#and i am never known for keeping my mouth shut unfortunately

[moonlightsapphic]

I can’t disagree that that was divisive of me to put it the way I did, so I do apologise for that. To be clear, I wasn’t being too serious and I don’t think young folks should be bullied at large by any means. I also don’t think users who are reblogging this want to pick on young queer folks. As a gen z I am also just shy of being a “young queer”. Most of the queer folks I am in community with are young.

But the gender essentialism-oriented separatist movement and “political lesbianism”, as well as the new exclusive definition of the identity “lesbian” (which was once used the same as the term “sapphic” to describe all WLW), all have a cultural starting off point in the ’60s, historically speaking. By definition, it’s not at all wrong to say that some shifts are contemporary phenomena. Have gatekeepers always existed? Yes. Do they sometimes exist on a larger scale, which speaks to the culture of the time? Also yes. Sapphics in the ’40s were more likely to know about the versatility of butch/fem than sapphics in 2025 might. Social media (in itself a modern phenomenon), while being an awesome resource to access diverse knowledge, has also fueled a misinformation trend where people will sometimes base their opinions on Tiktok videos and Tweets that don’t have sources. I would recommend everybody to watch the video and read the essay that I have cited as secondary sources to learn more. They’re super interesting and accessible, and they have many primary sources listed in case I have made a mistake anywhere!

In my country, not even queer adults have rights or visibility, though they might have some financial independence from their families. (That is also precarious because there are no legal protections for queer folks in employment.) It’s way more socially acceptable to be homophobic/transphobic than to be an ally, and even the word feminism is tabooed. The default is to stay closeted forever. I genuinely don’t even personally know any older queer folk, not even millennials (other than like, a couple of super lowkey public figures), in my country. I assure you I personally don’t need to be reminded of the vulnerability of young queer folk, but I appreciate the context added for users who come from countries that have more LGBTQ+ rights. I’m always glad to see older queer folks exhibit fierce protectiveness. I certainly did not have access to mentor figures like that when I was younger, but I try to get involved and do my part as an adult now.

At the risk of doubling down: Young people are as naïve as they are revolutionary, and that is just humans nature. My country has had some awesome sociopolitical changes led by youth and also some dumb as fuck ones. People of all ages have their quirks, some of which are, for better or for worse, generalizable. (Twenty-somethings like me, for example, unnecessarily meme on Tumblr about how exhausting young people can be, which is silly and egotistical too.) I haven’t really come across the queer youth hate train on here but I assure everyone my blog isn’t the place you’re going to find it. (Though you might find some desi millennial hate here and there if you’re into that, LMAO. I promise it’s justified and not that serious either.) It’s also … not very kind to knee-jerk mansplain a user you don’t know on a relatively non-inflammatory meme post. But I understand that the intention was positive and totally agree with everything said!

I learned a lot today from Obviously Queer’s video essay “FEMME: Lesbian History, Identity, Politics and Invisibility” and femmebis’ “The “Lesbian-Only Term” Myth: A Comprehensive Historical Essay on ‘Butch’ and ‘Femme’ ”.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.  

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body. 

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media. 

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings. 

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer.  Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy. 

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable. 

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform. 

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes. 

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that  had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality. 

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine. 

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him. 

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

[paiges-1vur]

pt. 1. | from across the crowd.. as always, enjoy loves <3 *prologue posted* 🏀⚡️🪩

“what.. you guys, why are you all looking at me like that!” my words led to only more strange looks. my friends all sat around me, mouths open. “tiff. oh my gosh. are you joking!” my friends all start bombarding me with insults and “i can’t believe you’s”

i seriously had no clue this girl even existed until my friends had shown me her.. ten minutes before the game started. while i didn’t even know of her existence, my friends seemed to know her whole life story.

“okay guys but should i put it on?” i ask the group around me. i mean, i was genuinely cold. i had goosebumps forming on my arms and legs from how cold it was in the stadium. i should have noticed something was off when i left my apartment and nobody else was in going out clothes.

my closest friend madisen, who also seemed to know the most about paige encouraged me to put it on. “she wouldn’t have given it to you if she didn’t want you to wear it.. right?” she says shrugging. i slowly pull the hoodie over my head, immediately feeling warmed up.

the hoodie says uconn basketball on it, and has paiges number and last name on it. im immediately flooded by her scent. she smells… really good. like a mix of musk, wood, and smoke. as the rest of the game plays out all i can think about is the fact that i’m wearing her hoodie. i didn’t want the moment to ever end. but it unfortunately did when the buzzer sounded and Uconn was announced the winner.

me and my friends decided to stick around after the game for a little while. they got up to throw out our trash, and empty drink cans while i tried to find paige. i wanted to thank her for lending me her hoodie. its the least i could have done.

as i get up to search for paige, i see her walk out of the locker room.. and walking up to me. she was smiling, standing in front of me, practically towering over me. to be fair, i am 4’11 but that is only due to terrible genetics, and a very short mother. “hey” is all she says, but its enough to make my heart beat faster.

“hey, your name is… paige right?” i say to her smiling innocently, pausing before saying her name, not sure if i had remembered it totally correctly. honestly i could forget my own name right now if she asked me for it. she laughs slightly before responding, “yea thats my name, you remember me?”

I try to play it cool. “well my friends wouldnt shut up about you the whole game” i say laughing. “i didnt even know who you were before i got here.. well they dragged me here, and then almost killed me when i didnt know who you were. long story” i say, trying to explain the crazy night i’ve had. she laughed harder than me, surprised at my confession. “oh.. so you’re telling me you just showed up here, not even knowing who i was?”

im slightly embarrassed, and i hope its not showing on my cheeks. “well.. I’ve never been a fan of basketball, so my friends knew i wouldnt come to the game. they told me we were going out to the bars tonight, and dragged me here. that’s why i was wearing such a… revealing outfit before you gave me your hoodie. bad outfit planning on my part. and yea to be honest i had never heard of you in my life” I try to explain clearly, but I’m not even sure if i believe this all happened in one night.

“oh, wow so you really had no idea who i was?” she sounds almost surprised at this fact. “no.. not really, why?” I say, a slight bit confused. i wonder if i should have known her.

“oh, here’s your hoodie, by the way” i say, pulling it off and folding it into my hands. im now left in ny old outfit. my jean mini skirt and Uconn tank top leave quite frankly, little to the imagination. im not very proud of how i look in this moment, but the least i can do is give paige her hoodie back. “nah, don’t worry about it you can keep it. you look..” her eyes roam my body quickly, “cold anyway. and it looks better on you than me.” i smile at her and slip it back on. the hoodie reaches my mid thigh, its so oversized. “thank you so much- again im so sorry i didn’t know the stadiums were so.. cold oh my gosh.” i say laughing.

she laughs too, looking down at me and smiling. she bites her lip, like shes thinking hard about something before she speaks again. “can i, ask you a question?” im suddenly intrigued why paige bueckers would want to ask me a question but i bite. “yea sure, go ahead.” i say smiling at her, awaiting her next words.

“you probably have a boyfriend.. right?”

[the-book-gnome]

Secret Obsession

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairings: Azriel x reader

Summary: After years of yearning for the Shadow-singer, you finally have a chance to act on your twisted urges

Warnings: smut, somnophilia, oral(male reiceveing) non-con if you squint, shadow play

A/n: This is definitely a little rough, it’s been awhile, the writing is probably not great but at least I tried

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not? It truly causes you no harm, it’s just a small request.”

“If you want Azriel then go get him, I am not going to play matchmaker for you.”

You rolled your eyes at Rhys, after three centuries he still refuses to help you with your feelings for his brother. It’s not that you fear Azriel, you simply don’t want to have to deal with the awkwardness of his rejection if things were to go wrong. And unfortunately with your luck that would be highly likely. “You act as if it would be a difficult task, all I’m asking is for you to set me up with him on a mission, I will do the rest of the work.”

“And you act like there is any part of you that is in any way good at spying,” A sly smirk spread on his face as he looked you up and down, “Or being quiet in general, I don’t believe there has been a single hour where you’ve been able to keep your mouth shut, you even talk in your sleep.”

“We’ll you're being a little rude today, trouble in paradise?” Now it was your turn to smirk as he growled at you, you batted your lashes to him and put on the sweetest smile known to male-kind, “Pretty please?”

Rhys rolled his eyes at you, “You’re obsession with my brother is quite annoying, and as honored as I am to be the only to know of your affections to him I will not help you, but, how about this,” Rhys took your arm in his as he lead you through the hallways of the house of wind, speaking quietly, “If you don’t approach Azriel by the end of the night and make your affections towards him known, then I’ll make sure to tell him of all of your most embarrassing thoughts of him, maybe I’ll even tell him how your mouth starts watering the second his scent reaches your nose or even all of those dark twisted fantasies you daydream about. I’m sure that’ll scare him off,” A soft laugh escaped his lips as he looked down at your petrified face, “But who knows, perhaps that’ll interest him, he does have a different taste then most I know.”

As you reached the dining room he let go of your arm and walked towards his mate, giving you a wink over his shoulder. You stood in the middle of the room, your face scrunched up in anger.

“At Least I’m not the only one he likes to piss off,” You jump a little as Nesta whispers into your ear. You grunted at her comment and relaxed your body, you both walked over to the table where the weekly family dinner took place. Rhys forces all of you to be there no matter how busy you may otherwise be. As per usual you take your seat to the left of Nesta, Cassian at her other side. What was unusual was when Azriel sat himself to your right, he had always sat next to Feyre, never you.

Azriel’s shadows floated over you, dragging across your cheek in greeting, it seemed they never behaved when you were within proximity. Azriel had given up on trying years ago. “If you don’t mind, could you come to the library with me after dinner, there’s some information I need to find and you would be a great help?” His voice was soft as he leaned in to whisper his request into your ear.

You simply nodded towards the male, always the perfect picture of boredom when he was around you. At that he gave a small smile, then started stacking food onto his plate, the rest of the inner circle had already started.

——————

You trailed after Azriel to the library, dinner was the same as always, as everyone spoke and made jokes together you simply raised the shield around yourself to conceal and scent and went into your mind, dreaming of those dark twisted fantasies Rhys had mentioned earlier.

Sometimes you feel guilty thinking of Azriel the way you do, all of the ways you would use his body for your own pleasure. How badly you wanted to make him beg for you. The day dream you had at dinner was quite captivating, it was most likely now or never with Rhys’s little threat, Azriel might run far from you if Rhys were to tell him those stories.

“I’ve already made a stack of books for us to read through, there’s quite a few so if you would like to stop at any time I won’t mind restarting in the morning.” Azriel had led you to a quiet lower level in the library, it was late, all of the priestesses had already gone to bed so it was just the two of you till morning. Perfect for what you want to do.

You sat in a cushioned chair adjacent to the one Azriel had sat in and began with the first book. It was extremely mind numbing, it took all your focus to read these books, often having to restart the page. Hours past by, you’ve made it through another book, a true mystery that was. Azriel had made it through three already. You glanced over at him, his face showed pure concentration, it was a wonder to you how he was so interested in these boring ass books. You let out a little sigh as you continued on with the reading.

With the fourth book you had finally found interesting bits and pieces, enough for you not to notice Azriel dozing off next to you. That was until you heard the softest of snoring coming from him. Your head snapped to his direction in confusion, he had never fallen asleep around you before. Part of you thought he never slept at all. You were in awe at the sight of it. The hardened features of his face softened, his plush lips slightly parted, the book in his hands about to fall to the floor. His shadows swirled around his body slowly as if they were falling asleep as well. You set your book down and made to reach for the one in his hands. When you touched it his shadows perked up assessing your intention, when you slipped the book from his hands and set it next to your own they glided over to you. They swirled around your arms, settling around your waist.

You looked back to Azriel who so conveniently was still fast asleep. The thoughts of your fantasy from dinner crossed your mind. And as you slid to the floor and sat yourself between the spymaster's legs, his shadows did nothing to wake him, as if knowing what you intended to do, letting you do it. You reached for the ties to his leather pants, hands shaking a bit, the excitement of what was about to happen going through you. The space between your thighs had started the second you saw him fast asleep next to you.

Once the ties were done with you watched as a small shadow played gently with his cock, the other moved up to his face, lazily stroking through his hair, making sure to keep their master asleep. You watched as his cock hardened through his leathers, the shadow working quickly for you as you were getting impatient. Your panties were already soaked with how excited you were to finally be able to touch him. You watched as the little shadow joined the other up by his hair. Biting your lip you moved your hands back to his lap, slowly pulling the fabric down just enough to pull Azriel’s cock out.

A breath escaped your lips as you laid your eyes upon it, so much bigger and thicker than you had thought possible. What the other females say about wingspan must have been true then.

His tip was red and looked almost painful, you looked up to him, his mouth parted a little more, his brows drawn together. It wasn’t your fault his shadows did this to him, if anything, you would only be helping him with his problem. You leaned forward and licked a bead of his liquid that leaked from his tip, moaning at the taste you went back for more, dragging your tongue from the base to the tip. You slid your mouth down a bit, sucking harshly, your grip on his cock tightened. Your eyes rolled as you truly tasted him. Azriel gasped at the feeling, still in a deep sleep thanks to the shadows.

You closed your eyes and took more of him in, going as deep as you could, what wouldn’t fit down your throat your hands took care of. Another breathless moan came from his lips as you started bobbing your head, tracing your tongue around the veins of his cock. His hands twitched next to you. You gaged every time he hit the back of your throat, that only drove you to go faster, every moan from him made you feel even more obsessed with him. You could feel his cock twitching, so close to his needed release. You indulged the needs of his body, stroking the base and adding pressure. You moved your mouth back to his tip, your hands taking over the rest of him, sucking and swirling your tongue around his head, that tipped his sleeping body over the edge, you both moaned the second his come coated your mouth. Azriel’s hips jerked and his moans continued, you’d never heard such beautiful sounds before.

