#idk i'm just taking it day by day and its still not Easy but i'm starting to actually feel like myself again

[zvezdacito]

First analysis on Sebek's attitude towards humans that actually takes the human colonization of the Briarlands into account instead of stopping at "its internalized racism because nocturnal fae are just conservatives clearly🤓☝️". I'm genuinely so thankful for this💀😭🙏

I don't blame people for misunderstanding the power dynamics between humans and fae here before Book 7 because there was literally no info/they SEEMED to be leaning on the "biracial kid hates his other half" trope/them leaving it so the initially elf-like fae could be interpreted as elitist snobs to human innovation, so the Briar Valley's history was intentionally set up to be a surprising revelation as to what actually motivates all of the afformentioned. But Book 7 has been out for 2 whole years; 2 whole years worth of time to actually catch up on lore. Twst is literally spoonfeeding its sympathetic stance to how the fae feel about their history the entire time too, its not as if its easy-to-miss subtext😭

Some real world tension Sebek's case is *more* comparable to is probably like Korean, Chinese and SEAsian elders having a strong grudge against Japanese people because of all their warcrimes in our countries, but it technically becoming "less relevant" to the daily lives of succeeding generations (and it seemingly being irrelevant to Japan from the start with the historical revisionism + refusal to acknowledge and apologize for said warcrimes) thus leading to some today seeing that hatred as some sort of reverse racism (even if it isn't)

I don't think it's comparable to the dynamic of racial oppressor and racially oppressed in western countries since its still very structurally relevant/less malleable between positions I'd say? (Even tho this is people's default when thinking about Sebek's "racism")

And Sebek's position is more similar to the mixed children of occupying soldiers/settlers with native women being conflicted about their identity and place (less because the "white" side being a (statistical) minority in the colonized-majority community, but a sense of guilt that their very existence feels like a reminder of the brutality and suffering that community faced). Though I'm not claiming it's a DIRECT parallel or allegory for these, since Mr. Zigvolt is not a soldier and may not even be part of the soldiers' descendants, just bringing it up to illustrate Sebek's actual place in the dynamics implied by Book 7 lore

Ngl I think twst fans have this issue of understanding stories where systemic issues contextualize why characters do what they do based entirely on how "nice" or "polite" that character is as an individual😭 Same reason people think Jamil (a literal modern day slave) is evil and "should've just talked to Kalim", or attempt to downplay the Dawn Knight's accountability in the invasion because he did lip service to wanting peace between species (even though it's likely a white-saviory idea of peace where human ideas take the lead and there's no trust for fae's autonomy. Just the bare minimum that they survive and get along with everyone else at their own cultural expense, if the loss of Fae tongue to Common even in the BV is anything to go by)

Idk I guess this is just my long comment about my pet peeve on people oversimplifying Sebek's attitude to "racism" because historically fae were not the ones with the systemic power and authority to discriminate and control the humans on the basis of them being human (which is what racism is systemically, it's more than just personal feelings of dislike lmao. And either way it was more the other way around for humans vs fae but fanon ignores this because "well, sebek is annoying")

Is sebek racist? Only a fun question, do not take seriously

Hello hello! Thank you so much for this question, I have been so excited to discuss Sebek's speech patterns since Book 7 reached EN~🥳

Silver says outright that Sebek can be prejudiced at times and Lilia states in the beginning of Book 7 that Sebek is the very picture of his grandfather, from the way he talks to the way he thinks.

We as the players do not realize how literally he means this comment until later in Book 7 when we meet Baul Zigvolt and realize that their speech patterns have a lot in common:

While maybe difficult to put across in the English-language adaptation of the game, Sebek has always spoken very old fashioned.

(Ace: "Okay grandpa, you gonna take her for a buggy ride next?")

He will occasionally say "this Sebek" in reference to himself, which Baul also does. (They are also both canonically quite loud, possibly another trait that Sebek adopted from Baul).

Sebek will also infamously refer to others using the 貴様 form of "you," which doesn't really exist outside of fiction and is such a rude form that it is practically a swear word. More here ->

Sebek uses it constantly, in everyday conversation.

And see Baul using it in Book 7 just all the time, with everyone except his superiors such as Lilia and Maleanor (there is even a time he becomes very angry and uses it with the senate).

