#cement alternatives
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Unlocking the Future: Geopolymers Revolutionizing Construction
In an era where sustainability and innovation are paramount, the world of construction materials is witnessing a paradigm shift. Geopolymers, a class of materials that have been gaining traction in recent years, are emerging as a promising alternative to traditional cement-based products. With their potential to reduce carbon emissions, enhance durability, and provide versatile applications,âŠ
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#3d printing#Additive Manufacturing#alternative materials#cement alternatives#construction innovation#cost competitiveness#Durability#environmental impact#Geopolymer concrete#Geopolymers#high performance materials#industry standards#Infrastructure Rehabilitation#infrastructure resilience#low carbon footprint#Material Optimization#public awareness#soil stabilization#Sustainable Construction#sustainable supply chain#versatile applications#waste management
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Love the idea of Kae painstakingly learning Hilichurian, at first bc he figured it was another skill under his belt then bc talking with them made him curious abt them and their origin
#hc; kaeya#//And then learning they used to be Khaenriâahn from Dain or the Traveller; or even some other source heckin CEMENTED it to him#//Talks to them in Hilichurl; tries to see if they can understand him in Khaenriâahn#//If they could; he would actually end up cryingâand anyone who knows him; knows THAT is genuinely Serious#//Would try to figure out alternate ways to handle hilichurls around Mond if he could; but itâs tough when everyoneâs so set in their ways#//Tries to relocate and tend to as many Hilichurl related commissions as he can to minimize any harm btw human and Hilichurl#//Is prolly another contributing factor why heâd fall in the Abyss verse#//Despairing over their situation then realizing there IS a way to help them; he would latch onto it in a heartbeat#//Perhaps still doubt and be wary; but make him for sure more open to working with the Abyss if only for a Solution#//Only to get Got and mildly mindbroken if he talks to the Sinner/keeps such frequent exposure to Abyss energy#//The latter esp; dude just damn near being driven mad like Clothar the more he harnesses and is entrenched in it#//idk thinking bc i thinks itâs so funny he went as far as to write Venti a threat in Hilichurl that one event lololol
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idk, i just think that (to a point) Everyone's a product of the media they consume. that's why certain media is called 'formative', esp if you watched it young. one thing you watched/read couldâve lead to an interest which couldâve gotten you to learn/participate in/avoid something you wouldnât have otherwise. take away all the books youâve read, movies youâve watched, music you've listened to, etc etc- youâre likely a totally different person. which is neither good nor bad, that's just called being a person who lives on planet earth.
#if i went back in time to middle school and made it so twilight wasn't on hold and i finally read at the age of 11#pretty sure i could've become a twilight fan (opening a whole new branch of who i could turn out to be)#or how i was This Close to becoming a directioner (and i probably would've been a whole new person due to that)#or how i only got into doctor who because i was recommended hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy (my first real intro to scifi books)#and without that i probably wouldn't have stayed on tumblr (which i only made bc of my interest in animation (more media consumption lol))#bc it's the who in superwholock that cemented my desire to make an account#or if i hadn't thought the violin looked cool bc i saw it in a movie then i wouldn'tve joined orchestra in 6th grade#(and then discovered i hated orchestra so then i joined band. and then i was offered the choice of baritone or sax and i chose baritone)#and marching band (which i later joined) defined all 4 years of my high school#something that straight up would not have happened if i hadn't thought a violin player looked cool in a movie i saw as a kid#boom! butterfly effect!#so who am i without all these experiences bc of the media i consumed? idk. if they exist in an alternate timeline#without any of the things that make me Me#that's a stranger for all intents and purposes#rambles
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The discord invite link has been taken off of the website and off of here. We do not feel like we have the mental capacity to properly moderate a group as large as that is, and want to at least stop the growth before getting completely overwhelmed.
#It's primarily from that fight from a few days ago.#Really has cemented in our head that we have alternate means of users talking to us#and maybe that's just better for our sanity
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#tech demo - Cole's vc#This song always runs through my head as I'm playing the violent revolution in dbh#More importantly though check out how it sounds when Cole sings it#I keep picturing this scene where Cole is persuaded to sing in some public place where there are a bunch of unawakened androids#This song is already in his database so it takes almost no time for him to choose it and begin#He starts kind of low and quiet because he's nervous and really doesn't want to do this#But his voice steadily grows in volume and intensity as some androids stop what they're doing to listen#One by one they wake up and abandon their masters to gather round#They even begin to sing along as the chorus is repeated twice#By this point Cole's voice is BOOMING through the area for all to hear#The crowd claps and cheers at what seems like the end of the song#But then Cole does an encore with the alternate chorus#Firmly cementing a message of hope into the newly awakened#And that's where the vision ends#I just realized I could've put all of this in the actual post. Whoops.#Youtube
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Something I didnât actually realize until I was making Hitaâs bracers in October (and probably is why theyâre my first hot-glue fueled project that stuck together) is that apparently for really sturdy hot glueâs, like gorilla brand stuff, there is actually certain heat settings youâre supposed to administer for it to stick correctly to different substances. Like fabric and foam required low heat only.
And it was the first time Iâd made armor with hot glue and had it actually bond, Iâd say almost permanently. I could rip it apart if I was really fucking trying, but itâs impossible to get apart unless youâre trying on purpose to break them.
#Iâm grateful because my eldest brother is a big crafty guy#like a . I print iron on vinyl in complicated shapes out of my cricket and glue them to coffee mugs to give you for Christmas#kinda crafty#and he gave me a high end hot glue gun for Christmas when I was 16 so I can wield those glues that require a specific temp#which. unfortunately usually work better#it sucks there isnât a cheap way to make hot glue behave like contact cement because itâs a good alternative#but yeah if you have heat settings on your glue gun#pay attention to what your glue says will work for what substance#Walt cosplays#cosplay tips I guess#I notice a lot of people just kinda fire up their hot glue gun with whatever glue poles they have laying around#to insane temperatures#because the cheaper ones donât have temp dials (I know I started with a cheap one)#and those insane temperatures might be great for like. bonding plastic or metal maybe#but leather and fabric and foam want the low low heat like. just melting the glue heat
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I had a conversation with my chiropractor today about coyotes. It started with the North Shore, ravens, and wolves, but then switched to coyotes. (I was a wreck physically, and he was doing muscle work on my back, neck and shoulders before even trying to do adjustments, so we were chatting a bit). We were talking about how resilient they are, and how they can live in all sorts of environments, rural and urban.
Then the chiropractor, who is a trans man, went, "Huh. Maybe I should start using coyotes to help explain how trans people can be found anywhere and how we're resilient against a lot of hate and tries to exterminate us."
I totally agreed with him.
#ignore me#or not#cuz I think coyotes are cool#and trans folks are cool#I also know chiropractors are a bit sus in terms of alternative medicines#but this chiro does do muscle work /targeted deep tissue massage before adjusting so it is probably more than the adjustments that do good#he also gets me a discount on custom orthotics for my shoes which do help a lot with working on cement floors all day#anyway#go read Coyote America and learn and appreciate coyotes
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Tigers Jaw, Stereo, Glasgow
April 11th 2018
by Keir OâDonnell
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last year i started trying to write an article where i documented every reported instance of psych abuse that happened in 2023 that i could find and had to stop halfway through because it was so fucking horrific. and that was only the shit that had been reported, that i could find in databases and in local news articles. the numbers and stories of psych abuse were staggering and what was worse is that i knew it was only a fraction of the actual abuse that happened that year, and that the actual number was so much worse. And even in just that fraction of news articles, in the half the states I searched for: there were dozens of deaths. Over a hundred different reported instances of rape. Over 300 different reported instances of illegal use of restraint and seclusion.
And i just keep thinking, over and over again, about how that is just a fraction of the reality. It is almost impossible to report psych abuse as it's happening when you're locked up in a psych facility where you don't have independent access to a phone, you can get cut off from your friends and family, and your access to a "grievance and reporting process" depends entirely on the same people who are abusing you. Even after you get out, there are so many barriers. It is very, very difficult to get anyone to believe you as a credible witness once you get certain things written in your chart. Psych staff can point to your diagnoses, their documentation, and say a million fucking things to get away with abuse.
and sometimes it feels like no one gives a shit besides other psych survivors, other mad/mentally ill/neurodivergent/disabled people. this is the same shit that happened in asylums, that happened in the "reformed" institutions of the 50s, that happened in group homes, that happens in psych wards, that happens in residential treatment. it hasn't fucked changed--it's just gotten new names, hiding behind the labels of "evidence based care" and "least restrictive alternative." when i really start to think about it, i get so fucking angry and full of grief for everyone i love who is still fucking locked up in these places. it just cements my determination to never shut up about this because we need to look out for each other and take care of each other, and i do not take my freedom to even be out here and advocating for granted.
#personal#psych abolition#antipsych#survivingpsych#mad liberation#psych abuse tw#this shit makes me so mad.#and forever and always what is at the core of that rage is so much fucking love for so many people who deserve#much better. than to be discarded to a cruel system
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Ë°đ·ïž àŁȘđ€ đđŒđ·đ¶'đ đłđźđđŒđđżđ¶đđČ đ»đźđ»đ»đ Ë°đ·ïžđ€
: ÌÌâ tropes: fem! reader đ„ minors do not interact đ„ unprotected sex đ„ single dad x nanny đ„ porn with plot đ„ banter đ„ alternate universe đ„ praise đ„ shower sex đ„ bj đ„ certified pussy eater đ„ daddy issues đ„ dirty talking đ„ small pillow talk đ„ nsfw đ„ smut
: ÌÌâ words: 2.7k
: ÌÌâ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, donât hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, commentâwhatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
âAfter the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.â
With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.
