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

[bloodyshadow1]

hello @mer-acle as luck would have it I am your secret santa too. you wanted something based on Athena so here it is. I was planning on posting this closer to christmas, but since you gifted me that goregous Athena piece I thought what the heck.

It's not your normal torturing athena story but I hope you still like

Athena’s skin burned, her veins screamed, and her bones ached.  One minute she was standing in front of her father before all of Olympus, victorious from his gauntlet, the next he was shouting and she was on the ground.   She was in pain, her shield melted onto her arm since it took the brunt of the blow.

Her father was still shouting about something, probably a warning to the rest of Olympus not to defy him.  Athena’s body begged her to stay down as her head rang from pain and the crack thunder.  Athena knew the wisest move would be to stay down, to let her father throw his tantrum and make a plan for when he cooled down.  

But she could not.  This was not fair.  She might have mocked his infidelity, but why should she suffer for his ego when she won his game?  She had earned her victory when she had made it through 5 other gods by blood, wit, and words. Why should she suffer more for mentioning his infidelity than he ever did cheating on his wife?

This was wrong and Athena would not stand for it.  Regardless of sense and what the rest of the family was yelling at her, Athena rose to her feet even if she had to lean on her spear to do so.  Still, in front of all of Olympus, she stood in defiance of their king.  

For Zeus, he looked angry, as his wrath turned to hatred.  Not even Ares had ever made their father look this angry before.  He shouted at her, from what she could make out from his lips something ‘Thunderbringer’ and ‘wringer’ but her ears were ringing too loudly for her to hear him.  In defiance of him, in his rule and his words, Athena moves forward.  

Purple in the face, Athena watches as her father gathers his storms to strike her again, but she does not stop.  He was angry, not uncommon for him, but for the first time since she was birthed from his skull, Athena fed the fires of her rage.  

Athena thought of Odysseus, her dear friend who she never got to call the word to his face.  Trapped on an island, violated by a goddess he did not love, all because of her father’s cruelty.  She thought of Telemachus and Penelope who were forced to endure his absence and the men who came to take his place all these years.  

She thought of her dearest Pallas, her first friend and the first blood she spilt.  All because Zeus’ arrogance would not let even his banished daughter lose a spare.  She thought of her mother Metis, the only source of softness Athena had as a child in the pits of her father’s guts.  She was gone now, gone forever because she could give birth to a child with her husband.  Her first, last, and only gift she was ever able to give to Athena, her armor was also smoking, perhaps unusable after today.  Were she able to allow herself the time, Athena would have cried at its loss.  

Lastly, Athena thought of a little girl, a baby.  A child born without sin, but with a prophecy hanging over her head, one that did not even apply to her, yet the King of Olympus deemed the death of his daughter a small price to pay for his safety.   

Never again, Athena had swallowed enough poison and pain in her life.  She looked at her father, her king, and advanced.  For the goddess of wisdom is going to war.     

There is no god on Olympus who could match the raw power of Zeus, not his brother, not his sisters, certainly not his daughter.  Athena knew this better than anyone.  She doubted that she would, could, win against her father. Zeus is Zeus afterall, but she will be damned if she will let him treat her like this for standing up for her friend.

Her father tossed another one of his thunderbolts at her, probably thinking he could end her little fit of rebellion then and there. This time though, Athena was expecting it and rolled to the side.  Her body screamed at her begging her to stop,  to lay down and die, but that was not Athena’s way.  Before, he caught her by surprise, in a moment of weakness, Athena did not believe that her father would truly hurt her.  That had been a mistake and the pain and scars would be the price she paid for that mistake.  

‘You can rest when you are dead and not a second before,’ was something she told her students Achilles, Diomedes, and Odysseus.  Achilles was resting, Diomedes was not, and she would be damned before she let Odysseus rest in peace trapped on Calypso’s island. She was many things, but she was not a hypocrite when it came to battle.  While she was alive she would not lay down like a beaten dog. 

She met her father’s attack with a charge, Zeus was powerful, but she knew she was as good as dead if she did not close the distance.  His thunderbolts were the most powerful weapon in all the cosmos, her shield was already gone and her Aegis around her neck was powerful, but it could only withstand so much.  She needed to end this now.  

