#i hope i got better. i certainly think i have

[urmum-lovesme]

Ok but toxic!dad!rafe where this don’t effect the children’s life but when it come to the mother of his kids he’s still very overprotective. I mean she is a MILF.

This is the best thing I've ever heard anon I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Toxic!Rafe as a dad?

Surprisingly present. 

His kid adores him, and in their eyes, he’s just their cool, protective father. He spoils them, takes them out on the yacht all the time, and he makes sure they have everything they could ever want. He told himself he would never be like Ward if he ever became a father, and he- for a change- was living up to his word.

But when it comes to their mom? That’s where the real problem is.

Because Rafe does not change when it comes to Y/N.

Y/N falling pregnant, certainly wasn't planned. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She was young, she had a future and more than anything, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay with Rafe, let alone have a baby with him. She didn't tell Rafe right away. Not because she was hiding it, but because she knew- deep in her gut- that he wouldn’t react like a normal person. She needed time to think, to weigh her options, to figure out what she wanted before he got involved.

But Rafe found out anyway.

Y/N had been so incredibly careful, she didn't leave any trace of the positive pregnancy test in Tannyhill; but he just knew her too well, sensed that something was off when she stopped drinking.

“What?”

His voice was quiet at first, his brows furrowed, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. But then the realisation hit. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, the room suddenly feeling too small. His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath it.

“You were gonna tell me, right?”

“Rafe, I—I don’t know what I’m going to do yet—”

Wrong answer. His hand shot out, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“The fuck do you mean,��you don’t know?” His breath was hot against her face, his fingers digging into her skin.

“That’s my kid, Y/N.”

Her stomach churned, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“I just- Rafe, I need time to think—”

“No, you don’t.”

He cut her off, shaking his head like the idea itself was ridiculous, angrily running a hand through his messed up hair.

“You don’t need to think. It’s already decided.”

She tried to take a step back, but his grip tightened, his other hand settling on her waist, firmly keeping her closer to him.

“We’re having this baby.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the words passed his lips, tears stinging her eyes before she could stop the feeling.

“I don’t- Rafe, this is my choice—”

His fingers pressed harder, his face inches from hers.

“No, it’s ours.”

Even now when they have a child together, he still watches her like a hawk. Still gets unreasonably possessive when she dresses a certain way, still makes a scene when he catches another man looking at her for a second too long. And she knows better than to fight him on it- most of the time.

It’s a summer afternoon, and she’s lounging by the pool, drink in hand, wearing a bikini that makes Rafe’s jaw clench. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over her as she adjusted the thin strap of her bikini top. It was tiny- too fucking tiny. The black fabric barely covered her tits, which, thanks to breastfeeding, were even fuller now, spilling slightly over the edges. His jaw clenched as his gaze dragged down, taking in the way the strings hugged her hips, digging into soft, newly gained curves that had him gripping the bottle in his hand just a little harder.

His friends are over, and while they’re talking, his eyes keep flicking toward her, watching the way the fabric clings to her curves. And then- Topper nudges him, nodding toward one of the new neighbours talking to her.

Rafe’s face goes dark.

She’s laughing at something the guy said, totally unaware of the way Rafe’s grip tightens around his beer bottle. He doesn’t make a scene- not yet- but when the guy finally walks away, Rafe strides over, towering over her as she peers up from her sun bed. His voice is deceptively smooth, but she knows that tone.

"Having fun, baby?"

"Yes."

His fingers skim her thigh, tracing the edge of her bikini bottoms.

"You looked like you were having a little too much fun."

She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on her head, she had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going.

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious." He leans down, voice dropping.

"Go inside and cover up."

She scoffs, shifting to sit up, the towel underneath her crumpling slightly as she moved,

"It’s our backyard and it's a pool party-."

"-I don’t give a fuck."

"Rafe, you’re being ridiculous."

"Yeah?" His grip tightens on her thigh.

"Then why’s he looking at you like he wants to fuck you?"

Her stomach flips.

"Stop," she hisses, even as heat creeps up her neck. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in so only she can hear.

"Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, huh?"

Her breath catches.

And the way he says it? The way his hand tightens on her thigh, just enough to send a warning? It sends a shiver down her spine, even as she glares at him. Because she knows- if she doesn’t listen now, he’ll make her.

Somehow, their kid never see this side of Rafe, he makes sure of it.