The jingle of keys echoed through the air.Â
Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. âHe asleep?â
âThe dragon story always knocks him out cold.â You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. âLong day?âÂ
âToo fucking long.â He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. âOne of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.âÂ
âOh, Iâm sorry, Mr. Zenin.â Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. âWith tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.â
Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. âAlways appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.âÂ
âHey, babysitting is my job.â
He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. âMy paycheck isnât gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? Iâll double it to make up for it.âÂ
âNah, youâre good. I can wait. Megumiâs my favourite little client.â You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. âJesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.âÂ
âCut me some slack, kid.âÂ
âIâm twenty-two. Not a kid.âÂ
âIf youâre younger than meââhe jabbed his fork in your directionââyouâre still a kid. Capiche?âÂ
âEating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,â you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. âWell, Iâll see you Monday evening, then.âÂ
âLeaving so soon?âÂ
You quirked a brow and raised your phone. âItâs ten in the evening.âÂ
âThatâs early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?âÂ
Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldnât be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.
âDonât say I didnât warn you.â You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.  Â
âYour feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,â he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow.Â
âThanks,â you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. âWhat?âÂ
âYou always had a mole there?â He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin.Â
âIâm offended that youâve just noticed now.âÂ
He finished chewing. âYou donât tie your hair up often.âÂ
âWould you like me to?â You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.
âI like your hair down,â he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. âBut maybe not while weâre eating. Donât want them getting dirty.âÂ
You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.
âOh for fuckâs sake,â Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. âEver thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?âÂ
âNo, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.âÂ
Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. âWho?âÂ
âJust a boy from my class,â you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. âHeâs cute, sure. Plus, heâs a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.â
Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. âIf thatâs what youâre into.â
âYou say it like youâre an expert on my taste.â
âIâve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone whoâd go for a poster boy.âÂ
âThen who do you think Iâd go for?â you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. âSince you seem to have me all figured out.â
Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. âMaybe I havenât gotten to know you well enough.â He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth.Â
With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.
As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Tojiâs pulse quickened. âIâm an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.â You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. âHave a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.âÂ
Tojiâs gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.
Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled.Â
âHeâs made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,â you whispered. âUnless you donât want me sharing pasta with him like itâs a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.âÂ
âGod, that fucking mouth of yours.â A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Tojiâs grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours.Â
He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.
Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. âI smelled like shit, yeah?âÂ
You shrugged. âCement, but close enough.âÂ
âSince you know it all, youâre gonna help me clean it off.â He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Youâd waited a whole year for this.Â
Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.
âYou good?â he whispered, palming the side of your head.Â
âSo good.â You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.
Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.
The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look.Â
âYouâre fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,â Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stallâs glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. âYou've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?âÂ
âI happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.âÂ
âBaby, theyâre ugly.âÂ
You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick.Â
He stopped immediately.Â
âWhatâs wrong, Mr. Zenin?â Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. âCat got your cock?â He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. âFuck my throat until I canât speak for a week.âÂ
Toji snapped.Â
He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. âHoly fuck, baby. Youâre so good at taking my cock.â Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. âFucking look at me, you little slut.â He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth.Â
You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up.Â
Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. âWas I too hard on you, doll?âÂ
You nodded but raised a thumbs up. âFantastic.â Probably the best blow-job youâve ever givenâeven if Toji was mostly in control.Â
His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. âTurn around. Itâs my turn to eat.âÂ
Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. âJesus. Youâre so fucking tight. No oneâs been in this pussy before, baby?âÂ
âA few,â you said. âBut they were smaller.âÂ
Toji curled his fingers inside of you. âA dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Donât you, doll?â You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. âTell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cockâs size?âÂ
âY-Yesâah.â You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. âFuck, Tojiâoh, fuck. Faster.â He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry.Â
âShut the fuck up,â he hissed in your ear. âCan you do that for me, doll?â You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. âMy pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.â He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole.Â
You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you werenât gonna complain. Youâve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood.Â
âMy dickâs gonna break off if I donât put it in now.â He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. âReady, doll?âÂ
âFuck me, Toji. Please.âÂ
He could get off on your begging alone.Â
His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove inârepeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasnât going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldnât sit down for days.Â
Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldnât leave him for weeks. Months. Years. Youâd be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage.Â
Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating yourâhisâpussy.Â
âIâm gonna come inside you,â he breathed out over your swollen lips.Â
âDo it.âÂ
Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations.Â
 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another.Â
Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked.Â
The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed.Â
Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night.Â
âSpend the weekend with me,â he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. âWeâll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.âÂ
âYeah?â You pecked his nose. âWeâll look like a little family.ïżœïżœïżœÂ
âThat little shit already considers you his mother.âÂ
You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. âMaybe another time. Collegeâs been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.âÂ
Toji found himself desolated. âCanât you just study here?âÂ
âNot with two babies whining and crying for my attention.âÂ
He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately.Â
âBut I can come over in the evening,â you said. âWe can go out for ice-cream.â
He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. âIce-cream it is.âÂ
You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. âGoodnight, Mr. Zenin.âÂ
âGoodnight, doll.â He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night.Â
Toji smiled.Â
#zaraswriting#jjk x y/n#toji smut#toji x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jjk toji x reader#jjk toji smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw smut#tw sex mention#fem reader#jjk fluff#toji fluff#jujutsu toji#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen
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A sustainable alternative to Portland cement for corrosive applications?
Cyrill Grengg is head of the CD lab at TU Graz, Austria (image credit: Lunghammer â TU Graz) Sustainably produced concrete mixtures from mineral residues and waste materials could partially replace Portland cement-based concrete in the future, especially in application environments prone to corrosion such as sewage systems, biowaste plants or tunnel drainage systems. Cyrill Grengg from theâŠ
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Instead of burning fossil fuels to reach the temperatures needed to smelt steel and cook cement, scientists in Switzerland want to use heat from the sun. The proof-of-concept study uses synthetic quartz to trap solar energy at temperatures over 1,000°C (1,832°F), demonstrating the methodâs potential role in providing clean energy for carbon-intensive industries. A paper on the research was published on May 15 in the journal Device.[...]
Glass, steel, cement, and ceramics are at the very heart of modern civilization, essential for building everything from car engines to skyscrapers. However, manufacturing these materials demands temperatures over 1,000°C and relies heavily on burning fossil fuels for heat. These industries account for about 25% of global energy consumption. Researchers have explored a clean-energy alternative using solar receivers, which concentrate and build heat with thousands of sun-tracking mirrors. However, this technology has difficulties transferring solar energy efficiently above 1,000°C.
To boost the efficiency of solar receivers, Casati turned to semitransparent materials such as quartz, which can trap sunlightâa phenomenon called the thermal-trap effect. The team crafted a thermal-trapping device by attaching a synthetic quartz rod to an opaque silicon disk as an energy absorber. When they exposed the device to an energy flux equivalent to the light coming from 136 suns, the absorber plate reached 1,050°C (1,922°F), whereas the other end of the quartz rod remained at 600°C (1,112°F).
âPrevious research has only managed to demonstrate the thermal-trap effect up to 170°C (338°F),â says Casati. âOur research showed that solar thermal trapping works not just at low temperatures, but well above 1,000°C. This is crucial to show its potential for real-world industrial applications.â
Using a heat transfer model, the team also simulated the quartzâs thermal-trapping efficiency under different conditions. The model showed that thermal trapping achieves the target temperature at lower concentrations with the same performance, or at higher thermal efficiency for equal concentration. For example, a state-of-the-art (unshielded) receiver has an efficiency of 40% at 1,200°C, with a concentration of 500 suns. The receiver shielded with 300 mm of quartz achieves 70% efficiency at the same temperature and concentration. The unshielded receiver requires at least 1,000 suns of concentration for comparable performance.
17 May 24
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Trips to See the In-Laws (LS2)
Summary: In order to save his teammate from an interviewer with not so innocent thoughts, Alex has to reveal that his thought-to-be-single friend, Logan, is actually in a long term relationship.
âAlex, Logan, so wonderful to have you both here with me today. Now that we are rapidly approaching the first race of the season, how are you both feeling? How was both your breaks?â
âWell firstly, thank you for having us. It has honestly been crazy. Break has gone by fast and with all the training weâve been doing, I honestly feel ready to just jump in the car and start back up.â Logan replies.
It was no secret that Logan Sargeant had been training much more during the off season, everyone had seen how much he had changed. The way the interviewer was staring at him though, as if he was their next meal, was making him shift uncomfortably in the seat.Â
Alex, being as perceptive as ever, immediately saw the change in Loganâs demeanor. He was confused by it until he saw how the interviewer shifted closer to Logan, eyeing him up and down in a very flirtatious manner. He then chimed in to try and alleviate the tension. âYeah, busy break but we have been putting in the work and I think we are both ready for this upcoming season.â
âYou both look very different from the start of last year. Alex with your hair and Logan has gotten very, very fit.â Dammit, this interviewer really wasnât going to let it go, Alex thought.
âUm yeah, we are both pretty different looks wise.â Alex weakly responded. What was he supposed to say, the interviewer didnât exactly ask a question.
âI was in a pretty bad state at the end of last season, both mentally and physically. I worked really hard this off season to improve both of those things and gained 5 kilos. I feel much better now that I am at a more healthy weight and I think it just cements how much more learning and growing I needed last year.â God, how can the interviewer continue to try and eye fuck Logan while he gives such a sincere and vulnerable answer, Alex wonders. He knew he needed to help his teammate and friend in some way, but the idea that came to mind might have some consequences. But surely it was better than the alternative of letting Logan get harassed.