One bolt echoed behind Athena, missing her by a hair, then another as she closed the distance.  Something came into her mind as she moved forward, how sloppy her father was.  His blows were powerful, the whole arena shook every time his bolts crashed to the earth, but as a warrior he was lacking.  It was not hard to be dangerous when you wielding the power of Olympus and the most destructive weapons the elder cyclopes ever made.  But on the battlefield, if not for his godhood, well, Athena had seen many warriors like him.  She could read him like a book.

Big and strong men who thought because they wielded a blade twice the size of the men around them that they were unstoppable.  They thought their strength was a perfect substitute for skill and would carry them on any battlefield.  At least until they came upon someone far more skilled who actually knew how to fight.

As she dodged lightning, Athena wondered when was the last time Zeus had actually fought someone instead of turning them into dust with one blast.  No one challenges the king of the gods, so perhaps his last real foe had been the Typhon?  

That sounded right, the Bane of Olympus against the king, thousands of years ago.  The great spawn of Gaia and Tartarus tore the earth apart as he made his way to Olympus.  The other gods fled save for Zeus, and if the storyteller was being honest, Athena.  Yes, Athena had been so loyal back then, she stood by her father’s side as the Typhon and the creatures he spawned.  She had seen her father fall against the giant while she fended off the nightmarish army.  It was her who distracted the Typhon while Hermes returned their father’s stolen sinews.  She had fought for days back then and despite the blood and sweat she spilled those days she had been written out of the story.  

Athena might have cared, but not enough to let it bother her, back then it only mattered that the threat was dealt with and Apollo had returned to the mountain so someone could heal her wounds.  Zeus had been sloppy and out of practice even back then, now it appears he had let himself go even worse if she could make it this close to him.  

As he went to summon his bolt again, his face growing redder with frustration every time she dodged, Athena made her move.  Before the bolt was back in his hand, her spear pierced his wrist, spraying golden ichor all over him.  He looked as shocked as he was in pain.  

Athena tried to not give him time to recover as she drew her sword from her hip and charged.  She managed two swings before he was able to recover, a deep cut on his chest from which gold spilled out, and one on his shoulder that he was able to dodge somewhat before she could dig deeper.  

Before she could go for the kill though, Zeus grabbed her sword hand with his injured hand.  He might be a shit warrior, but no one in existence could deny that he was a strong bastard.  It hurt as he squeezed down on her wrist but she did not let him have the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.  “Ungrateful bitch,” he spat at her before backhanding her with his bleeding hand.  

Athena spat out blood but did not back down even as her head rang inside her helmet.  He had one of her arms now, he was stronger than her.  In a grapple she knew despite her experience she would lose.  But while Athena was not as strong as her father, she was sneakier and willing to do whatever it took to win.  

As Zeus started to say something, Athena let out her secret weapon.  The bronze of her shield had melted from his first attack, but it had cooled since then.  It was not a pretty weapon by any means, but with how it melted into sharp, jagged, and ugly edges was enough.  Before he could say anything she slammed her deformed shield into his throat and ripped it open, gold pouring out like rain.  

Even Zeus, the King of the Gods, could shake off such a dreadful wound, Athena was counting on it.  He fell to his knees, clutching his gaping throat, it was not enough to kill him, but all creatures weakened to such a wound.  She dashed around him, unclipping her Aegis from around her throat.  

Swiftly, Athena wrapped the cloth of divine make around her father’s injured throat like a noose.  For the first time since Pallas died, Zeus wore the Aegis that was once his.  And like her half-brother killing the great Nemean Lion, Athena pulled her Aegis tight.  

Zeus did not go down without a fight, wounded as he was, he was still the king for a reason.  He thrashed against Athena with the strength only those who knew they were going to die could muster.  But while Athena was weaker than the children of Kronos, she was no dainty flower to be manhandled.  She was a war goddess and proved her mettle hanging on to the edges of her Aegis with an iron grip.  

