#i was already excited to have a knuckles centric story because its been a while since we've had one of those

[sonknuxadow]

imactually going to die

[yashimolala]

⎡ where are you now? ⎦fushiguro t. & m.

★ part two of ⎡ can you hear me now? ⎦ ☆  

❀ pairing: fushiguro megumi & fushiguro toji (familial)

❀ word count: 1,494 words

❀ genre: fluff/angst 

❀ author’s notes: this is not incestuous in any manner. 

❀ tags: character study, fushiguro toji-centric, introspection, purple prose, somewhat canon-compliant (?) 

❀ description: the moments that were left at the back of the father and son’s minds, and the places where they could’ve been.

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

Sunflowers.

Megumi’s eyes flutter to the sight of a delightful scar.

He knows this is a dream, but it was a real memory flashing in his eyes, one that he’s never been able to recall before.

The scar was graceful, stretching to its’ full beauty on a smile. It was straight,  adorning the left side of the person’s mouth.

Slightly-chapped lips, rosy hues on glowing cheeks, and large, rough hands reaching out for him. And his safety in a delicate body is entrusted to their palms as he’s wrapped in strong, built arms.

He could not see the upper half of their face. It was a rather blurry vision he had.

But he could tell… they were joyous. Delighted. Glad. Genuinely happy. They smiled like it was the most beautiful moment of their life. Like his very existence was a miracle.

Tenderly cradling his small, fragile body; gently rocking him to a soft tune. He doesn’t know the song itself, but he loves the comfort it brings. The small humming is imprinted in his memory, a precious memento to cross at his heart.

Megumi then closes his eyes, drifting to a deep slumber, all the while listening to the serene sound.

He lets the darkness wash him over to a new dream.

Interlude.

Your smile rivals the vibrance of a sunflower, Ever brilliant and happy, Blooming with a vivid yellow power, That I can never exude.

Shining brighter than the glaring star in a summer night. Fiery blooms of beauty captivating me in its splendor, Always facing the direction of its Creator Like a lost sailor in search for a ray of light.

- Yashi

Aloë.

Megumi remembers getting ice cream in the mall when he was a child.

He was observing the strange tubs of bizarre flavors illustrated in posters; he seemed like he wanted to try them out.

His father was watching him from afar, hands shoved into his pants’ pockets. The man then sighs, “Stay in the bench over there.”

Megumi nods, sitting himself on the vacant furniture, unknowing of what he was planning.

The older male disappears from Megumi’s sight into the flood of crowds, not even uttering another word before leaving.

Minutes of swinging his legs back and forth were spent as he waited. Person after person passed by him, never sparing a glance but he felt like the eyes lurking from the shadows are on him, but at the same time, he feels like he’s within a void of empty crowds.

Just as he was to hop off and set out to search for his father, the man was right before him, handing down a triangular-looking biscuit with a building swirl of soft white.

The child looked astonished, wrapping his small hands around the cone, green eyes sparkling with the smooth, glistening frozen treat.

Toji just sits beside him, seemingly uninterested with legs spread wide, in comparison to the kid’s knees that were almost closed in a timid manner.

Megumi blinks once, before glancing down the ice cream, bringing the pointed tip of coldness to his lips, taking a small bite.

Chilled velvety mush melted into sweetness as he savors the flavor.

It’s a classic vanilla that his father could only afford.

The father glances to his side at once, watching a small smile stretch on the kid’s usually stoic expression.

“Is it good?”

“Anything that father gets me is the best.”

Toji then closes his eyes with a contented smile, clearing out the chatter of the crowds in the mall and etched Megumi’s smiling face into the back of his head.

Aster.

Toji sees the color of the skies on Megumi.

He could never forget the beady gaze of his child, often glimmering with curiosity that he could never unravel.

They glow with a glint of excitement and interest, with every thing it explores, may it be the old bookstore down the street, the trashed alleyways in their neighborhood, or the stray puppy that he saw in the park.

Toji sees the only blessing in his life.

Toji sees Megumi making his own blessings out of the world.

A small smile pulls on his lips as the child’s hand holds onto his larger one for reassurance, relishing in the sound of his laughter.

Megumi has his mother’s eyes, but he also has his own soul in those pair of sapphires. It was somewhat funny because everyday when Toji looked into the mirror, all he can see are soulless orbs of dread.

But now that he can see the life in his blessing’s eyes, he’s more than satisfied.

Azalea.

The first time Toji went out with Megumi’s mother, they eloped to the beach, where the color of their eyes can be found, symbolic of their persona as well.

When he takes the boy to the ocean, his eyes gleamed with excitement as he starts talking about the sea creatures he’s read about, like the starfish, the crabs, the seahorse and more.

His blue gaze was a living memory of his mother, reminding him of the calm ocean waves that came crashing on the grains of gold and the clear skies that rolled across the earth.

He notices his mussed hair that was disheveled by the salt water that soaked into their skin and takes a photo of the footsteps they’ve left on the shore before it’s washed away by the sweep of shallow water.  