To them, their dad is just protective, he just 'cares about mommy so much!'. They never see the way their mother bites her lip in frustration when Rafe pulls her away from conversations. They never see the bruises he leaves- not always from violence, but from gripping her too tight, kissing her too hard. They don’t hear the way she argues in hushed tones behind closed doors, or the way she eventually gives in and melts into him anyway.

Because as much as she hates his jealousy and his control, she loves him too much to walk away.

He is the father of her child after all

[littelovelunette]

SEVIKA FLUFF WE NEED MORE MA

I mean what about post!war Sevika being a concil member and meeting council!reader. What about about them working together to build a good future for Zaun and BOOM falling love. What about Sevika finaly being happy and safe in a relationship and finaly settling sown and enjoy life instead of fighting everyday ?

Please pretty please, our woman deserve a breakkkkk

Sevika's Little One (3)

Here's something similar, I didn't stick to the council!Reader thing because well, Sevika doesn't seem to have a lot of peers in there who like her, and it would be going against the original Sevika thing, so I combined it with another series, hope you like it!

Let me know if I should make more of these!

A few years passed ever since you'd given birth and Heather was now 4 years old. You were tired as it was dealing with your daughter's stubbornness which she most certainly got from your wife— Sevika.

You dusted the shelves, your daughter following you around as she imitated what you did with a small duster, hair in a hairnet and an apron a bit too big for her.

You straightened the photo frames, smiling at the one that reminded you of Sevika getting in the council.

Well, at least, things were sort of okay now.

“Mama!” Heather squealed, “When will mom get home?”

This was her way of acknowledging two mothers. Mumma/mama for you, mom/mum for Sevika.

“Soon, baby.” You replied, closing the shelf doors and walking to take the clothes out for the drier.

“Probably in an hour.” You added as you put the dry clothes in the basket and took them to the bedroom to fold.

“Mamaaaaaa!” Heather yelled in her tiny voice again.

You smiled at the sheer adorableness of your daughter.

“Can we have pasta for dinner?” She asked happily, pulling at the edges of her dress.

You pulled her hands away from the hem of her dress, “Sure, love.”

“Come help mama.” You said and put the clothes down on the bed.

Heather happily clambered over the bed and watched you intently, silently asking what you needed help in.

You started folding the dry clothes and Heather quickly followed suit however her pile of folded clothes were messier than yours.

A little messy would be an understatement. “Mama, look! Am I doing well?”

You looked at the pile of clothes, smiling a little, “Yeah, it's alright.”

“It's beautiful!” Heather urged indignantly. Your daughter was obsessed with the word ‘beautiful’— an adjective Sevika used to compliment her on a daily basis so now it was either beautiful or nothing.

“Yeah, baby, it's beautiful.” You laughed a little but before Heather could press any further Sevika's voice called out. “I'm home!”

Instantly, Heather made a beeline towards the door screaming at the top of her lungs, “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

“There's my little angel!” Sevika gasped a little as Heather flew into Sevika's arms, jumping and bumping her head against Sevika's chin. “Little—”

“Hey,” you smiled as you walked up to her and pressed a kiss where she just got head bumped. “How was your day?”

“Just got better.”

Sevika walked into the dining room with Heather in her arms who was chattering happily, talking about how she did her chores and how she'd been a good girl.

“I was just about to get started on making dinner. Heather wants pasta,” you took the ingredients out.

“Pasta, huh?” Sevika smiled down at Heather. “She took a shower?”

“No, I've been too busy, today's her hair wash day.” You looked back at Sevika briefly. “Think you could help her wash her hair today?”

“Absolutely.” Sevika smiled and got up, Heather in her arms.

“Yayyy!” Heather squealed and squirmed around, climbing Sevika's bicep and onto her shoulder.

“Careful there.” Sevika chuckled and walked into the bathroom.

Loud squeals and giggles erupted from the bathroom where you were sure Heather was giving Sevika a hard time while she tried to shower her little princess. You smiled to yourself, preparing dinner.

"Mamaaaaaa!" Heather giggled and yelled out from the bathroom, "Save meeeee!"

You knew they were playing around so you just laughed, and continued to cook. A while later small footsteps echoed around the house and Heather ran upto you. "Mamaaaaa!"

"Yeah, Heather? Whats up?" You asked not looking down at her but once you did, you broke in a fit of laughter.

Heather's hair was molded up with shampoo to form a shark's fin, you were sure this was Sevika's doing. "Sevika! What did you do to her hair?" You continued laughing barely able to catch your own breath. Your daughter looked positively ridiculous, not to mention she was soaking wet and running around the house naked.

You could hear Sevika laughing from the bathroom. You turned the stove's heat down, picking Heather up and going to the bathroom to give her back to Sevika. "Complete shower, you both."