Athena drew strength from those who lost and who she had yet to lose.  The mother that had been the only source of softness in the abyss that was her father’s guts.  Her first friend who had been taken by her hand and her father’s actions.  Odysseus who was still alive, but tormented because his crew killed a cow.  Her muscles  grew tight as she pulled harder, “you will never hurt the ones I love again,” she snarled like a beast.  

Between her strength and leverage, there was nothing that the King of the Skies could do and eventually he succumbed to the darkness.

Athena kept her grip tight on her Aegis for a few minutes after her father stopped thrashing about.  She would not lose everything she worked for to him playing possum.  Eventually though, Athena let her Aegis slacken once she was sure he would not wake in a moment.  Not even Zeus could get up after that.  With a sigh, she knew she had not a moment to lose.

Athena knelt down to the pools of golden ichor that covered the stage, a mix of both of theirs, her own wounds had not stopped just because she decided to fight her king.  With a touch the golden blood of the gods turned into golden thread.  With that thread Athena wove a golden net even stronger than the one the family used years ago to entrap him.  

Back then it took days of planning before Athena could formulate a plan to depose Zeus with the help of several other gods.  Yet here she was, able to topple her father alone.  She learned from her mistakes last time and when she strapped him in the net, she made sure there was no way out.  He would wake eventually and this time Athena did not want anyone pulling a Thetis and freeing him.  

With her father secured Athena finally looked at her surroundings.  At the monsters and gods in the stands watching them with baited breath.  Some looked afraid, some looked unsure, but there were some who looked hopeful for some reason that Athena could not quite comprehend in her state.  The family looked at her with mixed eyes as well, she would deal with that later.

“Hermes,” Athena shouted, her voice was raw but full of authority.  

Within seconds the messenger god was in front of her, “hey there sis,” he said trying to sound like he was not nervous.  “What can your favorite messenger of the gods do for you.”

“Go to Calypso’s Island,” Athena commanded, “tell Calypso to free Odysseus at once by the authority of Olympus.  Let her know that if she refuses, I will be the next visitor to her island,” she let the threat go unfinished.  Athena knew Hermes would get her point across.  

“My father’s game is over,” she shouted to the masses.  Some looked shocked, some looked frightened, but some, even those amongst the family, had a strange look of hope that she did not understand.  

It took everything she had to not sway from the pain now that adrenaline was slowly leaving her system.  But after what just happened, she could not afford to show any weakness.  Whatever comes next could wait, Odysseus needed to be free, Telemachus and Penelope needed to be safe.  Then she could rest.

[blooddrinkingbartender]

"Maybe next time, I'll be able to smack him with my cane at the very least, that'll hit a bit harder than my fist," Antonio said, with a small grin then, "But it was satisfying to not have to throw a single punch, I will admit."

"I am too," Russell said. As much as he usually didn't hold grudges, Five had definitely earned some ire from him and he hoped that scar would last forever, especially knowing that Lucien caused it.

"Heh, thanks. Glad to be part of it," Travis said. While it was a shock and he was still taking all of this in, he meant it. They all seemed like pretty cool people and Russell was a good judge of character.

Russell had gotten to work setting some cups and glasses up, along with snack plates. Antonio put the kettle on, and was looking through the cupboards for the various teas and the coffee Bill kept. He got a pot of that set up after taking a moment to measure out a better amount of the ground beans.

"Th-thank you," Russell said to Lucien and Antonio, glad for their help, "Th-thank you as, as well, Erica."

It seemed they made a pretty good team in here as well as when they were trying to fight a threat. Maybe when this was over, they could perhaps do something like this for a gathering.

"Now that her mother's here, I think she'll be fine," Antonio said. He certainly felt confident of that fact.

Leofric had started to get up again when he realised that Bill wasn't bleeding from a wound, but crying. The sound was recognisable, which meant the smell was the blood was dripping from his eyes. Despite the fact he was crying and hadn't wanted anyone to see, Bill still wrapped his arms around Rook in a tight hug. That seemed to help ground him for the moment.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted you to have to see me like this, especially with what just happened to you," Bill said, quickly grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and putting it to his cheeks, it wouldn't do to accidentally get blood on Rook's hair or face, "I was just so worried about you... and then seeing Leofric like that, seeing Erica get shot and everyone else risking themselves in that fight, I'm usually better at holding it back."

