guitar too depending on the price

4 notes · View notes

kelpiemomma · 2 years ago

Text

i am spinning this video in my head and vibrating with spartan Ingo thoughts

youtube

It was never explicitly stated to the twins, but Ingo got chosen to be Noble 6 BECAUSE of Emmet. Because he could follow Emmet's plans and commands without arguing unless it was necessary. Because he and Emmet spent so much time training together, to improve their skills and sparring with others to one up each other, that he was constant learning and improving. Because if he thought Emmet would survive, Ingo would do ANYTHING to ensure it.

Spartan Emmet, on the other hand, is more selfish. He has to be the one in charge. He needs to be learning, improving, always because he needs to keep Ingo safe. Saving civilians is not his priority- Ingo is. If it came down to it and Spartan Emmet was required to choose between something and Ingo, he would choose Ingo every time. The world could burn and as long as he had Ingo by his side he could get through it. Being selfish isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it's definitely not good when you want a team player.

So they started with Ingo, told him the solo mission he'd be going on needed to be done without Emmet. Said he needed to start working with other people, and it was a little escort mission so it was fine. He didn't like it, and was anxious to not have Emmet at his back, but it went fine and he came back safe.

And when he was on Reach, looking out through a hole in the wall of a broken tower in a destroyed city, he realized this. He realized following Emmet through training, following orders, had led him to here. To being among a team of strangers bonded by a world ending. And he didn't hate it. Not at all. Because Emmet would sacrifice the world for Ingo, but Ingo had always kept silent about how he'd sacrifice himself for his brother. And he knew, something in his gut told him, that sacrificing himself was going to be the only way to keep Emmet alive.

#Halo submas #submas #subway boss Ingo #subway boss Emmet #spartan Ingo #Spartan Emmet #I think the video is melodramatically narrated but it also highlights part of why I love reach #You're not being smacked over the head with characters #They are just part of the background. Part of the immersion.#Reach falls so quickly you'd never have time to get to know them #you find out little things about them but not their histories or backstories #you don't NEED to know that stuff #Relating it back to the halo au- Emmet would have wanted to know #He'd have wanted to know skills and histories and missions completed and failed #He would want to know the best way of getting back to Ingo #Ingo wouldn't pry bc he wouldn't want to reveal his own history anyway #maybe if he'd known them longer it would've happened naturally but it didn't #Anyway here I am reach babbling #and I will say that yes- part of Ingo DID die on reach that last day #But not all of Ingo! Not Ingo himself!#Youtube

5 notes · View notes

t-u-i-t-c · 3 months ago

Text

#actually really annoyed about this pacing shift like i hate when that happens it makes me feel so frustrated and confused for no reason #they're just doing way too much like they're playing a game of catch-up bc they devoted too much time to other things and now need to make #sure the stuff they want to do later makes sense but it makes the execution feel clunky and the characters feel a bit out of it bc there's #no natural ease into their revelations and resolves like it's just too much #that's not to say i don't like geats i still am enjoying it a lot but i think the story would be easier to digest if the reveals weren't #back to back but also if there weren't like 20 hoops to get one answer to a simple question #pacing it like a kamen rider movie which is a whole other thing...#anyways i really like geats and am enjoying it a lot i'm just frustrated with this bit a little #kr geats lb #kr lb #umbrella.thoughts #umbrella.posts

0 notes

areyouwho-ithinkyouare · 5 months ago

Text

got so many ideas for a new d&d campaign like i really fucking love this one but the bit i CANNOT get is. the first fucking adventure. perhaps the most important of all and nothing! is! inspiring me!

#it’s a ragnorra campaign u guys. u guys it’s ragnorra.#but i’m reskinning a lot of stuff. so it’s gonna be like… psychedelic dreamland midsommar lsd flowers annihilation shimmer. kinda vibe.#body horror and agressive unstoppable mutation. but in a pretty and colourful way.#healing to the point of killing. a new age apocalypse. etc etc etc.#there’s gonna be a cult who worship ragnorra and they’re guiding her comet towards the world by doing just. SO many resurrections.#to amp up that positive life energy.#like at first they’re gonna present themselves as just. an order of healers. going around healing and resurrecting those in need.#but as the comet gets closer and closer and things get weirder and weirder�� their true nature will get revealed #and they’ve got like. a secret offshoot group going around stealing all the diamonds they need for these resurrections.#which is how the party will first (unknowingly) come into conflict with them. bcus they’ll be asked to find out where the diamonds are going #and they’ll have to deal with that offshoot group of catburglars and thieves. which will eventually tip them off about the cult.#i’ve got so many ideas so many thoughts so many possible routes to take with this.#but i can’t!! figure out!!! how i want to start it!!!!!!!

0 notes

amaranthinespirit · 1 month ago

Text

new neighbor!simon riley whom you bring cookies to as a way to welcome him to the neighborhood, so naturally he has to pay you back, right?

you'd seen the moving trucks pull up at the little house next door, peering through the frilly curtains that frame your window, pulling back the blinds to peek through the cracks at who this new neighbor is.

you couldn't get much of a glimpse, though you saw the tall, looming stature dressed in a dark void for clothes, and a mask over his head that made your tummy writhe with unease.

nonetheless, you turned to your kitchen and decided you'd make a housewarming gift. it was the nice thing to do after all!

so with a warmed plate of fresh cookies in your palms, you tediously stepped down the stones from your little abode to the sidewalk between yours and his new house. your shoes padded along the concrete before approaching his door.

a tender fist knocked knuckles against the firm door, an innocent glint in your eyes as you patiently waited for the man to open the door.

