#anti socialism (sorta)

[ch3rr13zk1n]

I love the smell...

OF COINS.

[rotting-creation]

friendly reminder that not only did communism and socialism not work, but it is also INCREDIBLY insensitive to many people in countries that are/were communist and had to ESCAPE, not emigrate but ESCAPE the country so that they had better lives.

sure, capitalism is also shit and I wish that we could live in a society where everyone was equal and no one was filthy rich.

and not the 1% btw, the one percent isnt actually fully rich. 1% of people is still in the millions to ten millions, these are usually higher middle class/working class people. for context, according to this, 0.5% of adults in the united states identify as trans, while 1.4% of young people identify as trans. And we know, as a society, that there are MILLIONS of trans people, so if trans people are only in the lower percentages, then maybe the one percent isnt as small as you'd think. The real, filthy rich people are in the 0.0001% of the population. and that number is so small it's often harder to tax. The problem is that these people earn more than the entire rest of the population.

The problem with communism and socialism? you are putting everything into the hands of the government. Communism is a dictatorship. And in most countries with dictatorships, they're not only never truly evenly spreading money, rather distributing most to a select few and leaving almost all of the rest poor; but as it's a dictatorship, most of the time (if not all) they ban things like religion - ALL religions, not just judaism, islam, sikhism, paganism or other religions, but also religions like catholicism, and all versions of christianism. not to mention homosexuality, being trans, alternative, as well as A LOT of media censorship. People in countries like that often get KILLED for saying anything against the government. Communism isn't your gay little perfect society fantasy that you want it to be, it's just as much if not even more of a dystopian hellscape.

please PLEASE look into what happens/happened in countries that are/were communist. And please, consider why so many people in these countries struggle/struggled, why so many die/died, why so many starve/starved. There is a reason it doesn't work. Be considerate of the survivors and sufferers. The people that push this want you to believe that it'd be a perfect little life, nothing ot worry about because it's what everyone wants. Everyone wants a perfect little life to enjoy. That is propaganda, do not listen. Any time someone says they have something to make society 'perfect' they are usually wrong, there will always be problems in society. We can only do our best to make these problems less prevalent, but problems can never be fully eliminated.

I am not, however, saying that we should go into a fully capitalist society either. We can also very clearly see how that's going wrong, with the lack of healthcare in the USA and things like that.

(Side note from a brit, wtf USA? everytime we hear about how you guys have it and how normal it is i just think like wtf, that's normal? like sure the NHS is being fucked over, but at least we have some form of healthcare. you guys are really living in a dystopian nightmare, not just healthcare but everything else as well.)

in my opinion, the true solution is a mix of the two, mix the parts that work to eliminate the parts that don't. Tax the mega rich more. Bezos and musk and all those people do NOT deserve as much money as they have. take those taxes and give the poor free healthcare, housing and basic necessities, better and cheaper education for everyone. Sure in these societies you'll still have the rich, but the rich will be less rich and the poor less poor. You have a more even playing field, which helps to also break the cycle of poverty. Just look a bit at germany or even the UK, yes we have our own societal problems, but the USA is just SO much worse in comparison. I am also fully willing to civilly discuss these opinions, also if anything isn't clear or you want me to go more into depth, I am also very willing to/

(side note, your opinions should ALWAYS be changing, they're formed by facts. Learning new facts should make you either just add another building block to the building, or if it doesn't really fit, maybe re-evaluate your building and find a new place for the block to go. Or just throw it in there and acknowledge that your building has it's faults and problems. You can't just chuck a block to the side and claim that your foundations are the sturdiest when they are so obsolete that they are almost crumbling to dust.)

But when you're living in a society where if you're puking your guts out, you just deal with it and hope you don't die because the hospital bills are gonna leave you in eternal debt; a country where just getting an education puts you in life debt, i'm not too surprised that people are craving radical change. That they look for any way out.

also fun fact, finland was just GIVING the homeless houses, and guess what? when people don't have to worry about their next meal, if they're gonna live through the winter, they can finally start worrying about working and build a happier and better life. SUCH a big shock /s

[the-rad1o-demon]

[Image ID (sorta, basically just the text from it):

GET KOSA TRENDING.

STOP SCROLLING NOW!

AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. OR DOOMSDAY. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.

WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.

I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.

Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.

Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.

Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.

Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.

Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.

Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.

END image ID]

Hey, everyone. So yeah, this is happening. We're still fighting this battle. And we can't give up now. We can't. We can't stand idly by while one of the most important resources that helped us all wake up, or at least start to question things, is being threatened by the government.

We can't stand idly by when kids, teens, and adults just like us still trapped inside might lose access to the resource that could help them wake up. We can't stand idly by when they might lose access to their non JW friends and family. We CAN'T stand idly by when we can do something to stop this bill from passing.

I am sick and tired of this same old song, where conservative fuckers higher up think they can oppress everyone. I am FUCKING SICK of it.

Please, reblog both this post and the original post linked above what I've written, and do what you can to stop KOSA, please. We are running out of time.

I suggest that if it is within your power to do so, that you do more than simply reblog and assume someone else will do something. DON'T assume that. Please do more than just reblogging if you are able to, because that's not really enough at this point.

Call/email representatives in the House and tell them to oppose KOSA (you may want to list different reasons depending on who you're calling, some House representatives are anti-LGBTQ+, so it may be best to tell them to oppose because it violates people's privacy, safety, and anonymity online). Print posters and put them up where legal if you can.

Sharing all this information to other social media sites (Instagram, Reddit, TikTok, the bird app) to reach more people can really help too. The wider the reach, the better.

Thank you. Now let's fucking rip that bill apart like we rip apart Watchtower magazines and eat it for fucking breakfast. (In a "we're eating it and the politicians who are sponsoring it are looking on in horror" kind of way)

[pebbles-scatter]

got on here the other day bc my friend (finally) got tumblr after being encouraged (told to) bc twitters going down the shitter and i realized my queue ran out a few days previous. so now is a good a time as any to fill it back up

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 5/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [in this chapter: slight dubcon/cnc (?), virginity loss, riding, switch! toji, sort of dom!reader, pussy drunk toji, kind of wholesome, whole lot of yapping], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: two chapters a day, who is this diva !!? nah i had this around and i could not help but post it today. it will either mean you all binge read it, or you all completely forget that either chapter has been posted. curse this damn algo! or maybe i am just overenthusiastically posting. but gaaahhhh!! can't believe we are at the end </3 !! thank you thank you THANK YOU !! for the love, i'm so beyond grateful. thank you for letting va toji and smut writer reader in your dashboards and following them along on their stupid meet-cute journey <3 and, please don't be mad about the epilogue, i SWEAR megumi is not like other guys [he is just like his dad...]. also, if you're confused about the ending, PLEASE!! read persephone. it's not as emotional and funny as this one, but...read it so that you could make sense of the plot? IDKKK. or don't i think it's pretty self-explanatory. but in all honesty, the freaky scene was really difficult to write in this chapter, and i really apologise if it seems..."anti-climatic" or a "letdown" or "not smutty enough" :") it's a lot more yapping and emotion based, not something i do often but i sorta liked writing it? i don't know, sometimes you should take a break from the dirty talk and just talk to yourself...eugh what am i saying, anyways! please, enjoy. and let me know how you liked this - comments, reblogs - i'm spying on them all  

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

your phone buzzes quietly on the nightstand, and you reach over, still half-buried in blankets, to check the message. toji grumbles beside you, wrapping an arm lazily around your waist, pulling you right back to him. “don’t even think about leaving this bed,” he mumbles against your shoulder, voice rough with sleep.

you squint at your screen, smiling as shoko’s name lights up with a string of texts.

shoko: mission successful. megumi has been delivered to the institution of learning. shoko: also, fyi, we're stealing the limo for the dayshoko: and no, we won’t be back until we’re legally obligated. don’t worry, we’ll keep gojo under control… mostly shoko: enjoy your alone time, lovebirds 😘

you chuckle, typing back a quick reply.

you: thank you, dearest shoko. keep gojo from being arrested plz 😭 you: we really do appreciate it, but just know i have zero faith in ur ability to contain gojo, lol shoko: fair enough, neither do i

toji tightens his hold around you, grumbling, “what’s so funny? thought you were all mine this morning.”

you turn, placing your phone on the nightstand as you nestle back against him. “just shoko. apparently, she, gojo, and geto did drop megumi off at school. in the limo.”

toji lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “bet those teachers are loving that.”

“oh, absolutely. i’m sure gojo made it a whole production, too.” you laugh, imagining the scene — a horrified teacher watching the three self-proclaimed “cool” adults proudly unloading an amused, completely willing megumi from the limo like he’s some kind of celebrity.

toji’s hand slides up your back, sending a warm shiver down your spine. “good,” he murmurs, a lazy smirk on his face. “means we’ve got all day.”

you bite back a grin. “is that so, mr. fushiguro?”

“damn right, mrs. fushiguro,” he whispers, and there’s that flutter in your chest again. 

mrs. fushiguro — it’s still so new, so surreal. you lean into his touch, feeling that warmth radiate from him, that steady presence that’s been with you for so long, but now, somehow, feels even closer.

“god, that sounds… i don’t know. just amazing,” you murmur, voice almost shy. “it’s crazy how much changes when we’re just… us.”

he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead, and it’s so soft, so tender, it’s enough to make your heart do another flip. 

“yeah? feelin’ all mushy on me now, are ya?” he teases, smirking down at you, but his voice is so soft, so genuine.

“maybe i am,” you admit, tracing small circles on his chest with your finger. “just… thinking about how lucky i am. how lucky we are. you… me… and megumi.” the last part brings a smile to your lips, the idea of the three of you, a real family, settled and safe and happy.

toji’s eyes soften, and he leans in to kiss you, slow and warm. “trust me, i’m the lucky one,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to cradle your face as he gazes at you. “i’ve got you, i’ve got ‘gumi… i got everything i need right here.”

you look away for a second, laughing softly to hide how much his words make your heart ache in the best way. “if anyone heard you right now, they’d never believe the tough guy act you put on.”

“hey, don’t go spreading rumors,” he warns, but his smile gives him away. “only you get to see me like this.” his fingers stroke along your cheek as he adds, “my best side.”

you look up at him, a rush of affection filling your chest so full you feel it might burst. “i just… i feel like the luckiest person alive. like… what did i do to end up here with you?”

“you didn’t have to do anything, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “just had to be you.”

you both settle into a comfortable silence, his hand finding yours under the covers, fingers interlacing. there’s something so perfect, so still about this moment — just lying together, his thumb brushing idly over your knuckles. the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart — it’s like every worry, every noise from the world fades away, leaving just the two of you cocooned here in the quiet, the morning sun filtering softly through the curtains.

you close your eyes, sighing contentedly. “i could stay like this forever, you know.”

he chuckles, pulling you closer. “good. ‘cause i’m not lettin’ you go anywhere.”

you’re just basking in the warm silence, feeling utterly at peace, when toji leans in, his voice low and smooth in your ear. "so, mrs. fushiguro,” he drawls, a smirk creeping onto his lips, “wasn’t there talk of a… private reading of that dragon king sequel?”

oh, no. 

oh, no. 

you blink at him, trying to keep a straight face. 

this man is absolutely trying to get in your pants with literature. 

who does that? well, toji does, apparently. and damn him for knowing you’d promised him a private reading of that particular book launch. a foolish vow you made months ago, when you didn’t think he’d actually remember. 

but, of course, he remembers everything.

“i… um,” you stammer, your cheeks heating. “that was — okay, that was months ago, toji. i didn’t think you’d actually —”

“you didn’t think i’d remember?” he grins, and it’s the kind of grin that tells you you’re not getting out of this. “i remember everything, sweetheart. especially when it involves… let’s say, romantic storytelling?”

romantic storytelling, huh? right. 

sure. that’s one way to put it.