Also like Baul, Sebek will switch to the extremely old-fashioned and formal "kiden" to refer to people who have impressed him. More here ->

Sebek's battle cry of "I'll swallow you whole" even seems to come from Baul!

And another thing Baul did in Book 7: refer to Sebek as human rather than by his name until Sebek earned his respect, which we have also seen happen between Sebek and Azul.

(In a Nightmare Before Christmas voiceline Sebek refers to Zero as a ghost and then a dog, eventually settling on his name, while he refers to Jack Skellington as "Bones." Is Sebek not just calling out humans, but referring to everyone by what they are rather than who they are?*)

(Does he simply yell human more than "dog," "ghost," etc., because humans are the species we have seen him interact with the most? It was confirmed in the novels that mermaids, beast-people, etc., are all referred to as "human" within the Twst universe, which has yet to be confirmed by the game but also has yet to be disproved.)

Sebek also refers to Grim as "dire beast."

There is a significant moment where he shifts to calling both Grim and the prefect by their names in Book 7, which the prefect even has the option of acknowledging aloud: "Whoa, you called me by my name?"

In a Harveston sub-plot Sebek even refuses to use an honorific with Epel's grandmother Marja until she proves herself worth of his respect.

Silver calls Sebek out on his inappropriate use of "kisama," while both Riddle and Sebek scold him for referring to people as "humans."

Whereas Epel's rude speech patterns can be explained by how it is a part of the dialect he was raised to speak and therefore he doesn't know any better (more here ->) Sebek is consciously and intentionally speaking down to others until they prove themselves worthy--is this something he learned from Baul?

Sebek says that Baul provided him with "an enriching education," but what exactly did that education entail?

Lilia expresses frustration with Sebek's inability to adapt to society, but canonically Sebek has only been outside of Briar Valley for 6 months, while he's been emulating his grandfather for 16 years.

Lilia says that Sebek has always been close to Baul and Jamil has a line of, "When admiration goes too far, the consequences can be dire."

I always assumed this was meant to be about Malleus, and while it still might be, is it also a reference to Sebek's devoted imitation of his beloved grandfather?

And we can go even deeper if we want, though this goes into theoretical territory:

Sebek was born after Briarland had already fallen to its invaders, but he was raised in a community where the war is still living memory.

Baul fought to protect his home against those who overran the land, exploited its resources, labeled him a monster, and drove them all into a fraction of their former territory.

He remembers what Briarland was before it the invasion, he fought to save it, he failed, and he survived to help put what was left of the country back together.

And then his daughter married someone who is potentially a direct descendent of the very invaders who had spent years killing anyone who looked like him and destroying everything he'd known (with even his native language possibly disappearing: Sebek says that speakers are "somewhat rare" in modern day, as the fae have generally adopted Common as their language of choice).

Sebek: "This has been weighing on me ever since we entered Lilia's dream. That my own father's distant ancestors may very well have been involved in all this too..."

And due to the long lifespans of the fae he isn't the only one with trauma and loss that feels both recent and personal.

Sebek and his siblings were not raised amongst the offspring of those who survived the war but the literal survivors themselves, unlike the humans to whom the wars are ancient history.

Sebek: "You must remember: from Lilia, Grandfather, and Malleus's perspectives...the Dawn Knight is not likely someone they consider to belong to the 'distant past.'"

While not confirmed in-game, it is not too wild to imagine that Sebek has chosen to ally himself with the survivors rather the invaders, and especially when he has been raised to idolize Malleus, whose own mother they killed not very long ago by fae standards.

While humans have been reproducing and dying at such a rapid pace that the current generation might not know that dragons are real, the same fae that managed to escape the slaughter are still there, and are now being met with the people born of those who stole their country but to whom there doesn't seem to be much significance to it all beyond a chapter in a history book.

And that might all be very well tied up in Sebek's use of "human"! (Disclaimer: this is all just a personal analysis and one of many possible explanations!)

Not only does it seem to be a speech pattern that Sebek has adopted directly from the grandfather he adores (and from Lilia and Malleus, who are also known to refer to non-fae as "humans" and whom he idolizes), but it may also be a reminder both to himself and to everyone around that while he may be two worlds in one, he does not approve of those that tore apart the community he grew up in, lest someone wrongfully assume that he agrees with the actions of his human ancestors.

Which would make it a form of self-preservation while growing up in a predominantly fae area.