You swallowed around him, licking up any of the mess he made. Before tucking his cock away you gave it a quick kiss, a farewell until you could play with him again. His shadows left his head, moving to dance across your body, slipping through your panties, you shooed them away, “Not yet,” You whispered, standing up on shaky legs, buzzing with need. You ignored those urges, wanting him to be awake when you put his cock in you.

You stroked your hand in his hair, leaning down to kiss his flushed cheeks. His eyes slowly fluttered, finally waking up. You left before he saw you, heading to the main doors of the library. He will assume you have gone to bed, and come to get you in the morning to continue with the reading. He would never suspect a thing. The only evidence was his untied strings, you did not remember that little fact though.

[mindfang-srevenge]

I'm still on the topic so here's Static's Official Dancestor Coffee Tier List, of which of course means ranking the Dancestors based on who's going to be the best to go out and get coffee with. Not strictly in a date sense; just in a hangout sense.

Aranea. Before she went power hungry she was a nice, genial woman who told rambling stories. She will ensure the conversation never falls flat, but also she will definitely notice when your eyes glaze over and she's completely used to it. She's just nice and chill and-- when not trying desperately to live up to Mindfang's shadow-- wants to be nice to other people. You have a positive experience getting coffee with Aranea and she seems completely genuine about it.

Porrim's a feminist! And you're going to know that Porrim is a feminist. But she has enough other hobbies that it waters down the extreme social justice (unlike Kankri, who has no other hobbies). She's probably working on a really cool sewing project and is willing to tell you all about it. She wears nice jewelry and nice makeup and has nice tattoos. She may try to ask you back to her place afterwards but will be nice about it and will understand if you say no. Anything that Porrim says seems to be absolutely genuine and she seems to give good advice.

Latula, who's a R4D SK4T3R G4L and will probably not be outright mean to you or anyone nearby during your coffee hangout, which is the absolute minimum. She will skateboard there and she will show you cool tricks. She's got a great taste in music. She's a little bit loud. There's a constant cloying background feeling that she's putting on a show to make you happy.

Rufioh. It's an amicable experience above all else. He probably does not try to ask you out or say anything that's out of line with the Hays Code. He's pleasant to be around, if not the most scintillating. He's an anime guy and I have known a lot of anime guys, which is both a positive and negative in and of itself. The hangout falls flat not because of either party's horrific douchebaggery (as there is with some dancestors) but just because you'd talked about everything you wanted to talk about. If you're charming enough, he might pay for your drink.

Cronus, and him ranking this high is definitely due to personal bias. Sure he's a sleazeball. Sure he's a creep. Sure he's at least mostly genetically Space Hitler. He's genuinely rated as "the worst character in Homestuck". But hear me out, I'd fall for the greaser gambit hook line and sinker with no puns intended. I am, unfortunately, the kind of gal who this shtick works on. This platonic coffee outing could willingly turn into a non-platonic coffee date.

Mituna? Listen he's my little guy but I'm kind of worried about him. He's kind of hyper already and also not a fantastic conversationalist. Keeps making uncomfortable sex puns, but is otherwise probably cool to hang out with. He has and can ride a skateboard, although I probably wouldn't ask him to do tricks. Probably has a phenomenal taste in music, maybe even better than Latula's. Potentially positive experience.

Kurloz, who's kind of the waypoint between positive and negative experiences. There's absolutely no conversation, he orders and then does not communicate anything else. You try to talk to him and he stares at you blankly. He's probably stoned. I'm not entirely sure that he can drink coffee because, again, his mouth is stitched shut and it's probably at least a little bit disturbing to look at! It's not the best you can do but it's also not the worst you can do.

Meenah. She doesn't want to be there and will tell you so herself. Keeps trying get you to join Multi-Level Marketing schemes she just made up. You give her money now, and she'll send you the product later. Gets a call halfway through the hangout, takes it then and there and loudly. You're not sure if it would be polite or impolite to leave, especially considering she's the heiress.

Meulin, who comes in visibly stoned and won't shut up about her ships. Listen, y'all, I can't stand the 2012 'all the feels' 'otp' shipping vernacular and I'm easily either annoyed or grossed out by ships. I'm not anti ship-- to each their own-- but I oftentimes actively avoid the culture. Meulin is shipping culture and cute squeaky voices condensed into one woman who also likes to pretend she's a cat sometimes. She knocks your drink off the table if you put it too close to the edge and then she laughs at you and then she wants to talk about how much she wants all of her friends to get together. She's got charts and you're down both your coffee and the next three hours.

Damara, but listen. She ranks low but she's a great character, the implications of almost everything about her are fascinating. Just . . . not someone I'd want to take out to coffee. She's undressing you with her eyes the entire time, especially when the coffee was meant to be entirely platonic. She keeps saying hard-to-decipher things in East Beforan that you're almost certain are weird and hypersexual, but you don't know enough East Beforan yourself to catch exactly what those little comments mean. All in all a lot of my issues with Mituna are the same issues I have with Damara- ie, hypersexuality-- but Damara is Worse about it. You manage to keep a conversation going but it's deeply uncomfortable the whole time.

Horuss, mostly because he's going to be weird and sweaty and twitchy the entire time. Also he's going to be absolutely terrible at making conversation. Dead silence, you can't really make eye contact because of the goggles, you can't tell where he's looking but you can tell that he's sweating bullets and keeps twitching around. Whatever he's looking at, it's almost never you. I'm not comfortable with the energy in this coffeeshop today.

Kankri (this is NOT a Kankri apprectiation space.). Bastard man. Dosen't shut up, and most definitely DOES NOT let you get a word in edgewise. Will not stop talking about how drinking coffee is somehow innately disrespectful to anti-deforestation efforts and the fact that his iced sugar disaster came in a plastic cup is deeply offensive to like everyone ever and then-- AND THEN!! He starts talking to every. single. passerby about all of the same things. Multiple people. Multiple hour rant. Did I mention he constantly carries-- AND USES-- a pay-attention-when-I'm-speaking whistle.

[gibbearish]

I need help I think/know I'm trans but don't know how to come out and don't know whether I am brave enough to come out I'm scared people will judge me

hey there! so this unfortunately isnt gonna be super in my expertise wheelhouse, my coming outs have all been weird, but ill definitely give it a shot. as far as how to come out goes, there's unfortunately never really gonna be a one-size-fits-all surefire way to do it, every situation will be different depending on who youre coming out to. it also isn't a one-time thing, especially once youve gotten over the initial hump; you may only have to come out to each person once, but you will always be meeting new people and having to decide how/when/if to come out.

myself for example:

my mom - found out through my facebook message telling her we were going low contact

my dad - found out through my facebook post announcing id been on t a year and was changing my name

my brother: found out over text just before i started t

my boyfriend: came out 3 years into dating, proposed starting t via powerpoint presentation

my roommate: has known since we were like 15

my close friends: would ask me my pronouns every few months and knew before i did probably

my coworkers: didn't get told jack shit but watched t make me go from baby face to full beard and either figured it out and switched to he/him, or didnt and got weird looks from everyone else there because the_waitress_thinks_you_have_dementia.jpg

my boss: got told because a coworker was being weird about using my full name and i had to explain why it annoyed me

so like. none of these really have a common theme, beyond that most of them were done over message because i find it easier to share important things that way, my mouth doesnt like saying things out loud sometimes so i have my thumbs do it and the important part is that it gets said at all, so i try not to stress about the medium.

the last bit of advice i have is simply this: yes, people will judge you. people will think you look weird and will think you made the wrong decision. people will stare at you and will whisper about you and shuffle their kids away from you.

but here's the thing: people will do that anyways. you cannot stop people from judging you, it's human nature. you judge others as well, its not something we can turn off. so the question then becomes this: how much do you value their opinion? the stranger trying to keep her kids from being infected by your icky transness, do you think her opinion should be respected? the person staring at you for Looking A Way They Dont Like, is that the kind of behavior you want to conform to? to reinforce? the guy yelling slurs at you on the street, will you sit down and shut up and do as he says and stop existing as yourself? or will you exist louder?

youre already brave enough to live even if people will judge you, youre doing it right now. so really the question is, are you brave enough to stretch the boundaries of the things youre willing to let people judge you for? i think you are. you were brave enough to send this ask and come out to me, the seal is broken now. so i believe in you:)

[babypinkhearts]

like the sun.

pairing: gojo satoru + reader

summary: satoru’s presence reminds you of the sun. like helios, the sun god, you attributed.

warnings: kind of enemies to lovers? reader is a year older than gojo, angst (my fav :3), little cameo from geto. gojo is (secretly) so down bad, mention of violence, blood, and anything of those sorts. also set before geto’s defection.

word count: 7.2k

a/n: i am back from my writing slump! i was (very) burnt out from my last fic, but i think my spark is back :) i’ve mentioned this kind of plot once or twice before, so i NEEDEDDD to write it out to satisfy my head <333 hope you lovelies enjoy!

i. blaze.

there’s a peculiar thing about heat.

summer sun is nearly unbearable, and yet you’re tempted to stay under it’s scorching glare longer. an enigma, because, in all honestly, your body felt like it could give out in any moment. the white cotton shirt was rather suffocating. it’s too close to skin, battling the weather for a more overwhelming presence. unnatural and stiff, arms raise, and it’s only with the most futile attempt that you stretch out sore limbs while simultaneously trying to catch your breath.

slight relief is given with small gusts of refreshing wind. limited by it’s lack of strength, but it does it’s purpose in cooling you off. morning training was preferable. it was less brutal — and more importantly, it saved you the trouble of having to spar with an immortal. he never woke up early enough.

an immortal, jokingly, because you’ve never been able to land a meaningful hit on him.

“where’d you get that?”

your arms pause, stilling from their position above your head. he’d granted you a small break. ‘generously,’ as he had put it. after two hours of exerting yourself, you’d grown to become indifferent to the absence of fatigue on his face.

a finger is pointed towards your side, eyes blue and curious, gaze almost as blunt as his tone. the slightest exposure of skin is shown, shirt lifted from your previous movements, and his eyes remained fixed upon you. expression unreadable, a smile oddly lacking. it makes you a little self-conscious, and you reach to pull the fabric back down.

“scar.” you dryly answer, resorting to turning away, contorting your back to hear a small ‘crack!’

blue still penetrates you. it watches, carefully.

“looked pretty big.”

you bite your cheek, sparing him a side glance.

“it’s old.”

he doesn’t miss a beat. he never really does.

“how old?”

a small huff escapes your dehydrated lips, and your brows furrow.

“got it last year.”

before you knew him, to be clearer. you’d elaborate, make it known, but your chest stings of exhaustion, and the sun is, again, too hot.

truthfully, your response fails to provide satoru with satisfaction, and you can tell that he’s got a few more questions (or a million) to ask. but he keeps his mouth shut, and nods in simple understanding. you only watch as he straightens his posture, and a smile — notably, grazing his lips with some strange hesitation — shows up once more.

“break’s over.”

•••

you’re introduced to gojo satoru during your second year at jujustu high. it was like a chunk of the literal sun (something you’d reiterated was so distasteful and unpleasant to be under, yet strangely captivating) had been taken and left on earth, blazing with desire, and legitimately brighter than everything else around it. like helios, you attributed. a sun god.

an anomaly in your vision, only a few doors down from you.

he was unbearable.

if arrogance could conjure itself into a person — if all the annoyance in the world could simultaneously join at once — it’d create him. the product of too many bad things.

and of course, you’d expected his arrival. it felt like the only subject of your entire first year — the legend, the “honored” one. for him to attend your school grounds the following semester, and to truly give the universe a glimpse into his true power.

because what was he really capable of?

“again, too slow.”

you’d come to accept an unfortunate feat of failure.

swept off your feet by nothing but air (and a forceful kick), gravity pulls you back down, and you hiss as your back hits the floor. your head almost collides with it, but a nudge to your side reminds you to keep it lifted. in retrospect, it’s thoughtful, but you nearly glare.

you can feel where you’ll be sore tomorrow. it stings just a little too much for comfort, and your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to suppress the ache.

a body so regularly bruised, you’re surprised the injuries themselves haven’t come to life and begged you to stop moving.

satoru stands above you, a white collared long-sleeve accentuating his pale features. linen, almost. it’s a bit see-through, and it shines nicely through the rays behind him. his darkly tinted glasses rest upon his face. they sit a little below his nose.

blue peeks out.

“god, yaga wasn’t kidding.”

he sounds almost bored. with the privilege of being so careless, so relaxed and expectant, he raises a brow at your silence and nudges you once more.

it’s quietly humiliating. a cycle that continues, until you’ve had enough and choose to end the embarrassment. satoru’s pliant, always awaiting your call. because, simply, he can do that.

slowly, you blink, looking up to meet his partially covered eyes.

they used to scare you. not from intimidation or general nerves, but because they were vibrant. deeper than ocean’s water, a shade unlike anything humane. it puts a greater boarder in between the two of you. a stronger picket fence.

you know that if you ask, you won’t like the answer. but the pitying, mocking smile satoru has is getting under your skin, so you breathe a small, “what?”

satoru’s smug.

you watch as he whistles and looks off to the side, temporarily ignoring you.

and then, he shrugs nonchalantly.

“nothing.”

your eyes narrow. you can feel your annoyance bubbling, and it threatens to tip over, but you shake your head in retaliation.

“okay.”

it’s a trap, you know it’s a trap, because satoru’s head perks up, and he looks at you questionably.

“you don’t want to know?”

your eyes roll, so severely you momentarily feel a little twinge of pain.

“no, i’m good.”

and you ignore his out-reached hand, getting off the floor by yourself.

you’re tired.

it’s well past noon. another afternoon of seemingly pointless training because suguru and shoko had been out on a mission, leaving you alone once more with the embodiment of your nightmares.

you were tempted to complain to yaga, but knowing his twisted ways of teaching, it’d probably only land you more time with him.

unfair.

“not even a little curious?”

ignoring him was difficult. you’ve become too accustomed with sarcasm, and it’s sickly rewarding to see his face fall to pieces, because he’s everything and perfect. infuriatingly so.