“toji, it’s not just, you know, romantic storytelling,” you mutter, cheeks warming even more. “i mean, it’s got… dragons. and quests. and —”

“oh, i remember chapter twenty just fine,” he cuts in, that cheeky smirk now completely in control of the situation. he leans closer, his face inches from yours, all smug and mischievous. 

“you know, the one where the dragon king finds his queen and… gives her a real good ‘welcome’?”

your mouth goes dry. 

this absolute menace. he’s got the audacity to remember chapter twenty?

“oh, you mean the ‘epic battle scene,’ right?” you try, feigning innocence. “where they’re fighting for the fate of the kingdom, and it’s super dramatic, lots of… explosions, you know?”

he laughs, low and deep, and god, it’s unfair how sexy he makes laughing sound. “sure, if you’re talking about the fireworks when the dragon king finally, you know…” he raises an eyebrow. 

“claims his queen.”

you are done for. 

“toji —” you start, but he’s already pushing himself up, reaching over to grab a copy of your book from the nightstand. you mentally curse past you for being sentimental enough to keep a copy so close by.

“here we go,” he says, flipping through the pages, and damn it, he’s really going for it. “right to chapter twenty. ah… here. listen to this, babe.” he clears his throat dramatically, as if he’s about to perform the damn shakespearean sonnet of the year. 

“the dragon king leaned in, his voice a whisper like embers in the dark, promising the queen his undying loyalty, his soul, his fire —”

“toji,” you hiss, trying not to laugh because this is utterly ridiculous. but also kind of the most endearing thing he’s ever done.

“— and his lips claimed hers with the kind of passion only a dragon king possessed,” he continues, absolutely deadpan. 

his eyes flicker up to yours, and the next thing you know, he’s leaning in, his mouth soft against yours, playful, slow. “see?” he murmurs against your lips, teasing. “it’s right there in the text.”

you barely hold back a giggle. “toji fushiguro, you are not… using my own book to seduce me.”

he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth. “oh, sweetheart. i absolutely am. and i’m pretty sure you’re enjoying it, too.” his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer, and damn it, you are enjoying this.

“this is absurd,” you mutter, though your words lose their conviction as he trails kisses down your neck, each one soft and teasing. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculous,” he murmurs between kisses, “for my beautiful wife who writes… excellent dragon king romances? definitely.” he pauses, looking up at you with that glint in his eyes that you know spells trouble. 

“and don’t act like you don’t find it hot, mrs. fushiguro. we both know that’s a lie.”

you groan, flopping back against the pillows. “why did i write chapter twenty like that? i’ve doomed myself.”

he raises an eyebrow, that smirk even more devilish. “hey, i’m just a fan, enjoying a private reading,” he says, leaning back in to brush his lips against yours, soft and gentle at first, but deepening, his hand cupping your cheek in that way that drives you crazy. 

“go on,” he whispers, voice low, “read for me.”

your heart’s pounding now, every nerve in your body alive with the feel of him so close, his eyes warm and mischievous and so damn loving. 

you swallow, taking a steadying breath, and somehow, miraculously, you manage to open the book and start reading in a low, slightly shaky voice.

“the dragon king wrapped his arms around her,” you read, feeling your voice hitch as toji’s fingers trace little patterns along your arm, sending shivers through you, “his breath warm against her ear, promising her… his devotion. his soul. his fire.”

“mmm,” toji murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “keep going. this is getting good.”

you continue, barely able to concentrate because he’s absolutely enjoying every second of this. 

“and as his lips met hers, it was like… like an explosion of heat, consuming them both in a moment so intense it could… melt worlds.” you swallow, feeling his hand slide around your waist, his face close to yours, his gaze dark with desire.

“you know, i think your writing really captures the, uh, tension here,” he teases, his voice a rough whisper against your ear.

“you’re impossible,” you say, laughing despite yourself as he pulls you back down onto the bed, his kisses now less playful, more earnest, his hand finding yours, fingers interlacing like they belong there.

“impossibly in love with my talented, beautiful wife,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips soft and warm. “the one who just happens to write the best damn dragon romances out there.”

you let out a breathless laugh, burying your face in his shoulder. “if my readers could see this right now, they’d probably riot.”

he chuckles, pulling you close, his hand running through your hair. “well, they don’t get this version of you. that’s all mine.”

you look up at him, heart swelling with so much love you feel you might burst. “yeah?” you murmur, feeling your voice go soft, your hand reaching up to trace his jawline.

“yeah,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes you forget the whole world, until there’s just him, just you, just the two of you tangled together in this little piece of forever.

you’re deep in the moment, hands tangled around toji’s neck, your heart racing, and then thump! — your hardcover book smacks him right on the back of his head. 

you freeze, horrified, but toji just blinks, a slow grin spreading across his face. where you see a mood-killer, he sees a grand opportunity.

“well, well,” he says, rubbing the spot with exaggerated drama, “guess the dragon king’s under attack.” 

then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he reaches down, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “only one way to counter this… surprise assault.”

before you can say a word, he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing that ridiculous six — or is it eight? — pack of his. you lose count every time. the man’s a walking anatomy lesson.

he leans back against the pillows, arms casually behind his head like he’s just some unassuming king lounging in his castle. 

“so,” he drawls, raising an eyebrow, “don’t you think it’s only fair for ‘equality’ reasons that you join me in my… wardrobe adjustments?”

you stare at him, knowing exactly what he’s doing, but still, the smirk on his face is impossible to resist. 

“oh, ‘equality,’ huh?” you laugh, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “you’re seriously using that excuse?”

“hey,” he says with an innocent shrug, though that devilish grin gives him away. “you hit me on the head. you owe me. this is… reparations.”

“reparations?” you raise an eyebrow, feigning disbelief as you fiddle with the book, stalling, though your heart’s racing. “i think you just want me out of my shirt.”

“yeah, obviously.” his eyes sparkle, not an ounce of shame. “you’ve got the dragon king here, and he’s got a… well, let’s just call it a mighty thirst for, uh, ‘visual balance.’”

you laugh, shaking your head. “visual balance? you’re just making things up now!”

“come on,” he says, reaching out and gently tugging at the hem of your shirt with that smirk that melts you every time. “for equality. and… maybe chapter twenty accuracy?”

you try to hold in a laugh, failing miserably. “oh, now you’re committed to accuracy, are you?”

“absolutely.” he leans in, his eyes meeting yours, that smirk growing softer, somehow more sincere. “besides,” he murmurs, voice low, “i’m not about to let some book have all the fun of a private reading with you.”

his words send warmth straight to your chest, and you find yourself surrendering to his playfulness. slowly, you lift the hem of your shirt, and his gaze never leaves yours, following each movement with that quiet intensity that makes you feel like you’re the only thing in his world.

“happy now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow once the shirt is off and tossed to the side.

toji’s gaze trails over you, his smile widening. “mmm, much better,” he says, voice a low rumble. he reaches out, pulling you close until you’re practically lying on top of him, his hands resting lightly on your waist. 

“now,” he whispers, his breath warm against your cheek, “about that private reading…”

“you mean, before the book tries to knock you out again?” you say, laughing softly as he grins.

“nah,” he replies, pulling you closer, voice softer now. “i think i’d rather hear it from you… no books, no pages. just us.” his hand slides up your back, his touch so familiar, so gentle, and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore, just looking into his eyes, feeling like you’re in your own story, one that’s still being written.

“fine,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, his fingers brushing through your hair. “i’ll read to you, toji. but only if you promise…” you pause, smirking, “not to bring out any more ‘dragon king’ moves.”

he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “no promises,” he murmurs, voice warm and full of laughter.

you’re lost in the warmth of his embrace, melting into him as your lips meet, his hands firm on your waist, grounding you as you straddle him. skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeats syncing — it's everything a newlywed morning should be. but then… 

oh.

you feel it. 

that very… unignorable reminder pressing insistently against you, and the realization hits like a lightning bolt, your face heating up as if someone turned the thermostat up to a hundred. 

you swallow, suddenly very aware of the “problem” in question, and try your hardest to keep a straight face. 

it’s not like this is new or anything. toji’s your husband. this is normal. completely normal. all husbands feel like this for their wives, right? 

right.

but he’s… so unbothered. he doesn’t even hesitate, just keeps his hands on you, tracing slow circles along your back, his thumb brushing over your skin, his lips curling into a smirk like he knows exactly how much he’s affecting you. and maybe he does. 

of course he does.

“toji,” you manage to whisper, barely holding it together, but he’s already looking at you with that lazy, smug grin, like you’re his personal sunrise, and he’s basking in every single second. 

“you, uh… you sure you’re okay there?”

“me?” he raises an eyebrow, all innocence as he chuckles, his voice a warm, sleepy rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “i’m more than okay, sweetheart. just enjoying my beautiful wife on our first morning as mr. and mrs. fushiguro.” he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone that’s entirely too distracting. 

“besides,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin, “i think you’re the one who’s a little… flustered.”

flustered? you? 

“toji, you’ve got a —” you start, but he interrupts, grinning wickedly.

“a ‘normal human reaction’?” he teases, voice dropping to that smooth, low register that drives you crazy. “can’t help it when you’re this close. on top of me. looking like that.”

you cover your face with your hands, half-laughing, half-dying of embarrassment. “stop — oh my god, you’re insufferable.”

“and you love it,” he says, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. his eyes are soft, sincere, with a glint of mischief as he tilts his head. “what’s a husband supposed to do? just look at you? you make it real hard, y’know?”

he lets out a low laugh at your expression and then holds you tighter, his hands warm and steady on your waist. 

“guess we’re not getting out of bed for a while, huh?”

you’re not sure what’s come over you — maybe it’s the morning sunlight streaming in, soft and hazy; maybe it’s the devilish little voice in your head nudging you forward. 

but somehow, here you are, straddling your very, very surprised husband, taking matters (and his pants) into your own hands. 

and, well, let’s just say you got a little… ambitious.

before you even have time to think, you’re, um… fully committed. 

as in, no turning back. 

as in, you’re in.

toji’s eyes go wide, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s trying to catch up to what’s happening. his breath hitches, his head falling back against the pillow, and he lets out something between a sob and what might be a moan. 

his cheeks are flushed, his jaw tight, and for a second, he just stares up at you with a look that’s a mix of reverence and utter disbelief.

“you… y-you just… did you just — ?” he manages to stammer, the words catching in his throat, and suddenly, you’re the one who’s freaking out. 

the reality of what you just did hits like a freight train, and you’re not prepared.

“uh… yes?” you squeak, as if you’re also trying to convince yourself. a nervous laugh escapes you. “i mean… yeah. i just… i thought… y’know, we’re married now, so… spontaneity?”

toji’s lips press into a shaky smile, his fingers tightening on your waist. 

“spontaneity, huh?” he repeats, a breathless laugh bubbling up as he tries to process the situation. “damn, sweetheart, you really know how to keep a guy on his toes.”

your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly realize just how locked into this you are. 

no backing out now, not when you’re quite literally in the thick of it. 

“oh god,” you mutter, half to yourself. “did i just… did i seriously just yolo this?”

toji laughs, his thumb tracing comforting circles on your hip, his voice a little strained but warm as ever. “honestly? kind of the best ones of my life. but if you’re freaking out… we can take a breather.”

but there’s something in his gaze — something soft and genuine, with that signature spark of mischief — that steadies you a little. you take a breath, letting his presence calm your nerves. 

and then, with a shaky smile, you lean down, pressing your forehead to his.