Sevika grabbed Heather, tickling her making the little girl squirm and jump into the bathtub with a giggle.

Sighing and shaking your head you left the bathroom, these two were menaces. But you loved them eitherway.

[fancyfeathers]

Hi, im the anon who brought up a song by garbage. I was listening to Chicago, like any theater kid does, and I can’t do it alone came on. It reminded me of Ring leader! Villain! Dick, in a way that he would talk about his parents routine and showing reader each move in hopes that they can do it together. (If 🪱 anon isn’t taken, may I be that anon.)

have a nice rest of your night or day

Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU Masterlist

Oh my god I love this idea, especially because as his darling’s day job I picture her as a ballerina/performer because of the parallels between them.

Like I can just imagine she is staying after rehearsal to use the stage to break in a new pair of pointe shoes, she was given the keys to lock up so she is the last one in the theater and she is all cozy in her sweatpants and hoodie over her leotard and has her headphones on, the noise canceling kind since she is alone, or so she thinks. She already called Bruce to let her know that she will be home late because she is locking up.

She pauses when she gets a call, the ringing intercepting her music is what gets her attention. So she huffs and goes back to her bag on the sight side of the stage where her phone is, it’s Bruce. When she answers she is slight annoyed until she actually hears the concern in her adoptive father’s voice…

“You need to get home know.”

“I already said I would be home late-“

“There was a break out from Arkham, the security systems were out.”

She was about to respond but there was a beeping from her end of the line, she looks down at her phone, no signal, but this was the center of Gotham, the phone line had to have been cut. She immediately starts grabbing her things, not even bothering to change out of her pointe shoes, normally she would not care about a break out, well it was nothing they could not handle, but their newest high security patient was in there because of her…

Or was in there…

She immediately feels a presence in the room in the room with her and she has the mind to just get out of there while she still can, or rather could…

“Look up, Sweet Pea.”

She nearly screams when she looks up and sees Dick hanging from the scaffolding that the stage lights hang from. He is smiling down at her like nothing is wrong, but the last time she saw him was when the GCPD finally found her and she was crying in Commissioner Gordon’s arms while he got cuffed by Detective Montoya, she looked just as horrified and now she did not have any of her gear to defend herself.

He jumps down, right in front of her and she looks horrified and shocked at the same time…

“Hey you don’t have to be so surprised, I did tell you I was an acrobat.”

“Get away from me.”

“Hey don’t be like that baby, we aren’t too different after all.”

“You kill people, Grayson. I keep this city safe from people exactly like you, but go on, how are we similar? Besides the dead parents part that is.”

Before she could even react, he grabs her leg and forces it up, pressing it up against her chest because of how flexible she is, pointing straight up in the air and it burns after hours after rehearsals. The way he looks at her makes her feel sick, it is as if he almost loves her, well he did say he loves her when he kidnapped her for over a month.

“Well we are both flexible…”

The only reason why he is able to mess with her in the moment is because she is tired and sore… and also the fact that she knows this was most certainly planned so at the very least she was locked in here with him, she could run and hide somewhere in the theater, she knows the building better than he does, or at least she thinks she does, and Batman would be here soon enough…

He starts dancing with her across the stage, her feet already hurt enough from her rehearsal on top of her breaking in her new pointe shoes…

Her feet stumble along as he dances with her, one of his hands squeezing onto her hand and the other unmoving from her waist. He hums a tune as he dances with her, she knows it well, Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, it’s the tune that everyone knows even if they do not know ballet.

“You know my parents used to have this act together…”

“That’s nice, I am not an acrobat though.”

“Well you do have the build have the build of one.”

She does not like it when he moves the hand on her waist down to squeeze at her thigh, that is when she snaps and tries to kick at him, but instead he manages to grab that leg as well and force it over his shoulder along with the other leg.

“Here… let me show you the steps…”

It goes on and on, her trying to fight against him and him just moving her and contorting her body into several different poses and positions, each one hurting more than the last, and then when she finally tries pushing him back on last time, she gets him to let go but it is her falls and falls hard and there is an audible crack as she falls to the ground and sees her ankle is a position it should not be in, all red and starting to swell

“Oh no… that looks like it must have been painful… oh come here, don’t cry… a broken bone or two are bound to come at some point.”