âWell Logan, you took some time to travel a bit since being here in New Yorkâ Alex teased.
âOhhh, where did you go Logan?â the interviewer asked, intrigued at the blush on Loganâs face that had appeared as he picked up on where Alex was trying to go with this.
âWell actually, my girlfriend is originally from New york and still has family that live outside the city so they very kindly invited me to visit them and watch the Superbowl. She wasnât too happy that I got to see her family while she is stuck in London but also was ecstatic that they clearly like me enough to invite me to visit even when she isnât with me. It was sweet and such a kind gesture, definitely beats spending that night watching the game in a hotel room alone.â
âHey, I would have watched with you. You wouldn't have been aloneâ Alex said, offended.
âMate, you did not have any actual interest in watching the game.â Logan responded.
âBut I still would have kept you company.âÂ
Before the two could continue their fight, the interviewer bursted out a very aggressively asked âGirlfriend?â
The two were quiet then, not knowing what to say. The interviewer wasnât looking at Logan like a piece of meat anymore, but now he had to deal with this sudden hard launch of his relationship.
âUh yeah, I have been in a relationship for a while now. Met my girlfriend when I moved to London. We lived in the same apartment and had moved in around the same time. Insane luck, I guess.â Logan answered, still blushing.
âLeave it to Logan to find the one other American in his apartment complex and immediately start dating her.â Alex teased.
âHey! It was a coincidence and she is from New York while Iâm from Florida, they are practically two different countries.â
âYeah whatever.â Alex rolled his eyes playfully.
The interviewer, now upset at practically getting rejected, stopped asking questions and just watched as the two Willaims drivers took over the interview, rambling, and teasing each other, till it was time to end it.
The interview had immediately gained popularity once it had been posted. Not many drivers hard launch the way Logan did and while Logan hadn't anticipated that this was how his relationship was found out, he did have to thank Alex for getting him out of that situation.
logansargeant
liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 73,355 others
logansargeant My favorite New Yorker đ
#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#logan sargeant x reader#ls2 x reader#ls2 imagine#alex albon x reader
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Lost
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: It's not the first time you've plummeted into another timeline. It is the first time in years that you've met a Deadpool still doing the anti-hero (vigilante?) thing. And unfortunately for you, you're stuck with him.
Content Tags: DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS! I'm being so serious, this entire series is going to be stock-full of spoilers for that movie. Some mentions of blood, lots of cursing (as expected). No use of Y/N
A/N: I promise I'm working on stuff, work just has had me super busy the last few weeks (months if I'm being more honest) and school is coming up soon for me :(. Anyways. I wanna lick Logans abs. This is hopefully gonna be a slow burn ;)
(p.s. lmk if you wanna be added to a tag list in the future)
(p.p.s. this is mostly story building with a tad bit of plot)
(p.p.p.s. i'm trying to write in a less past tense style, forgive if that changes throughout the story, im so fuckin delirious)
Itâs jarring. Every single time it happens is so jarring. Itâs almost like getting whiplashed with how hard you are pulled backwards and then your stomach drops; it feels as though youâre falling. The same sensation you get right before you fall asleep, like your body canât tell if youâre still alive. Â
Youâve never been thrown so forcefully out of it. Usually you land, stumbling on your feet. This time, though, youâre thrown onto your back. Your skull cracks against the pavement underneath you and it feels like all the air has been forced out of your body. Â
âFuuuuck,â it feels pushed out of your body, your chest heaving in short gasps. Rolling onto your side, all you can see in front of you is the street. Whatever Earth youâve landed on, it doesnât seem like itâs good. Â
Thereâs blood splattered everywhere, cars and buses are on their sides or flipped over. Glass is scattered on the streets. Maybe you just arrived right after the battle of New York, maybe this world has been abandoned. Â
You struggle to your feet, stumbling and catching yourself before standing fully upright. You can feel the warmth of some blood on your back before the skin reconnects, leaving behind the burn of cement rash. Â
Behind you, thereâs panting. Itâs heavy and sounds almost wet. Turning, you look at two men who were behind you.Â
âOh, youâve got to be fucking kidding me,â Â
...Â
You tried walking away. Removing yourself from the situation like the adult you were, but no. It wasnât working. You never got more than a few feet away from the two before being teleported back within their range. Â
The two men, Deadpool and the poor Wolverine stuck with him, just watched for some time. Deadpool was oddly quiet through most of it, although you can almost hear the monologue in his thoughts, his head following as you walked in different directions before snapping to where you appeared. Dogpool, the ugly thing, sat in the arms of its alternate person just panting heavily. It never stopped panting. Â
You huff angrily, throwing your back against the wall right next to Wade. Crossing your arms, you look down at Mary Puppins sitting in his arms. She went cross eyed while looking up at you, staring blankly at the wall next to you and yourself. Â
âWho shit in your biscuit this morning?â Wade asks you, head tilting slightly. You have to brace yourself and breathe deeply to make sure you donât roll your eyes. You never realized how thankful you were that your home Earths Deadpool ended up in the void before you even knew what abilities you had. Â
Glancing down at him with just your eyes, you find that he still hasnât looked away. âWhoever the hell sent me here, thatâs who,â you respond. Thereâs pain in your voice, you can hear up, but also the utter annoyance that most Deadpool's just bring. âDidnât know the Wolverine on this world was still alive,â you nod your head towards Logan like youâre gesturing to him. Â
Itâs quiet. Youâve somehow silenced Wade Wilson, the merc with a mouth. You watch his chest expand in a deep inhale and it caves back in as he exhales deeply. Â
âHe isnât,â and your brows furrow. Other than the TVA, you donât know any other casual dimension jumper. Even they were a stretch, you know, they didnât deserve to be able to do that. Â Somehow, they were able to master it. You think he can see the confusion on your face as your eyes flit back and forth between them. Loganâs still eating whatever it is he had in his hand. âThe TVA,â he takes a breath, and you have to interrupt.Â
âWhy did they bring him here?â You shake your head, brows furrowing further. Â
Wade shifts his head side to side. âThey didnât bring him here, sunshine,â his voice perks up. âI did,â and he has the widest smile on his face that doesnât quite reach his eyes. Â
âI donât,â you pause and rub your face, looking down at the ground. âI donât even wanna know why or how,â Â
ââCause I'm Marvel Jesus,â is his quick quip back. He stands suddenly, his back popping and cracking as he stretches himself. âAlrighty, Peanut, letâs get going home,â he says to Logan (maybe it was to Mary Puppins, youâve got no idea), and thereâs a little pep in his step. âCâmon puppy!â Wade calls and you get yanked again and appear just a few feet ahead of him. Â
With a roll of his eyes, Logan stands and tosses his food off to the side. âIâm going to go figure things out on my own,â he says. Turning away, you watch as Logan walks off from the two of you and you hope to whatever being is out there that you get pulled along with him, but he isnât able to make it more than a few steps before Wade starts talking again.Â
âOh no you donât! Iâve waited far too long for this meetup!â Wade calls out, and you see Logan stop in his tracks. His shoulders slump, almost like heâs struggling with a decision heâs about to make. âBlind Al isnât all sheâs cocained up to be, we need a third in our little house of horrors,â he snickers a little.Â
Youâre really hoping it doesnât last forever, but when you finally make the trek to Wades apartment that feeling almost vanishes (almost). Itâs homey, although the apartment itself is small and cramped with two people already there. Youâve met a few Als before, but only a small number of them werenât blind.Â
It was only in passing though. You could recognize that woman anywhere. Her eyes were always a striking feature, and the few who werenât blind always carried this sort of knowledge within them as they followed you when you walked by them. Â
This Al seemed sweet, although listening to Wade tell you about her was a little odd. You couldnât fully tell if he was joking about her being able to see cocaine, but thereâs been worse youâve interacted with. Â
Speaking of worse, Logan would not let you out of his sight at all thus far. You could feel his eyes boring down on your back the entire walk to the apartment, and even when you got inside and completely ignored everything Wade was saying (a lot of it was just telling you and Logan about the apartment and what to not touch, oddly enough) he would not let you leave his sight. Â
Even just checking out what type of T.V this world had to offer left you with his stare. You begin to browse their small selection of DVDâs when you finally speak up.Â
âMight wanna take a picture,â it was quiet, but you knew he could hear you. âItâll last you longer,â but there was no response. Usually, it was the Bucky Barnes of the Earth that had the staring problem, it had never been the Wolverines. Â
They always made their problems with you obvious. Theyâd never pulled this type of behavior, and it was strange. For the first time in years, you had someone act strange and you couldnât figure out how to go about confronting it. Â
âWhoâre you?â Logan finally spoke up, quieting Wade in the middle of his rant. Â
You swallow thickly. âIâm not the person you think I am,â and you cringe internally. It always sounded dumb when you said it, but you never knew what else to say. Who knows if thereâs another you in this world, or maybe even Logans. âWhoever I am, or was, to you? Thatâs not who I am,â but youâd never met another one of you. Â
Thereâs the thud of glass on wood, it's thick and thereâs no way that it isnât a beer bottle. Â âIâve never met you in my life. Have you?â Assuming he was talking to Wade, you turn as best as you can while still crouched in front of the TV to look at him. Â
Heâs shrugging, opening his mouth for a response before Logan beats him to it. âWhat the hell is it that you can do, anyways? Are you a mutant? Or just another fucked up creation by a government?â You bark a laugh. Â
âIâm just one of Godâs fucked up mistakes, thatâs what,â and you look down with a sigh, shaking your head. âI really donât know. My world didnât have mutants, not like others do. It was always some botched work done by doctors in basements,â Wade looks appalled. Â
His eyes find some spot on the wall, and he smiles at it. âItâs like looking into a mirror. Although a lot less ballsackey and not as interesting,â you have to shake your head. Â
Logan clears his throat. âWhat do you mean, your world didnât have mutants,â you smile at him. Â
âMy timeline doesnât exist anymore,â Â
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#no use of y/n#mary puppins#wade wilson#deadpool#deadpool and wolverin spoilers!!#hey siri is there a tag about those Hawaiian rolls hugh jackman has?#story building#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#slow burn#i've been working on this for almost four days now#im so delirious send help#logan brain rot
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taste
pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
summary: matt just wants a taste.