“just… don’t move too fast, okay?” you whisper, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“you’re the boss, mrs. fushiguro,” he murmurs, voice low and tender, and he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you steady. “locked and loaded… best way to start the day.”

you try to summon every ounce of confidence your heroines have ever possessed — the boldness, the sass, the sheer conviction that they know exactly what they're doing. 

but here you are, completely frozen, caught somewhere between exhilaration and abject terror. 

your mind is racing, but your body? not so much. you can’t seem to move.

and to make matters worse, there’s a tiny part of you that’s panicking, the same part that has you wiggling slightly as you try to find any semblance of control. 

naturally, he notices, and, of course, he feels it, too.

toji’s eyes soften, his mouth curving into that warm, almost-too-perfect smile that always settles your nerves, and his hands move gently to your hips, steadying you with the barest of pressure. you’re not sure if he’s trying to keep you from falling apart or if he’s anchoring himself, too.

“hey,” he murmurs, voice warm and so steady it cuts through your internal chaos. “you don’t have to do anything, sweetheart. lemme take care of you.”

he tilts his head back to meet your eyes, and the softness in his gaze is almost enough to melt you. 

“besides,” he teases, a wicked little glint appearing in his eyes, “the last thing i want is you remembering this as the morning you freaked out on top of me. that wouldn’t be fair to you, or, honestly… to me.”

you manage a shaky laugh, trying to focus on him rather than the tangle of nerves twisting in your stomach. 

and maybe, just maybe, you can let go of your inner heroine pep talk just this once.

“okay…” you whisper, breath still catching, but there’s something in his touch that’s grounding you. “just… go slow?”

“yes ma’am.” his voice drops an octave, the promise of patience woven through every word, and his hands tighten just a little, guiding you with gentle confidence. he starts moving slowly, carefully, each motion more reassuring than the last. his thumb brushes your hip soothingly, grounding you.

“and remember,” he whispers, mouth brushing the corner of your mouth as he leans up, “i’m right here. always.”

you’re trying, really. 

but, for all the research you’ve put into this exact scenario, it’s like your mind’s blanking out on everything. 

front and back? sideways? or was it… circular? maybe up and down? 

why is it that the one time you desperately need a mental slideshow, all your research notes abandon you?

to make matters worse, toji’s expression isn’t exactly helping. he’s looking at you with this mix of sheer desperation and restraint, like he’s teetering on the edge of losing it or… combusting. 

maybe both.

“uh, toji,” you murmur, fingers trailing uncertainly on his chest as you try to read his reaction. “am i… doing this right?” you ask, half-joking, half-panicked, but mostly hoping for some kind of confirmation. or maybe a sign that you’re not about to ruin him.

toji’s eyes snap open a bit wider, and the sounds he makes are… well, hardly words. 

more like a strangled, garbled mess of syllables that could pass for something between a moan and a mutter. he opens his mouth to say something and then just clenches his jaw, exhaling a shaky breath.

“babe…” he finally chokes out, voice rough. “whatever you’re doing… just… give me a sec, okay?”

you stifle a laugh, watching as his hands are balled so tight at his sides that they’re nearly shaking. it’s like he’s holding himself together by sheer willpower alone. you swear his knuckles might actually be going white.

he lets out a huff, like he’s trying to recite a grocery list or remember anything that isn’t the feel of you on top of him. 

“satoru’s voice… that dumb soap commercial… yeah, yeah, there it is… ‘leaves you feeling fresh all day’... god help me,” he mutters under his breath.

“toji?” you can’t help it; you lean in, brushing your lips against his jaw as he swallows hard. 

“i think i’ve broken you.”

his head tips back, a strained laugh breaking through as he fights to keep his cool. 

“you… might just have,” he manages, voice rough around the edges, and there’s this flash of helplessness in his gaze that makes your heart skip.

“i’m doing that well, huh?” you smirk, feeling just the tiniest spark of confidence.

he groans, half in frustration, half in what sounds like pride. “yeah… yeah, you are,” he grits out. 

“and if you move… in literally any direction right now, i’m not sure how much longer i can hold back.”

you take a moment to consider, still a little nervous, but now definitely encouraged by the effect you seem to be having on him. 

“well,” you whisper, “you’re my husband now. i think that means we can both… figure this out together.”

he looks up at you, that steady, determined look in his eyes, as he exhales another shaky breath. 

“then let’s figure it out,” he murmurs, voice softer now, but still brimming with that intensity.

his hands finally settle on your hips, steadying you as he starts guiding you slowly, deliberately, and the careful rhythm he sets feels like it’s easing all that tension out of both of you.

“god… toji,” you murmur, feeling every little shift and movement as he keeps you close, never rushing, always guiding.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he says, his tone softening as he takes his time with you. “we’ve got all the time in the world.”

while toji is supposedly the one who should have all the experience here, somehow you’re the one taking charge — leading the pace, finding a rhythm, and honestly, feeling a little like some overconfident cowgirl until you remember, oh right, this is toji fushiguro, not some wild bronco.

okay, maybe ease up on the cowgirl image, you mentally scold yourself, trying to stay focused. 

but that confidence you’re feeling? it’s dangerous. because just as you settle into this boldness, feeling like you’ve got things under control, toji lets out a whimper.

your eyes fly open, heart practically stopping in your chest. 

oh no. 

was that a sound of pain? 

did you somehow… break him? 

wait, is it even possible to damage internal organs like this? 

“toji…?” you ask, almost scared to hear the answer.

he lifts his head a little, looking dazed and half-lost, his breathing heavy, eyes hazy with disbelief as he mutters, 

“y-you’re…” he doesn’t even finish, just closes his eyes, head falling back as another broken whimper slips out. 

and then it hits you.

oh.

“you… you like this?” you ask, almost stunned. the idea that you’re the one making him sound like that? 

the thought is so potent it makes you feel a rush of something warm and… yeah, okay, powerful.

he’s barely able to respond, his hands gripping your hips now, knuckles white as he nods, lips parted in another helpless gasp as he tries and fails to keep his cool. 

“don’t… stop,” he finally chokes out, like he’s barely hanging on.

“oh, trust me, i’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, heart racing. and now there’s this little thrill lighting you up from the inside out, because every tiny movement is pulling more helpless little sounds from him, his restraint finally slipping.

toji’s voice is so rough, barely holding it together as he grits out, “you’re killing me, sweetheart… god…”

“well,” you manage, barely keeping your own composure, “it’s only fair, right? after all the times you’ve done this to me?”

he lets out another shaky exhale, clearly struggling, and for a second you’re genuinely worried he might just combust completely. 

“y-you really think… you’re doing me in, huh?”

you raise a brow, smirking despite yourself. “you sound like you’re the one struggling here.”

he laughs breathlessly, like he can hardly believe it, before he pulls you close, one hand cupping the back of your neck. 

“struggling?” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise. “i’m just letting you have your fun before i flip us over and show you exactly who’s in charge here.”

your heart does a somersault. because the thrill of this playful push and pull, of seeing him finally lose control? 

that’s the best way to start any morning.

toji’s brain is on a full-blown rollercoaster right now, and not in the way he’d imagined. 

he’d thought he’d be calm, collected, the man in control, ready to take his time with you and make this morning something sweet and a little filthy, just like you’d always hinted at. 

he’d be the one setting the scene, the one doing all the work, the one guiding you gently, like he’d dreamed about doing ever since you let him in on that side of your writing.

he even had a whole monologue rehearsed in his head last night: “to my parents, my friends, and any god who’s listening, thank you for giving me this beautiful woman to love, a girl with fire in her veins and creativity for days.” 

he’d planned on simple, soft kisses, with lots of praise to make you feel adored, even throw in a little dirty talk, just like in your books. 

he’d thought about quoting a line or two back at you for fun — maybe one from that chapter you wrote where the dragon king says, “you’re all mine tonight, and you’ll feel every inch of me, i promise.”

but now? 

all that’s gone out the window, because here you are, on top of him, taking the lead with confidence, and he’s losing his mind. 

every time he tries to open his mouth, all he can get out is a strangled groan, and it’s doing something to him he wasn’t expecting. 

he can barely recognize himself; the words he’d so carefully picked out are just… gone. every time you shift, it’s like his thoughts scatter to the wind, replaced by pure, helpless need.

he wants to tell you, wants to let you know how much he loves this, loves you, how insane you’re driving him, but all that comes out is a barely-coherent mess of sounds, and it hits him that you’re not just in control of his body — you’ve completely stolen his mind, too.

“i… god, i thought i was supposed to be the one teaching you…” he finally manages to whisper, half in awe, half in defeat.

you smirk, that little gleam in your eye sending a shiver down his spine. “thought you liked a surprise every now and then?”

and all he can do is nod, a dazed look in his eyes. 

because in this moment, he realizes he’d gladly give up every carefully planned word, every practiced move, just to feel like this forever: utterly and completely wrapped around your finger, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

the second toji feels your movements stutter, that telltale shiver coursing through you, he knows exactly what’s happening. 

and oh, he’s not about to let you handle all that on your own. 

in one smooth, effortless motion, he flips you onto your back, settling himself on top of you with a grin that’s downright devilish. his muscles flex as he moves, every bit of that gym routine paying off in real time.

“thought i’d take over, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and husky, his words wrapping around you like velvet. “just… seemed like you could use a little help.”

you meet his gaze, already breathless, but the excitement bubbling inside you is impossible to ignore. 

“oh, you’re taking over now?” you tease, your hands resting on his strong shoulders, gripping tight, letting him feel the way your fingers tremble slightly. "go on then, show me what you got."

his eyes darken, and the heat between you intensifies as he lowers himself, pressing a line of kisses along your neck that makes your whole body tingle. 

"you don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with that rough, familiar affection, every word sending a thrill straight to your core.

with every frantic movement, every desperate thrust, he’s thoroughly reminding you that this is his world, and you’re just lucky to be living in it. 

the tension that had been building inside you starts winding tighter again, and you feel like you’re seconds away from cumming. every nerve is on fire, and his name escapes your lips like a prayer, like you’re as completely lost in him as he is in you.

“that’s it, just like that,” he whispers, his tone full of encouragement, his breath warm against your ear. “i want you to feel everything, sweetheart.”

and with the way he’s moving, with the heat and the energy building between you, you don’t doubt for a second that he’s going to make good on that promise.

you're clinging to him, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, arms tangled around his neck like you’re in some intense love-drunk wrestling hold, and you’re this close, teetering on the edge. 

you have no idea what to do with all that emotion bubbling up inside — are you supposed to say something? shout something? last time, when he went down on you, you practically screeched, and that memory alone is enough to make you blush in embarrassment. 

but, you’re different now, classier, you tell yourself. 

totally changed. 

so instead, you lean up, press your lips to his ear, and let out a quiet, garbled, “i love you.”

toji goes still for a fraction of a second — barely a heartbeat — but it’s long enough for you to feel it: he wasn’t ready for that. it’s a sneak attack, and you see his face shift, his eyes going wide for just a moment before the heat in them intensifies, pure, raw emotion flooding in. you feel his whole body respond to those three words, and just as you think yes, i’ve got him, you realize he’s already cumming. 

finished, before he even had a chance to let out a coherent response. he’s so stunned that he just mutters, “fuck,” breathless and hoarse, the word barely forming on his lips.

you can’t help but laugh, voice filled with a mix of triumph and disbelief. “wow, that got you, huh?” you tease, brushing a hand through his hair, feeling all the tension melt from his body as he tries to catch his breath. “and here you thought you had it all planned out.”

he huffs, pulling you even closer, his forehead resting against yours, that familiar smirk creeping back into place despite the flush on his cheeks. 