[skrunksthatwunk]

AAAAA THIS IS SO GOOD LEMME RAMBLE A BIT OK BECAUSE LIKE. he's ALWAYS trying to make himself fit this box, right? he's always thinking and talking about appearances and what you have to do to get ahead (the suits you wear, the girls you entertain, etc) because he's been studying it. not just to get ahead, but because he knows he's got to do more to get people's approval than kiryu. I think there's an interesting tension there. he keeps trying to give him advice on how to mask and how to fit in because he's put a lot of effort and thought into it because it's how he stays afloat here and he tells kiryu to protect/help him, and then kiryu gets to disregard it and be fine anyway. he doesn't need it like nishiki does

and while nishiki loves kiryu dearly i think there's a sort of jealousy that often comes with that dynamic (speaking from my experience, ohoho). kiryu's allowed to be himself and not even try to be Correct or Normal and people let him because they like who he is as a person more. nishiki masks because he knows the base version of himself, who he is at his core, would be unacceptable... but if kiryu isn't and he is then there has to be something wrong about the way he is. something shameful he has to hide. or at least a liability he's got to always be accounting for, always stepping in front of to obscure.

and he loves kiryu. he really does. but maybe it annoys him when kiryu does things that are blatantly autistic because he wouldn't let himself do that. he has more self control. he's more aware of things than kiryu is. and nobody seems to see that advantage (one of the only ways he's better than kiryu) nor that effort. how bad he's trying to fix himself for them. they don't care. but the lesson he takes away from that isn't that he should stop trying because he's never going to please them, but that he needs to try harder and harder. he's going to pass. he's going to sneak it by them this time. he'll be the son kazama always wanted eventually if he keeps stuffing himself in this damn suitcase.. even though he knows kazama already has the son he wants. it's kiryu.

i think a lotta this is because neither are ever diagnosed (maybe kiryu is later in life, but nishiki? no chance), and because nishiki's not masking consciously. there's a part of him that's annoyed at kiryu's blatantness, and i think it really is rooted in jealousy, because he wants to be free like that. he wishes people would accept him if he were like that but he's on thin ice as it is. but i don't think he's necessarily conscious of it as jealousy, he just thinks kiryu needs to get a clue or get his act together or whatever.

and the thing is, i don't know if nishiki would have been liked better if he unmasked. people think of him as a snivelling kissass, y'know? and i think that comes from the masking. but i think he probably would be more chatty, more open. more inconvenient and more annoying, as far as his peers are concerned. strong and silent type? sure, they have a place for that. but that's not nishiki, and he won't be if he unmasks, either. and not knowing what the problem is (autism) nor what the outcome would be to fix it this other way (unmasking), he doesn't have much of a shot at it either. but if he did he'd probably stick with masking, because shit, it's better than nothing. he's gotta have armor. if people hate the mask they hate the job he's doing at fitting in. if people hate him without the mask, they hate him. he can't risk finding that out even if he already suspects it's true. it would break him.

but they'll always hate him anyway. nishiki, at the end of the day, could never win. that's his place in the narrative and in his own life. he fought a losing battle and he lost and they hated him for it. he just wasn't cut out for this. but the wheel keeps spinning, because if he stops trying, he'll fall apart completely.

[kicks door down]

Autistic Nishiki whose special interest is fashion and not only considers what's trendy but also looks out for fabrics that aren't a sensory nightmare, however sometimes he will force himself to wear something that isn't comfy for appearance's sake, which leaves him more vulnerable to getting overwhelmed and therefore 'emotional' Also means he has his collar popped like Kiryu's for sensory reasons too and slutty reasons, which would once again make me correct in saying if he undid his collar in Kiwami he'd be normal again because if I were constantly experiencing sensory discomfort I too would be fucked up and evil.

Cause like here's the thing, autistic Kiryu and Majima headcanons are more obvious (especially the former), whereas Nishiki probably comes off as the most 'normal'; he can likely maintain eye contact and talk to people 'normally' and not like, go off on some random tangent about a special interest or hyperfixation. And then you remember masking is a thing.