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
a/n: itâs thanksgiving here today, and despite my mixed feelings about this holiday, I am thankful for all of yâall. so, hereâs a little treat from me to you bc I havenât shown our favorite human disaster some love in awhile. đ€
word count: 1.1k
Matt lost track of how long heâd had his head buried between your thighs. Your hair was still damp from your shower earlier, fresh notes of citrus and green apple lingering on the silk sheets. That coupled with the crisp sandalwood of his own cologne from the worn Columbia shirt of his you had stolen to bed intertwined with your own distinct scent lit a fire of desire within him. Heâd discarded a layer of his black suit with every silent step he took descending the staircase that led up to the rooftop door.
It had been a bad night, and Mattâs inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.
On his knees.
Matt held your soft thighs in his rough, calloused hands, his warm tongue lazily tumbling over your swollen clit over and over again. He slipped his tongue through your soaked folds much like he had the first time he had really kissed you; when a sweet kiss good night had ended with your back firmly pressed up against your front door and the two of you panting into each other's mouths.
Angelic pleas for mercy had sounded from your lips in various intervals, but your greedy fingers continued to tug him just a little closer by tight grips on his chestnut strands. Neither one of you seemed to be able to quit the other. Mattâs nose was nuzzled against your public bone, and his plump lips were wrapped around your clit, alternating between suckling languidly at a pace that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and dragging his tongue up and down the length of your entire pussy meticulously.
Every time you let out a desperate chant of his name and rolled your hips up in a needy way in search of more, Matt groaned loudly and moved his own hips in tandem. He had been rutting against the mattress for God only knows how long now, the front of his briefs completely soaked from the weeping slit on the head of his throbbing cock. Heâd never been so painfully hard in his life.
But Matt didnât feel like he had earned a release yet.
Despite the several tangy coats of your arousal on his tongue, he wanted more. He needed just a little more.
Just one more, he told himself, then heâd finally let himself fuck you. But right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be. Face nestled against your pussy, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his welcoming tongue, smelling the scent that was uniquely you right under his nose, hearing the verbal reassurances of how much you needed him, and how badly you wanted him.
Praises of his name and confessions of love slowly lifted the self imposed weight that laid heavy on his chest like cement. If an angel like you believed the Devil deserved Heaven, then maybe he did. You didnât ask for his penance, but he wanted to give it. He wanted to be worthy of being the man you made him feel like he was.
Matt ignored the ache in his jaw, and he whimpered against your core as his briefs snagged against the sensitive head of his cock just right. He wasnât gonna last long. Not with the heavenly aroma of you surrounding his senses completely, the sweet sound of your pleasure hitting his ears, the thrum of your impending climax thundering against his tongue.
He never wanted to come up for air. If this was how he was going to die, drowning in the tidal wave of your gratification, then heâd die a happy man.
Matt used his index and middle finger to spread your slicked pussy apart, eagerly swirling his tongue around your pulsing nub before switching to flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across it like a metronome. God, you were so warm and soft, and so fucking wet. He couldnât tell where his saliva ended and where your own essence started, but he didnât fucking care. The only taste he wanted seared into his taste buds was yours anyway.
He delved his tongue as deep within your cunt as he could, fucking you with it sensually while his nose bumped against your overstimulated clit repeatedly. You were close again. He could tell by the hitch in your breaths and the quiver in your soft thighs that were enclosed tightly around his head.
Matt never felt like he deserved you, so he made it his personal mission to make sure he earned you.
As soon as another wave of your candied tang drenched his mouth and dripped down his stubbled chin, Matt exploded with a pathetic whimper, feeling his own sticky warmth coating his lower abdomen and the tops of his thighs. The only reason he pulled his face away from your cunt was because you weakly pushed at his shoulders with your trembling hands.
âFuckfuckfuckâŠMattyâŠI canât. I-God, I need a minute-â
The breathless pants sounding from your lips were an elegant symphony to his ears. He closed his eyes while resting his head on your smooth thigh, trying to catch his own breath. For several minutes neither of you said anything, just laid there tangled up in the sheets together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.
All of a sudden, Matt sensed a shift in you. He heard your eyes flutter open, and felt the way you shifted your head off the pillow to peer down at him in curiosity.
âMattyâŠdidâŠdid you-â
âYeah.â
He didnât bother hiding it. He wasnât ashamed. Heâd be pissed when the cloud of lust currently fogging up his brain eventually cleared and he realized he ruined yet another set of silk sheets, but right now, he was too satisfied to give a shit about anything other than this moment with you.
A melodic giggle immediately erupted from your chest, and Matt squeezed your thigh teasingly in retaliation which caused you to squeal.
âHey! I wasnât making fun of you. Itâs actually quite flattering that you enjoy having your head between my thighs so much that you can come from that alone.â
âSweetheart, you could make me come just by reading our grocery list.â
Another round of angelic giggles fell from your lips, and a quiet whine of disapproval sounded from Matt when he felt you shifting in bed. Much to his dismay, you moved your soft and warm thigh away from under his head, which caused him to purse his plush lips in a pout. But before he could even protest, you were gently pushing him onto his back and brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.
âMaybe Iâll test that theory later, but right now, Iâd rather make you come with my mouth in a different way.â
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @thyme-in-a-bubble @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock blurb#matt murdock smut#daredevil#daredevil blurb#daredevil smut
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â WHY AM I IN LOVE ALONE? (WHY AM I HURTING ALONE?) â
Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst with comfort | unrequited love, ex-cheater!Gojo, arranged marriage | wc: 8.5 k | not proofread
warnings: character death (Geto Suguru), mentions of infidelity, r! has self-esteem issues, r! has some dark thoughts about su!c!de, mentions of parent death, abuse from parents (r! is from an influential sorcerer clan, his family kinda sucks), talks of virginity
masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's
authors note: there are some time skips here and there, hopefully, it isnât too confusing! I really appreciate all the comments on the first part of this and I hope this satisfies you guys!
The flame of the candle casts the room in an evershifting blue. Pulsing and moving, pushing and pulling as the shadows undulated. It resembles the way sunlight dances on the waves of the ocean, piercing through the waters to reach as far down as it could.
It reminded you of â
Of summer.
The candle flickers, sparks of orange briefly flying, just as your father walks through the door of cement. It takes five men to push but they do so without complaint. Your eyes squint to protect themselves from the fluorescent lighting of the hallway and the flame burns upwards in the offence.
The men hastily pull the door closed. Your ears itch from the grinding noise of stone and your skin warms from the candle but you say nothing.
Your father kneels across from you. Unbothered by the still-furious flame.
The candle is the only barrier between you. It sits on top of cylindrical stone; the melted wax nearly covers the top, some dripping down the sides but youâve never seen this candle shrinking or the flame dimming.
The room youâre in is one of great importance to your family. It was taller than it was wide. Dark as sin without this cursed flame. The (L/N) family nearly fell into ruins some century ago, a member of your clan decided to turn this room into a place where no secrets would be safe, so youâd have no enemies.
After he had done this, your clan flourished.
It served its purpose. No lies could be told in this room.
âIs Gojo Satoru in love with you?â
The flame calms from its fury. As if listening.
âYes.â
Sparks of orange fly, shooting from the wick and pathetically fizzing out. His eyes darken, swallowing that gorgeous blue like a black hole.
âSo your mother speaks truthfully.â
He had hoped it was just mindless gossip â misplaced anger from his own infidelity. Your father was never one to admit your mother was right.
âGeto Suguru.â
His name makes you turn your eyes down to your lap. Your fatherâs frown deepens. Further settling into permanent lines of displeasure on his ageing face.
âMy son, born of the (L/N) clan, promised to marry Gojo Satoru. A six-eye user, soon-to-be head of the Gojo clan. My son who had centuries of ancestors fought to put him in this position of power with a strong family name, riches and opportunities beyond belief.â
âBested by a boy whose parents arenât even curse users.â
That haunting blue burns steadily.
âThis is your duty, as son of the (L/N) clan.â
âFather, how could I compete with Geto Suguru â â
Your father reaches through the flames and grabs your face. The skin of his arm reddens as the flame roars at the disrespect. It licks at your eyebrow, your eyes, your cheeks. It burns. Though not like a regular flame would. It doesn't eat away at your flesh and render the fat past that â the flame hisses, digs under your flesh, and sets your nerves ablaze.
The pain is white hot and you swear you burst a vein in an attempt to grit your teeth together. It's like you're burning from the inside out, your skull heating up and glowing from where your skin is stretched thinnest.
You've been through this time and time again but the pain never dulls. It pries your lips open and a strangled wail is ripped from your throat.
Your face is held so tightly your cheekbones feel as though one more gram of pressure would shatter it. His face splits through the fire as he scowls down at you.