“never underestimate the power of a writer,” he murmurs, voice deep and warm. “especially when her words pack one hell of a punch.”

and you grin, sinking into the feeling of having completely swept him off his feet, knowing full well he wouldn’t want it any other way.

toji’s lying there in post-bliss, still catching his breath, when it hits him harder than any of gojo’s early-morning, glass-shattering shrieks: he just took his wife’s v-card. 

he’s your first. 

and then it all unravels, one chaotic revelation after another — he just came inside you. 

came inside you. 

and wait, oh hell, were you even on any contraception?

his eyes widen in a near-panic, and he can feel his pulse skyrocketing again, but this time it’s not from excitement. 

he remembers how much you love kids — yeah, kids. specifically, one kid. megumi. did you two even talk about adding more to that tally?

“uh, babe…” he starts, pulling away as gently as possible. he ignores the mess and all sense of grace as he practically scrambles to his feet, hurriedly grabbing the first thing he can to clean you up, which turns out to be some spare tissues by the bed.

you blink up at him, a bit dazed but smiling, that look of total contentment on your face. but it just makes him panic more.

“are… are you okay?” he asks, voice a bit too frantic. he’s cleaning you up with a gentleness that feels oddly out of character, his hands trembling just slightly as he checks you over, his fingers brushing your cheek, your arm, like he’s making sure you’re really, truly okay. “do you feel… i dunno, uh… like, rested? like, you’re good, right? not too sore?”

you let out a soft laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek. “i’m fine, toji. actually, i’m more than fine,” you say, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone, and his heart does that stupid skip thing again. he can’t let himself get sidetracked, though.

“oh, that’s good — really good.” he nods, grabbing the water bottle that’s somehow on his nightstand, a red iron man one. “here, drink this.” he uncaps it, nudging it toward your lips. “hydrate and all.”

you stare at the bottle for a second, blinking. 

“is that… ‘gumi’s iron man bottle?”

“i don’t know, and i don’t care right now. just drink,” he says, pushing it toward you with a kind of determination, and you obediently take a few sips, though you’re clearly trying not to laugh.

after a few swallows, you pull back, wiping your lips. “toji, relax. you’re the one who told me to trust you, right?”

he’s rubbing the back of his neck now, a bit embarrassed but mostly still caught up in his thoughts. “yeah, well, i didn’t think that…” he trails off, looking at the mess on the sheets with an almost horrified expression. 

“i just… we didn’t talk about… kids.”

you tilt your head, giving him a soft look. “toji, do you want kids?”

he runs a hand through his hair, that panic settling into something softer. “i mean, i’m good with megs, y’know? he’s… he’s all i need, but… it’s not like i’d be against it.” he shifts, the vulnerability clear in his eyes. “just… wanted to make sure that’s what you wanted, too.”

you reach for his hand, pulling him back down beside you, a reassuring smile on your face. “we can figure that out together. maybe we don’t know everything yet, but that’s okay. we’ve got time, don’t we?”

he lets out a sigh, relief flooding through him as he squeezes your hand. “yeah, yeah we do. i guess i just… never thought i’d get to do this. to be… a real family, with you.”

“toji,” you murmur, leaning in close, pressing your forehead to his. “you already gave me everything i could ever want. whether it’s just you and me, or us and megumi… or more.”

he lets out a chuckle, feeling lighter as he finally lets himself relax. “alright, alright. just don’t scare me like that, okay?” he mumbles, reaching for the blanket to cover you both up again. 

and as he lies back down beside you, he can’t help the soft smile that spreads across his face.

two years had flown by since that whirlwind of a wedding, and life with toji and megumi had settled into a heartwarming, beautifully chaotic rhythm. 

megumi, now ten , was in a phase where he’d scoff and roll his eyes at anything even remotely ‘ kiddish ,’ claiming he was far too mature for that stuff now.

but you’d caught glimpses of that little boy spark in him — a reminder that he hadn’t fully shed his innocence yet. 

like the time you’d spent an entire evening painstakingly building a lego dragon together, a complicated model that had you and toji squinting at the manual with a kind of warrior resolve.

where toji groaned, half-buried in tiny plastic pieces. “this better be the last one, kiddo, or your mama and i are gonna turn into dragons ourselves,” he muttered, piecing together the dragon’s intricate scales.

megumi tried to act indifferent, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “well, i don’t need it. dragons are kinda… whatever .”

but the moment the final piece snapped into place, his face lit up with such unguarded delight, and he stared at the completed dragon, almost in awe. 

“actually… it’s kinda cool,” he mumbled, tracing the wings with his finger.

and then there was the iron man phase. 

just last week, you had surprised him with a new iron man action figure — the latest model that even he, the ‘ oh-so-mature ’ ten-year-old, had been subtly eyeing. he’d accepted it with a feigned shrug, muttering something about it being ‘ okay ,’ but later you found him arranging his collection on his shelf with utmost care, placing iron man front and center.

today was a new milestone, though. suguru, ever the romantic, had finally invited his elusive business partner and the woman he was head over heels for: the famed mrs. ryomen , founder of persephone wines, accompanied by none other than her husband, ryomen sukuna . their wine brands were renowned globally, their rivalry and partnership like something out of a novel, and, unsurprisingly, satoru never shut up about how good the wines were.

the moment you laid eyes on her, you understood why suguru was so smitten. she was a vision of grace — calm, poised, with an elegance that felt both timeless and grounded. her wisdom was palpable, like she’d seen the world and learned from it, carrying that understanding effortlessly. 

and beside her was sukuna, a towering figure, his presence demanding attention without a single word. he wore his reputation as the industry’s most formidable businessman like a second skin, but there was a softness in his eyes whenever he glanced at his wife.

and trailing beside them, in her adorable little dress and with a wide, mischievous smile, was their five-year-old daughter, aiko. she looked exactly like her mother but had that unmistakable devious glint in her eyes — the unmistakable ryomen charm that came with a penchant for trouble.

aiko spotted megumi almost immediately, her eyes lighting up as she sized him up with that daring grin. without a second’s hesitation, she skipped over, standing tall in front of him as if ready for a duel. 

“you’re megumi, right?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

megumi nodded, looking slightly intimidated but also oddly impressed. “uh… yeah? ”

“my daddy says you’re gonna be tall like him someday,” she announced with a challenging gleam. “but i think i’ll still be cooler.”

toji, watching the exchange, chuckled, leaning down to you. “she’s got the ryomen spirit, alright. poor suguru, he’s in for a lifetime of keeping up.”

suguru, who had been watching from the sidelines, gave an almost weary smile. “don’t remind me. she’s just like her dad, which is… terrifying.”

over the course of the evening, satoru found every possible opportunity to rave about the wine, which led to a slightly tipsy serenade of praise to both persephone and ryomen wines. 

suguru shook his head, but you caught the faintest hint of pride in his eyes as satoru loudly professed, “the best wine on earth, right here! what did i do in my past life to deserve this ?”

“satoru, we get it,” shoko laughed, patting his shoulder. “but maybe save some of your poetic speeches for the actual wine reps?”

sukuna, stoic as ever, cracked the smallest smirk. “better listen to her, gojo, or next time you’re paying double for every bottle.”

at this, megumi tugged at your hand, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, “do you think they’re like… superheroes? like, fancy business ones? ”

you grinned, whispering back, “maybe, but the kind that save people’s sanity after long days with a good glass of wine.”

as the night wore on, aiko became bolder, challenging megumi to little games and teasing him whenever he pretended to be unimpressed. 

by the end, they were both racing around, megumi begrudgingly admitting that maybe having a ‘ little kid ’ around wasn’t the worst thing ever.

and you, watching your little found family and newfound friends all mingling, felt a sense of peace settle over you. life had changed so much, yet, with every piece that had fallen into place, it felt more complete than ever.

toji slid his hand into yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “so,” he murmured, nodding towards the crowd of laughing, chatting, slightly inebriated friends, “how’s forever treating you?”

you squeezed his hand back, leaning into his warmth. “with you? it’s perfect .”

— [epilogue] 

megumi adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat as he began his podcast. the familiar red recording light blinked on, and for a moment, he hesitated. 

but then, that cool, low voice of his rolled out — completely unaware of just how many listeners were tuned in because of that very voice.

“hey, everyone,” he started, with a slight, almost embarrassed laugh. “it’s megumi. welcome back to another episode. thanks for sticking around, i guess.” 

he took a deep breath, leaning into his usual deadpan humor. “today’s a little… special.”

eight years had passed, and megumi was now eighteen, on the verge of starting college. you never could have imagined that the quiet, reserved little boy who once scowled at anything that wasn’t cool enough would be sitting here, in gojo-sonic’s recording studio, with a podcast following that had skyrocketed in the last few months - his own little corner of the internet was a hit.

it was always a little surreal, hearing him speak like that — like an old pro — though megumi had no idea just how attractive his voice was. 

you’d caught snippets of his episodes in passing, and honestly, you were floored. it had that raw, emo, mysterious vibe that made his fans swoon. 

but megumi didn’t care much for that. he just liked talking. 

talking about whatever came to mind, whether it was the state of the world or random deep thoughts about dragons (which his viewers loved).

he paused for a second, then smirked. “so, apparently, it’s the anniversary of the sequel to my mama’s infamous ‘mating with the dragon king’ series, which is, uh…” he chuckled under his breath. “a title i try not to think too hard about, for my own sanity.”

he glanced at his notes, mentally preparing himself for the rest. “but it’s also my parents’ anniversary. they’ve been together a long time now, and honestly, i think they’ve aged pretty well… if not gotten weirder, too.”

"okay, so first things first," megumi continued, tapping his fingers against the mic like he was thinking. 

"i’ve been asked a lot recently — yeah, like a lot — about my parents. so, i thought today, i’d… well, talk about them. for those who don’t know, my mom and dad are basically the best couple on the planet." 

he paused for a moment, a rare smirk tugging at his lips. "and no, i’m not just saying that because they pay my college tuition," he added, voice dry, before laughing lightly. the subtle humor, that ever-present dry wit of his, had not been lost over the years.

“i’m serious, though,” megumi continued, his tone shifting slightly. “they’ve been married almost ten years now. ten years. that’s a long time, right? you know, the stuff i’ve seen them go through — good and bad — has honestly been like watching a rom-com… without the cheesy music. it’s real.”

he leaned back, grinning at the memory of his dad attempting to act cool when his mom gave him the anniversary gift she’d obviously poured her heart into, and how his dad pretended to brush it off while trying not to tear up. 

“i swear, my dad still thinks he’s the heartthrob he was in his youth… not that he’ll admit he ever thought that.”

a comment from the live chat caught his eye, and he read it aloud with a half-smile, “how are the lovebirds doing these days?”

“they’re… good,” he answered, a little softer, before laughing. “honestly, they’re like teenagers sometimes. last week, i caught them dancing to “dancing queen” in the kitchen at, like, two in the morning. my mama insisted they were ‘practicing their moves.’”

another comment rolled in: “is it true they started dating because of ‘mating with the dragon king’?”

megumi groaned, rubbing his forehead. 

“okay, so — yes, my mama’s… work may or may not have been involved in them getting together. which, by the way, is mortifying, but what can you do?”

he continued, “so yeah, every year, around this time, they go through the book again. they claim it’s just to, i don’t know, ‘relive the magic,’ or whatever. but personally, i think it’s just their excuse to laugh over the old cheesy lines and then get all sappy.” his voice softened, and you could hear the fondness there. “it’s… it’s cute, actually.”

as he sifted through more questions, a few regulars in the chat started asking about his dad’s influence on the podcast. 