And okay, so I actually think it's unfair a lot of fandom considers him a 'crybaby' right, cause he's cried in situations MOST PEOPLE WOULD RIGHTFULLY CRY OVER! BUT, I can use this to my Autistic Advantage and have this be he actually struggles to regulate his emotions, and considering he's been exposed to the yakuza world since a young age where ANY emotion that isn't 'respectable stoicism' or 'righteous fury and indignation', he's seen as even MORE overly emotional. Hence the need to start masking so early, PLUS having to protect Kiryu who couldn't mask if his life depended on it because he doesn't realise he may HAVE to (speaking from personal experience, Kiryu definitely went his whole life unaware there was anything ""wrong"" with him (for lack of a better word) and had people just like "oh yeah he's just Like That dw bout it" and went on with his life), so Nishiki takes up the mantle of I'm The One Who Knows What We're Doing Lad's desperate to gain acceptance and will change whatever he has to but people still somehow pick up that Something's Off About Him and so they tend to be disdainful or brush him off. It's easy charisma that can win over hostesses and brief encounters with civillians but can't carry across in the yakuza. Kiwami is him trying his DAMNDEST to act neurotypical even at the cost of his own comfort, and the worst part is it's not working

[yourlocalsayorikin]

Happy birthday to me

[giantkillerjack]

ur post about queerbaiting and the dismissal of people in fandom to critical analysis is so incredibly true thank you. i feel like marcille's writing in the anime has been super misogynistic a lot of the time and every time i bring this up all anyone wants to say is "well maybe this isn't for you! and you shouldn't watch the show!" like. i don't think this is about taste lmao, i am analyzing the text in front of me and coming to conclusions about the craft of it.

[This is in reference to this post]

YES!!! THANK YOU!!!!!

It is so so frustrating!!!!

It's like being at a restaurant and being served a bunch of delicious appetizers, but then one of the bread appetizers is literally just a plate of crumbs; and then when you're like, "Hey, uhh, why are we being served literal crumbs?", a bunch of the other folks eating at the restaurant are like,

"WELL HOW ABOUT YOU JUST DON'T EAT HERE THEN??!? YOU MUST NOT BE THAT HUNGRY, SO JUST FIND ANOTHER RESTAURANT AND DON'T EAT WITH US!!"

And maybe they say it politely, but "Aw, sorry, maybe this restaurant just isn't for you 💖" is just trading out an aggressive dismissive tone for a patronizing dismissive tone. It's the same message.

And it's like! I was honestly happy to move on from the crumbs once my complaint was acknowledged because the meal overall is still delicious, but then all these folks got SUPER WEIRD AND DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT, so now I find myself double-checking all the other dishes -- and, actually, you know what those eggs DO look a Iittle misogynistic undercooked!!!!

[britneyshakespeare]

Also wasn't the 2020 election so miserable with how we were all waiting for results for literal fucking days??? Oh my God...

[unproduciblesmackdown]

"normal" meaning "unquestionable" & the embrace of that cropping up anywhere such as an aim to be on the unquestionable side of a Normal / Weird binary, thus surely being a comfortable effortless indelible version of Good that stems from "just be normal"

ppl out here like freud 2.0 where well they had the sufficiently normal Nuclear Household family(tm) experience so they're sufficiently normal for it, versus the weirdos who had the Questionable family times so as to end up with Issues, surely unlike all those who are Family Issue free, i.e. normal, no question. like how also Going To School is Normal, so of course there's that idea that anyone who didn't go to school normal style or did but Did That Wrong are the people made Weirder with Issues. & when what's Normal is what's Good is what's Unquestionable it's like why would i need to question it when it's so normal? why wouldn't some rando asshole nepo man be Meritous & Good at business when he's so Successful at it. speaks for itself, same as Your role of being treated entirely differently does, this can't be questioned, blame it on your own failures; again how the supposedly "questionable" experiences (unlike other ones, which need no Legitimate questioning) are pathologized like. people talking about disabled ppl's lacking "social skills" being this meaningful Driver of ableism just like poor people's lacking "financial literacy" being that darn cause of classism & resource extraction, the already Questioned vulnerable [you're just doing it wrong / failing] people are the cause of their own mistreatment, Normal people who are so socially & financially successful are helpless, this victim blaming (can't question it. Normal) sure totally doesn't speak to abuse being "normal" as well