Sebek's speech patterns and behaviors might be serving as a way for him to assert his loyalty to the fae, the people whom he admires, identifies with and was raised by, and distance himself from the humans who tried to eradicate them.

(If Sebek’s mother brought his father to Briar Valley from somewhere else (possibly Sunset Savanna) as has been implied, it’s possible Sebek’s human lineage isn’t tied to the invaders at all, but this is still vague.)

*Sebek refers to Sally as "Sally" throughout the Halloween event, using her name without an honorific but at least using it, much like he did with Marja. He also chastises Trey for failing to offer his hand to Sally and help her to her feet when she falls to the ground. Does Sebek possibly have a chivalrous side, not dissimilar to Leona? Memo: must check.

[theskymother]

animal jam is a lot more fun when you're rich

[jendoe]

okay it has been. Months. BUT i wanted to pop in since today is my birthday and let yall know how much i've appreciated the patience and kindness that's been shown to me this year 🫶 i am really proud of myself for getting here and i can only thank the wonderful people in my life for it 🤧 so lots of love from ME to all of you and also here's a picture of my fosters bc i Have been doing things in my absence

[watery-melon-baller]

im never quite good at dealing with people venting to me because my automatic response is to offer them a solution, and i get frustrated if they continue to vent without taking the solution, especially if it's a simple solution. i am aware that everyone has issues and that things are difficult but sometimes i see my friends and i just get so. envious and annoyed because they can just sit there and whine without even doing anything. which is a cruel thing to think because they do have legitimate issues but every time they're talking im just always thinking in the back of my head just do the fucking thing. Just do it. It doesn't Matter if X and Y are affecting you just fucking do it you have to do it you can't just sit on your ass and not do it. and i don't want to say that to my friends because it is mean and not nice and they have real legitimate issues and i completely understand where they're coming from and why they're struggling but my internal dialogue is a constant manta of "didnt ask didn't care stop being a little bitch and get over yourself and do it" because that's what i have to tell myself to get anything done

[amazinglyashy]

hellow ash! Dropping here since I got hooked from the last post ehe. If it's okay...idk if its OOC but, can you do some shorts or fic on like mc just wanting a peaceful, quiet life? away from fighting or mental battle. Esp Raf and Sy, they canonly seem to be the ones with most hard-core agenda. What if MC just want peace, yet entangled with them is sureway of NOT having that life? can they make it happen? or will they just shield mc in her dream fantasy life while they battle the real world? as we know even mc herself is already target from many unwanted people...so how?? idk sorry for ramblinggg😫😫😫

(its kinda personal since if I could, I'd just live in a small town with a garden like harvest moon game, away from stress and ambitious grasp of capitalism, buttt yea that's a dream only 🥲🙃)

I'm a firm believer that MC is however me and my readers/requesters make them, so no worries about OOC here :D also don't ever worry about rambling, I always love your comments on my posts and works 😭😭❤️ I did my best, hope you enjoy!!

LaDS men when all you want is to live a quiet life -

Sylus -

He knows his way in and out of the world, and every which way to get what he wants. Still, knowing your wishes-

It's hard.

Not because it's not conducive in your relationship, no- he'd give you the world if you so much as asked him. But it is a bit... difficult, to say the least, trying to figure out how to acquire you the life you seem desperate for.

He does understand your reasoning, though.

He would do his best to first make some of his more rural safe houses even more habitable- style choices that fit your tastes, a nook for you to relax in or do work, and anything you could think of that would help with your hobbies. Those houses become your little retreat, and they always have anything you could ever want stocked to the brim.

Luke and Kieran visit you often, or will occasionally take you elsewhere for a day out in town or further in the city. Unbeknownst to you, it's usually when someone has been targeting you and Sylus is... taking care of it behind your back.

Even if he can't stop his work after being so deep after all these years- even if he can't stop the people who are constantly targeting you for simply existed- he's going to do absolutely everything within his power to ensure you get to live the life you have chosen.

Especially with him.

Zayne -

All he wants in life is to help you find your peace.

That's all.

If living a quiet life is what helps you achieve that, then he's all for it.

He may sheepishly admit to you just how worried your Hunter's Association job would make him, wondering if the next gurney wheeled into his operating room would be you after a particularly grueling battle, or after running into the wrong person who had been after you for what nestled within your heart.

So this is definitely a plus to him.