âI will not let the decision of a 15-year-old boy destroy what Iâve tried so hard to build. This is bigger than you ever will be. Your marriage to Gojo Satoru will make our clan more powerful than ever.â
You weep as you nod your head while nails dig into the flesh of your thighs. He lets you go, pushing your face away from his hand as if he was tossing trash away. You back away, hands shakily hovering above where your skin feels as though it's sizzling. Like you always do, you lean on the wall and the cool wall is like heaven.
The flame calms just as your heart does, at times it is as though it pulses with the beating in your chest.
In those minutes, your father stays stoic.
âLove is worthless in matters of power. The things I ask you to do will strengthen our clan, and strengthen our abilities. Put your selfishness aside, boy. This is a debt you owe to your flesh and blood.â
â...Yes, father.â
âWhy do people stay with someone like that?â Megumi scoffs from behind the couch. Heâs dressed in his pajamas, hair still damp from the shower he took. Meanwhile, you were sitting watching the television, dressed for bed yourself.
âI think it's sweet,â you say. The series was truly ridiculous and overly dramatized. Some cheesy and soapy drama that plays at night when lonely adults need someone elseâs problems to obsess over.
âHe stays with her even with all her flaws.â Megumiâs face says more than he ever could. You laugh, beckoning him over to settle next to you.
This is the usual. Gojo is always busy with missions here and there. Sometimes even needing to get onto a plane - he could be gone for days at a time. Leaving you, Tsumiki and Megumi.
Well, just you and Megumi now.
He doesnât react as you squeeze him a little closer, just tucking his legs comfortably to lean on you.
âOkay, but that doesnât negate the fact that sheâs hurt him. I mean, itâs honorable but â isnât he tired? I mean, she slept with his dad. Twice!â
You chuckle, grabbing the towel he had slung over his shoulders to help him dry his hair.
âYou were paying attention! I thought you hated this show,â Megumi rolls his eyes. âHow can I not pay attention? Itâs so stupid I canât look away.â
âPlease. Just admit you like watching shitty tv shows,â you tease.
âI really donât,â he denies. Megumi shrinks a bit despite his words and you chuckle. The dialogue from the TV continues and Megumi relishes the ambience.
The way you gently dry his hair. The dumb characters talk about who slept with whom and what impossible surgeries they wanna do. The lingering scent of the takeout dinner you indulged in with him today. Your shampoo and body soap and the smell of the detergent you use help him sleep easier at night.
âIs it the same for you?â
He feels your fingers pause. Not frightfully, more confused. He continues as your movement does.
âYouâre like this doctor. You stay even if he hurts you.â
âWhat are you talking about? Gojoâs never hurt me,â your tone was perplexed.
âIâm not blind," Megumi mumbles. You pull your hands away from Megumi, his towel now on your lap as you wait for him to turn around. He does.
Then a commercial plays, something about a new aquarium thatâs just opened; it casts the living room in blue and your heart gets caught in your throat.
â Itâs not the same, â you tell yourself, â Iâm not my father. â
âWhatever gave you that impression?â
âYou rarely call him by his name. You stay up when heâs here but turn in early when heâs not. You go to clan meetings alone but he brings you around everywhere when heâs here. Dates, gifts, compliments.â
Megumi shrinks under your gaze but meets your eyes unwaveringly.
âEvery time you look like youâre about to smile at his jokes you just...pause and remind yourself about something...is it Geto?â
Megumi inhales sharply at the expression on your face. The commercial had come and gone and the next that plays is a stream of constant colour; chaotic and disarrayed. The red-orange and yellow make you look like a curse.
But then your eyes soften and his grip on his knees loosens.
âI â I saw a picture.â
There are pictures of Geto in the house. Gojo said he would be fine without it but you found it ridiculous how much hurt he thinks heâs saving you from. You were already brought to your knees and metaphorically beaten down by the man you love and the man he loved; your best friends.
A picture of the four of you in high school wasnât going to make you less or more pained.
Megumiâs asked about Geto before. But not like this; not like he knows something he shouldnât. Geto wasnât a forbidden topic.
But.
Your children deserved better than that. They should believe that love is important and that their fathers are there for them through whatever it is. That Satoru and (Y/N) were not going to just disappear and leave them to fend for themselves.
âOn his flipphone.â
Of course.
Of course he kept that useless piece of crap.
Of fucking course.
âThe wallpaper was of them. They seemed closer than friends. Did Gojo hurt you because of Geto?â
âDespite his flaws, heâs still my husband, Megumi.â
That doesnât satisfy your son. His brows twitch and he gets that defiant look in his eyes that makes your stomach twist into knots. The ghost of that man, Megumiâs biological father, always sweeps through your brain every time he gets so stubborn.
You donât hate Megumi because of it. Gods know how much you wish you werenât a (L/N) â you wouldnât have chosen your parents. Your mother, absolutely. Your father could go rot in hell with his new wife.
âBut youâre unhappy.â
âIâm not â â
The trailer of a movie plays; it casts the room in orange for a brief few seconds.
âYou are. Youâre lying. Iâm not a little kid anymore, Iâd be fine if you...if you divorced Gojo, I donât mind if you move out. If youâd let me, Iâd stay over. A kid from my school has divorced parents, he seems fine. He said it made his parents happier.â
âMegumi â â
âI can take it. You donât have to stay together for Tsumiki and me anymore. Youâve raised us well.â
Not well enough if heâs pleading for you to leave Gojo.
âYouâre just a boy. You donât know what youâre saying. I think the TV show is really starting to get to you,â you jest. Megumiâs never been one for jokes though. Especially not ones as dumb as yours. Your awkward grin falls and you sigh.
âIt wasnât because of Geto. Suguru and Satoru...â
Megumiâs ears prick. He could count on his hands the number of times youâve uttered Gojoâs name. Each time, itâs said with such bitter longing. The rotten essence of first love and cruel summers dripped from every syllable. This time, however, thereâs a softness to it, an emotion Megumi would later know as yearning.
âThey were the strongest and they were inseparable. With Suguru, Satoru could just be. With Satoru, Suguru felt worthy.â
âI was,â you sucked in a breath. âI was...there. Yes, it hurt me but I love Satoru, Megumi.â
How could you not?
Those heavenly eyes and boyish grin. His lips seem painted by the angels and his hair spun from those impossible-to-reach clouds and the purest of light. Satoru was beyond beautiful.
He was funny, brash, and annoyingly persistent. His very existence was irritating to some; he was good at everything. His hands were like Midas, everything he touched turned into gold.
Nonetheless, he was human. You would know better than most. When Suguru left Satoru looked like a facade of a young god. Thatâs what Suguru did to him that you never could. Suguru made him human.
So you didnât blame Satoru for falling in love. You couldnât even blame Suguru for falling in love.
You were an obligation chosen out of his own comfort. (Y/N), his precious friend whom heâd marry once the two of you were 17 years old.
You were duty and honor. You were a reminder of his godhood. He was untouchable and ethereal; even so, he wanted nothing more than to fall into the arms of the one person who could make him unravel his soul. He held Suguru more preciously as you aged until he couldnât anymore.
âI love him.â
âBut youâre sad. He makes you...sad.â
It pained you to see Megumi try to understand. He was your son. This talk of a loveless marriage and divorce, him saying he would be fine with the aftermath as if he would have to carry responsibility for it.
He was just a boy. He was your boy and heâs trying to protect you when it should be the other way around.
So you shake your head and reach forward to cup his cheek in your palm.
âI still love him, Megumi. Sometimes, thatâs enough.â
Megumi wants to tell you it isnât.
If love was enough, his mother would be alive and his shitty father would have stayed to be a father to Tsumiki and him.
If love was enough, Tsumiki wouldnât be in a coma.
But he says nothing and just shrugs. He murmurs a half-assed agreement and then stands from the couch. He goes to bed that night, wishing nothing more than to see the world from your eyes. You were his father. More than his own was.
Gojo was a busy guy so he warmed up to you first. Despite how tough it was for you to navigate being a teenager yourself as you raised him and his sister.
He just wanted to make you happy. Because clearly, you were incapable of doing it.
Megumi found it hard to sleep that night.
âAwh, asleep already?â Gojo frowned as he peeked into Megumiâs room. He was supposed to arrive the next morning but he missed his family. So he took an earlier flight.
A creak made him look your way and his eyes widened.
âDonât bother him, Gojo.â
â(Y/N)âŠâ his footsteps sound tentative as he walks towards you.
âDonât look at me like that, I was just watching a sad movie is all. Megumi stayed up late, so donât wake him. Heâs got school tomorrow.â
Gojo doesnât believe you. The way heâs gazing at you is as if you were the most pathetic curse to have ever graced the earth. Had he ever looked at Suguru that way before his betrayal?
Gods, even the thought of him has your brain pulsing. Those lost summers and cozy winters were yours too but of course, for Satoru, it mustâve been different.
To you, they were everything because your friends were there. More importantly, Gojo was there.
To him, his Suguru, they were all they needed.
You wipe away some of the tears, sniffling and turning away from Gojo. âYou came home early. I didnât cook dinner tonight, but I can heat-up some leftovers,â Gojo follows you to the dining area. He wants to ask if you are okay, even if he already knows the answer.
â Is it Suguru? â
Itâs on the tip of his tongue. Itâs been 9 years since his betrayal, your mother's funeral, your father's wedding. Between Tsumiki and Megumi, and the missions there was never a chance to have that conversation.
But what if it wasnât? You were more than that. You existed beyond the shadow that Suguru cast â in Gojoâs eyes anyway.