which, good thing abuse totally isn't Normal i.e. in the territory of unquestionable things (with, obviously, the idea that Abuse (Real abuse, if you like) must be Exceptional in addition to, if not to Really be, "obviously" questionable) since if something can't be questioned then surely it's also How Things Were In The Beginning, Are Now, & Ever Shall Be (catholic prayer paraphasing re: god, for referential context) & there's just nothing to do but invest in & play into it For Success & resent / punish / try to eliminate disruption, like people just existing but doing it Weird, c'mon, be a better person please, obviously....meanwhile people out here approaching queerness in a way that accepts & acts according to the unquestionable normal of abuse of queerness, such that oh the "abnormality" of being queer (that is, "normal" people's abuse in the face of awareness of queerness) is unquestionable, such that Oh No, investment in that abuse now & forever world without end amen, & now punching down on the people who are just Being Weird & Disrupting this embrace of the norm: radfems invested in "all bodies will be classed as men & women & the former abuse the latter" & hate women who already disrupt this premise; pointing out ace exclusionism as terf logic just applied in the different context where queer vs nonqueer binary is neatly detected just as the gender binary is & people who already prove that & the way it's defined is not the case are the real problems, infiltrating Unquestionable (Normal) Queerness & delegitimizing it i.e. being The Cause of e.g. homophobic abuse, which will also unquestionably exist, so if we're gonna blame someone as Needing To Change it'll have to be uhhh already also affected Weird people who are ruining things, they're the Real causes of this abuse, so they're basically men, basically cis, basically straight. boooo to trans ace bi pan aro nonbinary gnc people....hardest to be binary gender "same sex" "romantic" "visible" Truly Queer couple currently holding hands in public or in front of family, & it's You Mfs who make it harder, not, yknow, the people who were already always embracing & perpetuating the abuse bolstering Normal(tm) Cishet Just Being Normal. and of course don't forget going after poly people & others disrupting / not accepting premises about Unquestionable Relationship Structures/Requirements. so not just being normal

also the beloved concept broken out that, of course, Being Normal = Being Good, b/c hello, unquestionable?? where it's like meaningless ideas that abuse is Abnormal like ":( hurt people hurt people" (inherently a framing to counter any response to [person is hurting me] that's not silent secret sympathy forever i guess. nobody's using this catchphrase to argue for Hey Quick let's all intervene to stop someone being hurt, lest they go on to hurt anyone themselves) like & yet everyone is hurt, yet not everyone is doing shit where these arguments are broken out after they're already getting away with nonsense & we're telling others to just stop complaining, while also not everyone isn't getting shit on for being "disruptive" & perchance the real hurtful problems for trying to Stop being shitted on, or just have a little more breathing room to day to day live while it happens. everyone's hurt bitch let's get you some "what's the actual patterns & context of supported power imbalance made emergently evident by whose choices & life are constrained & undermined & made smaller" like. or the expanded idea as that well all abuse comes from Being abused, i.e. the Cycle, never mind that abuse is everywhere as per its being Normal, & nobody's intervening every time it manifests despite its supposed exceptionality thus rareness & supposed indication that someone's Being abused to cause it. just gotta roll with it, wow. & pathologize being victim to it, abuser in the making, Vulnerable People are dangerous, those insulated & given more access to systemically backed power in an oh so Normal way are surely oh so Safe as well. the very rich families are all lovely havens. the abused people are treated so well & embraced & supported by all the more Normal people they encounter, certainly not Also isolated, bullied, victim blamed by these Normal friends family coworkers new partners randos in public randos who are "professionals"

but yknow uh literally just be normal lol. aaand post. and like "lol being Anti Being Normal? just like a weirdo" like yeah of course. and what, i'm gonna try to win the heart & mind of someone like "of course you have blue hair & pronouns" & convert them, as would definitely happen if only all transgenderists were Normal about it? and the perspective of "what Unquestionable Good is ever actually coming from striving to get to point at Others as Weird" involves going like "nooo i wanna see myself & be seen as Just Being Normal" instead of like having ideas / arguments about how to be considerate towards people which can be articulated in any other way & involve effort & said consideration (ft. anything able to be questioned)

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

hunter x hunter update: it's good 😭

[greatlordfluffernutter]

[gachaparadise]

Got Him 🥰🥰🥰

[orcelito]

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I didn't switch out of engineering after my freshman year of college. I could've been a computer & electrical engineer.

Or if I'd pursued my middle school interest in architecture (that I still lowkey have). I used to draw floor plans just for the fun of it. I think it might've originated from building in the sims, bc I recently did a massive build in the sims 2 after years and years without playing, and I was having the time of my Life. I ended up deciding to pursue engineering in high school tho bc there's a family history to it (my grandpa was one, my sister is one, my dad studied it before dropping out of college, & my ex step grandpa was one too). Also it pays better lol.

But what if I didn't give it up? I could've been an architect. Just the other day I found out from European friends that their buildings don't tend to have ventilation systems built into the walls & I went on a whole nerd research binge learning about how European buildings have air circulation (it generally varies by region, colder climates often having ventilation systems while warmer climates often just get air circulation from windows). Yeah, the architecture interest is still there.