By extension, he's also perfectly fine if you want to be stay-at-home. He makes more than enough as a surgeon to support the both of you extremely comfortably, and he knows that life really... hasn't been the kindest to you.

He's used to a bit of a commute, just trying to fight out of his driveway in the city center, so if you want to live somewhere further out in order to have space to garden, he'll figure out how to make it a reality for you.

Sometimes, he'll come home with something new for you- a type of seed for the coming season, a new book, some fresh supply for a craft you've been working on- anything, and he takes a lot of pleasure in seeing the smile break across your face whenever he does.

Rafayel -

Oh that's easy. Four words-

Beach house + Sea God.

Easy.

Hearing your wish surprises him a little, but it's nothing if not relieving to him.

He's spent forever, and then again, just trying to find you and also ensure your safety- from both up close, and from afar. It's difficult with how much trouble you get yourself into, and with the trouble you don't get yourself into that just seems to find you.

Honestly, this just makes his life so much easier.

Rafayel is so used to soloing against people looking to do you harm or bring trouble to you, so this isn't too much different than what he used to do before you two met again. And if you come to live with him along the seaside, it's that much easier for him.

He's in his element, so discovering anything insidious lurking near is easy, and he can usually take care of the issue long before it could ever reach you, much less get to you and you finally getting to have a breather in life.

One of his favorite things is a quiet day at home with you, sitting high on a ladder as he works on another giant painting, working towards the top just so that he can peer out the window- he loves watching you work on the garden boxes he bought for you, even if you don't notice him yourself.

Xavier -

He's bared witness to everything you've been through- at least the worst of it. Anything he hasn't, you've definitely brought him up to speed with nervous laughs and late night conversation when the two of you were awake past when you should be.

So he knows.

He knows you mean it when you tell him your wish.

He also knows you more than deserve it.

Xavier will smile it off easily, asking you if that isn't already what you've been doing with him- snuggling during the colder months on the couch in his apartment, waiting for him to finish his assignments and come home to a half-finished movie and a stale bowl of popcorn you fell asleep eating. The butter was tacky now like the tips of your fingers against the blanket he'll need to wash tomorrow as he picks you up to take you to bed.

Living somewhere out of the city is doable to him, and he'll let you pick the place. Occasional visits into the city are a necessity, though- how else is he going to supply Jerimiah with the harvests from your gorgeous garden if not? It's a nice little living, in addition to whatever Xavier brings in.

It also helps him really appreciate the smaller things in life. He never really knew how much he would love dancing in the kitchen as the sun sets through the window, until now.

[angeisherexoxo]

EVERYONE HEAR ME OUT (I think I was so close to entering the void)

From what I noticed, void is literally just as simple as sleeping, but because we suddenly heared about it we thought it's something way too complicated and "impossible" and that's what made us take a little processing the whole thing and practicing it ig, but the last week I was sick, and tbh I had no energy to overthink the attempt like I always did, so I layed down in my bed, wrapped up myself in a blanket and since I always fall asleep when I'm laying, I sat a LITTLE and supported my back with pillows so My position can be both comfortable and a mix between sitting+ laying, and literally I was just there, took breathes, said I'm in void (affirming), and I had a void subliminal playing out on my sister's phone (mine is broken), as I said I had no energy to do extra work which is (overthinking it/overcomplicate it) and as I'm sick I was low-key between being aware and unaware, I took like 10 or 20 minutes idk but it was the most successful attempt so far, I suddenly realized that I can't hear the subliminal on my sister's phone? I LITERALLY CANT HEAR ITT, I was like bitch where is it? It's just gone even tho it was right next to my pillow, but what confused me is I could first feel my body and second feel my room, I wasn't in void completely or idk really, I still affirmed anyways, and once I was done (let me tell you how I was done, once i stopped hearing the subliminal.. my dumbass started wondering why it stopped and where did it go lmao, so i focused on it again and thats where i started hearing it which means if i was close now im not☠️😭 ) I realized it wasn't void but I guess it was close enough? I have no clue but guys! This gave me so much hope and knowledge, I knew it's just by letting the whole thing go and literally just exist!!! (Even while im laying down i had soooo many thoughts i cant even remember them, i was just randomly overthinking while breathing and being there) Yk when you're down and you have ZERO energy to go throughout the day? Yes, do this with the void, act so chill and be like meeh and you'll be in, plus I read a post here that's still stuck in my head idk the acc but it said : "void is just like sleeping, when ur going to sleep do you complicate it and say I'm going to sleep I'm going to sleep? Like you're going to war or smthn?"