When he feels delicate fingers graze on his knuckles, his chest surges with euphoria upon seeing Megumi who held onto his hand with his small digits, lips stretching with a smile and wet lashes framing his face.

He wants to wake up every day to this shade of blue, the voice of his son filling his ears, to live in a moment that will last until the end of his time.

Interlude.

‘You look just like your mother.’

The man remarks as he glances at the shape of his hair — same black, same spike, same curl that framed over his features that was a tad softer than Toji’s.

‘I guess I do carry her tenderness well.’ Megumi brings up a hand to the expanse of his neck, averting his focus away, refusing to make eye contact with his father.

This does not go unnoticed by Toji, as his emerald gaze catches on Megumi’s ocean ones. They were a deep shade of blue, drowning in the abysmal depths of the sea, accompanied by the shadows.

He speaks again. You both have the same eyes.

‘Cause we are both exhausted.’ The younger male responds almost immediately, but it never came out in an exasperated manner. It escaped his lips as a gentle sigh.

Toji’s eyes travel down to explore more what he shared with his mother, halting by the slim phalanges that he wore.

‘And the hands.’ He adds.

‘We share the same wilting fingers.’ Megumi wearily says, demonstrating by shifting his digits into a hand gesture that he does not recognize, only familiar with the lines and curves that shaped his wrist.

‘But that rage, your mother doesn’t wear that anger.’

‘You’re right.’ His expression that was once serene contorts into one of madness, bathed in blood and the laughter that cascades from his lips is almost maniacal. ‘This rage is the one thing I get from my father.’

Sweet Pea.

Fushiguro Toji was not expecting to have the latter half of his plans ruined by the Gojo kid who went berserk after rising from death.

All he felt was unease, unease, utter unease.

Just when he thought he had thrown his feelings away, it all comes back to him with an excruciating ache to his chest, tugging painfully on his heartstrings.

All he remembers is clinging onto his wife’s back like a helpless beast, the joy he had when Megumi was born, raising him up until he was five and fuck, he wishes he could have seen him grow up more — deal with his teenage phase, watch him graduate, have a peaceful story of his own.

He longs for a life where he could hear about Megumi’s dreams, where they talk about what happens in his everyday life over dinner, where they could live as a small and happy family with Tsumiki.

But he can’t go back to that life, can’t return to where he left off, can’t have what he want anymore so what’s the point?

He looks into the long path that was stretched out on the other way, disappearing into forever. He’s afraid to say this is the end he’s reached, but deep inside, he knows that he’s already lost, deep in the restraint of his own pride, in the choice of path that he chose and in this battle.

So when he chooses his last words, he tells them to the white-haired teen in hopes that his child will at least be able to live a better life than he did.

He just hopes that his only blessing is okay.

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

The language of flowers: 

❀ Sunflower = “The sunshine in your smile”/Radiance ❀ Aloe = Affection and grief ❀ Aster = Love and daintiness/Remembrance ❀ Azalea = Family ❀ Sweet Pea = Goodbye

Oh and please do keep in mind that, in the second interlude, the dialogues that are in italics belong to Rupi Kaur’s ‘Milk and Honey’.

additional notes: i said i’d write more of this so i did. 

[miss-musings]

Four episodes into this season and The Blacklist is already in a slump

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed getting these Aram-centric and Cooper-centric episodes back-to-back, but I sadly feel like it’s too little, too late. The show has punted these characters to the side for so long to focus on the Red/Liz drama, that now that we’re actually getting some character development out of them it’s like ????

I guess the Aram thing kind of made sense, since the big thing for him last season was losing Samar. So, as annoying as it was, I guess it made sense to see him starting to get over her and get a little adventure of his own, since Liz and Ressler have to do so much of the heavylifting when it comes to undercover work, etc.

But, the Cooper thing is just so hard to handle. I really liked his little bits of development in early Season 6, when Red was in prison, and Cooper was having to decide whether it was worth trying to save his life. That’s the kind of introspection that really worked to give him a personality and a character, given that he’s been shunted into the background so much since ... ever. Harry Lennix is so vastly underused on this show, and I really appreciate that he got a chance to shine in tonight’s “Kuwait,” but I feel like it’s a hack way to give him some character development. It was so out of the blue and so forced. Ugh.

Here’s maybe a good way to describe it:

Earlier today, I went to the grocery store to get a few things. Since it’s been getting colder, I’ve been making hot chocolate a lot lately, but I never buy milk, because I don’t really drink it. So, I use water, which isn’t as good for cocoa-making. When I went shopping I decided to get a half-gallon of milk, which -- as I said -- is unusual for me. It’s like “Oh, I have milk in the house now..... okay.” I have it so rarely, that when I do, it’s really an adjustment.

That’s what Cooper’s character development was tonight. We get it so rarely, that it’s kind of like “Okay.... what do I do with this???”

Again, I wish Lennix got more to work with than just bland nonsense most weeks, but this is not the best way to give Cooper character development.