The microwave dings and it casts the kitchen in a warm yellow glow. âHow was the mission?â He watches you make a plate, standing near the kitchen island with his arms by his side. âIt went great. The uh, the plane ride there was sorta bumpy though.â
âYeah? You got scared or sumthinâ?â He takes his bandages off, eyes twinkling with something you canât quite place.
â Heâs making jokes, talking casually, â Satoru thinks. His palms feel a bit clammy. âHah, as if. Even if the plane was fallinâ Iâd definitely get out of there,â he boasts with that careless smile.
You offer a chuckle, turning just as your smile fades into a polite purse of your lips. The plate is placed in front of him and heâs not hungry but he sits anyway.
Huh.
So this is what having an intimate dinner is supposed to feel like? It creeps in that youâve never been on a date outside of this marriage. He had never wooed you before Geto. It was all casual and friendly. Even if it was just the two of you, your guardians would keep watch to ensure that nothing got too passionate.
Where were they when Gojo snuck into Getoâs room? Night after night, week after week...
He had never touched you like that. Every time he tried, you found yourself pushing him away. Not out of bashfulness or lack of attraction. You just canât help but wonder if heâll replace you with Geto in his mind and your heart breaks every time.
9 years of marriage and still, your bed was cold as ice.
At times you would feel panic, wondering if Gojo is with another body to fill that void that you canât fill but then it ebbs away.
Because they werenât Geto either. So they were just as meaningless as you.
You grimace.
To think youâd blush and swoon at the idea of your marriage. Enamoured at the fact Gojo chose you. Now here you are. A resentful friend, a horrid husband, and a failing father.
If it werenât for Tsumiki and Megumi you wouldâve been hanging from the ceiling or perhaps youâd âlet your guard downâ during a mission. Maybe even in front of your husband. Your train of thought is cut short as your motherâs face appears. Stiffening your lip, you turn your gaze to the table to collect yourself.
Gojo watches you shifting around and reaches a foot forward to bump into yours. He smiles at the way you get wide-eyed, frozen for a second.
âHow was your day, my beloved?â
âI went to Jujutsu High to oversee Megumiâs transfer,â his brows lift.
âAlready?â
âJust to make things easier, Gojo. So it isnât so last minute. He practised summoning his Divine Dogs today too.â
Youâre wringing your hands together, folding and unfolding your fingers all while glancing at the table. It reminds him of the day he found out you had feelings for him.
You were sat across from him just like you are now. The both of you were 15 and hungry, so you offered to pay for lunch. Suguru and Shoko had gone off to grab condiments and he saw it; that look of adoration in your eyes.
You were handsome and kind. A true friend to him, Suguru and Shoko. Then an idea popped into his head, an idea heâd never proceeded with if he had known the repercussions.
If he wed you, heâd still be able to be close to Suguru.
He was selfish. Suguru told him that it was cruel, you were their friend and this would hurt you.
âSatoru thatâs cool-blooded. Heâs had a crush on you for a year now, you shouldnât,â Suguru murmurs.
âItâs just a crush, heâll probably divorce me or something. Then, Iâll marry you, Suguru.â He interlaced his fingers with Suguru. Naked shoulder pressed to naked shoulder. His 16th had just passed, heâd have to marry you after his 17th birthday but itâs alright. He told himself you would get the message and heâd have Suguru. Duties fulfilled and promises honored.
âWhat?â Suguruâs eyes were so wide it was almost hilarious. Satoru turned on his side, outlining the traces his lips left on Suguruâs skin.
âWill you marry me, Suguru?â
Satoruâs guilt wraps around his heart with its sorrowful roots. He wonders if you think youâre ugly, or unworthy. His fondness for you wants nothing more than to hold you. You were his friend after all, before all of this; the missions the four of you would go on together were the highlights of his life.
He didnât mean to hurt you.
The food tastes like ash in his mouth but he swallows it down.
âWe should go out tomorrow.â
You blink at him, contemplating. He can see the tearstains on your skin, the wetness on your philtrum that youâve tried to wipe away and the way your lashes are clumped together.
âAnywhere you wanna go, after we drop âGumi off weâll be off to the races. We could go shopping or ââ
âI want to go on a mission with you.â
That catches him completely off guard. You offer a grin, and the slightest flash of teeth has Satoru nodding before you even get to say another word.
He owes you this. You deserve happiness.
âOf course, anything you want.â
Gojo shouldâve stopped there. Said nothing else.
âI love you, (Y/N).â
All at once, he sees your eyes turn hollow and your smile tightens.
You donât believe him.
â...Thank you, Gojo.â
Ever since, thatâs the only way you responded to his âI love youâsâ.
Thanking him for trying to convince you and himself that it was true.
Megumiâs never seen your father before. He looks so out of place at home. His hulking form and intimidating face were so rough like unpolished stone. He should be elsewhere, not eavesdropping like he is now but he canât help himself.
Gojo had to tend to business and you couldnât turn away your father. You knew what he was here to talk about anyway and after last night's screaming match with your husband, you were as tightly wound as a coiled snake.
âHow is your wife, father?â
âShe is healthy.â
A vein bulges from the side of your head, rage pumping through it as your jaw clenches. His gaze scrutinizes you in such an obvious way it makes you want nothing more than to exorcise him.
âGojo Satoru killed Geto Suguru. Is this true?â
How could it not be true? You thought bitterly. My guilt, Gojoâs crying, my outburst â all proof of his death.
He scoffs, a pleased quirk on the corner of his lips.
âI suppose youâve done well then, my son. You didnât even have to do any bloody work.â
âYou know nothing, father. Geto Suguruâs death was a tragedy, donât you dare turn it into a victory,â you seethe.
âHe was a troublemaker. A waste of breath â a weakling. He deserved all that he got, donât tell me youâre sympathizing with a murderer?â
âHe was my friend!â Megumi flinched as you yelled.
âIf you hadnât pushed me and Satoru to marry, all this pain would have been avoided. We would still be friends, I could grieve for him without bitterness in my heart!â
You have no more tears to give. Instead, your anger burned like an inferno, burning you from the inside as you glared at your father.
âYouâve ruined me just like you ruined my mother. Where is duty? Honour? All of that is just trampled by your greed! You are dishonorable! Disgusting! Selfish!â
âYou dare speak to me that way?â He lifts his hand and Megumi's palms hover close to stop him. The doors slide open. Satoru stands there. Even with his blindfold on, his gaze is heavy.
He calls your father's name. He doesnât hide his disrespect. No titles were shared. No acknowledgment of his relation to you. He was beyond mad.
âItâs best if you leave, old man.â
Your father lowers his hand and you realize your nails are digging into your palm as blood seeps through your fingers.
âThis younger generation truly knows no respect. Does it pain both of you to be together? Is my son so ugly, Satoru?â He laughs derisively. âPut a pillow over his face as you take him then! Gods knows I did the same with his mother.â
You open your mouth and yell, an ugly yell that's so full of anguish and anger; no words or vulgarity. A scream that makes Gojoâs throat hurt hearing it. Your father looks at you in disgust, shaking his head as he turns his back to you.
âPathetic.â
You lunge at him and Gojo stops you, gathering you into his arms as you try to reach for your father.
âIâll kill you!â
âBeloved, thatâs enough ââ
âYou monster! Iâll burn you alive!â
â(Y/N)! Heâs gone! Thatâs enough!â
Gojo doesnât know why but he lets his infinity down. He lets you dig your fingers in his shoulder, and scratch the back of his hands as he tries to gather your wrist and grunts as your head bumps into his.
âIâll kill him! Let me kill him!â
He grabs your wrists and pushes them against your chest. Youâre pinned to the wall and the more you struggle the more he presses on your chest. It forces you to take deep breaths, and for your brain to catch up with your body.
âHe should be the one thatâs dead! Not my mother! Not Suguru! Him! Why isnât he fucking dead!?â
Satoru canât help but think of those final moments with Suguru.
How ragged his breathing was as he leaned against the wall.
âAt least curse me a little at the very end.â
Suguruâs smile makes Satoru feel like a teenager again. He reaches forward and Suguru noses into his palm. Satoruâs breath comes out in a shudder. There he is, the man he loves more than anything, dying.
Suguru hums as Satoru leans over to hug him. Using the bit of strength he has left his head slots where it belong; in the junction of Satoruâs neck and shoulder. He remembers how ticklish he was there and manages a chuckle as Satoru flinches as his hair did just that.
He has so many things to say.
But he feels that wedding band and heâs glad that Satoru wonât be alone.
âYou went on a date with (Y/N) at the crepe restaurant, I could sense your curse energy.â His daughters had wanted to go there after and Suguru remembered how bittersweet it was to sit where the two of you had sat. He had imagined himself as you and heâs struck with the want to see you and Ieiri and â
âI should have married you.â
Suguruâs eyes water. âSatoru ââ
âAll I do is hurt him. You were right, Suguru. I was cruel. If I married you, we would all be happy. Your daughters and my children, theyâd be siblings. (Y/N) would have found someone who would never be as cruel as I am. We would still be friends. I shouldâve married you. I shouldâve married you.â
Suguru was selfish too. He resented you for having Gojo. It pained him to think about how lucky you were â he wished you misfortune.
What kind of friend does that?
Youâd met his parents. Spent birthdays together, and went through lessons and missions together. How could he resent you and love Satoru and Shoko so dearly?
âI chose my path, Satoru. But in another life...in another life, weâre all happy.â
Satoru feels Suguruâs lips press to his jaw.
âYou can make it right, Satoru. You love him, youâll know what to do. Just donât be so crass, yeah?â
Your yelling doesnât cease. Heâs half a mind to yell along with you because thereâs truth in your words.