“so… ‘like father, like son,’ huh?” he repeated aloud. “you all know my dad, toji fushiguro. he’s been a big reason i’m doing this at all. every week he tunes in and listens, usually making some snide comment about my ‘emo’ voice.” he chuckled. 

“but, like, he’s my biggest fan. it’s… weird. and kinda awesome.”

megumi leaned closer to the mic, as if sharing a secret. “sometimes he even gives me topic ideas, and he likes to pretend he’s all smooth about it. last week he was like, ‘hey, you ever think about doing an episode on… i don’t know, how to handle annoying old guys? just… putting it out there.’” 

megumi rolled his eyes. “yeah, thanks, dad.”

one listener asked, “so, are your parents tuning in today?”

megumi laughed. “oh, you better believe it. mama’s probably listening right now, making little notes about everything she’s going to tease me for later. and dad? he’s probably lounging around, acting all nonchalant, but hanging onto every word. he never says it, but… he’s proud. he just shows it in weird, dad ways.”

you, sitting in the living room across the house, smiled to yourself. you and toji hadn’t missed an episode of his podcast, even if megumi was often too cool to tell you exactly what he was talking about on-air. 

this was your son, the one who swore he'd never be like you two, now waxing poetic about your love life. you had to admit, it felt like a win.

you couldn't help but chuckle as you leaned over to toji, who was sprawled on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. “he doesn’t even realize how much he sounds like you.”

toji grinned, looking up from his phone. “i know. ’m proud, honestly. the kid’s got my voice, and he’s got a knack for talking like a damn pro.”

then, someone commented, “do they still do their anniversary dinner tradition?”

“yeah, every year without fail,” he said with a warm smile. “they go to this little bar where they first met. same table, same drinks….it’s a whole thing. and they always make sure to bring something dragon-themed as, like, an inside joke.”

“is it true you used to help pick out those dragon anniversary gifts?”

“uh, yeah, when i was a kid, i’d help out. it started with this silly little dragon keychain i got from a claw machine. my mama loved it, and dad pretended it was the best thing ever. and now… it’s just something they do. last year, we found this ridiculously tacky dragon-shaped candle holder. they loved it, of course.”

he paused, watching the flood of hearts and happy emojis on the screen. “honestly, seeing them still be so… them, even after all these years — it’s kinda awesome.”

as the comments continued to pour in, he couldn’t help but smile. “you know, when i was younger, i thought all of it was a little much. but now, i think… it’s cool. like, really cool, to have two people who just… get each other, and who make life fun. like, i might roll my eyes, but i wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

“anyway, that’s enough of the mushy stuff,” megumi added with a huff, trying to shake off the softness that had crept into his voice. “the point is, they’ve been together for a decade, and they still act like they’re in their honeymoon phase. but they’re both ridiculous, so whatever works, right?”

one final comment caught his eye: “do you ever think about finding a love like theirs?”

megumi laughed, leaning back in his chair. “i don't really know if I’ll ever be that kind of couple — that couple who looks at each other like it's just… meant to be. but honestly? i kinda hope i do. 'cause if that’s what they’ve got, i want it too. who knows?”

there was a beat of silence before megumi sighed, clearly awkward with what he’d just said. 

"alright, that’s enough of the sappy stuff. let’s move on to today's topic of… superhero movies."

the episode cut into a new segment, but not before you could hear megumi’s voice soften again.

“but if i do… you guys will be the first to hear about it. after all, i learned from the best.”

you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling an overwhelming swell of love for your son. despite all his protests, the way he spoke about you and toji just now? it was more than a little heartwarming.

“ten years, huh?” toji said softly, his voice carrying that familiar warmth. “you think we’ve gotten better with age, or are we just getting more ridiculous?”

you leaned your head on his shoulder, chuckling softly. “i’d say both. we’re definitely more ridiculous. but i’m pretty sure we’re still just as in love as we were on day one.”

toji smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

back in the recording room, megumi wrapped up the episode with his usual quiet flair, and just as he was about to sign off, he added, 

"to all the people listening out there — especially the ones who think i'm some kind of “emo, angsty mess” — you’re not wrong. but hey, thanks for sticking around. and shoutout to mama and dad… for being the real heroes of this fushiguro life.”

you heard the final click of the microphone turning off, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell once again, knowing that your little family, in all its weird, loving chaos, was exactly where it needed to be.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[patricia-taxxon]

Inspired by your last Rambley video, what's a good heuristic for realizing you're in too deep with a hyperfixation? I get pretty obsessed over some stuff but it sorta falls off after a couple of years or so, for the most part.

But, that means I've never (at least not recently, I had that obsession with bats when I was 11-12ish) manually pried myself off of an escapist hyperfixation out of a recognition it's gone too far. I fear that means I'm already years past Too Far and don't realize it.

The complicating part here is imagining myself as a nonhumanthing has been a very pro-social force in my life. Pro-social, anti-reality, maybe. Is escapism okay if it's a group activity?

I think I'm failing to word this correctly but you might get the idea of what I mean.

in this case its cus i was actually dissociating and in pain over the story i made up for him, and i had a bit of an identity crisis after i realized that nothing i feel about myself is real and id actually just deluded myself into thinking i could ever transition into dog in the way i wanted, i played myself. i can't be out here giving myself genuine heartbreak over someone that isn't real. although i still love the tragedy i laid out for us as a story and hope to engage with it in a more healthy way in the future.

I think the reason I got konked out of reality so hard by this little guy is partially cus he feels a lot like me, they put an autism creature in the game. the awkward wordiness, the vies for attention, the self conscious childishness, the fur and cute little ears, he's just like me. The love story just makes too much narrative sense with me, the real person, playing it out. I have real friends though, and Rambley isn't actually going to give me what I need in life. Such is autism.

[txttletale]

hey, "sorta-long time viewer, first time asker", thought i'd reach out to ask about your recommended reading on socialist/communist theory. besides the obvious like the Communist Manifesto and the works of Lenin and such

optionally, i'd appreciate sources to access and read what you pick out, but i can probably manage on my own without them

please and thanks! <3

obviously bear in mind that my perspective is just one and quite limited -- & also that i very much approach marxist theory from the lenses of anti-imperialism and cultural studies. that said, my basic recommended reading list of books that equipped me with the ideological tools i have now would look something like:

engels, principles of communism

marx, wage labour & capital

marx, the german ideology

engels, socialism: utopian & scientific

luxemburg, reform or revolution?

lenin, the state & revolution

lenin, imperialism: the highest stage of capitalism

fanon, the wretched of the earth

rodney, how europe underdeveloped africa

nkrumah, neocolonialism: the last stage of imperialism

gramsci, the prison notebooks

adorno & horkheimer, the culture industry

parenti, inventing reality

chomsky & herman, manufacturing consent

benjamin, the work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction

castro, capitalism in crisis

a lot of these texts can be found for free on marxists.org. the rest can be found for free on all kinds of cool websites if you type their name into google search with 'pdf free' at the end

[bobbydagen24]

some Head Cannons about Bro zone inspired by the fact literally everyone else has been doing these posts lol.

I think Floyd and Clay would end up trying to live with Branch in the Bunker but would find it too hard for multiple reasons one being Branch actually has loud night terrors often. that no one knows about but its actually one of the reasons why he still chooses to live so far away from everyone else in the village and Floyd and Clay are kept awake at nights just hearing him loudly screaming and shouting.

and one on occasion when they did try to wake him it resulted in Branch springing up and attacking them throwing one of them to the ground and pulling a weapon out of his Hair and nearly hitting them with it until Branch finally snapped out of it and realised where he was.

kinda helping Floyd and Clay realise for the first time how deeply affected Branch is by his past to the point he's still on such High alert even in his own home.

2. whenever Bro zone have any sort of arguments even if their not 100 percent serous and just mostly petty sibling Banter Branch still gets visibly afraid.

and nervous maybe even trying to defuse the situation but his voice and body language making it clear he's genuinely nervous which actually stops the other bros in their tracks.

and they try to reassure him the family isn't breaking up and its just normal sibling banter but regardless Branch isn't able to tell the difference between serous family shattering arguments and just normal day to day sibling banter.

so the bros try and make it more clear in the future that their just mostly joking around as opposed to seriously fighting amongst each other.

3. John Dory used to be a pretty social party animal but after spending over 20 years traveling with just Rhonda for company he's actually a pretty anti social person now.

tho he doesn't like to admit it and he tries to put on the persona of the social party animal in front of his Brothers he actually finds big crowds and meeting new people to be super stressful.

4. Bruce gained most of his extra weight in the immediate aftermath of his and JDs big fight as he stress ate for quite a while afterwards tho in present day he tries to hide this fact to avoid making JD feel bad since he can tell he's genuinely changed since then.

5. Floyd would be the one to try and encourage his Brothers to actually talk about their more negative feelings towards each other meanwhile the others just want to leave it as they are seem to be doing fine in present day.

and they don't want to bring up the uncomfortable stuff from the past again but Floyd would think its healthy that they do so.

6. if/when Branch and Poppy do get engaged each of the Bros will be excitedly waiting in anticipation to see which of them Branch picks to be his best man and Teasing each other over it.

only for Branch to shatter their Dreams when he announces that he's chosen Gary to be his best man ( this HC assumes that Gary gets added to the movie cannon at some point ).

and his bros are all weirded out and confused and some of them even think its just a Joke at first but when it becomes clear he isn't Joking.

some of them even sorta angrily confront Branch on how he could choose a friggin Remote Control over any of them only for Branch to cut the none serous casual attitude he'd had up to this point and tell them.

that yes he knows Gary is an inanimate object but he's been a more consistent comfort in his life than any of them ever have and well its his wedding so if they can't accept that then he doesn't want them there.

7. Branch would be a little bit resentful about the fact that Bruce went off and started a new family forgetting all about him while he waited for all of them to come back over the years.

he wouldn't outright tell him this due to fear of stirring the pot amongst the family when they've only just gotten things back on track.

but it'd end up coming out one way or another and Bruce would show a bit of growth and actually be understanding of why Branch would feel this way Rather than judging him for it.

meanwhile JD would would say he also felt pretty hurt by this only for Bruce to casually brush it off since he really doesn't give a crap if it hurt John's ego 😂😂😂😂

[starlight-eclipsed]

DPXDC Social Media AU

Fic below!

The video started, the camera focusing on the scene before it. A teenager’s bedroom was shown, decorated with posters of space and model rockets. It was deceptively normal, had it not been for fans pointing out that they weren’t labeled LexCorp, Wayne, or any of the other leading names in aerospace.

“Hey everyone!” The teen in question greeted, smiling at the camera as he waved. “Danny here! Sorry for the radio silence—two of my rogues decided to do a collaboration and kidnapped a bunch of people. My parents grounded me and took all my video games since I kinda trashed a bunch of their equipment saving them, so I finally had enough time to record this. Again, grabbing a smartphone from you guys’ dimension was absolutely the right call. Looking forward to when the ones here will get to that level and I can use mine in public.”

Sitting back in his seat, Danny waved his hands. Papers from around the room were pulled up in the air, showing a variety of news clippings, report cards, and event flyers from the last year. “Sweet, that worked! I know it’s been a year, but I’m still getting used to these powers. Anyway, today’s topic is: secret identities! Specifically how much they can suck sometimes.”

The papers drop as he spins in his chair and folds his arms.

“Okay, so I’m gonna start this by saying I only speak for myself. Your dimension has a ton of other heroes who have all kinds of perspectives on this kind of thing. It’s also not an invitation to start harassing your friends and coworkers if they pull any stunts like the ones I’m gonna talk about. Some people are just flaky, some have other things in their life going on that they don’t want to talk to you about. In the extremely unlikely chance that you’re right and the friend who keeps bailing on you is a vigilante, you should leave that shit alone. No matter how justified you are in getting upset that they don’t have the time for you, trying to expose them can kill not only them, but everyone they want to protect. Don’t do it.”