“no, leave me alone.” your voice holds some annoyance now, and you’re still hearing his footsteps behind yours as you make your way inside the dormitories.

it’s like clockwork. so expected, you can’t find it in you to tell satoru to actually leave.

he’s never listened to you anyways.

upon reaching your door, you slowly let yourself in, and are unable to act surprised when you fail to hear it shut behind you. you can already picture the sight of his foot nudged in between the crack. you pay no mind, placing your weapon against the wall, and are forced to take a seat at your desk because of the unwelcomed guest who, suddenly, lays on your bed. like usual. peering up at you, a boyish smile illuminating such delicate features.

“what’s on today’s agenda?”

he speaks like that pretty often.

insinuating a we, us, our — as if the two of you are halves that make a whole, and are practically inseparable despite your clear discomfort. unwillingness, too.

“i,” you emphasize, glancing at him. “am going out.”

he’s pouting, you know before you even look at him again.

“where?”

you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, sighing softly. he’s like a baby duckling.

“i have a meeting with yaga, but he’s stuck at kyoto right now. i’m seeing him there.”

you watch as satoru’s head pokes up. for a sliver of time, he looks a little unsure, which is unlike his normal self, who speaks absentmindedly. and for that solid reason, you get the slightest ounce of concern. but you mask it, because heaven and earth both know the burden of his awareness.

“can’t be super important.”

your brow raises, and you scoff softly.

“not sure yet.”

silence seems to bother satoru, you’ve learned. he enjoys speaking, generally taking up time that isn’t righteously his. it’s a habit, one clearly too strong to break. entitlement.

but he speaks because he loves the interaction.

(specifically, he loves talking to you.)

and satoru isn’t stupid — he’s far from it. he’s able to read you well enough to know that he’s slightly wounded you. not too far from offense, though he’s able to see how fidgety you get as a result. he needs to learn how to shut up.

“i noticed you were slower today.”

spoken plainly. and you’re not looking at him when he says it, unable to spot the way he swallows thickly afterwards.

words spew out. there’s not much to talk about, you reason. you repeat that a million times in your head, only opening your mouth to respond when you’re sure it won’t be mean. too rash, and you’re positive the conversation would go a different way.

you shrug, looking at the floor.

“i was tired.”

it feels like the wrong to say. and satoru quickly proves your gut right.

“you’re always tired.”

his bluntness is weirdly shocking, which is the only reason why a small laugh escapes your lips. for a moment, you’re not sure how else to respond — what a sensible response would sound like. but you’re used to his antics, and it’s only a further reminder to keep your composure.

“well, you’re not exactly easy competition.”

you’re speaking lightheartedly, a bit of humor hidden in your voice. and though you feel rather pitiful to be using his abilities as an excuse, you tell yourself it’s a genuine reason.

but satoru is aware. he’s more than aware. he breathes the fact like air itself, because it’s been shoved down his throat since before he’s been able to even understand it.

he’s aware.

“but you’re not trying, either.”

at that, your body stills.

satoru isn’t smiling with you. and he’s not teasing, you finally realize. he’s being serious. but satoru has never been mean. he’s conceited, yes, but mean? you wouldn’t count his teasing as it, and he’s never gone farther than repetitive little jokes.

“what?” and you suppose you’re dumbfounded from disbelief, because your throat feels a little dry, and the forced smile on your face falls slightly. it twinges, unsure of how to read the situation.

“you’re not trying, i said.”

“no, no, i heard you.” you wave a hand, words quiet as you cough awkwardly. “i just… wasn’t expecting that.”

you feel a little dramatic. the tips of your ears burn, and embarrassment lingers across your skin. the floor is suddenly the most interesting thing in the room, and you wonder if he’s aware of the heightened effect those words sound coming from him. you’re uncomfortable.

“someone had to tell you eventually.” and this time satoru is the one who shrugs, peacefully laying back against your pillows as if he’d done something dutiful — like he was worthy of some sort of praise. “it’s noticeable.”

he’s never managed to leave you at a loss words. you’re normally quick with rebuttals, regularly despising the thought of him thinking he’s escaped bickering with you as a victor.

so your silence feels daunting, and you’re both equally as aware of it’s significance.

satoru jumps over your picket fence sometimes. as if breaking a fourth wall into your mind, and latching on to something more sour and unkept. he brings out emotions that are more real, and his honesty bruises your insides until they feel as sore as your own physical body. it’s daunting, and another testament of his uniqueness.

“thanks.” you finally mutter, awkwardly looking to the side to avoid his overall perception. “i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

satoru is like a brick wall. or, realistically, just some form of indestructible material. that fact alone should push you towards improvement. it should be a motivator. but when you train alongside him (albeit, rarely), you’re reminded of your naiveness from a mere year ago.

expectations should be kept low at all costs. it makes disappointment easier. jujustu brought upon the worst scenarios, and you’ve slowly learned to not grow attachments, or be too positive. because that’s what truly kills.

but, satoru. meeting satoru was like a fresh breath of air. everything about him was true, and even then he superseded his initial description. he’s more careless with his desires, nonchalant about limits. indulging in advice wasn’t him. he simply didn’t do it, taking his own word against others.

the dorm bed creaks, and you watch as he leisurely stands up, casual and quiet.

“well, just so you know,” his fingers tap against the door frame, and he lets himself back in, just by a tiny bit.

he pauses. hesitant again.

but this time, his voice comes out a bit louder. confidence declared. and you’re unaware that the tone is somewhat forced.

“yaga said you’re pretty weak. told me and suguru to go easy on you while sparing.”

the door shuts behind him.

•••

ii. taunt.

during the first week of your third year, a mission is assigned to you by jujustu tech.

well — not assigned, per say, but dutifully given.

by your compliance, and your raised hand in yaga’s office.

“i’ll take it.”

it’s immediate, and you ignore the stares from around the room. you don’t falter, looking to yaga expectantly. he’s a stern man. difficult to read, but easy to understand. he acts with logic, and is genuinely a respectable teacher at heart.

and yet you figure that he’s some form of evil, because he looks up from his paperwork, and replies with, “satoru will accompany you.”

as if he didn’t need to think twice, and the sound of your voice was enough to cement the decision.

your eyes narrow distastefully, though you don’t verbalize your exasperation. the subject of the matter is beside you, and you can feel that he’s watching your expression, but when yaga hands you both individual papers, any words he’s tempted to say die down. you’re sure you’ve made your feelings clear.

it’s another ten minutes of boring, long reminders before all of you are excused, and you’re sure your feet have never been quicker as you attempt to escape the mere vicinity of the room. your shoes click against the floor, and you feel others right behind you. irritatingly familiar.

“woah, woah, woah, slow down!”

an arm throws itself over your shoulders, and it’s difficult to not buckle under the sudden weight, a groan leaving you as you push back slightly.

the past year had only provided him with more confidence, and a stronger need to bother you at all times.

“first mission together!” satoru grins, waving his paper in your face gleefully. the excitement is obviously one-sided, but that seems to only fuel his amusement more.

your eyes shut tightly, and you sigh.

“a…” satoru ignores you, eyes scanning his paper, humming softly before a dramatic gasp leaves his lips. he leans into you a bit more. “grade one! that should be fun.”

and suddenly, his addition makes sense.

in jujustu ranking, you were still considered a grade two sorcerer. satoru soars higher, like he always has, and had surpassed you mere weeks after his initial arrival. expected, but still a little irrationally irritating.

“just leave it to me.” he waves his free hand that’s still over your shoulder. “i’m probably better fit to fight against it anyway.”

you wonder how much trouble you’d get into if you hit him in the face. you’ve thought about it more times than you could count. in present, it’s a near losing battle, and you only relent because he lets go of you at just the right moment.

realistically, it’d be nice of satoru to be more considerate. you disliked the passive aggressive comments, and can’t seem to understand why he’s always made them when you’ve never said or done anything to earn the taunting quips.

it’s his humor, you’ve heard, though it never feels as degrading when it’s directed at someone else.

you’ve tried your hardest to tolerate satoru over the past year, after realizing it was futile to be completely friendly. but you suppose he holds up his own barrier at times. you’re only given the leisure of peeking over, never getting the will to jump across. that’s another skill only he has mastered.

“meet here at nine tomorrow.” he smiles, carefree as he stops in front of you, halting your path. he pays no mind to your raised brow and crossed arms, adjusting his glasses so they sit higher on his face. “then we can leave, and hopefully we’ll be back pretty early.”

confused and still irritated, you shake your head in confusion.

“wouldn’t we be back early if we just… left earlier?”

satoru’s face sours, and a clear glimpse of his adolescent mind shows through when he shakes his head.

“nah.”

you don’t have the energy to argue over how idiotic he sounds, so you nod in agreement, and rub your temples deeply. it would be a long day, you’re sure, but nothing new his antics haven’t already trained you for.

“noon, then.” you mutter, taking one last look at him.

the air feels a little tense.

you nearly bite your tongue, debating on letting some additional comments fly out. but watching his demeanor (the pure nonchalance) frustrates you, and your eyes narrow.

“you know, i could probably take it on too. by myself.”

satoru stills.

it had been bubbling in your head since you’d left yaga’s office. clearly, as satoru notices the lack of regret on your face. it’s spoken like fact.

if it had been utahime beside him, saying those exact words, he thinks he might’ve laughed.

but in your case, it just feels different.

“well,” he pauses, and you know that you’ve truly caught him off-guard. his eyes trail over your face, and he almost expects you to cower a bit. it never comes. he’s shaking his head, shaking his thoughts, and his eyes find your again, voice softer. “it’s a two-person mission. so, tough luck.”

his smile returns. as if uninterrupted, and ’normal.’

satoru has a habit of suppressing his thoughts.

your eyes roll, ignorant to his inner conflict, and you ask — when will he take you seriously?

privileged in every aspect, and not one ounce humble. but really, he could do whatever he pleases. the world can’t stop him.

satoru shines brightly at you, blinding nearly. helios must be jealous.

•••

“he’s a lot to handle.”

it smells like smoke. bothersome to your worsening headache, but the open window is the only thing keeping your senses at bay.

shoko’s a bad influence, you’ve learned. ashes are regularly spotted on school grounds, the culprit being nearly the same every time. but she’d roped another into her habits, so pinning the blame was harder to do.

your eyes follow the cigarette in suguru’s hand as he exhales once more.

“you think?” it comes off as more bitter than sarcastic, and you’re annoyingly aware of the small smile that appears on his face. gray clouds around him momentarily, sculpting sharper eyes as they narrow in amusement.

“what did he tell you?”

you blink, tilting your head in confusion, silently asking for some clarification. suguru’s eyebrows raise, and he snickers.

“he said something to piss you off. what was it?”

you weren’t sure what the impression would be when you knocked on his door an hour ago. you weren’t even sure why you did it.

maybe it was because suguru was easy to talk to. a good listener, most definitely. and though he’s assumably been a cog in your self-depreciation, you can’t bring yourself to be upset at him too.

“um,” you pause. it weirdly bothers you that he’s right. that he’s able to read exactly what’s wrong, because either he knows you or satoru too well, or it’s both.

suguru stares, patiently. and there is no implication on his face that reads a, ‘knew it.’ he just simply awaits your words.

he’s a gentle soul, coaxing out fragile insides.

“well,” you breathe, rubbing your hands over your knees. it was aggravating, the small sense of discomfort you felt while reliving words that really shouldn’t matter as much as they do. it briefly holds your tongue, and you feel silly for making it this big of a deal in your head. suguru isn’t judgemental though, and you know that. it’s the only reason why telling him doesn’t feel like a bad thing.

“he basically said that yaga thinks i’m… weak.”

the silence that takes over the room is a little daunting, and throws away all confidence you had with suguru out the smoke-ridden window.

you wait for a laugh, a grimace — anything. but nothing every really comes. it’s only a huff of acknowledgement.

“ah.”

no surprise, no disdainful reaction. his smile stays intact.

you’d argue that suguru carried more wisdom than you’d ever be able to acquire. beyond his own years, it seemed. it was something about his aura, or just the way he carried himself. strangely, inhumanly graceful.

he looks to you, and there’s a glint in his eye that tells you something is aloof.

“what?” you impatiently ask, brows furrowing. his lack of response had begun to bother you, nerves etching across your bones.

another long puff causes you to turn your face away from him entirely, and you wince as the smell of smoke momentarily intensifies. it escapes out the window (once more) with the added effort of your ushering hands. suguru watches you for a bit, laughing a little, though ultimately sighs with a soft snicker.

“yaga never said that.”

for a second, you think that the lack of clean air has tainted your brain, and that you’ve misheard him.

the information settles in the air for a while. lingering, up until you’ve found a proper way to deal with it.

“seriously?”

the look on your face makes suguru want to laugh again, but he merely nods, sitting a bit straighter in his chair.

“yup.”

you have questions — a majority you know that suguru can’t really answer, so you minimize them into the broadest form, sighing softly, a little defeatedly.

“why would he say that, then?”

suguru hums, lifting a finger to his chin as he shrugs. “he might’ve thought it would push you more.”

your eyes narrow, and you click your tongue in annoyance. “that’s stupid.”

your cheeks warm a little as you register suguru leaning in, a sly smile on his face, his eyes shining with a bit of mischief.

“well, it bothered you, didn’t it?”

now, that felt kinda humiliating to admit. and you’re sure your face gives your thoughts away, so you nod, an easy admission.

“yeah.” you breathe, sighing. “it did.”

what you want to say, is that it bothered you that satoru said it.

his opinion, frustratingly, was something you heavily valued. no matter how many times he’s belittled you, or been generally arrogant. you stupidly seek his sunlight, his approval, and wish to always be under his rays.

“okay.” he raises his brows, staring. “then show him on your mission tomorrow. don’t let him interfere, and kick some ass by yourself.”

your eyes widen, barely, but suguru notices, and purses his lips. in comparison to each other, you’ve always found suguru to be the more sensible one. he prioritized rules, only really breaking them if satoru begged him to.