If I go Real far back, little me wanted to be a nurse lol. But that was just because my mom was one and I still looked up to her. I've long since accepted I wouldn't be able to make it as a nurse (I'm too squeamish + tend to get attached easily, so i think it'd be pretty soul crushing for me to work in a job where patients do die sometimes)

Idk. I'm close to finishing my degree in IT, so my general life path is pretty set. And it just has me wondering about the different jobs I've wanted throughout my life & what things would be like if I went to that instead.

[seddair]

,

[starkidlabs]

At this point it feels like I’m not even back at square one. It’s more like I’m at the lowest point my life can possibly get.

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOME COOKED MEAL — nanami kento

you bring itadori home for dinner & he gets to see a different side to kento

contents. aka you dig up some teenage photos of nanami, fem!reader, husband nanami, fluff, yuuji being your adopted son, i haven't watched the new ep (& i won't) but there is enough nanami angst so i am here to fix that — 1.7k

when you got ready to leave the school, your jacket on and bag tugged over your shoulder, you passed yuuji itadori in the halls, his expression suspiciously similar to a kicked puppy. 

yuuji perked up a bit as you walked by, offering you a small smile and a wave. and though you considered heading on home for the night, eager to see your husband, you slowed, hesitant to leave the poor kid all alone. 

“everything okay, yuuji?” you asked, frowning as he rested his elbows on his knees, studying a stain on the floor of the school. 

“hm?” the teenager glanced up, eyes bright and wide. his sweet smile was back on his face, so innocent and kind. for someone who had been through so much already, he was more caring than many people that you’d met in your life. “oh, everything’s fine. everyone’s just out on missions, so i feel a little…” he pulled up one shoulder in a shrug. “useless.” 

you knew it must have been hard for him, being a student that wasn’t quite like the others, having to train a little differently, adapt differently. but yuuji took it in stride, and he handled it better than any normal person would. 

with a nod, you secured your bag around your other shoulder, shifting your feet. “it’s just going to be you here tonight, then?” 

he hummed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. “i think so. some of the others might be around, but they’re resting up.” 

“oh.” though you were certain yuuji had no qualms about spending an evening on his own, the thought of it made you feel like you were leaving a kitten out in the rain. almost pitiful. 

yuuji waved before you could say another word, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “have a good night! i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

the car ride was spent listening to yuuji tell you story after story, the boy opening up to you in a way that he hadn’t quite related to any of the other sorcerers, even gojo.

you smiled to yourself, enjoying his stories as you wondered how to tell kento that you were bringing your student home for dinner. 

there was still a bridge to cross between them, and though you knew they both liked the other more than they let on, kento hadn’t quite connected to the boy like he wanted to.

you hoped that by inviting him over, yuuji would see that kento, truly, wasn’t as intense as he let on. he was sweet, caring, and he did have a sense of humor… even if gojo didn’t really believe that. 

you led yuuji into the house, and stopped him when you heard the sound of kento in the kitchen. his mission had ended earlier than yours, and he’d offered to cook tonight; there would be more than enough food for the three of you. 

“i’ll be right back,” you said, tapping yuuji on the shoulder. “let me go tell kento you’re here.” 

you’d considered letting your husband know before you arrived, but you hadn’t wanted him to protest. kento would try to make a fuss of having a guest over, even if it was only yuuji, and he certainly didn’t care about formalities. 

your heart skipped when you reached kento, his back turned, finishing up the meal that was steaming on the stove. even just standing in the threshold of the kitchen, you were overwhelmed with all of your love for him. 

but it didn’t take much… it never had. you’d always been sickeningly in love with nanami kento. 

your footsteps were soft as you snuck up behind him. “kento,” you said, just above a whisper, snaking your arms around his waist. you kissed the muscles between his shoulder blades, listening to the steady thrum of blood pumping through his body. 

“hi, sweetheart.” he’d heard you approach, and he turned, eyes softening when he glanced at you over his shoulder. “everything okay at the school?”

you nodded, squeezing him tighter. even though you’d seen him just a few hours prior, it felt like a long time—time apart when you were battling curses always dragged as you worried for each other’s safety. “did your mission go okay?” you asked. 

he took your hands from around his waist, bringing them to his lips softly. “everything went fine. dinner’s almost ready so—” then, he noticed your guilty expression, one that you were clearly horrible at hiding. “is something wrong?” 

you smiled innocently. “no! i just… brought a guest.” 

kento’s eyebrows raised, his smiling falling quickly. “well, you could’ve told me before.” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around to face you. 