Also, I gotta say that I saw the whole “Hutton is the Simoon” thing a mile away. The minute Hutton said “the Simoon” and Cooper said “He’s been an intel leak in the Middle East for years,” I swear I did a ‘look into the camera like I’m Jim on the Office’ maneuver, because that was super obvious.

The whole ‘Katarina as Liz’s neighbor’ thing continues to bug the eff out of me. It’d be great if we had a sense that the show will eventually go the ‘Liz knew it was KR all along route,’ but I think we all know that isn’t going to be the case. No hate toward Laila Robbins, who seems to be a great actress, but I do hate KR so much in the present-day appearances we’ve had from her so far. I enjoy the KR in the flashbacks infinitely more, but Robbins’ KR -- IDK what it is, but I can’t stand the character. I think it’s partly because she’s so disingenuous and is never sincere. The few times I’ve thought “Okay, maybe she’s not so bad” is whenever she’s talking to Liz about wanting to reach out to her daughter. THAT’s the only part that seems sincere, but even that appears to come and go. I felt like when KR first met Liz and Agnes in the hallway in 7x02 that she really didn’t care about them, and almost looked at them with contempt. But, who knows. I’m sure it’s all mega-complicated, and we’ll get some bullshit explanation as to why in the mid/season finale and/or premiere.

One last little bit of food-for-thought is that I’ve been rewatching Once Upon a Time recently, which is a show that I watched the pilot when it first aired in 2011, and basically watched Seasons 1-5 as they were airing. I fell off after the Season 5 finale, and never really watched Seasons 6 or 7. And, as I’ve been rewatching Season 1 and now Season 2 on Netflix, I’ve been going back and re-reading Lily Sparks’ reviews on TV.com, which I read as the episodes were first airing in 2011 onward.

And, I have to say that my viewing experience at the time the episodes first aired -- which Lily captures in her reviews -- is SOOOOOOOOOOOOO different than rewatching the series now. It’s partly because I already know where the show is going -- even if I don’t remember all the little plot points and small details from episode-to-episode. But it’s also because NOW I’m able to watch them 2 or 3 or 4 episodes at a time, in a single day, and watch another few episodes the next day or a few days later. I’m not having to wait for a new one every single week.

And, as I’ve learned from re-reading Lily’s reviews, that makes a HUGE difference. Lily often complains about how the show moves at a snail’s pace, and we have to wait forever to get little crumbs of backstory or revelation or how annoying it is that the characters continue to point to a bigger story arc that hasn’t been revealed to us, the audience, yet. (ie, plot coupons). And she often half-jokingly, half-serious says that nothing happens on the show outside of mid/season premieres and finales. (Sound familiar?)

I honestly wonder whether I would feel this way if five years from now, I started rewatching The Blacklist from the very beginning in 2-4 episode increments. Would I also feel that the show was dragging its knuckles and treading water in between finales and premieres? Or would watching more episodes in a single sitting and with shorter intervals in between help me overlook so many of the flaws I believe it has?

TBL, I think, is a show that seems to lend itself better to multiple episodes in a sitting. Whenever we had those back-to-back episodes in the latter half of S6 this winter, I thought that was a much more enjoyable watching experience than something like tonight’s eyeroll fest. If it was a show that was like Stranger Things, where Netflix dropped all the episodes at once, so people could watch it at their own pace, I think it would help us to see more of the good and less of the bad. But, because we have to wait an entire week in between episodes, sometimes we’re more prone to be disappointed than satisfied when that Friday’s episode is over and we have to wait ANOTHER week for the next one. In a manner of speaking, it feels like we’re living off breadcrumbs that we get a week at a time.

I have a friend who binge-watches the Blacklist whenever a new season is uploaded to Netflix, and while he is also frustrated with the show, he seems to less frustrated than I am with it. I feel like I’m constantly complaining about it between September/October and May, and he gets a three-week span in August or whatever where he’s like “Yeah, this show is really weird.”

In any case, it’s just food for thought. As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I can wait until August or whenever for S7 to be uploaded to Netflix. I’d tear my hair out wondering what’s been going on with the show, and plus, being on Tumblr is just asking for spoilers, even with blacklisting tags.

And, for the record, I really hope S7 is the last. I don’t want this show to get an eighth season (or if it does, maybe it could be an abbreviated 13-episode one). It’s already overstayed its welcome, I feel like it’s a vampire or some other monster -- draining the life-force out of me until I’m old and tired and don’t have the energy to invest in a stupid hour-long drama on network television anymore.

I mean, it really says a lot that -- earlier today -- I was more excited about next week’s Good Place episode than I was about tonight’s Blacklist one. My interest in this show is taking a sharp nose-dive, and “Kuwait” honestly didn’t help much with that. And, the promos for next week look equally snooze-worthy.

I guess I really just need to find something better to do with my Friday nights and then just watch the episodes on the NBC app later, since this show seems determined to slump only four episodes into the season.