The point is to not complicate it and remember that BITCH YOU'RE DOING IT FOR THE SAKE OF YOU!!!!!!! DONT BE LAZY, DONT COMPLICATE IT BECAUSE YOU DESERVE HAVING IT SO EASY SINCE U STRUGGLED FOR THIS LONG, IT ALL FOUND YOUUUU FOR A REASON, YOU GO GET THAT REASON DONEE!!!!!

Note:

1. I'm consistently affirming for void whenever I can despite what I feel or see.

2. It exists

3. It's easy af.. It's like- idk for example its as easy as walking but I can't explain walking so you gotta do it yourself type of thing

I hope I helped <3

[thefoxtherapist]

hiii! i saw you were taking requests for wuwa and was wondering if you could write general cuddling headcanons or scenarios for jiyan, calcharo, scar (idk if he’s a cuddle type guy lol), and/or any other characters of your choosing. can have already established relationships

tysm 💜👾

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! I'm still learning the characters so go easy on me o7

-Scar actually strikes me as somebody overly clingy if given the opportunity. If his schedule allows for it, there's almost nowhere else he'd rather be.

-He's pretty brash about his wants and needs, he doesn't hesitate to take what he wants. And yet, his approach to relationships and intimacy differs from this. If his storytelling is to be believed, I think he'd be hesitant.

-But the moment you open your arms when he comes home? Scar's arms are around your waist in seconds. Always a bit too tight, face buried against you in one way or another. It can be bruising at times, or the complete flipside of far too gentle.

-With Scar its rarely big spoon/little spoon. He prefers when you're laying on your back, either on the bed or the couch. He likes to lay partially on top of you, his face buried in your neck, body half on top of yours like a protective shield. Your arms around him, holding him tightly.

-If he can't breathe because he refuses to remove his face from your neck or hair, then he's cuddling correctly!

-You know those memes that are like (brooding edgy guy) "and what were you up to-" "killing..." "we were cuddling." YOU CAN'T DO THAT WITH HIM! Scar will PROUDLY announce everything you two were doing. IN DETAIL.

-He's a proud man. And you've eaten his hair. Ultimately, 7/10.

-Jiyan gonna hit you with "I'm too busy right now, I'll make it up to you." then never make it up to you. The weight of the world is on his shoulders and to some degree he put it there himself.

-You gotta drag his green ass into bed, I'm sorry. But once he's in bed, he will stay there. The thing about cuddling with Jiyan is that it isn't just cuddling? It's also nap time. He's tired, he's overexerting himself, he's fighting a bazillion internal and external wars.

-He likes being the big spoon (you slept on his hair accidentally ONE TIME). Jiyan is a bit tense as his arm wraps around you, his other arm under the pillow. At first his chin will rest against your head, he'll sorta look over you.

-Eventually though he'll relax, his chest will loosen, his grip will loosen, and his face will drop into the top of your head. His breathing gets quieter, calmer. Every time he breathes out a lil hard, there's a gentle breeze that rustles the sheets. But it keeps the temperature perfect.

-It is at this point you could turn in his arm if you want to, bury your face into his chest. Jiyan is fast asleep and happy to hold you as he finally gets some rest with his lover. He's a bit of a snorer though, sorry.

-3/10 on a normal day, but once you get him into the freaking bed, he's so comfortable to nap with and snuggle so 9/10 once hes in there. Good luck though.

-So the edgy brooding guy I mentioned in Scar's section, that is Calcharo. Most of the people who work for him, or even know him, don't even know he has a partner. This is to keep you safe.

-But because of this, physical intimacy is often put aside for safety. He isn't a fan of it, I doubt you're a fan of it. But Calcharo puts those he looks out for pretty high up on his priority list.

-You have a secret knock. And when he knocks in that secret way, he's quick to push by you and into your home. He's quick to check all the locks before he even says hello.

-But his hello is picking you up and bringing you to the nearest soft surface. Your back hitting the couch cushions, him still holding your thighs as he pretty much lays on top of you at a bit of an awkward angle.

-Calcharo tends to kiss and cuddle, it isn't just a relaxing snuggle, he wants to get his kisses in too. Each one gentle, almost tired, as he peppers your face in small kisses. He's a bit like, yes I am saying this to be silly, a puppy.