He tried to joke.

"Maybe it's because I'm sick, right?"

"William," Leofric said from where he sat, "It's okay to cry in front of others. You don't have to justify it or try and downplay it. I think all that repressed emotion has been wanting to escape for a while, and this was what forced it out."

"Yeah, don't sweat it, blood drinker," Travis then said, "Having emotions or showing them isn't a bad thing. It took me too long to learn that myself."

"Indeed. And you didn't even have to punch anybody this time."

No, he wasn't still annoyed by that. Not too much at least. It was merely some playful teasing between fellow mindbenders. The main crisis was over. Somebody had to take the first step to ease the tension a notch.

"I will relish that thought." he added, nodding to Russell.

Veronica didn't flinch in the least at Travis' reaction. She was too busy working to get Rook out of her armor at the moment, but still couldn't help a small grin.

"The pleasure is mine. Welcome to the madness." she replied, before nodding to Leofric, "And I'm quite alright. We were being kept from turning solid for the most part. I'll ensure my daughter isn't in immediate danger, then have a look at you as well. Take some rest for now."

Lucien watched Veronica get to work to take care of Rook with all the tenderness he would expect from a loving mother. He never questioned why his friend had put everything on the line for a chance to see her mother again. The answer was right there.

He straightened his back and shoved any other thoughts relating to the topic aside along with the magical fatigue. "I'm fine." He forced himself to say, "The feeling is temporary. I'd be glad to help as well."

Whatever got him away from that. Lucien didn't say anything when Erica trailed after him on the way to the kitchen. The elf probably enjoyed more quiet places regardless of the presence of apple juice.

Smokey hopped back into Erica's hands, being more than content to be with his friend again.

"I hope Rook wakes up soon." Erica admitted quietly. She moved to sit on the wall for the time being to stay out of the way.

"I'm sure she won't keep us waiting."

And Lucien wasn't wrong. Right on time, Veronica found herself shaking her head when Rook woke up and immediately dragged herself over to Bill with what little strength she had.

It went as well as one would expect. So Erica leaped out of the kitchen to grab her double and dropped her by Bill's side. She then sat back while Rook slowly leaned in to let him know she was there for him.

[mehoymenoimehoy]

Vulnerable Moments With Gojo

cw: afab.

Other content: just some really nice fluff I wanted to share. 🥹

The night had stretched on for hours, the time slipping by as y/n and Nanami worked with the quiet hum of the office. The coffees she had previously picked up for them half finished as their work flowed effortlessly, the results shown in the stack of dwindling documents.

Their conversations were interspersed between the shared laughter and sounds of pen to paper. Due to her pleasant company she managed to get a few personal anecdotes out of Nanami. Like his child hood, his brief time in the corporate world, and even his affection for bread. In turn she shared little tid bits of herself. The growing camaraderie growing between them.

However, their night wasn’t entirely peaceful.

Nanami’s sharp perception caught the flickering shadow zipping by the office door that was slightly agar. The flashes on white hair combined with that unmistakable presence confirmed it was Gojo lurking. He glanced at a unfazed y/n, noticing the way corner of her lips twitched in amusement as she also caught those same glimpses of fleeting white hair.

Y/n, shaking her head finally let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“Does he not think we’ve noticed? He’s been at this for the past hour.”

Nanami sighed, the twitch of a small smirk forming. “Knowing him, he either doesn’t care of thinks he is being subtle.”

Feeling a little mischievous y/n conspiratorially whispered to him, “What if…we gave him a reason to come in?”

Skeptically nanami raised an eyebrow but with no protest. “What did you have in mind?”

She whispered the plan to him, a twinkle in her eyes. Surprisingly, nanami agreed albeit a little reluctantly.

A little later they both stood by the table with her holding a stack of paper work—acting as if they were deep in conversation. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but the proximity and laughter was enough to amplify the growing tension from “mysterious” man from the hall way.