Clapping his hands Danny tilts his head to listen for something before continuing. “With that out of the way and my whole family leaving the house, let’s get to it. Going ghost!”

A flash of light marks the transformation, revealing Phantom at the end. He adjusts the camera so that he remains in frame as he now floats in his room.

“So if you’re new here, let me run through the basics. When I was fourteen, I died and came back wrong. No, I won’t go into the details—I don’t need any of you getting any ideas. I can appear as human, so me and my two best friends decided to keep it a secret from my parents, who are ghost hunters. The current arrangement is that I go out as Phantom to fight off aggressive ghosts when they attack, and the rest of time I try to lead a somewhat abnormal civilian life.”

“Onto the topic. Now, the main reason people keep their identity secret is so that their enemies can’t use it to hurt them. I…sorta do that? I mean I’d be in a lot of trouble if ghost hunters figured me out, and the government here kinda revoked my human rights so there’s that. But there’s no hiding from other ghosts. Not when we can sense each other. I’m just lucky for the anti-ghost hunter solidarity, it’s probably the only reason my rogues haven’t revealed my human identity to the world.”

He shivered dramatically.

“So, humans. People. Being a superpowered vigilante is all fun and games except when an attack happens during class. I don’t even ask to go to the bathroom anymore, the teachers gave up on stopping me,” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Don’t get me started on how many times I’ve gotten grounded or given extra detentions because I was busy stopping someone from torching a building or possessing someone to ruin their life in creative ways. I can’t just tell them why I wasn’t there, so I either have to act like an idiot who forgot that I have classes to attend or pretend like I was skipping on purpose. Which I was, but not like that, ya know?”

“Another thing! My grades have completely tanked. I used to be a straight A student, I needed to be if I wanted to be an astronaut. But no, I had to go and get myself killed, and now my biology is all messed up so I can’t even qualify for the physical if my grades were good enough. Which they aren’t, because now I spend most of my time brawling whatever ghost of the day. And like, sure. I could do my homework and study in the rest of the time I have that’s not spent sleeping. But that’s exhausting, and honestly I’d rather take the F than spend all my time working.”

He sighed, slumping down a bit in his chair.

“It just sucks. My sister is setting records on her exams, and I’m a few pity-grades away from being held back a year. At least now I can handle most of the regulars by myself, so I’m not dragging my friends down with me. They deserve better.”

Danny opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by mist escaping his lungs. He groaned, using his telekinesis to put his room back in order (notably cramming his graded assignments behind his dresser) and reaching for the camera.

“That’s my cue. Here’s hoping I can handle whoever’s out there fast enough so I have time to get started on my book report. Over and out.”

The video ended there. For many, that would be the last they’d hear of what was speculated to be the best performance-style LARP series for a while. Fans would start analyzing the footage not in the comments section, which was disabled, but in a separate online forum.

However, there was one place, albeit less well known, that one Danny Phantom would respond in.

———

Anonymous said

its good to see yuo posting again, but you looked really stressed. are you ok?

phantompaining

lol no

—

metwise said

I completely agree with you on your recent video. Vigilante work is hard; I was lucky when I started out, and I still nearly died many times over. Don’t let your grades get to you, if your school system is anything like this world’s equivalent then it is based heavily on busywork. Next time you’re visiting this world, try looking into online schooling. There should be free resources online you can download and follow along at your own pace to supplement the classes you miss. So long as you score well on tests, you can make up for the homework grades.

phantompaining

oh ill have to look into that, sounds neat. not sure if ill get around to actually studying any of it, but its better than nothing. i cant wait for my earth to catch up with yours, online school sounds so much better

gottabeoakin

Ayo is that Red Robin? Why tf is he takin some kids larp so seriously

implusivefruit

bold words from the deathnote rp acc

—

phantompaining

shoutout to my rogues, who beat the shit out of me, dropped some new ghost lore, then backed me up in fighting an army of the undead

also mech suits hurt like hell how does skulker do it

beetletakethewheel

Mech suits shouldn’t hurt??

phantompaining

my parents’ one runs on lifeforce

anyway if i had a dollar for every time i woke up somewhere i didn’t pass out in these last few days i’d have enough money to buy a burger

killmetwise 

How much do your burgers cost

phantompaining

(:

—

phantompaining

when the hell did so many supers start following me where are you people coming from

superttk

‘why r there so many heroes’ says the hero on the hero site

01101001-01100011-01110101

its like the only anonymous platform left that doesnt suck

totallynotharleyquinn

Free entertainment <3

phantompaining

ok fair

phantompaining

wait a second

—

coalminesinger said

Hello Phantom! I just wanted to check in on you after your last few posts. Did you enjoy your weekend off?

phantompaining

nope lol, technus escaped and I used one of my parents inventions to split myself to try and relax while handling the ghost issue and just made more work for myself

metwise 

#on the plus side my house is now on the beach #just in time for summer

You live in the middle of town???

phantompaining

yea putting it back is gonna be a pain

—

phantompaining

ok this is gonna be a heavy one folks. like arkham asylum levels of shit. i just spent the last week with my family convinced i was going insane, and i need to vent

:readmore:

discowinginginging

That really really sucks, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.

I went through a similar experience (only I was under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug that made me see, hear, and feel the villain in question, who wasn’t actually there). I was lucky enough to be on a team with someone who could read my mind and figure out what was happening, but if you can’t do that the next best thing is figuring out code words with anyone in the know. Obviously it’s not perfect, but some kind of word indicating that you feel like something is very wrong could save you a lot of trouble.

More under the cut.

:readmore:

phantompaining

…that could work? ill have to talk to my friends about it, but it sounds good

#thanks #still cant believe so many of yall are following this

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

elon musk is on twitter spreading conspiracy theories that Jewish people advocate hatred towards white people and several white supremacist forums are celebrating.

ok sooo... basically that's called going full nazi (as if he wasn't before).

like yeah that level of antisemitism is legit going to get people killed. also I know I said this on another blog but here's the link

and in it I'm like really trying to get through to the white anon to become anti racist and teach their racist white friends to unpack their antiblackness/misogynoir/racism. like yeah I've had these blogs for years and it seems that most white people who have noticed that their friends and family are racist just throw their hands up and go oh well I guess I have to cut them off now.

Like no that's not the solution. to be an ally with PoC you've got to confront the racists in your life. that includes going to thanksgiving dinner armed with facts about how elon musk is a nazi.

mod ali

[octuscle]

Hey, I stole this dudes phone and when I opened it it had a notification saying:

Transformation Initiated Mode: Stoner Nationality: American Muscle: Above Average Intelligence: Very Low

Can you help me figure out what this means? I’m sorta freaking out here!… wait, no! This can’t be happeni…. Hey man, do I know you?

Well, Chronivac theft protection is a fairly new functionality. To be honest: This is the first case I know of where it was applied and worked. Well, tough luck, mate!

First of all, I ask you to hand over the cell phone to me. I have an old Caterpillar device here. I guess you mixed up the devices by mistake. I mean, you're really stupid, something like that can happen, right?

In your case, the anti-theft protection has been directly combined with the Chronivac penalty. You may have heard about the procedure. Punishment must be humiliating. And socially useful. And while you still have to listen to your mates saying stupid things about why you have this clunky and ancient cell phone instead of a cool iPhone, your cool clothes start to change. Wifebeater. Dungarees. The last time you showered was four days ago. Why should you? With your job as a carpenter, you're sweating all day in this heat anyway. Your cool, well-groomed goatee turns into a shaggy full beard. And your perfectly defined muscles disappear under a healthy layer of fat. You tell your former buddies to go fuck themselves, you have to get back to work now. Honestly work would do the thugs some good too…

I'm sorry about the hammer and your middle finger. But you still have to find your way in your new role. You'll learn. And you will never steal cell phones again.

Cool inspriation by @davesden64 

[lovingmimiii]

ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩

ᡣ𐭩 Blitzo With a Sensitive S/O! . . . 🧸 (before relationship and present!)

~ 🧸ྀི ~ It is NO secret that Blitzo can and will be an unfiltered piece of crap. He is foul mouthed, sardonic, and overall a bitch to some people who’ve seen his usual self. There was no exceptions…was…

~ 🧸ྀི ~ You were a fellow (and also new) employee of the I.M.P. To say the least, you were incredibly sensitive and shy. You struggled to communicate with your other colleagues freely without you feeling uncomfortable. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to them—it’s just that it was such a hard task to do that it interfered with your life.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Slowly, but surely you got to know your close colleagues that would soon become the few friends you’d have. Moxxie and Millie were the easiest to get close with. They took your feelings into consideration and will be quick to back off or take you away from a situation that made you feel uncomfortable. They were great friends to have around when you found yourself in those situations. Not to mention how they will fuck anyone up if they dared to make you feel like crap.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Loona was the hardest to become friends with but that was because you’re never the first to start up a conversation and how Loona didn’t care enough to pay you any mind. You were quite intimidated by her since she would scowl or roll her eyes at you whenever you looked her way. You thought that you’d never form a small connection with Loona but surprisingly (With the help of Millie and Moxxie), you two formed a strange but good friendship. Loona seemed to tolerate you more than anyone else in the I.M.P so you assumed that was a good thing.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ But, there was ONE BIGGG problem. Your boss. Blitzo. Yeah—no WAY you were going to form a friendship with him. Sure, he’s your boss, but you can’t help but hide behind someone or something to get far out of his sight. You felt so overwhelmed when he was around and also incredibly intimidated. You’ve heard how he talked to those around them and…it scared you. Petrified you even. Satan forbid you get called into his office—fearing for your life more than you already did.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Blitzo on the other hand was pretty oblivious to how you felt about him. However, he did try to force you out of your shell on multiple occasions, which they all failed drastically. He just thought that you were some anti social freak at first and just kept rolling with his day. It wasn’t until he finally went into some deep thinking.

Why were you much more open with his employees? He sees you hanging around them throughout the day and you seem just fine! So what is it with him? What’s wrong with him?

It’s not only because you hang around Millie, Moxxie, and Loona either. One time you made them all gifts and he was the only one left without a single gift from you. Blitzo waited all fuckin’ day for his gift that you never gave to him. Probably didn’t even make him one. It drove Blitzo crazy because he’s tried to get you out of your shell but you were stubborn as hell and now he sees you acting all social? Come on!?

~ 🧸ྀི ~ It wasn’t until Blitzo was open about his concerns that Loona told him the truth. She explained briefly how you feel about Blitzo, mentioning how the two of you are polar opposites of one another.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Blitzo knows that he can be an asshole sometimes…all the time—but some part of him wants you to see him in a different light. He doesn’t know why it’s so vital to him for you to see him differently but it’s practically killing him!

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Millie and Moxxie were put on a small mission where they try to convince you to be more open minded about Blitzo. They explain how Blitzo is willing to try for you (despite how out of character it sounds) and it sorta encourages you. They’ve known Blitzo longer than you’ve had so you say that their judgement is pretty credible. Besides, these two were your friends and you trust them to lead you on the right path…even if there wasn’t any down here in Hell.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ The two of began hanging around each other more. It was a deathly slow process but growth was growing within you. The first couple of times where you and Blitz hung out was pretty awkward considering you hardly spoke to him and he’d always have time lead the conversations with you. Surprisingly, Blitz was pretty patient with you. Of course there’s those moments where he’d accidentally get frustrated and he kinda snaps but he quickly tries to get his act together when he sees your startled look.