“sorry, i thought i’d surprise you.” 

kento’s lips drew into a thinner line. “honey, please tell me gojo satoru is not in my house right now. he’s not welcome here anymore, because the last time he almost destroyed our fucki—” kento glanced up, his words falling away as he glanced over your shoulder. “itadori. hello. i didn’t realize you were there.” 

you turned, releasing kento as yuuji gawked back at you. he’d caught in such a loving embrace with kento. yuuji’s normally stoic teacher was in the middle of swearing, blonde hair tumbling over his forehead. kento had replaced his suit with casual wear, and his contacts had been taken out. in place of them were wire-rimmed glasses. 

“nanamin!” yuuji gasped. “you look so different.” 

“yes, well, i apologize for my apperance.” kento sighed, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “i wasn’t aware we were having guests.” 

“one guest. its just yuuji,” you said, poking him in the middle of the chest as his professional tone returned, so easily taking over. “i don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.” 

“no, i don’t!” yuuji backtracked, eyes wide as he shuffled forward. “no, you look cool, you don’t look so…” 

kento raised his eyebrows, amused, even if yuuji couldn’t detect the humor in his expression. “so what?” 

the boy’s cheeks turned pink, embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “um—”

“you don’t look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” you said, voicing yuuji’s obvious thoughts as you kissed kento on the cheek with a short laugh. of course, it was only to embarrass him further in front of his student. 

kento feigned a scowl, but didn’t push you away, his gaze firmly planted on yuuji. “that’s because i try to keep my relationships at work strictly professional.” 

“really?” yuuji grinned, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, his posture relaxing as he grew more comfortable in your home. “not very professional to marry someone you work with, is it?” 

you laughed loudly, already caring so deeply for the boy that you’d known for such a short period of time. 

“that was certainly an accident,” kento muttered, but his fingers lingered on your spine, tracing each of the bones. “i’ll have you know we were not working together when we got together.” 

“really?” yuuji’s curiosity spiked. “how long have you been together, then?” 

you thought back to when you were teenagers, when kento had a haircut that he had since regretted, and smiled mischievously. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through old photos, back from when you were just kids, the images grainy and of much lower quality than the ones from your recent vacation. 

“hey, don’t show him those!” kento protested. he reached for your phone, but you scrambled under his arm, stretching your hand out to give yuuji the device. “itadori, don’t—” kento’s voice held a hint of panic, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed you around the waist, trying to stop you from giving yuuji the phone. 

but it was already in yuuji’s hands, and you laughed loudly, knowing that while you looked a little more awkward than you did now, your appearance had changed near as drastically as kento’s. 

yuuji squinted his eyes at a sixteen year old nanami, blond hair long enough to reach his eyes, dressed in an all black ensemble, an earbud in one ear. kento was hardly smiling, but you beamed next to him in the photo, dressed more childishly than you were now, but just as pretty. the image from when you still fumbled around each other, unsure how to admit that you were both in love. 

a roar of laughter left yuuji as kento’s expression fell, and he released you, snapping the phone out of itadori’s palm. “that’s you, nanamin? no way. how did you…” yuuji glanced between you, squinting his eyes. “well, i guess looking at you now it makes sense.” 

“i know,” you agreed, covering your smiles with your palms. “we looked a little silly together back then. i saw the potential in him, but satoru certainly loved to make fun of us, didn’t he, ken?” 

“i have absolutely no desire to relive those days.” 

yuuji laughed. “you were just like fushiguro, i bet!” 

“scarily similar,” you agreed, as kento rolled his eyes beside you, putting your phone in his pocket to keep you from scavenging any older photos to share with the kid. “and he still loves to listen to—”

“don’t finish that sentence or i’ll save this dinner all for myself.” 

yuuji eyes flew up to his hairline, but you just snorted, knowing that kento’s threats were about as scary as a puppy.

“he’s still sensitive about it,” you whispered to yuuji. “gojo and his friends made fun of him all the time.” 

“oh really. just me?” kento retorted under his breath.

“you must have been pretty popular, then!” yuuji grinned. “if you were friends with gojo. he said all the girls in school loved him!”

kento made an irritated sound, stirring the spoon roughly against the pot. “well, satoru is the last person you should listen to. he has an ego bigger than the sun. and my wife is leading you astray. she was not similar to satoru, she was painfully shy, and it took weeks for either of us to talk to each other.” kento took the pan off the stove, peering over his shoulder at you. “and she is very lucky i love her too much to dig up any embarrassing stories of her.” 

“well, stories about me aren’t that interesting anyway.” you laughed, pointedly turning your back to kento. “yuuji, the good news is, i’ve got some more photos in kento in the old photo books. let’s go see them!”