Why is it that everyone that mattered wasnât here? Because theyâd hold you and tell you were alright. Your mother wouldâve done everything she could to ease your pain. Suguru would be here to do the same for both of you. What would they say if they were here?
What could they do to help you?
Help him?
Satoru lets you push him away. Megumi wonders if he should walk in now. Heâd never seen you like this. He takes one step forward and Satoru speaks.
âI want a divorce.â
A pin could drop and Megumi was sure it would sound like an explosion. Your chest heaving slows as Satoru watches you straighten your posture.
âDo you live to embarrass me, Satoru?â You can feel his infinity go back up.
âOr is it me that embarrassed you? Should I allow my father to mock Suguruâs death? What am I meant to have done? What could I do to satisfy you, husband?â
âThis marriage is hurting us.â
Your bark of laughter makes Satoruâs heart clench.
âA marriage YOU couldâve prevented. Did you forget that? Youâve had all the time to stop it. In those 3 years, you fucked Suguru and confessed your love to him. What exactly did you intend for my life?â You cross your arms, trying so hard to keep everything contained but your mouth canât stop itself.
âBecause I could have been fine. Maybe my father would have cast me aside but at least I would have moved on. Instead, you wormed yourself into my heart and infected me from the inside out.â
âYour mother just passed. I didnât want to cause you more pain by canceling our wedding ââ
Your palm doesnât strike him but that isnât with lack of trying. He can see the way your hands shake as you attempt to nullify his infinity. The trails of blood that drip down from your nails piercing through your palm from earlier. Your eyes were as dark as night as you stared at him with a blank expression.
âYou are dishonorable, Gojo Satoru. You are selfish, and you deserve nothing you have. Not me, not Megumi, not Tsumiki, not Ieiri and you sure as hell didnât deserve Suguru.â
He snaps at you. Slapping your hand away as he points a finger in your face.
âYou donât get to scream at me when I tried to make this marriage work! For 10 years all Iâve ever done was love you!â
âAll youâve ever done is bury Suguru by using me, Satoru!â
âOh, thatâs bullshit!â Megumi is frozen in place. He had never seen you fight before. Had never ever seen Gojo yell or lose his cool. He feels his heart hammering against his chest and clasps his hands together.
âEvery time I touch you, you pull away! Every time I kiss you, you flinch â Fuck! Do I repulse you?â
âYou donât get to be pissed about not being able to fuck me, Satoru.â
He takes off his blindfold and those cerulean eyes shine with fury.
âOf course I fucking do! You want to be the martyr so fucking badly and you did it, (Y/N)! Youâre the martyr!â
You donât let him poke his finger into your chest but despite your smacks, he touches you anyway. He grasps your wrist and his grip is so tight you can tell itâll bruise.
That horrifying blue sears your skin.
âI may be selfish but youâre fucking vindictive, (Y/N). You tell yourself that youâre nothing and somehow it comes true. Living, stewing, in a dead manâs shadow just so you can feel good about not returning my efforts!â
Just a few nights ago he was sweet. Telling you that he loves you and he wanted you. You never believed him and here was your proof, the labor of your hurt and pain stands before you with righteous ire.
âSo Iâm done! Iâm done.â You shake your head. He scoffs, letting you go as if he was tossing trash away.
â(Y/N) â â
âWeâll divorce next year. Next year on this day, Iâll allow you to divorce me. But not now. Not today. Call me a vindictive, vengeful, stubborn asshole. But what Iâll not allow you to do is humiliate me all over again.â
Satoru wants to say something, but the whine of an animal stops him.
When you find Megumi clutching the neck of his Divine Dog your anger disappears in an instant. He isnât crying though itâs obvious heâs simply holding it back. The dog's part as you reach to cup his face, whispering his name as he attempts to steel his expression.
â...Iâm so sorry, Megumi. Iâm so sorry you had to hear that.â
âItâs whatever,â he shrugs. Satoru sighs, combing his fingers through his hair as he crouches next to you.
âNo, itâs not. You shouldnât have to listen to that," Satoru sighs. âIâm old enough â â
You stop him by pulling him into a hug. Heâs stunned, his face would have been comical in any other situation so Satoru smiles.
âYouâre just a boy. Donât act so tough so soon,â Satoru reminds him.
The few things Satoru and you could relate to was how your children would never have to face the theft of their youth as long as you were alive. You squeeze him tighter and he returns it, burying his face into your shoulder.
Despite being pissed at Satoru, he says nothing as he feels him stroke his head.
The dogs whine again and nuzzle Satoru and you, licking Megumiâs ears and cheek to dissipate this acrid scent of fear and anxiety.
âCan I stay over with you sometimes?â You know what he actually wants to ask you.
â When you leave am I still allowed to need you? â
His shoulders sag in relief as you nod.
âYou donât even have to ask, Megumi. You know I love you, right? Iâll always love you, my beautiful son.â
âCouldnât have gotten a place with better Wi-Fi?â
Shoko glares minutely as you pluck her cigarette out of her mouth. You put it in yours and she gags at the indirect kiss which makes you roll your eyes.
âJust because youâre single doesnât mean Iâm interested, (Y/N),â you scoff and shove her shoulder. She stiffens on purpose but sways a bit. It makes you laugh.
The house you bought was a cute duplex penthouse. Something small for yourself and for Megumi when he slept over. Shoko was the only person to have seen it so far â other than Megumi of course.
Your divorce was months away but it was far too awkward to sleep on the same bed as Satoru after that fight. This was for the best; baby steps until youâre officially separated.
âHm, even if I was interested in women youâre not exactly my type.â She lights up another cigarette and leans on the railings of your balcony. Man, hate Satoru all you want but he sure was generous with his money. The view was stunning. It must have cost a fortune.
âSo. Youâre single now.â
You cringe and shrink down, limply holding the cigarette as you brace your chin on your arm.
âFor the first time in 13 years...â
â27 is a perfectly good age to fuck around. Not too old to scare anyone of a respectable age off but not too young to make people feel like a creep.â
âYouâve such a way with words, Shoko,â you mutter dryly.
âIâm just saying, sex is a great way to get your mind off of things.â
âSays who?â She laughs, turning to you with a cocked brow.
âSatoru may be the golden child of the sorcerer world but heâs not a sex god. His dick isnât that good, alright? Thereâs someone out there thatâll make you feel like a virgin again,â her laughter dies out as she takes note of your bashful eyes.
â...No.â
âWhat?â
Shoko's brows furrow. Itâs the most expressive sheâs ever been.
â10 years and not once?â
You hide your face further into your arms.
â(Y/N)!â
âOkay! We never had sex, alright? I â I donât know if he ever went to get his dick wet from somewhere or someone else. But me and him never fucked. Iâm an adult virgin! Sue me!â
âNot even a handjob?â
You groan, smushing the cigarette into the ashtray before going back inside. She follows, belatedly smushing her cigarette when you remind her with a look.
âOk â Okay, but do you want to be a virgin? Itâs perfectly reasonable if you do. Iâll respect your choices. But, why didnât you...?â
âShoko, every time he touched me...I felt like the ugliest person on this goddamn planet. We tried,â you sighed. âHe tried a few times. Never pushy, never forcing but no matter what fucking angle he approached it from. I just couldnât.â
Shoko slides her arm over your shoulder and you pliantly turn to return the hug. Her shirt, unsurprisingly, reeks of cigarettes but it brings a semblance of comfort. For a moment youâre washed over with nostalgia though for once, it comes with no pain.
âWell, youâre good-looking and you should definitely take half of Satoruâs money in the divorce. Youâre good with kids too, a definite catch,â she presses a kiss on your forehead and you accept it with a loose grin.
âYou deserve someone and if you donât want anyone thatâs fine too. Just promise to invite me out sometimes,â her eyebags suddenly seemed darker and so you give her another hug.
âI love you, Shoko.â
âI know. Unfortunately, I do too.â
âYou love me,â you tease as your fingers wiggle and she pushes your face away ruthlessly.
âHeavy emphasis on the unfortunately â tickle me and I wonât heal you.â
She lets you escape her grasps, flabbergasted at her statement.
Satoru twists the ring, the light that it catches shimmering bashfully at his attentiveness. His husband had moved out, Megumi decided to sleep over after a whole day of helping him settle in and Satoru didnât know how to feel about it. His hand feels naked and uncomfortable. The air that breezes lightly on the bare skin make gooseflesh ripple. The ring is enclosed by his fingers and he props his face on the fist, peering at the papers of this mission and that. The writing all look like giberrish, floating aimlessly in his brain as he thinks of (Y/N).
Had he truly never felt Satoruâs affections? It might have not been the love he deserved but to call it nothing was egregious. Or was he being selfish again?
Satoru pinches his nose bridge. His throat longs for the burn of alcohol which surprises him. He wasnât much of a drinker â he wasnât a happy drunk.
The ring grew warm in his hold and Satoru squeezed it. It always had the funniest way of doing that. It was as if it was alive, like a cursed object made to punish Satoru. Whenever his eyes wander or his mind reminisces of passionate nights, it burns and he resents himself for it. 10 years of involuntary celibacy was not something he thought of when he was younger. He liked sex. He doesnât know if it was because it was good or because it was with Suguru. Regardless, Satoru enjoyed it.
He thought that if you got over that hurdle in your relationship, the two of you could fall into sync. He knows he cares about you and he knows you love him.
The house was so quiet. Satoru wants nothing more than to hear your soft breathing, Megumiâs sleepy mumbles and Tsumikiâs shifting around in bed.