“For fucks sake! You can’t even tell me what your favorite fucking color is? Christ-…shit—shit, okay, okay—look, I’m sorry? Fuck—I’m just not used to this alright? Cut me some slack…”

To be honest, he does look pretty adorable when he does this in your opinion….wait what?

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Oh god… when you finally said a full fucking sentence to this man…Oh—Oh. He was about to sob. He’d NEVER heard you say so many words TO HIM ever since your ass appeared at the company. Fucking finally you say something!

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Blitz knew he had won the fucking jackpot when you FINALLY made him a gift. Oh he cherished it so dearly because it marked that he had done a good deed for the first time in his miserable ass life.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

~ Present ~ ! . . . ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Now back to the present time where suddenly the two of you managed to actually become a pretty healthy couple…

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Millie and Moxxie claim that your nature most definitely rubbed off on Blitz in some way (which he denies heavily)

When you two became a thing, Blitz practically trained himself to be more calm when you were around. He wasn’t AS foul mouthed like he usually was (Of course there were still some muttered curses underneath his breath), wasn’t so loud either, and overall whenever you were around Blitz was a changed man…sorta.

He’s learned how to tell when you are uncomfortable in situations and will immediately remove you from them. He has caught all the signs of you being overwhelmed engraved in the back of his mind.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Blitz doesn’t do well with affection but he’s trying. Whenever you get to a point where you are on the verge of tears he’d kinda shut down for a moment before trying to help you. He genuinely wants to help you and you understand that this sort of thing isn’t something he’s good at. He acknowledges how patient you are with him and it makes me feel good. He doesn’t feel the need to rush because you’ll give him that time.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Tends to baby you sometimes and cling onto you but you honestly think that’s because Loona isn’t with that so he just does it to you.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ Sort of possessive over you because he can’t risk losing someone so dear to him. You are the love his life after such a long time and he can’t leave you—but he also fears that he’ll make you run away. He doesn’t want to be the cause of you leaving him. During some vulnerable moments (which took a long while to get to), he expressed this fear to you. Your heart ached for the imp and you reassured him that you’d never leave him and how if you two ever had a disagreement, you both will sit down and talk about to create that healthy relationship.

~ 🧸ྀི ~ God he loves you SOOOOOO MUUUUCHHHHHHHH

[aloii]

TOH OC : Haven Evermore

General Info:

Name: Haven Evermore ( Haven meaning Harbor, Safe place, and Evermore meaning something which is everlasting or eternal)

Age: 16 ( His birthday is on January 21 )

Sexuality: gay

Coven: Emperors Coven ( S2A + S2B )

“ Haven evermore is a scout working at the emperors coven. He is one of the youngest scouts in the coven, only being 16, and is constantly being worked to the brink. “

Personality:

Haven is well known to be quiet and anti social , even when he forsnt want to. He lacks proper social skills because of his tendency to just follow orders, ending up being awkard around others as a result. While reserved, he surprisingly has this calm aura around him despite panicking most of the time. Hes a people pleaser at first , which causes him to get taken advantaged of by the elder scouts of the emperors coven, doing their chores and shifts to make a good impression.

—

Magic info:

Havens magical abilities are a result of his magic manifesting late into his early teens , unlike other witches who usually manifest theirs from - well, birth. This is why his magic is a darker color unlike the usual white glow most witches have. His magic is chaotic and unstable, its strong to the point that it can start rotting into a black goo like substance. Because of this, his eyes glow when using magic. You could say his powers hold a similaritues to both belos condition and artificial magic , as Haven cannot perform normal magic , and instead can do things similar to artificial magic at best.

Haven does not know how to use his magic properly due to its strength and sorta lack of expirience. Which is why whenver he uses his magic, it harms him, causing the ocassional blue nose bleed.

[desire-mona]

forgive me for leftist-posting abt the gay movie, but the dead poets society is soooo leftist-adjacent in my mind. "mona wtf does that mean" im not entirely sure! something about rebelling against a school with such strict rules and reliance on tradition just to read poetry in the woods seems very.. path to leftism to me. i feel like i can explain better with the original dead poets so ill do that.

warning: this isnt even speculation at this point, its me making shit up about the og poets for the sake of projection + i think it would be interesting + og poets being taught ww2 propaganda is smthn im always thinking abt. if u dont agree, thats more than fine, u have literally no obligation to esp considering this barely makes sense. also this isnt meant to be informative at all so if i get shit wrong then lmk, im neither a historian nor an expert in leftism.

to specify off the bat, ive always hced keating as an avid and involved leftist, although probably not publicly. is there any merit to this? absolutely not, it's entirely just me projecting, so take this with a heaping spoonful of salt.

so, around the time the original dead poets society was formed, we were in the sorta beginning of WW2 (if we assume the dps was founded in 1941, definitely couldve been later. u should read @pencileraser1's post about keating.), and if ur familiar with US history, propaganda surrounding the war was RAMPANT, most commonly in the form of "we want u to join the military!!!!1!!!!" ive mentioned this in a previous post from however long ago that pro-military propaganda was so rampant that they often taught it in schools, no doubt especially so in private schools. now this could ultimately mean nothing in relation to the og poets, they so easily could have eaten it up and thought nothing of it, they did essentially just do homework in the woods. but in my joe biden's america ass brain thats not how it goes, just cuz. to me its sort of a pipeline of start to rebel by forming the dps > slowly realise after talking that the things theyre teaching u in terms of "rahhhh military!!!" is kinda fucked up > growing distrust of us military in general > something something US wasting money on weapons and war and shit > something something anti capitalism.

is this a stretch? absolutely, but it makes sense to me so thats what matters. also the leftist-ness?? exists on different spectrums in my mind, ranging from being against US military propaganda being taught in class to straight-up socialism (keating socialist...) so definitely dont take this as the dps being some sort of mini socialist party, in my mind its just a group of boys who happen to agree abt some aspects of society (hah). i also dont think this translated to any permanent ideals for a majority of the og boys, especially since anti-capitalism didn't exactly mix well with the cold war, the red scare, and all variants of etc after WW2 ended. except for keating, keating stays a socialist, CPUSA and eventual SDS keating (if he chose to stay in the US) are real to me.

now, would this translate to the reprisal of the dead poets (the movie ones)? i doooont think so? originally i was gonna say this only applies in my mind when the US is at war, but the US is kinda always at war, sooooooo. lets just say it applies when the US being at war is sort of a main concern to the general population (ex both world wars, vietnam, war on terror if welton was still around, etc). as to why this sorta hc only applies concerning militarism? i have absolutely no idea, probably something to do with my views on the military sorta long term leading me to my political opinions. but also! the effects that the red scare and mccarthyism definitely were still prevalent in 1959 despite soooooorta dying down around 1957. no doubt the US population's fear of anti-capitalism = ur a russian spy was still there. was that sorta thing taught in schools at that point? not sure, this is also a fictional school so it doesn't really matter and im going on a tangent. i suppose if the dps reprise continued for more than ~3 months then they could've gone down a similar path under the right circumstances? but i doubt it. although leftist neil is quite special to me. neil for SAG! neil for unionisation!

i like applying this logic to other periods, like the 60s for example (i knowwww keating was gone by then, lets just pretend, make it an au i guess) i can definitely see the poets (or some at least) delving into the hippie movement on the down-low, although its easy to call into question whether hippies were an actual group of activists or just a sort of cultural movement. again - i dont know much about the history of hippies so i dont have much to add, lets go with a general "anti vietnam war" ideology to keep things simple. sorta similar to the og poets in terms of war bad > socialism pipelines, and the SDS was formed roughly around this time? peak was in 1968-69, but thats kinda all i got. if anyone enjoys this idea and knows a lot abt that point in leftist history then definitely feel free to add anything on if u want.

in conclusion: mona hates war and the military and projects it onto the poets because they wanted to and also they had a conversation with tristan about propaganda in relation to dps. this is a bunch of random sorta points just strewn together so my apologies for how messy this is.

bonus: FANTASTIC point by @lookingglasswolf

[powderblueblood]

YES! NO! OKAY! I DUNNO!

ronnie and eddie volunteer at the hawkins high carnival to start their senior year off wrong right. wc: 2.4k warnings: eh, none. swearing. era-typical misogyny and shit. ronnie ecker gay as hell. was this inspired by the opening scene of bottoms (2023)? maybe! mind your business! requested by the lovely @joejoequinnquinn

“The thing is, man, when Ms. Kelley calls, you answer.” Ronnie shrugs through a mouthful of kettle corn and Eddie can almost hear the like Ghostbusters! She doesn’t even need to say it. 

“Kelley did not call you, first of all–”

“--well, no, we met at the market. Which is way more intimate, if you think about it. Romantic.”

“Second of all, this is a total fucking betrayal of your anti-school spirit ethos.” Eddie, with his wound cloud of cotton candy stuck in a cone, gesticulates wildly. Dude’s even scaring away the flies that might dare land on it. "What, you’re all pep squad now because you gotta nosebone some teachers into giving you scholarship recommendation letters? Volunteering for the fucking carnival?” His hands go up, a makeshift bandleader for the jaunty circus soundtrack that twinkles through the humid September air. “What’s next, the Young Republicans?” 

Ronnie’s whole face crushes in disgust. As per usual, she’s overestimated his perception in these matters. Dumbdumb is totally missing the point. 

“Edweiner,” she says, adjusting the strap of her overalls, “What I think you’re failing to essentially recognize here is the fact that–look around!--there are girls here.”

Damn fuckin’ skippy. Cheerleaders, nerd girls, regular girls, artsy girls, band girls, chess club girls, girls all wearing marginally hipper clothing than they usually would. Because the Hawkins High school carnival is prime hunting ground for hookups. 

Not that Ronnie's looking for any such thing, but it doesn't hurt to see how the other half live.

“Yyyyeah, girls that have spent the last four years ignoring u–” 

Okay, ixnay. Ronnie cuts Eddie off right at the knees, shoving a full palm into his face.

“Mmmm, glass half full me for a hot sec,” y’know, god knows what brought this optimism on for Ronnie. Maybe her job directing lowly freshmen toward the gaming booths, maybe it’s the kettle corn that kind of tastes like carpet, but she’s rolling with it, “These are girls that are still in fuck-it-it’s-summer mode. Girls that are entering their senior year of high school. Girls, okay, girls who may have finally realized that the social hierarchies of Hawkins are total bullshit and want to start off their year with a bang.”

She and Eddie stop in their tracks, identical brown eyes staring each other down. 

“A finger bang,” Ronnie encourages.

Eddie blinks, slow and spacey, like a cow.

“Fruuuhm you.”

Again, with Eddie’s shaking of the fucking cotton candy. There’s a wasp trapped in there right now. “Are you fucking high right now? Are you insane?”

“Technically, yes!” Ronnie can smoke and bike, it’s fine. “Hereditarily, jury’s still out!” Eddie sorta cringes at that one, and she smirks. “See, I can make those jokes, because of the loopy mom of it all. You can’t make those jokes.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Cue disheartened shrug. ”But. Y’know. We can leave.” 

Her metalhead comrade grimaces, Reeboks kicking through the grass as a bunch of freshmen scatter in his path. 

Ronnie sighs real big. “We can leave… if you’re too chicken to stay.”

Pump the fuckin’ breaks. Ronnie keeps walking a few paces, intentionally leaving Eddie in her dust.

“Ronald James.”

And then she pivots. All that’s missing is Ennio Morricone playing from the heavens. Or the PA, whatever.

“Edward… ward.”

Eddie squints, his heavy brown knitting furiously. “You just call me a chicken?”

And Ronnie shrugs, cool as crushed ice. “If it walks and it buh-kawks.”