“you have more experience now.” and he’s unable to hide his wandering eyes as they find the hem of your shirt, as if perfectly picturing the damaged skin underneath. you’d opened up about the scar a few months ago, the first year’s backing you into a corner. satoru had been the most adamant to know. “it’ll be different.”

you don’t give much of an answer, a simple nod conveying your inner-conflict.

suguru watches, your eyes squinting in confusion as you shake your head. you utter your next question, and he has to hide his amusement.

“why does satoru dislike me so much? what did i ever do to him?”

suguru thinks you and satoru are intelligent in your own ways.

and then, at times like these, he believes he’s never met two people so incredibly dense.

silence, and an all-knowing smile is the only answer you receive.

•••

it could be wrong. it is wrong. dangerous, deviant, and stupid.

but despite all these bad thoughts, you’re still quietly shutting the door to your dorm room. meticulously cautious, all in hopes to successfully escape a wrath imaginably worth ten thousand.

suguru didn’t mean this, you’re sure.

it’s immature, you’re aware, to head out on your own. you’re stuck imagining possible outcomes, and all the punishments that await you when you return. and yet once more, you thank the heavens, all gods that can hear, for satoru’s inability to wake up early.

campus is pretty in the early hours. the sun not yet rising, and grounds only illuminated by small scattered lamps. it’s peaceful, quiet from it’s usual bickering of your underclassmen. a moment of tranquility before the storm.

proof is what the world will get. it’s the objective of your heart’s own mission, regardless of whether or not it was a rational thing to do.

(it was most definitely not.)

to be strong is to understand weakness. and you’ll only let your emotions sway you as vulnerable. but you’re equally as aware that might just be your demise.

paper crinkles in your hands.

the report is relatively detailed. a street name is in thick black ink, and it’s hard to miss the red stamp labeling the file, ‘grade one.’

a breeze. ‘fun,’ like satoru had put it.

the mind is fragile. nerves send it in a frenzy, and you suppose affirmations are the only way that you can attempt to keep your heart from racing. it’s guilt, also.

he’s probably still asleep in bed. laid beside pillows that you know are too ridiculously soft, and having a single alarm on his phone because you’re aware that he is generally a light sleeper. but satoru needed to see you differently. a better perception — a kaleidoscope of mystery. because, unfortunately, some hint of acknowledgement from a god keeps mere mortals standing.

it takes almost an hour to finally set your eyes on the street, and when they do, you begin to second-guess your flawed plan.

from exact numbers and location, a warehouse is where you end up. battered, and clearly worn down. a perfect spot for a curse in hiding.

though if satoru was here, he would have laughed.

the cursed energy emitting from the building is unmistakable. it’s strong, and it involuntarily speeds up your already-abnormal heart rate. hiding is plain stupid if it’s energy is that obvious. but it’s also still dark out. you doubt the building even has electricity, though dawn seemed to be rather close. you could hold off until then.

you stand outside for longer than you wish. reality seems to dawn upon you at that moment, and it’s there that you realize you’re truly too stubborn to walk away. you’d go through with it, no matter what would happen now.

and as you’re walking, it feels like your body isn’t controlling itself. there’s a heightened fear striking all your senses, and you’ve completely submitted to instinct, not trusting your mess of thoughts. you pray for a little forgiveness, a little mercy, and head inside.

it’s bare.

with the exception of broken plywood and fallen beams, it’s nearly vacant.

the doors you enter through are flimsy, and whether it be your mind in a frenzy, or an attempt to postpone time for as long as possible, you quickly barricade them with the pieces of discarded wood. at the very least, it’d prevent any chances of normal civilians from entering.

every bit of cursed energy seems to draw you towards the opposite end of the building.

and there’s not much you can do when materialized arrows welcome themselves into your vision, a quick dodge being your eyes’ only savior.

“fuck.” you breathe, swallowing thickly. you’re scared shitless, anxiety hardly alleviated by the close call. a hand rummages to the sheath connected to your waist, and you close your eyes tightly, counting yourself down from initiating your first strike.

“okay, okay, okay.”

your weapon unveils itself.

•••

iii. glory in the sun’s rays.

heavy breaths are the only sound echoing across distant walls.

but besides that,

serenity.

it’s quiet.

like particles, hope sprinkles in, and the curse in front of your eyes disperses — successfully exorsized.

in that moment, you truly believe there is no better sight. nothing that can possibly grant that level of satisfaction.

your mouth tastes a little like metal. it’s bitter, and you suppress a wince, too relieved to really feel an ounce of worry.

there’s broken panels from all around. holes in the walls, gaps in the ceilings, and you wonder how you even managed to reach such high places — especially given the state that you’re in.

and despite your contentment, your body sends itself into a momentary coughing fit.

something stings — it hurts bad, but loud footsteps, running, running, running, echo on the other side of the barricaded doors, and the wooden panels wedged in between the handles are broken, timbered pieces thinly scattered across the floor.

both doors fly open.

it’s a vague sense you have. the ability to feel him.

you’ve learned it well over the past year.

satoru’s cursed energy is unique. it creeps up on you, until there’s a realization that the only thing you can feel is him. situating himself as something important, far more attention-worthy than your own being. it’s suffocating.

you meet each other’s eyes.

he seems to be breathing nearly as heavily as you are. eyes blown out, a hint of something feral in his irises. you’re stagnant, reciprocating the attention.

“told you.“ you swallow thickly, a proud, fatigued smile on your face as you look at him.

it’s still quiet in the building. satoru stands a few feet ahead of you.

he looks disarrayed.

“i fucking did it, you idiot.”

clothes somewhat torn, hair slightly disheveled, you stand.

something was blooming. pride? an accomplishment of the unthinkable — proving a god wrong. going against all odds. but every sense, every feeling, dwindles as you finally muster up the attention to fully take satoru in. it’s more difficult to focus.

satoru looks strange, you think. eyes wide, face visibly more pale than usual. and he’s quiet, for once in his life.

it’s unpleasant, and you feel your body recoil a bit, physically tensing.

“what—“ you breathe heavy, eyes lidded as they look up to his. everything is kind of loud, including his stare. he’s crafted in white shimmer from your vision, and it’s easy to spot the uncharacteristic worry in his eyes. “what’s up with you?”

and for the first time since you’ve known him, gojo satoru seems small. though only differentiated by a mere year, you’re able to see that small spec of time fall upon his graceful features. like admiration crumbling, and a heavy heart dying.

gods shouldn’t fear things.

it’s shock, satoru thinks. it’s why he doesn’t immediately move, and why the walls around him seem to shrink.

he’s never been in such a state. every feeling foreign, and he thinks he might be sick for a second.

his hands are shaking, and he’s focused on red. a naturalistic color that’s been too heavily branded in his life, it feels wrong to not be indifferent about it. he should be accustomed to it, for those weaker have the misfortune of having it easily taint their skin. but gojo satoru is not heartless. (though in that moment, that’s all he wishes to be.)

your shirt is ripped from the bottom.

there’s a deep, grotesque wound that covers your lower stomach. the gash follows upwards, nearly identical to the scar he’d seen upon his first few months of knowing you. satoru had later learned that it was from your first mission alongside mei mei. you’d been separated from each other for a second too long, and it’d landed you with a permanent reminder of your lost adolescence. your devotion and commitment to the jujustu world, left on your skin forever.

open, again, as satoru watches the blood flow down your side. a gory sight, and when your eyes begin to slow in their blinking, a switch seems to turn itself on in his head.

“no, no, hey-“ and he’s rushing forward, catching you a mere second before you fall. gentle, anxious hands cradle and guide, up until your body is on the floor, and those same hands are pressed excruciatingly harshly against your abdomen. “keep—shit, keep your eyes open.”

satoru thinks he feels his heart die. if life is real, surely it had just shriveled into nothingness. because as soon as he applies pressure to the gaping wound, you’re frightened, crying out and weakly attempting to push away his unrelenting arms.

“fuck, stop-“ you’re wheezing, too pain-stricken to utter any other thought. a sliver of that unruly color trickles down the side of your mouth, and satoru believes he’s never felt emotion, panic, this intense.

his brain fogs, fuzzy and disconnected as he blinks rapidly, his breath palpitating as he reaches for his phone. his hand is ruined in the color of your state, coated fingers dialing at an inhumane speed.

satoru doesn’t register shoko’s voice. he’s repeating the same thing over and over again, for help, because he’s utterly useless for you. broken in repetition, emotions being indescribably shaken.

the blood in your mouth tastes more bitter than before. to see him hysterical felt wrong. satoru had always been something stable for the world to lean on. the universal rock, who would never dwindle. the task that comes with the title, ‘the strongest’ replacing his own personal persona.

and, you think again, expectations should really be kept low at all costs.

your eyes threaten to unfocus, trembling lightly as they try to stay open. satoru’s stomach drops, and he’s immediately shaking you gently, reminding you that ‘you’ll be fine, just look at me.’

he’s far too tense to be humorous. the wit has locked itself in a cage, and he takes in the reality of being realistic.

gojo satoru cannot deny his six eyes.

it looks fatal.

but despite your state, there’s charm in your weak, scarily optimistic demeanor.

“satoru?”

his eyes snap to yours.

he’s too selfish to shut you up, body yearning to hear your voice, no matter how defeatedly tired it sounds. it’s a little hoarse, and there’s no doubt in his mind that fatigue had stolen your energy to speak any louder. but he supposes he’d hear you even if he was buried underground.

you’re looking up to him like nothing is amiss. innocence sparkles the tiniest bit in your hazed vision.

there’s a tiny ghost of a smile that lingers on your stained lips. a wince plagues your expression shortly after, a curse and stuttered breath leaving you as satoru’s hands abruptly shift.

“ow—ow. be g-gentler since i’m fucking dying, satoru.”

satoru wants to hit you over the head, your labored breaths squeezing his very soul. he’s visibly tempted, and it’s only with the sight of extra glimmer in his eyes that your face falls slightly.

you want him to make a joke. you crave it. any form of banter, you silently plead.

but unbeknownst to you, satoru feels almost angry. how are you this calm? have you accepted something that he doesn’t want to verbalize? what could possibly be amusing about this?

“shut up. shut up, please.”

weak, and fragile, his voice nearly breaks. you watch him for a bit, eyes curious as they study. and though your vision is blurry, and you can feel yourself getting progressively lightheaded, you tap him gently.

you’re at fault. you’re conscious enough to remember that.

“‘s gonna be okay.” the words come out a little slurred, but still understandable. you attempt another insistent smile, a hand raising to wrap around the wrist plastered against you. “not dying, was just kidding.”

satoru isn’t used to being watched so intently. your gaze is intimidating despite your lowered eyelids, and you silently map out every curve and inch of his complexion. (just in case.)

it’s an odd predicament. for a few minutes, you expect the world to go dark, and for your words to end up being meaningless as death takes you by it’s hand. satoru’s voice sounds distant, scarily far, but you’re able to make out a few whispered pleas. vulnerability is something beautiful, you decide.

it gets harder to listen, and you get a greater urge to rest. maybe for a millennia. your soul feels drained, and a long, uninterrupted sleep is the only thing your brain allows you to register. satoru fades when the world does.

•••

“it was dumb.”

“that’s known. why say it again?”

“because it was dumb.”

you know that life has been lenient, allowing you to continue, as it welcomes you back with familiar voices. you don’t alert them of your awoken state until you feel confident that they’re real.

it’s with a glance that you’re revealed, and the gasp of one makes it known to the other.

satoru is still tempted to hit you. but, he settles with a small wack on your resting hand. you wince, glaring as you blink away your exhaustion. you kinda feel like the rest of your body is on fire.

he’s upset, clearly. watching you with careful vision, and completely silent. but all you’re thinking is how thankful you are to have him actually care.

he keeps his distance.

“you got lucky.”

suguru speaks up, staring, and you can only describe his expression as both relief and disappointment. his eyes trail across you, and you’re made aware that your body is covered amongst thin medical sheets. when he meets your eyes again, one look is enough to tell you of his silent order not to lift them. you follow through, because the mere thought of it is unappealing enough.

“i’ll give you guys some privacy.” he mutters, not without shaking his head, and sighing. it’s nerve-wracking, his demeanor overpowering but oddly tame. just before leaves, he looks at you once more, pursing his lips. his grip on the door is tight. “i’m glad you’re okay, though.”

the air is tense. you beg the world, to anything obtainable, to postpone suguru’s exit, but the sound of the door closing after him leaves your pleas unheard.

you count seconds silently.

it takes ten for satoru to break.

“did you get stupid overnight?”

you snort, tossing your head back in slight retaliation, knowing satoru would probably worsen the headache you can already feel forming.

“seriously, answer me.”

you’re weak to his sternness, blinking in surprise at his tone. he’s unrelenting, brows furrowed as he awaits your response. you look to the wall.

“i’m alive, aren’t i?” you hesitantly reply, a futile attempt to ease the discomfort that is clearly present. it only lands you a scoff, and satoru abruptly stands up, crossing his arms as he looks down at you.

it’s not his favorite sight in the world. there’s a bandage around your head, lightly stained, and he’d seen the state of your injuries before shoko had ultimately pulled the blanket over you.

considering what could have been, he’s more than grateful. but satoru has trouble expressing himself, and it’s a type of flaw that can’t be easily fixed with training.

he shuts his eyes, briefly, and exhales.

“i thought you were a goner.”

upon you losing consciousness, shoko had arrived a mere minute later. satoru thinks the look on her face will be branded into his memory for life — solemn, pitying, and definite. it was only with the help of denial that he had moved with urgency, and commands were thrown at shoko to keep you stable enough for transportation.

a surgery later, and it was told that you would live.

“felt like it.” you cringe, recounting the initial level of pain you had endured when satoru had first found you. it’s subsided for the most part now, though you hold a lingering fear to move, worried that it’d cause more harm than good. the flames of discomfort were decently bearable.

it’s unfortunate that you’re bedridden, for if it were up to you, the easiest solution to all your problems would be to leave the room all together.

satoru is a different person when upset. his presence is overwhelming, and you quickly learn that it is impossible to avoid him.

“i just…” satoru exhales, and there’s a clear conflict of contemplation when he shakes his head. “why would you do that?”

you almost want to poke his side, chastising his concern with a teasing smile and small laugh. but it’s painfully obvious that the last thing satoru wants is something embedded with humor, so you purse your lips, and shrug.