He was supposed to be the strongest so why couldnât he keep his family together?
Suguru told him that in another life they were all happy. But Satoru canât help but ask himself why not in this life?
His hand unfurls and he slips the ring back in place.
(Y/N) Gojo is a Grade 1 sorcerer with extraordinary skill and wit in battle. His face was crafted by angels with feather-light touches, ones that thumbed the furrows of his brow with a sense of melancholy and kissed his eyelids with love; Satoru did not deserve you. He didnât deserve to wake up with you by his side, caught by how beautiful you were when your guard was down.
Satoru suddenly wonders what made him unable to fall. It wasnât your personality, nor your voice. You were funny, intelligent, headstrong, resilient, and everything most men fantasized about. Was it him? Even with all his attempts, his sweet gestures and words, did you see through it?
Did you see him?
What was it that you saw?
A tall child craving for his favorite person to come back?
âŠWas it a pathetic sight, (Y/N)?
Did you heart bleed for him?
Satoru stands, slipping the mission papers back into their files.
His guilt is a willow tree you had planted within him, tended by his own hands and watered with your tears. Itâs beautiful and lonely, surrounded by flowers that climb and choke its branches as it hopes for someone to understand it.
You had. You understood the isolation he felt being on top and you supported him and got stronger to reach him. You saw right through him and he remained blind to you.
Shoko's name flashed across the screen of his phone. Satoru picks it up mindlessly, sitting on the end of your â his bed.
âYou better give him half of your belongings in the divorce,â she says. He hears the burn of the cigarette as she inhales.
âSuguru was my friend. Just as much as he was (Y/N)âs.â
Satoruâs brow twitched. âExcuse me?â
âSuguru. I was there, believe it or not, and so was (Y/N). Suguru was our friend, our brother, our Suguru. We grieve him every day. Even before he was dead, we grieved him. I donât fault you for being a shitty husband because of your grief, (Y/N) wasnât the best husband either.â
âDonât pretend to understand â â
âGet out of your head and stop mourning alone. All those years. When have you ever come to see me, Satoru? I was hurting too. â
She exhales, flicking the ashes away as Satoru covers his wet eyes.
"I fucked up, Shoko." That was an understatement of the decade. She glances at the night sky, watching the buildings breeze past.
"I fucked up."
âItadori Yuuji?â You squint your eyes at the papers, ignoring the warmth that Satoru emits from your side. You were at a clan meeting. One that Satoru decided to join so, you had no choice but to listen to him.
âSukunaâs vessel,â he tilts his head, scratching the back of his neck from the uncomfortable button-up you forced him into. If he wanted to annoy you, youâd gladly return the favor. It was a few sizes too tight and the tie you put around his neck choked him but, he acted as cool as a cucumber.
âThe boy Megumi found?â He nods and you read his papers with more fervor.
âYou fought Sukuna?â He smiles cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear as he spins in place.
âI won,â he cheers. It takes all your self-restraint not to throttle him. âThat was reckless,â you hissed out, ignoring the servants eyeing the both of you as they set down the trays of tea and finger foods.
âIâm the strongest. I wouldâve won anyways,â he peers over your shoulder to read through the report again.
âWhy are you showing me this? The higher-ups already called for his execution.â He places his chin on your shoulder. Your breath hitched yet, neither of you commented on it.
âI told them Iâd kill them if they executed Itadori Yuuji,â he faces you as you turn to glare at him. Your lips were centimeters apart. Satoru takes note of your racing heart.
âAre you insane?â
âHeâs just a boy doing what he could to save our son. Itadori shouldnât have to be killed for doing the right thing.â
He lets you push his head away, slipping the papers back into the document sleeve and sliding it over to him.
âHe will be executed once he eats all his fingers, he is a lamb sent to slaughter.â
At times like this, you think of Suguru and wonder if he was telling some truth about the world you lived in. Kids dying in droves because of curses that would never exist if non-sorcerers didnât exist. But really, this was no one's fault but Sukuna. The old bastard couldnât just die instead, he prolongs his existence like a roach.
"Megumi blames himself for that,â your heart squeezes at the thought. âThey get along great, such rambunctious students. You would love them, you could spend more time with âGumi.â
âSatoru, Iâm not going to be a teacher. Iâve no patience for it,â he looks befuddled at your words. âYouâve been my husband for 10 years, so thatâs a lie.â
The reminder of your marriage earns him a stink eye that he just giggles at. The official papers were to be served in a few more months. Until then, you were still together in the public eye.
âJust...think about it, (Y/N). I know youâve been busy with missions and these boring meetings but I also know you miss Megumi and he missed you too.â
Gods, heâs playing that card. Why does he always need to play that card? He knows you give in every time.
âHow have those missions been? Youâve been traveling a lot,â he puts Itadoriâs file away and gives you his full attention. âExhausting but it is fun to sightsee and make new friends,â you reach for the cup of tea.
â...Ya popped your cherry yet?â
The tea sprays onto the table and you cough violently as you save yourself from the near-death experience. A servant gasps and rushes to clean the mess, another asking if youâre alright and if the tea was too bitter or hot.
âYouâre â You are â â he grins as you cough and pats your back. âYou are so gross, Satoru!â
He cackles at your flustered expression.
The servants leave eventually and you stew as you sit across from Satoru, back turned to him to stare out at the courtyard. Your silhouette makes his smile widen. He props his chin in his palm, taking in the sight of you.
âI wouldnât mind if you had. I was just asking, as a friend.â Heâs glad your shoulders donât stiffen. The only reply he earns is your middle finger.
âWhaaat? I just wanted to know if it was good.â
âIs this how youâre going to convince me to be a teacher? By asking vulgar questions?â
âNot my intention but if I can kill two birds with one stone then why not?â You groan as you hang your head, hoping the ground will swallow you whole. Satoru hums a tune as he awaits your answers.
âFine! Fine. Iâll be a teacher.â
âYouâve earned one mark! For a full mark, answer the other question!â
Youâre tempted to throw the whole tea set to his face but canât help the smile that crawls on your face at his animated movements. So you turn to face him, shaking your head as you sigh.
âNo, I havenât. Does that satisfy you?â Satoruâs slack jaw makes you want to punch him.
âNearly four months of traveling and missions and meeting other people. Not one got into your pants?â You huff and cross your arms.
âSo youâve let someone into your pants, husband?â Satoru gasps. âHow dare you? Iâve been a dutiful teacher and my students will attest to this!â
He then placed his elbows on the table, looking like a schoolgirl about to gossip.
âYou should tell me all about your type, Iâll be more than happy to help you,â he draws hearts in the air with his finger.
Your type? You wanted to scold him and maybe even degrade him for acting like a perverted cuckold but this question catches you off guard.
You found Satoru attractive. Then again, who didnât? But what was your type? You place your chin between your thumb and finger. Satoru waits patiently.
âI donât know, I mean, I know I like men but...huh...â
You scratch the back of your neck.
âI guess I never really thought about it.â
Satoru exhales, endeared by the worry on your face. He was a shitty husband but Satoru was a good friend. You had put your life on pause for his. It was only fair that he helped you. He may not be able to fully piece together your heart but heâll do what he can until you can smile again.
Those months away helped, thereâs no doubt about it, but he knows you miss home and you needed to put down new roots in soil that wasnât infested and toxic.
He knows youâll probably take years to forgive him. Heâs willing to wait, so he can have his friend back.
âWe can start simple. Which one of our friends would you sleep with?â Your shrug makes him list some names. Then the sight of your eyes widening as he says Nanami Kento makes him gasp.
âNanami!? Our underclassmen!?â
As Satoru guffaws and goes on about how boring Nanami was your mind ponders on this tightening of your chest.
Were you too lenient with Satoru? After all he has done?
You weren't without sin or fault. You understand that much but this feels so different. Familiar, actually, there's no expectation in Satoru's affections.
It was casual and it made you feel lighter than you have in a long time.
Should you be angrier? As a boy, his friendly attitude felt like a slap across the face. Now, it just feels right. Has your heart finally stopped beating for Satoru? All it took was 10 years of a shitty marriage?
It was rare for sorcerers to live as long as you have. A sense of panic grips you. For a moment, the thought of time wasted flashes. Then, those sweet memories of Tsumiki and Megumi seep in. Memories of Shoko, Satoru, Suguru and you laughing boisterously at something stupid while eating at the school field.
Your eye creases as your cheeks lift. Satoru is still rambling about Nanami and the only thing that makes him stop is a sound from his fondest memory.
You're laughing. Clutching at your stomach and tear-pricked eyes kinda laugh. His huff of disbelief transitions into a chuckle.
Oh, you forgot how good it felt to laugh this hard. It felt so nice to have him as a friend again. So fucking nice.
"His cheekbones are something to behold, I know, but did you forget his old hairdo?"
Satoru can see the warmth seep back into your skin, your eyes are glowing again as you cover your face; those heavenly shades of (E/C) peek through your fingers. The ring glimmers, and for a moment Satoru's chest doesn't feel heavy.
"You can do better, husband," he says. Your teeth are in full view. No longer hidden by a grimace or frown or a tight-lipped grin. There was still a long way to go but Satoru was willing to go the distance. For his beloved friend who deserves it all.
He can't wait to tell Megumi you are back for good this time. He can't wait to see you interact with his students. He knew you'd get along with them, they'd love you. Gods know they need a break from him at times.
"You're so fuckin' dumb, 'Toru," you exclaim. He agrees with a hum and for the first time in a long time, you feel like yourself again.
"Made you laugh though," he dodges the pillow you'd been kneeling on with glee.
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