Scoff. Scoff. Scoff. Eddie’s whole torso is wracking with scoffs, he’s like a courtesan dying of consumption with scoffs, he’s about to keel over with scoffs, he quite simply can’t believe–

“Quit hawkin’ up hairballs and square up, pardner!” Ronnie yells. 

Enough with the theatrics! It’s like clicking in a seatbelt, the way their competitive nature with each other activates. Just add chicken and they are off, Eddie flinging his cotton candy to the wayside, the sticky mess hitting a nearby kid. The two of them jostle through the carnival, tracking on up to the sad-looking shooting gallery that’s being manned by one of their greasier classmates that neither of them recognise. Eddie, that big-handed buffoon, beats Ronnie to the punch of slamming down his fluorescent green tickets. 

“Hi! I’d like to shoot to kill, please,” he booms. 

The kid just stares at him, shifting to the left. “‘kay. Whatever. It’s three turns.”

Ronnie rolls her eyes as Eddie slams the pellet rifle into his shoulder– she’s seen his hand-eye coordination, alright? It sucks dick, the dude can barely walk in a straight line. It’s a miracle he can play guitar at all! 

Ptew! The first of the little tin duckies barely makes it away with its life, narrowly avoiding a blow to the head from Munson. Ptew! Second one, not so lucky. 

Eddie, roving around with the rifle for his final victim, yells to Ronnie. “Looks like havin’ a dad with a rap sheet pays off, Ron!”

Ptew! Third and final. Eddie’s face peels back into that terrifier of a grin that’s like, okay, calm down, Bozo the Clown.

“Pfff… beginner’s luck,” Ronnie tuts.  

“Like you’ve ever even held a gun before,” Eddie says and pivots back to the kid manning the booth, who’s passing him his prize. “Hold on, nonono, gimme that bear. The like, the zebra print one. With the fuck me eyes.”

The volunteer carnie doesn’t budge. “You only hit two. The bears are if you hit three. You win green Papa Smurf if you get two.” 

And gingerly, Eddie accepts the little off-brand Smurf. Where do they get this shit? Does it fall off the back of the same truck that carries Bev’s off-brand liquor at The Hideout or what?

Whatever, Ronnie grabs the rifle from him and settles it against her shoulder. She can already hear Eddie tutting like, there’s no way and don’t embarrass yourself, Ron, but the thing is–ptew!--you don’t get to be as good of a drummer as Ronnie Ecker–ptew!--without learning a little precision. 

Ptew!

“What?” she shrugs to an open-mouthed Munson as the pimply kid passes her a big ol’ overstuffed bear, with the fuck me eyes painted on and all (weird feature. Ronnie might regret having this in her bedroom later on), “Like it’s hard?”

Eddie huffs, because that’s a boy that hates to be shown up even if he spends so much of his loser ass time being shown up. But, it’s usually not by Ronnie, so! 

They keep movin’ through the fair, like that old folk song goes, two heat seeking missiles looking to outdo each other. Ring toss? Piss. Cornhole? Are you fucking kidding me? Balloon darts– okay, so they maybe blew their wad a little early by going straight to the gun range but there’s gotta be something… 

Then, Ronnie spots it, because it’s all flailing and water and choking and drama and shit. 

Dunk tank.

She yanks Eddie over by the collar. 

Whoever the poor sucker was that they’d been dunking made an extremely dramatic exit. Ronnie overhears something about, ‘What do you mean, you never asked him if he could swim!’ squawked from the irate mouth of one Nancy Wheeler. Because of course she’s involved in cruise directing this, somehow. Like, where does she get the time? How does she have even a minute gap in her schedule for this? How can someone look so pretty when she’s stressed? 

Then, next thing Ronnie knows, ol’ Blue Eyes Wheeler is walking towards them. Orbs of azure all ringed apologetic and Ronnie’s rooted to the ground, she can’t move, she can’t think– 

–and naturally, Nancy’s looking at Eddie.

“I would usually never, never ask this…”

“He’ll do it.” She says it without hesitation, without thinking, without considering Eddie, like, at all. 

Which naturally makes him bark, “I’ll do what?!”

“Be the dunkee. Be the dunked man,” Ronnie hisses, eyes flicking from a confused Nancy to an enraged Eddie. 

“Oh god, would you? Please?” Nancy asks, almost begging– and look, the girl knows how to turn on the charm. She might not be Eddie’s type, not in eight million bajillion lightyears, but it’s near impossible to say no to her. “You can swim, right?”

“And it’s just about time for his yearly bath! So! Heh!” Ronnie gasps a little too loud for her own good, earning a gravitational pull back from Nancy and Eddie. No? No giggles for that one? Fine.

Eddie just shakes his head, sour expression immovable because he knows there’s no saying no to this– it’s for charity. A dumb charity he doesn’t care about, sure, but it’s for charity and also a girl is asking him and also he is determined to not look chicken. Ronnie knows this. It’s why she keeps winning.

“Yeah, Wheeler, I’ve been known to doggy– hold this,” and Eddie pushes green Papa Smurf into Ronnie’s chest, peeling off his jacket on the ascent to the dunk tank. 

Nancy lingers by Ronnie a second, resting her forehead against her clipboard. 

“Oh, thank god. We might actually make our donation target–like, everybody’s gonna want to drown him.”

A beat. Nancy raises her permed head, glances toward Ronnie.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“You did.”

“Sorry.”

“Eh, I get it.”

Nancy flutters on by, muttering something like a thanks and a good luck and an I really hope he can swim. 

Now, to his credit, Eddie makes for a pretty great picture of defiance as he straddles the plank, still fully dressed in his Hellfire shirt (Ronnie’d call nerd, if she wasn’t also wearing hers) and his shredded up jeans. Then it occurs to her that he may not have completely disrobed because he’s not wearing underwear. And that’s disgusting. Moving on.

Ronnie lets him have it, for a while anyway. Nancy was onto something– an alarmingly hefty line of would-be dunkers start to gather, everyone from cheerleaders to underclassmen trying to prove something. Not to side with the idea of gender conformity or whatever, but the couple of cheerleaders that step up to the mark don’t quite throw hard enough to hit. The sophomore that follows them is thrown off his game immediately when Eddie pretend-lunges at him, devil horns at the ready. 

Gareth, their newest freshman recruit and Ronnie’s personal drum mentee, sidles up beside the tank to hype up his fearless (pffft) leader. 

“Doin’ pretty good up there, Eddie!”

Loud enough for Ronnie to hear, Eddie hollers, “Piece of fuckin’ cake, freshman…” 

“Gareth…” he mumbles.

“...I’m gonna be bone dry ‘til the end of this shift.”

Well, y’know, so like, he asked for it. 

Ronnie tosses their hard won stuffies to the side and elbows a couple of basketball players out of the way. Cue watch it, freak!, yadda yadda, who cares, give her the ball!

“That’s what the last girl who hooked up with you said, right?” Ronnie bats to Eddie, stretching her arms above her head like a pitcher. 

If she’s not mistaken, he’s relieved to see that she’s cut the basketball boys (who’ve got much more experience tossing balls than she does) out of the way. 

“Ecker, I’ve seen you in gym class! You throw like an amputee! Bring it!”

Again, he asked. So Ronnie goes ahead and winds up. 

Eddie, in all of his your ass should have learned by now have you not been watching do you not see the signs ego, turns to Gareth. 

“See, Ronnie doesn’t seem like much of a girl but she does throw like o–”

Boom! And the metalheads goes down into the murky depths, not unlike Gareth’s DnD character that Eddie so mercilessly merked at the last Hellfire session. Ronnie doesn’t hold back a cackle, seeing Eddie resurfacing like a drowned river rat and spluttering. 

“Ffflfpfpfl! Fluke! That was a flu–” he jabs a finger through the mesh to something behind Ronnie’s head, “Wheeler, that was a fluke throw!” 

“Is he floating? Oh, good.” Oh. Nancy’s back. Nancy’s back and she’s watching Ronnie. Oh. Oh that’s… Ronnie makes the grave error of glancing over her shoulder to see Nancy grinning, clipboard bound to her chest. “She’s got two more to prove it, Eddie.” 

“Just take the–” Eddie struggles to make it back to the plank, sodden clothes and all that shit, “Just take the ball because she’s not gonna get–”

Bullseye! See, that’s how you don’t choke in front of a pretty girl and all the rest of your classmates, dude, you just wind it up and get it done! Ronnie’s buzzing with a touch more adrenaline now, and it’s going straight to her mouth. 

“Come again, water boy?!”

“Water boy?” Eddie babbles once he floats upward again, struggling under the weight of, I don’t know, his waterlogged hair to straddle first position.

“‘Cuz you’re wet.”

“Not your best. Not your b–”

Not even a full sentence out and Ronnie’s put him back under again. Hello. Why has she never tried out for softball. Would that be too obvious. This is kind of making her wacky, a little.

“What was that, Munson? Whawassat?” Ronnie stomps as the poor bastard tending to this wretched machine helps a soggy Eddie back onto dry land. “Couldn’t hear you over the sound of women’s rights! Can I hear it for women’s rights?! … Ladies?” 

Zero response. Crickets. Nancy Wheeler’s even disappeared. 

Scooping up their stuffed creatures, Ronnie’s shoulders sag– and she narrowly gets out of the way of Eddie, who’s racing towards her, helicoptering his soaked hair. 

“Don’t be– don’t be shaking your Lassie locks at me like some damn dog! Jesus Christ… my sweater.”

“My apologies to the Gap by way of the Salvation Army,” Eddie sneers, draping a towel over his head as he struggles to put his shoes on. 

“One more?” Because Ronnie’s nothing if not sympathetic, alright? Dude’s drenched. She'll let him win this one.

Squelching, Eddie nods. And just like that, to their left, shining like a beacon with a trail of suckers lined up outside…

“One more… to prove we’re not…” …staffed by a multitude of cute-as-a-button beauties…

“We’re not chicken…” …glowing with the radiant halos of fuck it, it’s summer, fuck it, it’s my senior year…

The Kissing Booth. 

Ronnie and Eddie each wear a thousand yard stare. 

Eddie, for reasons pertaining to freakdom and Ronnie, also that, but jacked up to a degree of potential social pariah. God, could you imagine? Could you imagine if she had the nerve to go completely fuck it, completely hetero-nuclear and march on up there with her dollars in quarters dug out of the couch and be like, Yeah, Tina Burton. Lay one on me. Oh, you’re switching shifts? Oh, that’s okay, I can wait… And who is that? Nancy Wheeler? Well, hell! Isn’t it just my gay lucky day!

Because Ronnie can imagine. Is imagining. 

“But I'm… I’m kinda cold.” In truth, Eddie’s kinda turning blue. That September chill is starting to set in, finally… so it’s back to the parking lot they go. 

“And I’m kinda hungry. You shouldn’t kiss people when you’re hungry, right?”

“No, that’s how they discovered cannibalism.”

“Right. So let’s–”

“--Big Boy Burger?”

“For the big boys, yep.”

[kaiasky]

I'm glad the honorable man post is well received but i wish I had let it cook a little longer, like I don't think "mutuals" or "worth a follow" is the correct equivalent for "honorable man" and it kinda weakens it a lot. i was playing with like 'a respected mutual-in-law' (too long but has the sorta 'why do my fucking mutuals put this prick on my dash' sense. (ILY mutuals-in-law i don't actually think this about you)) or 'very committed to social justice' (has the right sense of 'if this is honorable to do to a man, then what is honor?' but feels like it'd read as very anti-sjw if you don't know me) and idk. i think it needed some more editing time, but also if I'd had time to edit it I probably wouldn't have ended up posting it

(rly this is the curse about my writing is that if i try to make it good i don't end up finishing it)