“i just needed to prove to myself that i was capable of defeating it. that i wasn’t useless — you know?”

there’s something you’re not saying; information that remains a mystery. satoru knows it. he can tell by the look on your face.

he’d deciphered the little secret piece the moment you had begun to look away from him.

but because satoru cares (in his own, strange way), he doesn’t bring it up. guilt somewhat gnaws on his insides, and he takes the opportunity to vaguely apologize, needing at least that in the air.

“you are capable. i knew that before all of… this.” satoru motions to you briefly, and despite the circumstances, his wince makes you want to snicker.

he watches your expression softly morph, and a more relaxed and delighted smile rests upon your lips. and he debates, for a while, because ultimately it feels wrong not to bring it up. he falls victim to his guilt.

“and, sorry for lying. suguru told me he told you.”

you nod gently, breathing out a heavy sigh. “kinda evil, satoru.”

in an instant, his eyes widen, and he’s waving his hands wildly.

“hey—hey! i only said it so it could push you more. you can’t work towards improvement without some motivation.”

“how would that motivate me?”

“personally, it would push me to change yaga’s opinion-“

“no, it made me feel like shit, actually.”

“okay, well, i didn’t consider that when i told you-“

“because you’re an idiot.”

almost comically, satoru’s mouth drops.

“who’s the one that fought a first grade by themselves?”

“well, i defeated it, so…”

“not the point.”

you’re smiling, a laugh escaping your lips. satoru doesn’t mirror you much, a more playfully annoyed look on his face.

you stare at each other for a second too long, before you feverishly look away.

the pain has calmed, you realize. you can’t really feel the ache at all.

for a moment, you’re reminded of suguru’s expression. that knowing look in his eyes.

you turn back to look at satoru. and you can feel your heart speed up, just a little, because realization dawns upon you, and you can feel yourself growing flustered.

you think you know what he was trying to say.

[not-that-blog]

Fuck the perception of the man or bear argument.

Bc someone said how if it was a man they knew, of course they would pick the man over the bear.

And I will be completely honest... no I fucking wouldn't.

If I had to unexpectedly face a man in my life or a pissed of red belly black snake or a funnel web or a brown snake (ya know, more realistic for my actual area because all three are available within a 20min drive and probably a 20-30min walk from where I live)… I would pick the wild animal.

Like 1. None of the men in my life hike so like, no.

But 2. You think after 25yrs with 23 of them being straight up trauma at the hands of men I even completely trust the ones I trust?!?

There is two, just two men who wouldn't trigger an immediate reaction of fear.

Both of whom I have ran to and cried into the arms of after realising that I was being abused by someone in my life.

Both of whom I have essentially lived with at some point for at least a month.

But I do not want to run into any men in my life randomly in the bush, under any circumstances.

And like I have reason, I don't trust my brothers, I don't trust my father (who has physically assaulted both of my brothers at some point in a way that could easily be described as potentially lethal intent), I don't trust my uncles, I don't trust my male friends, I don't trust anyones boyfriends, I never trusted either of my grandfathers (rightfully so bc one was an abusive asshole the other was a worse abusive asshole).

I don't trust men.

I have had men that I knew for seven+ years get drunk, handsy and sexually assault me.

I had men who actively engaged to prevent one kind of sexual assault happening to me to later feel entitled to my body because of that.

I had men who I believed were my best friends at the time later make it very clear they saw me nothing more than a body the group of them were just trying to sleep with regardless of my feelings about it.

I have been physically assaulted by strangers, by family, by friends.

Avoided handsy adult men as a teenager by being ridiculously loud and vocal. Constantly. And making it a threat. Making my voice a very clear and direct threat that no matter what you threatened me with, I didn't care enough to keep my mouth shut.

And that only worked because I had already kick started a criminal investigation into an adult man who was 'highly respected' in his communities and unfortunately my biological grandfather who is genuinely the worst human being.

So I was known for just going to the cops and when the cops couldn't do shit, I took it into my own hands by not shutting tf up about it.

I don't need to be asked 'bear or man' or 'snake or man' or whatever fucking else.

Nothing on this fucking planet is less trustworthy than a man.

And somehow this because a 'man or bear but the man is XYZ' for some reason...

The answer doesn't change.

Nothing makes me change my answer.

If I can't trust my own brothers, or my father to be someone I would be comfortable running into the bush, people who have lived with me most of my life, why the fuck would I even hold hope for a stranger?

Even the men whose moral codes I have trusted, do you really think that I ever fully believe in them to keep it? When I have watched the seemingly kindest and most protective men that I had willingly given my heart to, get drunk and refuse my no and still be stronger than me when they are completely smashed and I am stone cold sober.

When men I was ready to spend my life with decided stealthing was the route they were taking, or that they were going to constantly masturbate over me in my sleep and clean it up with my bright pink girl guides towel, ruining a priceless piece of my childhood by linking it to traumatic events, or deciding to rape me in my sleep, while I was dressed in a shirt my dad gave me when I was like 7 and winter pj pants... just pulled my clothes down, pinned me on my side and raped me... first thing in the morning while no one else was home.

Those were men that I had trusted.

One of them I had actually gone hiking with.

I have also faced a freshly shed, starving red belly black snake as it considered biting me for getting in it's way and almost stepping on it but the wallaby it was going after ended up being its choice.

I have grown up around brown snakes, at hatching season there's regularly just baby brown snakes on the foot paths where I live bc I'm close to an embankment where they lay their eggs.

I also live near a rainforest that is known for having a few different species of funnel webs, yes I have seen them first hand, on a tour of the rainforest thankfully with a professional showing us them.

Anti-venom on site.

But I have seen how incredibly fast and huge and deadly they are first hand.

I have also seen the damage of a fully grown red kangaroo on a truck, or the speed and bite of a dingo, feral pigs, crocodiles taking down prey in Northern Queensland, the head injuries from a dumbass who pissed off a cassowary, etc.

Like I am not 'blissfully unaware' of how violent and dangerous these things are.

But I know without a hint of doubt, that I would rather take on Australia's deadliest animals, knowing that I have no fucking reflexes to defend myself from them... then ever deal with a man.

Because there is not actually a single man who I trust enough to meet in the bush even if sometimes I say to them I would.

I don't believe in trusting the hands of anyone to not be violent, because I don't believe that anyone is truly a complete pacifist because I believe every act of peace and kindness is a choice and a conscious one, and so are acts of violence.

I would rather experience a torture by another creature than violence by a face and hand that matches mine.

[endogenicredstararchive]

Pondering Things 5: Poke Along Sylum!

Good afternoon, everyone! I hope you all are having a lovely day thus far, and if you're just now going to bed, I hope you have a lovely night!

These past three days have been quite stressful. Two of those days were spent outside of the house. I had to go to my PCP-- that means primary care physician-- on the first day. And on the second day, I had to go and see my therapist. Let me tell you, the first day was not easy. That was supposed to be the day that I came out to my doctor as tranmasc. And I was supposed to tell him that I wanted to seek some form of vocal therapy to deepen my voice. I had the moment to tell him, and I almost did. Problem was, that my dad came back from the lab a bit too soon. So, I unfortunately chickened out. I'm still mad at myself about that. I know my father we'll find out sooner or later, but I don't want him to yet. Hell, I don't think I ever will tell him. He's voiced his distaste for people like me. So, for the sake of my own physical safety, I have to keep my mouth shut.

I also had to get my blood drawn on the first day, so that some tests could be done. Let's just say I don't do well with needles. That was the start of my anxiety for the day. Then, I learned that I have to start using a glucometer. That's a little device that monitors a person's blood sugar. You poke yourself in the finger with a needle, and feed it to the machine. It then tells you how high or low your blood sugar is. So, yes, I'm pretty much diabetic now. Specifically, the doctor said I was pre-diabetic some time ago. As previously stated, I don't do well with needles. So, coupled with my intense anxiety from that day, I've been feeling rather awful. I've been both mentally, and emotionally exhausted. But, fret not! I'm slowly but surely recovering.

I used my glucometer for the first time this morning. It was easy enough, I suppose. It definitely wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. Of course, that's what happens when your mind gives you the worst case scenario; you're so scared of the possible outcome, that the real thing tends to be quite tame. A tiny, little prick is nothing compared to the insurmountable pain that my brain conjured up.

I'm going to speak on one more thing. And, some of you may not like me for this. I've discovered quite recently that I am what is known as an endogenic system. That means I have alters/headmates without having trauma. Apparently, some people really hate that. Including the person that could be my canonmate. I asked them about it without mentioning that I am one. And they said, and I'm paraphrasing here, "I don't support them. You can't be a system without trauma." When I read those words, I felt as though I had been slapped in the face. So, I left the server that they ran, and I've not spoken to them since. As much as it wounds me, I don't think it would benefit me to stay friends with someone like that. This means that I've lost my second canonmate. Will this torment never end?

I suppose I shouldn't stop here for now. Thank you also very much for reading, and I'll see you in the next entry!

[taliasafamer112blog]

AfAmer112B #6

Hyperempathy. According to the UK Therapy Guide website, hyper-empathy is a syndrome that “occurs when you are too in tune with other people’s emotions and mirror them to the same intensity.” In other words, “you care too much.” People who have hyper-empathy can oftentimes find it difficult to regulate and stabilize their emotions, as they can easily pick up on negative feelings, especially if they are close to or surrounded by them. I would consider myself to be hyper-empathetic, however, I cannot decide if it is a blessing or a curse. We have studied the theme of hyper-empathy in a few of the works we have explored, such as Octavia E. Butler’s book, Parable of the Sower, and the film, The Brother from Another Planet, directed by John Sayles. Hyper-empathy is a significant condition experienced by the protagonists of both works; in Parable of the Sower, Lauren Olamina has a heightened sense of empathy, allowing her to experience the emotions of others; therefore, when she sees her fellow peers in pain and suffering, or even when they are happy, especially those in Earthseed, she feels as if it were happening to herself. In The Brother from Another Planet, the protagonist, known as “The Brother,” is a hyper-empath, as he can also deeply understand, experience, and feel the emotions of others. Therefore, just like Lauren, The Brother becomes a source of support and healing for everyone he crosses paths with. Due to their hyper-empathy, the characters in both works can help their peers and the people around them; however, it can also cause the protagonists themselves a lot of personal pain and suffering, as experiencing the pain of others is not easy and is an incredibly heavy weight to hold on one’s shoulders. 

Now, to return back to what I said earlier, I cannot decide if being hyper-empathetic is a blessing or a curse. I myself thoroughly enjoy being able to help those around me. I enjoy being there for my friends, loved ones, and family. However, I will say that although I don’t really, or actually, I should say, have stopped expecting to receive the same treatment in return, it does get a bit discouraging, seeing that I am oftentimes the only friend who wants to see my friends succeed. Unfortunately, more often than not, my friends will actually try to sabotage or find ways to prevent and hinder the success of others, especially that of their friends. I never really understood this, however, I have learned the hard way as no matter how much I would be nice, kind, and caring towards some of my friends, they would never “return the favor” and actually do the opposite, finding ways to sabotage my success and ensure I would not be able to succeed. For example, academically, some of my friends would not tell me the certain classes they were taking, the clubs they were joining, etc., to ensure that I would not join them, and thus, “reduce” their competition for graduate school. This is something that has happened to me all throughout this year and has hurt me greatly as I have been such a good friend to so many of these people, and I cannot wrap my head around how they could treat me like this, especially since I have always set them up for success and have always told them things to help them grow. Now that I have written this post, I can say that I have come to the conclusion that, realistically, although this may not be the “politically correct” answer, I can honestly say that being hyper-empathetic is a curse. I feel that this condition has caused me to allow people to walk all over me and take advantage of my kindness. I have noticed that those who are oftentimes considered to be “cold-hearted” live their lives for themselves rather than for others, and thus, they are ultimately happier individuals who actually end up being the most successful in the end. Throughout my life, this year especially, I have learned that being selfish is not a crime, and sometimes, I should just keep my mouth shut and to myself instead of trying to give beneficial advice to others, as unfortunately, despite what others may say, it realistically, at the end of the day, can hurt you and your future successes. 

[musesofchaos]

Itachi knew that Deidara wasn’t going to be pleased with the knowledge that Konan had allowed him to spend time with Ame, but he had to know sooner or later. He wasn’t just going to sit there and continue to make claims that he’d never been there for Ame.

Ame’s question suprised him, glancing towards his son. How had he known that? From the Akatsuki book, perhaps?

As for Kaia, she’s left with more questions, but keeps her mouth shut. For now. Unfortunately, Ame’s next question to Deidara seems to trigger something inside of him and she sees nothing but hate in his eyes as he glares at Itachi.

The raven haired man flinched at words, the blonde’s tone and start cutting through him like sharp kunai. It hurts. Especially because apart of Itachi agreed with Deidara. He didn’t deserve to be Ame’s father all he had done.

Kaia’s eyes narrow at her bother as she steps in. “Dei, that’s not fair-“ she begins.

“I’m sorry.” Her head snaps back towards Itachi, once again suprised by his words. He’s… apologizing?

“Even if Pain had been keen on adding you to the organization, I’m the one who forced you in.” Itachi says softly, eyes distant and somber. “Back then… I admit, I wasn’t in a good mood that day.” Being dragged out of bed by Kisame after he had just thrown up his guts wasn’t very pleasing.

“I hadn’t wanted to come along, and I didn’t want to force you. But I knew that if it wasn’t me, it would have been Sasori or Kisame. And you know full well what they’re capable of by now. So I stepped in before they got any ideas.” Sasori would have most likely poisoned Deidara, the sadistic bastard, and Kisame… well, he’d have rather the blonde come back to the hideout in one piece.

“However… I acknowledge that I was also crude in my methods. And I never apologized to you. So I say it now. I’m sorry.” The Uchiha concluded, obsidians glancing back up at the blonde.

Kaia clears her throat. “It’s fine, honey. I’m happy to help.” She casts Deidara a warning glance before getting to the matter at hand. Staying silent as mother and son talked.