simon wasn't expecting anyone, hell, he hadn't even told anyone he had moved. his ears perked at the shallow knock, his socked feet padding against the wooden floors before peeking in the little peephole.

last thing he was expecting was a sweet little thing such as yourself to be waiting for a brute like him to answer the door, but he didn't want to keep you waiting much longer now.

with a creak, the door opened and revealed his daunting figure that towered over you. you felt his shadow cover you as you look up to him, mumbling a few measly words welcoming him to the neighborhood.

his face, more like his eyes, were stoic, but you noticed a slight crinkle in his skin, the mask shifting ever so slightly as a gruff voice responded to your words, "thanks, luv', why don'ya c'mon in?" he offered.

because the least he could do is invite you in for a cuppa, sit down and chat while you shared the plate of cookies over the island in the kitchen, right?

it felt sinful, leading a little doll like doe into his house, the door slowly creaking shut with a slight push. nonetheless, a large hand splayed across your lower back to guide you to the empty kitchen, boxes scattered along the floors.

your hands gripped the edge of the island tightly, your knuckles turning white as you bite back soft mewls. simon was kneeled, a hand pressing down on your back to keep your stomach against the counter, face buried in your sopping cunt. its compensation, lovie!

he groaned, slick drooling down his chin, nose buried in your pussy. the warm of his breath caused goosebumps to rise along your skin, his other hand full of fatty flesh from your plush rear, pulling the muscle aside to allow himself access to your sweet, drooling pussy.

you were so sweet, just like heaven, how could he refuse! besides, you were dripping for him anyways.

his lips latched to your folds, slurping up your slick with lewd squelches, teeth grazing your clit with soft nips as his tongue pushed past your walls.

your spongy walls contorted around the pink muscle as he coated your pussy in saliva, mumbling almost incoherently, "fuck, s'sweet, luvie. tastier than the damn sweets."

your knees trembled, buckling because of the pleasure as your walls pulsed around his tongue. a convulsing pattern as the heat in your tummy built with rising anticipation of ecstasy. your hips squirmed under him, but his strong hands manhandled you to how he wanted.

come on, lovie, you'll learn he needs quite a few sweets after having been deprived of them so long.

he'll take care of you, wipe you clean with a damp washcloth and throw a warm, definitely too big shirt fresh from the dryer over your body and convince you to stay the night.

give him your key to get your stuff, lovie! but don't question how he managed to get a copy so quick.

6K notes · View notes

stromblessed · 1 year ago

Text

Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

#blue eye samurai #mizu #akemi #kinuyo #bes #women are birds okay they are BIRDS #the let me die line is so SCARY AND SAD like a part of Mizu wants death but she cant? she doesnt know how?? excuse you show???#when all these other delicate birds are dying all around her #akemis character gets more and more gutwrenching upon subsequent rewatches because whenever she says her life is in danger #NO ONE BELIEVES HER - certainly not other women #because shes rich and pampered and that means shes safe and is worrying about nothing right? right?????#and it turns out that all of akemis instincts were right and she was in danger the ENTIRE TIME #also I need to make a post just for kinuyo because I am sad

11K notes · View notes

just-miru · 1 year ago

Text

another is so silly i really love it

#the only thing i hate about it is how small the mouths are drawn adfga #they really did make up for it in the last two eps tho #like.#besides the suspense and cliffhanger-ish nature of it all #(like come on already!! i must know if my intuition was right about who is the extra student!!)#((my silly self was indeed right about it hell yeagh!!))#the regular sized mouths AND badass facial expressions FU.CKING SLAYED in the last two eps #and the plot is just as neat! really loved the way they played a bit with names and stuff #still won't forget em for killing my girl sanae mizuno so soon <\3 #i get that they maybe wanted to like. better accentuate some info that's just been revealed to us regarding the nature of the deaths #but couldn't they just. idk-#kill someone else off? or draw attention to the deaths from ep 3?#sniff sniff...#'why do so many sillies i like keep dying :(((' girl you're watching the people are gonna die in (almost) each episode anime #what the hell did you expect-#<- me to me as soon as people started dying #speaking of which. the ways some silly died were creative. sorta #watching some death scenes made me thinkies of happy tree friends asdfaga-#i guess besides the umbrella one. all deaths scenes in the anime have an equivalent in htf #anyway.#silly stuff #it would have been so neat if a silly goofy dance scene were to actually happen in class instead of it being a dream #still sucks i can barely find anything when looking through related tags augh <\3 #anyway. gonna try to watch wonder egg priority before the mental illions get to me wooooo!!!

1 note · View note

ponderingmoonlight · 2 months ago

Text

How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)

Gojo Satoru

The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.

As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.

It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…

Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”

You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.

Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.

“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”

Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.

He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.

“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”

You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You think everything looks good on me.”

“That’s because it does.”

His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”

He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.

“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.

As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.

Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.

As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”

Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.

“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.

“Better than it does on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.

“Really? I think it’s a little big.”

Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,

“You should wear my stuff more often.”

His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?

“You want me to?”

He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.

“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I might just steal more of your clothes.”

Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.

“I don’t mind.”

Yuta Okkotsu

You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.

It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.

Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.

Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.

You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.

“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.

His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.

You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”

Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”

He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.

Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.

“I look… what?”

Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.

“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.

“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, Yuta.”

He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.

“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Not at all.”

Nanami Kento

It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.

You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.

Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.

You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.

“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”

Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.

“It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“If you don’t like it, I can-”

“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.

“I like it very much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.

“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”

Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.

“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”

You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.

“I doubt that.”

Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.

“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.

With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.

Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,

“Anytime, love.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut

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

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife

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

@risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

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

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

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

2K notes · View notes