Not even a few seconds later the door opens dramatically. Gojo, leaning against the door frame spotting his signature grin, though with a distinct edge to his gaze. “You two look like you’re having too much fun in here for an office setting.”

Nanami sighed, unbothered by the disruption. “We’re done here, actually,” he said straightening his tie and gathering his things. “You can stop sulking by the door now.”

“I wasn’t sulking. I was just keeping watching for any distractions for the sake of my precious colleagues.” He retorted, his grin widening as he gazed at y/n. “You never know what could come up.”

Y/n tried to suppress her laugh as Nanami shot her an amused look. “It was nice working with you,” she said warmly, “I hope I didn’t keep you too late.”

Nanami shook his head as his expression softened. “It’s been awhile since I had fun on the clock.” He admitted, offering her one of his rare genuine smiles. Turning to Gojo to tease him, “She’s all yours now.”

He paused once he got be door, glancing over his shoulder at y/n. “Goodnight y/n.”

“Goodnight Nanami.” She replied light and sincere.

The room fell silent once the click of the door was heard. Playfully, y/n placed a hand to her hip. “Sulking, huh?”

Gojo stepped closer to her. “I wasn’t sulking.” He paused. “But you did seem cozy with him.”

Tilting her head innocently. “What’s wrong with that? He is good company.”

While his grin faltered for a second, he leaned in closer. Playfully he retorted, “Well I’ll better company”

“Well you certainly win points for persistence.” Her smile betraying the tone of her comment.

As Gojo watched her, his usual mask started slipping. The emotions be was feeling earlier quickly dissolving into relief.

Y/n stood by the table meticulously organizing the last few pieces of paperwork. This time the quiet hum of the room was soothing. Her focus was so absolute that she didn’t notice the shift in the air as Gojo moved towards her. The approach was tentative, soundless, but filled with intent.

Before she could register his presence, she felt the faint contact of his cheek brushing near the crook of her neck from behind. It was close enough to send an electric feeling through her spine but distant enough where she could feel the hesitation in the touch. His hands softly grasped the fabric around her elbows, fingers gently wrapping around them. It was a silent plea for her attention. This gesture was profoundly vulnerable of him, something that y/n knew she couldn’t ignore.

Her breath caught as she stilled at the sudden intimacy, but as quickly as the shock came, it was replaced with a tender warmth that spread throughout her chest. Tilting her head just a bit to make space for him, her voice softly called out to him.

“Satoru.”

His response was immediate—a content low hum reverberated near her ear, causing goosebumps to appear. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he subtly breathed her in. His heart beat finally at ease.

“Are you okay?” She asked gently, her tone filled with more concern than curiosity. While her hands remained on the table, her attention was all on him now. She noted his grip slightly tightened at her elbows over the question.

He didn’t answer, not immediately. Instead he leaned in more his face flushed against her now. The heat and everything else of his proximity was palpable. With a quiet but steady voice he replied, “I’m okay…now.”

Like whatever storm that was brewing in him all day had calmed by the simple act of being near her.

This moment, as tender as it was, reminded her of child seeking comfort—a touch of petulance but with an overwhelming need to be seen, to feel connected. The thought eliciting a light melodic chuckle from her.

“Would you like to go grab a snack with me? I haven’t eaten since dinner with Nanami.”

He let out a dramatic sigh at the mention of another man. “Do you have to bring him up?” He grumbled, though there was no hostility to it.

“It can be dessert~.” She teased.

Loosening his grasp and stepping back allowed y/n to turn around and face him. Although the air was still thick with unspoken emotion, she was met with his trademark grin and the playful glint in his eyes. It was like the fleeting moment of his vulnerability had never happened but she knew better. That the man behind this grin was one who wore him charming personality like armor.

“Lead the way, princess.”

A smile formed on her lips at the term of endearment. His gaze followed her as she passed him. There was warmth to it even though the usual facade was back up again, like a softness in his expression that lingered only for her.

[valvesoftware]

breakups are so fucking weird. three years and just like that it's gone. huh

[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!!!!

[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

[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.

[kentopedia]

.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!”