Things seemed to be going well. Until of course, Deidara’s insistence that Itachi didn’t want Ame. She’s about to speak up, but then-

“That’s not true and you know it.” Itachi snaps, taking even himself off guard by how quickly and harshly it comes out. He takes a deep breath. Then continues.

“No one had any knowledge that you had gotten pregnant until it was too late. I wasn’t there because no one had any idea who the father was.” It was only until Ame had popped out that it become obviously clear.

“And before you even try to say that I didn’t come see him, I did. Konan let me see him. She let me hold him, she even offered me her room for the night so I could sleep next to him.” As he spoke, his chest started to swell a little at the realization of just exactly how much the only female member of the Akatsuki had done for him. She never had to do any of that, and yet she did.

Kaia’s eyes were slightly wide, looking between Itachi and her brother. She had no clue what was going on, but whatever it was, it seems her brother fibbed about that too.

“I know that time was really hard for you, but that doesn’t you the excuse to just blame everything on me. So don’t go lying to Ame about it.” The Uchiha concluded, sharply inhaling to get a grip on himself…

[underscorewriting]

Late Nights

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: fluff <3 hehe

1074 Words

It was hard. Everything was hard for her, but mostly seeing him in pain. It hurt her, it made her feel powerless. Every night she would feel him wake up, she barely could sleep herself.

Hearing his quiet sighs as he repositioned himself, trying to get the pain to stop. He would lie awake hours doing so. She would be awake too, quiet tears running down her face as she squeezed her eyes shut trying not to sob.

But tonight it was different, she had to rethink to the day, remembering how his bones cracked, how blue his eyes were and how cold it was. A suffocating sob escaped her as she turned away from his embrace, not wanting to wake him now that he was able to sleep.

Unfortunately she failed doing so. He felt her body rock with each sob that escaped her, his heart breaking with each sound that escaped her. "My love, what's wrong?" Sleep still very visible in his voice, his arm wrapping around her waist, as he gently kissed her shoulder, shushing her quietly, needing her to calm down.

Another sob escaped her, causing her to cover her mouth, feeling how wet her cheeks now were with tears. "Did someone hurt you?" She wouldn't answer him, so he turned her around quickly. "Answer me, princess. What is wrong?" His face was covered in worry, as he searched for her eyes, only to find them puffy and red. "I'm a bad wife..."

A soft chuckle escaped him as he shook his head. "You're not, my love. Why would you ever think something like that?" His hand wandering up to her cheek, wiping her tears away. A small frown now on his face as he watched the hurt on hers. "Yes I am, Ivar." Shaking her head she lowered her eyes looking down at his legs.

"I can't take your pain away." Her voice broke. "I can't help you with it, I can't do anything!" He could hear the hurt in her voice as he pulled her into his chest, letting her cry as much as she needed. "I never asked that of you when I wanted you to become my wife." He smiles slightly, hoping that would help to cheer her up but it only seemed to make it worse.

Pulling away she looked at him hurt. "I didn't marry you because you're the king, Ivar! I married you because I loved and cared for you, as I still do! Yes, you didn't ask me to help you or take the pain away, but I want to. I can't see you in pain, my king..." Her voice was shaky as he cupped her cheeks again, pulling her into a kiss.

"I apologize, my love. I didn't mean it that way. You shouldn't worry too much, I'm fine, aren't I? No broken bones, nothing you should worry about. The same cripple you married-" He chuckles softly but she placed her hand on his lips, making him stop in the middle of his sentence.

"Don't call yourself that. You know I hate when you do that..." She was starting to steady herself as she calmed down, inhaling his scent and feeling his arms around her. "I knew you were awake every time my legs hurt at night, I could feel it." He whispered quietly, pushing the hair out of her face. 

Smiling slightly she shook her head. "Then you must have known how much seeing you in pain hurts me." He looked at her confused. "I thought you were annoyed by me, because I woke you up." Chuckling quietly she kissed him softly. "I didn't want to bother you, while you were in pain..." She whispered against his lips, making him grin slightly. "You wouldn't have bothered me, you might've been able to keep my mind off of it."

Biting her lips slightly he smirked, feeling her relax into his touch. A soft sigh escaping her, as he kissed from her lips to her collarbone, being sure to leave love bites at every place he could, wanting and needing to show her off. "Ivar..." She whispered softly as she felt his hand pull her in closer.

Humming softly, he continued his work. Her fingers went into his hair, playing softly with it, realizing that she needed to redo them soon, since they were starting to grow. "I have to redo your braids soon, my love..." She whispered quietly, making him chuckle deeply against her neck. "Gods, you're unbelievable."

He leaned onto his arm as he admires her, taking in her beauty. "What? Why?" She chuckles softly as she felt herself begin to blush under his eyes. "I'm trying to seduce you and help you relax and all you think about is how you have to redo my hair." He exclaimed as he chuckled, making her laugh.

Ivar couldn't help but admire her, her laugh feeling like everything was okay, like everything he had ever done was worth it. "I'm sorry, couldn't help but feel it." Watching her Ivar shrug. "I'm not tired." Smiling she got up and lit a few candles as Ivar sat down by the bed, between her legs, handing her the comb.

Smiling slightly she kissed the top of his head before she got to work, brushing through his hair gently, being careful not to pull too hard. Feeling him relax under her touch made her smile like a fool. "My mother would've loved you, gods, even my father would've adored you." Ivar said closing his eyes.

A small smile now on her face as she pulled a braid slightly tighter. "I knew your father, Rangar taught me how to fight when I was little and wanted to be like.... Lagertha" A soft his escaped the man in front of her, she wasn't sure if it was because of the tightly pulled braid or due to the name of the woman that killed his mother. "I'm sorry, my love."

Finishing her last braid she kissed his head again. "All done." As she got comfortable on her side again, Ivar blew out the candles before pulling her into his chest. "I know you adored Lagertha, she was a brave woman even though I hated her I have to admit it."

Kissing her softly he whispered his love to her over and over again, making sure that after tonight she wouldn't cry anymore, he would be there to stop it.

[ptergwen]

fluffy make out sesh w petey? <3

call it even

w/c: 1,074

warnings: like two swears?

a/n: i don’t know why this ended up being so long but it did lmfhwjwhs i hope it’s everything u wanted and more :D

-

“god, how much time is left?” you complain, circling your index finger around peter’s chest.

peter refuses to expand his horizons beyond star wars, so you two are watching revenge of the sith yet again. you’re seated in his lap and doing everything you can to get his attention. it’s the only way you’ll be able to make it through the damn movie.

unfortunately for you, peter has a huge crush on anakin. that means his eyes are literally glued to the screen.

“we’re not even halfway through yet. get comfortable, babe,” peter smugly replies. he grabs your hips and squeezes, cocking his head to the side to see better. you tilt your own head so it’s blocking his line of vision. “i am comfortable… very. are you?” your voice drops an octave.

a smirk crossing his features, peter finally meets your eyes. “i know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not gonna work.” you gasp to feign innocence. “silly old me? what ever are you talking about, peter dearest?”

peter moves an arm so it’s around your lower back, you batting your lashes down at him. you yank on his flannel collar to keep him in place. he leans in closer to you until his lips brush the shell of your ear.

he’s all yours.

“i appreciate the effort. now, if you don’t mind…”

peter pulls away from you with a terrible wink that’s stupidly adorable, but you’re too annoyed to admit it.

you give up your facade, swapping it for whining and tugging on peter’s shirt. “no fair! all i want you to do is spend some time with me, petey.” gazing over your shoulder, you shoot the tv a death glare. “fuck george lucas.”

“woah, woah! don’t go that far!” peter defends, chuckling nevertheless. he does feel kind of bad because he has seen star wars more than anyone else on this earth. it wouldn’t kill him to focus on you for a bit.

although, he’d still like to finish the movie.

peter brings your body in closer to his, pecking your forehead softly. “let’s make a deal,” he prompts you. you eagerly nod and sit up straighter. “i’ll give you as many hugs and kisses as you’d like-“

“perfect! you and that big brain of yours, my smart boy.” puckering up, you go right in for a smooch. peter holds out a finger and presses it to your lips to stop you, beaming. “i’m not done,” he laughs out. “i’ll give you as many hugs and kisses as you’d like, after the movie is over.”

you scoff and shove both peter’s shoulders. “why can’t you just multitask? you’d be getting the best of both worlds!” peter does not consider it. “and risk missing the most intense lightsaber duel in cinematic history? i don’t think so.”

“whatever you say… loser,” you mutter under your breath. he coaxes you away from him, keeping his arms around your waist with a scowl. “do you want your kisses or not, y/n?” this time, your mouth stays shut. “exactly,” peter concludes. “new deal, i’ll level with you and cuddle for a while.”

he hugs you to his chest, chin resting lightly on your head. you instantly settle in his warm embrace and feel safe in his strong arms. this will do.

“love you, petey,” you mumble against the skin of his neck. smiling to himself, peter peeks back up at the tv. “love you too, angel. but, shhh,” he shushes, resuming his millionth star wars viewing.

just like that, you’ve been replaced by darth vader. you need to fix this, and fast.

it doesn’t take peter too long to lose himself in the movie, which plays out in your favor for once. he just mindlessly rocks you side to side while he watches. his obliviousness, more so than usual, gives you the opportunity to reach over on the cushion next to you and grab the remote.

bingo.

you swiftly hit the power button, hiding it behind your back and eliciting a yelp from peter.

“y/n, what the hell? we had a compromise!” peter demands and lunges forward for the remote. grinning wickedly, you tuck it into your back pocket before he can. “we also had a deal, remember? movie’s over,” you elaborate. “kiss me, loser.”

peter can’t argue with that logic.

“sneaky,” he compliments, his forehead leaned against yours. his fingertips ghost over your chin. “i’m so impressed, i can’t even be mad. you win.” giggling, you place your hands on peter’s shoulders to balance yourself in his lap. “well, you’re the prize.”

“ugh, i love you so much,” peter sighs. he kisses your bottom lip gently, holding your chin between two fingers. “more than star wars?” you search for his hazel eyes. “more than star wars… all three trilogies,” he murmurs a sentence you never thought you’d hear.

your eyelashes tickle peter’s face, both of you sharing matching smiles.

“in that case…”

you close the small gap separating you two with your lips on his. peter reciprocates in a heartbeat, his own quickened as he melts into the kiss. one of your hands weaves its way to some fluffy curls at the nape of his neck. he cups your cheek tenderly, free hand on your side and a grin spreading across his face.

“i love you, too,” you whisper, your legs straddling his waist. “could tell,” peter acknowledges in a breathy laugh.

he uses the new position to his advantage and flips you so you’re laying down on the couch. him on top, you under and your legs still around him. the next kiss is initiated by peter, so soft it fills your whole body with butterflies. he continues to caress your cheek while his lips dance expertly with yours.

“you taste good,” you rasp, peter kissing up to the tip of your nose. “like what?” he wonders and punctuates his question with another kiss to the bridge. you’re sitting back and enjoying every second. “i dunno, something sweet… vanilla?”

“oh, yeah. i might’ve stolen your chapstick,” peter admits, his cheeks starting to feel hot. amused, you pinch one of them. “i was wondering where that went. i should’ve known ‘cuz you always ask me about it.” he dips down so his forehead falls on yours once again. “buy you a new one?”

your fingers thread through his locks, willing him to look at you.

“just kiss me, and we’ll call it even.”

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

Aberration - Chapter 3

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Third chap, here we go! It’ll start picking up soon. I know there isn’t much ‘horror’ rn, but it will get there, I promise. Also, I’m sorry Tamaki’s part is a bit longer than Hawks. I just adore Tamaki so much and he deserves the world and lots of hugs and kithes.

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing. More to come.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

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Aberration Masterlist

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"Good afternoon Mr. Keigo, my name is Y/N and I'll-" You look up from your notes to see a half naked man with blonde hair and bright red bird wings lounging on his bed. Your jaw drops and you hold your clipboard up in front of your suddenly heated face.

Keigo looks over to you with his brows raised. "Well well, looks like we've got ourselves a new baby bird. How…" The handsome man's lips turn up into a cocky smirk.

"...interesting."

You peek over your clipboard to see his cocky smirk and hide your eyes again. "Keigo, would you please put on a shirt?"

He chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows. "What, too embarrassed to look at me, baby bird? I'll tell you what. You tell me who you are, and if you're single, and I'll cover myself."

"My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist in this facility, here to observe you, hoping it helps to find a cure. And there is no need for you to know my relationship status."

"Ah, ah, ah. If you don't tell me, you'll have to do this interview while gazing at my gorgeous body." You hear the cockiness in his voice.

"I swear to fu- fine, yes I'm currently happily single. Now, please put your shirt on." You mumble under your breath, "this is so inappropriate."

After a minute of rustling, Keigo leans back onto his bed. "Okay, my single baby bird. I'm all covered up for you."

You lower your clipboard just below your eyes to make sure, seeing the smirking bird man lounging on his bed with a shirt on. You finally lower your clipboard all the way before giving a curt nod. Making your way to the desk chair, you smile at the man.

"Thank you, Keigo. As I said before, my name is Y/N and I'm here to get to know you."

He snickers, "well, I'm here to answer any questions you have for me, baby bird. Fire away."

You sigh and open your notebook. "Must you call me such a name?"

"Awe, do you not like when I call you that?"

Sighing once more, you decide to just move on. You know you'll end up going in circles. "Please state your full name, age and date of birth for me."

"My name is Keigo Takami. I'm 28 years old. My birthday is December 28th." He paused to let you write that down before opening his mouth again. "Did you need my star sign and my relationship status? Well, I'm a Capricorn and I am definitely sin-"

"Nope, that's enough." You cut him off before he could ramble on even more. "Now, can you tell me what your quirk is exactly?"

Keigo blinks before turning around, the chains on his ankles clanking against the bed frame. Your eyes light up being able to actually see the giant, beautiful red bird wings coming from his back. You frowned slightly noticing they were pinned down, preventing him from being able to use them.

"Does that hurt? Having them pinned like that?" You tilt your head eyes following the edges of each feather.

Keigo lets out a quiet chuckle, eyeing you from over his shoulder. "A little. But nothing I can't handle. Why, is my baby bird worried about little ole me?"

Your frown turns into a glare and you clear your throat. "So, what exactly can you do with these wings of yours?"

Keigo's mouth twitches into a smirk as he turns back around to face you. "Well, I can fly. And I can also disconnect each feather from my wings and use them individually."

You nod, not wanting to show how impressed you were, knowing he'd make a crack at it. You finish writing down that information before asking your next question. "Now, can you tell me why you are here?"

"Getting down to the nitty-gritty, I see. Well, I was arrested and charged with Drug Trafficking, Forgery and Assault." You look at him, motioning him to continue. He shrugs. "There isn't much else to it. I'm a mafia leader. This shit happens on a daily basis, for years. Just so happened that I eventually got caught, on account of a leak in my group. Fortunately, for me, I use other people to do the killing for me. So that means they couldn't get me with murder." He cocks his head. "Unfortunately, though, trafficking and forgery are also felonies, so. That's why I'm here."

"So you spent your life moving copious amounts of drugs, forging money and assaulting clients who did you wrong?"

Keigo thinks about your words for a moment and nods. "Essentially, yes."

"Alright then." You stand up and bow your head to the mafia leader who was watching you carefully. "I will take my leave, as I have one more inmate to see before the end of my shift." You head towards the door, but pause for a moment. "Oh, and Keigo?" You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. "Your wings are beautiful."

Keigo's eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly, watching you walk out that door. His face turns bright red after processing your words. He mutters under his breath, "oh, baby bird…"

After shutting the door behind you, you breathe out. Aizawa looks up from his phone. "How'd it go?"

You raise a brow, "what, you weren't watching me through the security cameras like before?"

"Oh, I was," he deadpanned. "But, visually, it didn't look as compromising as the last two visits. The cameras don't pick up audio."

"Well, besides the lack of clothing in the beginning and the incessant flirting, I was pleasantly surprised."

Aizawa looked at his watch. "Now, I think we have time for one more before we have to turn in paperwork and unchain the more dangerous inmates from their beds to give them some room to stretch out." Aizawa flips through the profiles before stopping on one. "How about Amajiki?"

You turn to his profile and scan the words in front of you. "A cannibal, huh. Well that's not something you see every day."

"I think he'd be good to end the day with. Despite him being, well, a cannibal, he's actually extremely reserved and quite timid. I don't think he'd try to hurt you or get close to you. He suffers from borderline personality disorder, as you see." Aizawa looks up from his notes and eyes you. "However, he is a level 10. He may come across as innocent and somewhat angelic, but remember, he is one of the most dangerous criminals in this facility. He has multiple murders under his belt. So just keep that in mind."

You nod your head, slightly bouncing with excitement. This one sounds quite interesting to you. You've never met a cannibal before and this one has a quirk that sounds intriguing. Aizawa sighs before turning away from Hawk's door and heading further down the long hallway. He stops in front of a heavy door and scans you in.

Once you step inside the white room, you furrow your brows, not really noticing anyone. That's when you hear a small whimper and a few muffled, stuttered words coming from the floor next to the bed.

"W-Who are you?"

You lean to the side to see an indigo-haired figure huddled against the wall between the desk and the bed. You notice his body is trembling, only his eyes visible through his bangs, his arms covering the rest of his face. Head tilted, you squat down from a distance and smile.

"Hi there, Amajiki. My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist at this facility. I'm here to talk to you and get to know you to help further our findings for a cure. I'd like to be friends, if that's possible." You reply gently. You can tell he's scared out of his mind.

He raises his head up, giving you a full view of his…

Muzzle?

"F-friends?"

Your eyes widen slightly. The bottom half of Amajiki's face, from his nose to under his chin, is completely covered by a silver muzzle. It's strapped around his head and locked in place by a padlock. Your eyes travel down to see his wrists chained together with quirk cancelling cuffs and, as you expected, both of his ankles are chained to the heavy duty bed frame.

"They have you muzzled like that?" You stare in disbelief, slightly angered at the treatment. You understand that he's a known cannibal, but to strap that heavy muzzle around his head on top of chains already weighing him down.

Amajiki nods shyly, "y-yeah. I guess it's because of the whole e-eating people… thing."

You sit yourself down on the floor across from him, your notes in your lap. "Is it uncomfortable?" He nods slowly, his eyes avoiding yours. You give him a small smile. "I'm sorry."

His eyes shoot to yours, confusion flashing through them. "Why are you sorry?"

"It...seems like a lot of you are possibly being mistreated here. I've noticed a few things here and there."

Amajiki's brows furrow. "And why should you care? W-We're criminals."

"True. However, this facility isn't supposed to be judge, jury and executioner. You're entitled to a fair trial, just like everyone else. That includes not being mistreated." Your smile never leaves your face as you look the man in the eyes. "I am not only here to research a cure, but make sure in doing so, it won't harm any of you. It'll be humane, I promise." Amajiki just stares at you with an unreadable expression. You sigh and click your pen. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions, Amajiki?" He shakes his head but stays quiet.

"Can you please state your full name, age and date of birth?"

"U-um. Tamaki Amajiki, 25, March 4th."

"Thank you. And what is your quirk?"

Amajiki hugs his knees tighter. "I-It's called Manifestation. Essentially, whatever I eat and digest, I can manifest as a body part."

Your leg bounces in excitement. "So, if you were to eat, let's say, Takoyaki, you can turn your hand into tentacles?" He nods his head. Your eyes light up. "That is incredible, Amajiki. That's such a powerful quirk!"

Amajiki's eyes widened, a blush spreading across his cheeks that were partially hidden under his muzzle. This is the first time he's ever been thankful to have this thing attached to his face. "U-um, t-thanks."

You let out a soft giggle and continue writing in your notes. "Here's a little bit more of a difficult question, Amajiki. Can you please tell me why you are incarcerated in this facility?"

Amajiki stays quiet, not looking at you. You notice his hesitation. You think for a moment before looking around the room. Amajiki sneaks a glance at you, watching you look around the room. His brows furrow. "W-What are you…"

You finally spot the locations of the camera and move your body so your back was facing it. Ignoring his question, you place your pen down directly in front of you so only Amajiki can see. You furrow your brows in concentration and stick your tongue out as you hover your hand over your pen. To Amajiki's utter shock, the pen starts floating in the air.

"Y-You have a quirk?!"

You nod your head and release the pen from your power. "Yeah, I do. It's nothing fancy like yours, but it is a mutation, nonetheless. Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who understands more of your situation than you might think. So that's why I wanted to show you." You smile at the man, who is looking at you with pure adoration. "Please, keep this to yourself. I don't know what Aizawa would do if he found out about it." 

"I-I won't tell anyone, I promise."

You giggle and sit back down in your original spot. "Thank you. Now, can you please tell me why you're in this facility?"

He nods his head, still slightly dazed about this new-found information. "I was charged with multiple counts of 1st degree murder a-and…" his voice drops to a whisper, "s-serial cannibalism."

You couldn't help your interest in the subject and started rambling. "Would you be so kind as to explain how this came about? Did you grow up into a family of cannibals or-"

"NO!" He lashes out, causing you to flinch slightly. He winces as your reaction, not intending to scare you. "N-no. Nothing like that. It happened… against my will, so to say?" Amajiki sighs and rests his chin on his arms, not meeting your eyes. "I was one of the only kids in my small town to have been born with a mutation. My parents tried to hide it, tried to hide me. I don't know if it was from fear of people hurting me or fear of everyone judging them for having me."

He blinks a few times before continuing. "The town I lived in was small, a bad side to say the least. Lots of low-lifes and gangs running around. Well, long story short, someone found out about me and what my quirk was. They kidnapped me and…" He trails off. Suddenly, his eyes snapped to yours, an uncomfortable and intense feeling overwhelming you. "They forced me to eat another person, someone with a quirk. They wanted to see if I could turn their power into my own."

He cocks his head and lets out a cackle, still making eye contact with you. "Can you believe that?! It actually worked! So what did they do? They forced me to eat ANOTHER quirk user. They wanted to turn me into an ultimate weapon." Amajiki lets out a strange noise, sounding like a mixture between a guttural sob and a laugh. "Well, the joke was on them in the end. I ended up killing and eating them in the end and escaping. But after that point, something mutated further in my quirk. I couldn't stop craving human flesh." He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. "A-And that's why I'm here now."

Your eyes are wide and your breath is heavy. Something inside you feels a sense of panic, looking at the clearly broken man in front of you. It's so much information to take in, you stay quiet for awhile, your body on high alert. Amajiki notices how quiet you are and he opens his eyes. He notices a terrified look on your face and internally panics.

"W-Wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I-I'm not going to hurt you." He finally moves out from his huddled form and kneels instead, the sound of chains clinking together snapping you out of it. "I-I would n-never hurt you." He whispers the last part, hoping you wouldn't hear it.

You clear your throat after taking a few deep breaths. "T-Thank you for telling me this, Amajiki. It was really brave of you to relive those experiences." You look at him and notice the fear and concern in his face. Giving him a small smile, you close your notebook. "I'm fine, I promise." You stand up on shaky legs and bow your head. "I need to get going."

Amajiki quickly stands up, making you slightly flinch again, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. "Y-You're leaving already? Will I get to see you again?"

"You will. I'm an employee here now, so I'll be the one to check up on all the inmates and work on everyone's individual sessions." You turn your back and walk to the door. "I'll see you later, Amajiki."

The indigo-haired man watches you walk through his door, longing written across his face. The only thing running through his mind are thoughts of the pretty telekinesis that made his heart race.

Once out the door, Aizawa meets you in the hallway. "How'd it go with the man-eater?"

You scowl at the doctor. "Why do you say things like that? He has a name."

"He's a criminal, Y/N. They're all criminals. Shouldn't matter what we call them." He rolls his eyes. "Just come with me. We have to finish our paperwork before the end of the day."

You grumble under your breath but follow the tired-looking doctor to his office. "You also need to prepare yourself for tomorrow. You will be meeting Kaminari, Midoriya, Shinso, Bakugo, Todoroki, Dabi and Kai. And 5 out of the 7 are level 8 and above."

~~~

Taglist: @theblueslytherin @sterassion @somechick30003 @meena-in-a-nutshell @justtj-andnonumberspls @zombieonna @amajikiwife @yulifee @atexansadventureintokinkandlife @ep-ip-ha-ny @hcneymilkks @pastelmoonwitche @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @railmeddy @unlimitedfirepheonix @confaegion @drownedbytears @burntcrips @megumitodoroki @the-lady-writes-what @awkward-confused @themotherofmoons @ihaveakoreanseoul @1-800-multifandomness @dabis-s-whore @tragically-here @andyronii @sunnnyshark @henhouse-horrors @maggiecc @tspice283 @orenjineki @aaannabbanana @letskidaddle @yzviea @jjk-is-my-shit  @iwachanslove

[If your name is bolded, I wasn’t able to tag you]

[xoxo-teddybear]

Chaotic Family Tingz - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader ft. Older brother L/N Ryu and Younger brother L/N Itazura

Warnings: Cursing, Crack, Fluff, Tatted Bakugou bc ✨SPICE✨

Summary: You have a very….special family. You were nervous to not only bring your Tatted, motorcycle riding boyfriend to your home but also to show your very loving boyfriend your insane family. Unfortunately, the truth cannot be hidden for long. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, Bakugou, he learned the truth in a very L/N family way.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: Heavily inspired by Good Luck Charlie. ALSO, I wrote this more based around Y/N and her life but Katsuki plays part in it. I still think it’s good bc imagine Bakugou being in this situation 😆🤣

You and Bakugou Katsuki have been dating for a year. You fell in love with the Bakugou Katsuki.

He who had a sleeve full of tattoos, who wore black combat boots and chains, who rode slick black motorcycles yet was a total softie when it came to you

Even though you had been dating for over a year, you didn’t bring him home for multiple reasons

1. You wanted to be sure he was the one before he met your crazy family, 2. You didn’t want him to meet your crazy family

Notice how we keep saying crazy?

Eventually, Bakugou got tired of waiting. He wanted you to be comfortable but he also wanted to know you loved him enough to think he was the guy you would want to bring home to meet your family

Meeting the parents and meeting the family is a big step and shows that you really want him as part of your life. It would mean a whole lot to him

And when he requested to meet your family and you shut it down again, he began to question you

“Do you not want me to meet them because…of me? Do you not want them to meet me?”

You looked at your boyfriend with a sad look as he stared at you like a kicked puppy

“Baby, no. Of course I want my family to meet you.”

“Then why haven’t they?”

“….Because I don’t want you to meet them.”

“What?”

“Suki! They’re insane! I’m just- *sigh.* What if their craziness drives you away from me?”

Bakugou laughed at you in disbelief. Leave you? Like hell he would. Bakugou’s done a whole lot in his life and you are the one thing he got right.

“Yeah no. Sorry princess but you’re stuck with me for life. I’m not going anywhere.” When he said that, he kissed your knuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips which convinced you to let him meet your insane family

He celebrated right in front of you

Anyway, what you need to know is that you’re family is….crazy crazy. Crazy as in things are never boring in your house because things are always happening

(Mind you, the actions below happened before you said yes to letting Katsuki meet your family)

Now back to what we were saying

Bad things happen a lot. Things like your little 11 year old brother, Itazura, always getting into trouble at school. In fact, this time he got into so much trouble that his teacher called for a parent teacher meeting

Not wanting to get in trouble at home, Itazura had you and your brother pretend to be his parents and go to the meeting

Now you said no in the beginning, but he blackmailed you by threatening to tell your parents you broke their priceless-antique wedding china and so you had to give in

It didn’t take much convincing for your older brother, Ryu, to join in on Itazura’s plan. Ryu was a very….simple person.

“You’re just gonna give in like that?” You asked him

“I mean, in the end it just saves time.” He said, referring to how Itazura will always find a way to get what he wants

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

And so, you and Ryu posed as Itazura’s parents. You dressed in your mom’s work clothes while Ryu dressed in a suit and put on a fake mustache for gags

You both presented yourselves along with Itazura to his teacher, who can barely see straight, and the plan went on perfectly. You guys got away with it!

That was until Itazura’s teacher, who was named Mrs. Iko, saw you at the movies on a date with Katsuki

And this is where it all goes down. Take a seat my bitches, and bros, and non-binary hoes cuz shits about to get real

(Shoutout to you if you get the reference ;)

—

*Ding Dong*

Your brother was sitting on the couch with his boyfriend when all of a sudden the doorbell rang, catching Ryu’s attention.

Opening the door, Ryu was met with the sight of Mrs. Iko. She took notice of his younger clothes, appearance, and mustache-less face. “Mrs. Iko? What’re you doing here?”

“Mr. L/N!” Mrs. Iko said with a shocked face and hand over her mouth. “You look so much younger! And your mustache has disappeared!”

Ryu grew visibly nervous at her words and gulped before letting out a shaky laugh. “O-Oh! Right! Yes, Uh- yes I’ve always been known for my Uh- youthful looks! And I just recently shaved- wanted a new look, you know?”

“Oh, well that doesn’t matter. I’m afraid I have some awful news.” Mrs. Iko said with a worried face as Ryu listened. “It’s about your wife.”

At that, Ryu’s longtime boyfriend, Daisuke, stood and walked towards the two. “Your wife? You have a wife?”

“No.” Ryu said.

“You don’t?” Mrs. Iko asked.

“Of course I do!” Ryu said, turning to her. Mrs. Iko looked around as if everyone in the house was crazy (they were) before speaking.

“Who are you?” She asked Daisuke.

“I’m his boyfriend.” He said. At that moment, you walked into the house holding Katsuki’s hand, ready to introduce him to your family, totally unprepared for what was about to go down.

“Hey guys! We’re back from the- GAH!” You said, yelping once you saw Mrs. Iko in the house. Mrs. Iko looked at you and Katsuki in shock as she pointed to you both.

“And here she is with her boyfriend!” Mrs. Iko exclaimed. Ryu felt pressured to play along and tried to save Itazura’s secret by keeping the husband act going.

“You’re cheating on me?!” Ryu said to you. “You’re a married woman!”

“You’re married?!” Bakugou asked you with an angry and hurt voice.

“No! No, no, no, no.” You said with a nervous laugh, trying to reassure him.

“You’re not?” Mrs. Iko asked.

“Of course I am!” You said, snapping your head to her. At that moment, Itazura walked in from the kitchen, but once he saw Mrs. Iko, he quickly turned back to go to the kitchen once more with a shocked expression.

“Geeeh!” He exclaimed before turning around, unfortunately caught by you.

“Uh- ITAZURA!” You shouted from the door as Bakugou held you close by the waist as a way of claiming his territory just in case things were in trouble for the two of you. Don’t worry, they weren’t. He believed you when you said you weren’t married but he’s starting to notice the weird shit that goes down in this house.

Itazura then came back, slowly poking his head in from behind the door as he stepped out. “Yes, Mother?”

Hearing you referred to that, Bakugou’s eyes popped before looking down at you. “Okay! I’m starting to see why you didn’t want me to meet your family.”

You nodded your head in a very ‘yeah…sadly,’ type of way.

“Uh- Itazura,” you said, walking towards your little brother. “Mrs. Iko has found out that your father and I are having problems.” You said in a ‘help us out of this you evil mastermind,’ type of way.

“Uhhh..and does she know that you guys are the reason I misbehave?” Itazura said, loud enough for Mrs. Iko to hear, hoping she would.

“Oh, I do now!” Mrs. Iko said sympathetically. Itazura came in like the evil mastermind he is and pulled out his fake tears.

“Well, maybe some good can come from all this pain,” he said with his fake tears and pouty lip towards his teacher. You faked a laugh before whispering to your younger brother.

“Hehehe…dial it down.” You said to him before turning to his teacher. “Um, Mrs. Iko, if you’ll excuse us, this family has some healing to do.”

“Which! I would like to do with just my parents and their apparent significant others,” Itazura said pointing to Daisuke and Katsuki.

“Welp! You should be on your way! Stay warm now!” Ryu said, beginning to escort Mrs. Iko out the front door by her shoulders. “Don’t wanna freeze off your toes!”

Unfortunately, right before the two reached the door, your actual parents came in. At the sight of them, you and your siblings flinched, sighed, and groaned before facing them. Luckily, Itazura came in once again to try and save the day in his lying ways.

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Itazura said going in to hug his actual parents to play his part. Your parents looked down to your brother in confusion and suspicion, well aware that your brother can get into some mischievous trouble.

“What’s going on?!” Your mom said, shaking off your brother’s hug.

“I’m Itazura’s teacher, I came to talk to his parents.” Mrs. Iko said introducing herself and gesturing to you and Ryu, to which the two of you scrunched your faces at being caught.

“We’re his parents.” Your dad said, gesturing to your mom and him. Mrs. Iko grew a face of utter shock before Itazura opened his mouth again.

“Hahaha, that’s right grandpa! You’re my dad!” Itazura said before whispering to Mrs. Iko. “He thinks he’s the president too.”

Your mom looked unimpressed at your brother’s lie until she caught sight of Bakugou in his white v-neck tee, and his big beefy arms covered in tattoos, holding his green bomber jacket, wearing his black ripped jeans and black combat boots. “Who are you?”

“Hey, I’m Bakugou Katsuki.” Your boyfriend said, waving with his gentler voice. Your dad looked outside and pointed to the foreign vehicle in their driveway before turning to Katsuki.

“Is that your motorcycle?” Your dad asked, making you nervous before you jumped to stand next to Katsuki to defend him.

“Um, yeah, about that-“

“I love motorcycles!” Your dad exclaimed with a smile.

“We’re dating!” You proudly said with a bright grin as you wrapped your arms around Katsuki’s as he looked down to you with a loving smile, loving when he heard you say those words to other people.

“Will you stop throwing that in my face?!” Ryu said, still playing his act.

“We’re not doing that anymore.” You blankly said to him with a dead stare.

“Great! Because I was getting a bit confused,” Ryu said and wrapped his arm around Daisuke’s waist.

And on that night, Mrs. Iko left, just as confused as Ryu.

—

“Alright,” your mom began, beginning to speak to you, your siblings, Daisuke, and Katsuki. “You, you, you, you, and you, sit. Now.”

“Uh, sorry,” your boyfriend said, “but I’m not your child. I don’t think you can tell me what to-“

“Did. I. Stutter?” Your mother asked with her devil eyes. Your gentler father stood behind her with a pleading look to your boyfriend to try and convince him to save himself. Katsuki felt his heart shake in fear at your mother’s tone and he opened his mouth to speak before closing it and taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“Mama Bear?” He asked you, referring to your mother.

“Mama Bear.” You confirmed. Bakugou nodded his head before relaxing into the couch.

“Okay. Now somebody tell me what’s going on.” Your mom demanded. You and Ryu remained quiet while your boyfriends sat in confusion. You all looked to Itazura who sighed before giving in.

“Okay, fine. I was getting in trouble at school and it got to the point where I had to have a parent teacher meeting. I didn’t want to get in trouble at home so I blackmailed Y/N and Ryu into being my parents so I could get away with it.” Itazura then explained.

“I guess somewhere along the line, Mrs. Iko caught me and Katsuki together so I guess she came here to tell Ryu, who she thought was my husband, that I was having an affair.” You then explained. Ryu was just sitting on the couch with his arm still around Daisuke before he raised his hand.

Your mother sighed at her oldest child being so..childish. “Yes, Ryu?”

“Uh- no I was just wondering if I could put on the fake mustache again.” He stupidly said with a genuine heart. You and your younger brother sighed in disappointment at his idiocy before turning to your parents.

“So? Are you going to punish us?” You asked your mom. She smiled at you sweetly before taking a seat in front of you on the coffee table.

“Oh, sweetie…..of course we’re going to punish you.” She said while placing a hand on your knee. She then stood to hand out her dealings. “Itazura, no video games, no sleepovers, no tv. Ryu, Y/N - no phones, no tv, no going anywhere after school. All of you, grounded. 2 weeks. We’re letting you keep your laptops for school work so if you need to communicate, use those. Am I clear?”

You and your siblings all nodded before your mother sighed and addressed the last thing. “Now finally, what did you say your name was, sweetie?”

“Oh! Uh, Bakugou Katsuki.” Your boyfriend said. Your mother smiled at him kindly before dropping that smile and giving him a look.

“Age?”

“18.”

“Grades?”

“Straight A’s.”

“School?”

“U.A.”

“Tattoos and Piercings. Why?”

“Most of them are to honor the people in my life.”

“Motorcycle. Why?”

“It was a gift I decided to not let go to waste.”

“Are you an asshole?”

“Only to idiots.”

“Why my daughter?”

“Because when she smiles everything in the world instantly makes sense to me.”

His last answer made you smile at him in awe as you scooted in closer. It also made your parents smile before your mom reached over to place a hand on his arm. “Welcome to the family, Bakugou.”

—

“So that’s your family, huh?” Bakugou asked as you both sat in your backyard on the hammock looking at the starry sky.

“Heh, yeah. A bunch of clowns.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm held you close.

“I don’t think so. They seem fun.” Bakugou said, trying to uplift your spirits.

“Fun. Crazy. Same shit I guess.” You said causing you both to laugh. Katsuki sighed in gratitude at finally getting to meet your family and allowed his head to drop on your own. “Umm..you’re not gonna leave me though..right?”

“Never.” He said with a small laugh and kiss to the crown of your head. “Like I said, you’re stuck with me. Besides. I now know if I’m ever bored, your family will always be around. S’like free entertainment.” He said making you giggle. “Plus, Itazura doesn’t seem so bad. I don’t know, might wanna pull a few pranks on him just to teach him a lesson.”

“Aww, baby.” You said kissing his cheek. “No you don’t, it’ll backfire on you and he’ll set your ass on fire. Doesn’t matter if you’re 5 years older than him.”

Bakugou widened his eyes in offense before chuckling and cuddling in closer as you both swung on the hammock. That was when you raised your head to look at him. “So…when can I meet your parents?”

Bakugou’s eyes once again popped as he thought about his timid father who was a doormat to his demonic mother. “Uh…I don’t know..They’re kinda…insane.”

Here we go again.

Taglist: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight @lanantoine @whatdidshesayyy @qtsuki @lazyafgurl @dessykcm @misssugarless @unicornlover25 @sweethcnvy @hanamura-manami @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @ssurewhynottt

[fawnhoards]

A collection of dialogue from Rick Yancey’s The Isle of Blood. To be used as sentence starters. As per usual, feel free to change pronouns or whatever you see fit. Mentions / implications of death, murder, violence, alcohol.

“ I guess you know what I’m going to ask next. ”

“ I never said I had all the answers. ”

“ I don’t know what I want anymore. ”

“ It would make quite a tale, if someone were to tell it. ”

“ It is the nature of my profession, to labor in obscurity. ”

“ Absolutely not. Do you understand? ”

“ You know very well the answer to that question. ”

“ The entire idea was yours to begin with. ”

“ I cannot answer that question, for I have no idea what you’re talking about. ”

“ I suspect we’re in for a long night. ”

“ Well, I will confess I didn’t know what to think. ”

“ Who has more power now — me or God? ”

“ I beg you to hold your questions for now; I’m trying to think. ”

“ I will gladly release you when I am satisfied that neither of us is in danger. ”

“ You are a witness to history! ”

“ I don’t want to die. Please. Please don’t let me die. ”

“ It may be worth a try. ”

“ It is not your debt; you should not have to pay. ”

“ Please, do not leave me. I would not survive it. ”

“ You are the one thing that keeps me human. ”

“ Yes, it's healing up quite nicely. ”

“ Just because a man is a homicidal maniac doesn’t make him wrong. ”

“ It is an unfortunate habit of mine to say things that probably shouldn’t be said. ”

“ It is not your place to worry about me. ”

“ Perhaps we should turn back and go home. ”

“ I cannot help but feel we’ve known each other for years. ”

“ Do you lie because you’re ashamed, or do you lie because you think it’s funny? ”

“ I lie because the truth is painful. ”

“ I do not like children. ”

“ Do you enjoy being mean, or is it something you can’t help? ”

“ A bit of whiskey would be nice, if you have it. ”

“ If I tell you that, I’m a dead man. ”

“ It is called a griffin. This one is only a baby. ”

“ I’m curious to see what happens. ”

“ I will not force you to stay. I am asking you to stay. ”

“ Lead, and we shall follow! ”

“ I must confess to you that I am quite the ardent admirer of your writing. ”

“ It is delicate; I hope you can understand. ”

“ We avoid murder if we can help it. ”

“ I can save us both, but you must go along with everything I say. ”

“ I suppose you could say I am in a bit of trouble. ”

“ If they let you go before, why do they want to kill you now? ”

“ I would flee from it, but it is a part of me, and so where might I run? ”

“ I don’t want you to kill them. ”

“ You don't want me to kill them? ”

“ We will be vigilant and hope for the best. ”

“ Some tea would be wonderful. ”

“ I must tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you. ”

“ Come. It will be worth the trip. I promise. ”

“ You see? You worried for nothing. ”

“ It appears to be deserted. ”

“ Perhaps I should carry you across my shoulders like a shepherd his lamb. ”

“ I think there may be a storm coming. ”

“ I didn’t want you to be... disappointed in me. ”

“ I will protect him with my life. ”

“ Hope is not stupid. Faith is not stupid. ”

“ You’re a dead man on a fool’s errand. ”

“ It’s your fault — all of it! ”

“ Play to his ego, which by all accounts is considerably large and substantially playable. ”

“ I need someone who can be trusted to keep his mouth shut and who isn’t afraid of a little risk. ”

“ Why is it that at the precise moment when I begin to think you might actually have a head on your shoulders, you say something like that? ”