-If you don't push him off and get him outta his gear, he will sleep like this. Look at that man, he's tired. But the second you push on his shoulder, he's off of you. Very respectful man, my beloved. But he'll follow you to your bedroom, dropping gear on his way. His weapon beside your bed.

-8/10. He's back to giving you kisses and he hasn't undone his boots yet.

[dwaekkicidal]

Hey! Idk if anyone has asked this before, but can you write skz with big chested!fem reader? I absolutely love your work!!

ok so i have a request in the works including big tiddy gf with Han so you can read that for a fic blatantly including it lol (it should be out in a few days) but for now I'll write you little drabble about them :3 this is super self indulgent so thank you 😼& i'm happy you enjoy my stuff :') <3

OT8 x Big Chested fem!Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~700

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader with big boobies: no other body type is described, suggestive but also like 1 mention of nsfw

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Certified Titty Sucker(s)™

the ones you can shut up by literally flashing him. but its only gonna make him drop to his knees in front of you so he can beg you to let him touch ("Let me at 'em" -Han)

the picture i had in mind was one of them (hyunjin specifically lol) just like laying on top of you with a nipple in his mouth and his other hand grabbing as much of the other boob as he can. maybe he's just come home after a long day and needs the comfort of his titties in his mouth. or maybe he's still inside of you, cockwarming after you both came, and he's calming himself down by mindlessly sucking one of your nipples

Hyunjin & Han (honorable mentions: Chris and Lix)

Biggest Babies

probably the kind to casually lay on them like theyre pillows the most out of all the boys. i could see him coming home from having a bad day and asking you to cuddle with him, so he lays you flat on your back and rests his cheek against your boobs as he looks up at you and rants about his day.

The ones who will literally pout and get teary-eyed if you ban them from your boobs for any amount of time. Maybe they marked you up when you told them not to or they just did something to make you mad so you put them in "Boob Time Out." The one's the most hurt about it and will cry and beg and grovel for you to take it back.

Hyunjin, Seungmin, Han, Changbin

Handsy Ones

would be the type to casually grope you randomly throughout the day. i specifically picture these guys as being the type of boyfriend who will sit on the bed while you get changed nearby, and the second your shirt and/or bra is off he just drags you close to him and shoves his face between your boobs. not like sexually per se but its so warm and he finds so much comfort in squishing his face between them. makes you literally fight to get him off you could try to put the new shirt on over his head to make him get off and he probably wouldnt budge 😭 he just sits there even more comfortable because now he's covered like a blanket LMFAO

Seungmin, Felix, Jeongin (honorable mention: Minho)

"No Shame"

the type who, if he's angry or jealous enough, will grope you in broad daylight. he wont do it for everybody's eyes but will specifically make sure the person that offended him can see it but nobody else can.

also very blatantly gropes you in front of the other members. for some (cough Jeongin cough) its an ego thing, but for the others its just the confidence that they feel because they know they're allowed and they just do not care that the others are 2 feet away

Han & Jeongin, Minho

Casual Enjoyers

these guys love your boobs to death (maybe not as much as Han) but they love them rather quietly. they dont outright tell you how much they love them and, if you aren't paying close enough attention, their love for them will go unnoticed

the ones who consciously care the most about your boobs' health. im not saying the others dont, but these guys will show their love for them by caring about their health specifically. they make sure you get the highest quality bras and does research for + buys you any oils that will give him an excuse are good for massages so on particularly achy days, you don't have to worry much about it.

also very easy to notice how much they love them when they drool and stare holes into them when you wear revealing clothes

Chris, Minho, Lix

[bitchfitch]

My mother's bf had a fairly major surgery (he's fine and recovering well DW) and he's going to be housebound for his birthday this year, so I've been enlisted to come up with a fancy birthday meal for the special birthday boy that's primarily fruit and veg, sweeter than savory, and is something he's never had before.

Bc I'm making watermelington. It's beef Wellington, but watermelon. bc my mom only found out recently you can use watermelon as a tuna substitute. And I know that you can substitute most higher quality beef cuts with tuna or salmon.... usually. Anyways the idea fascinates her so I'm hoping to use that for bonus points.

Now he's off his ass on pain killers so I can't like. Ask him if he's ever had something before. so to meet my brief I've decided to just. commit a novel hate crime against the British I guess.

Anyways. I'm writing this because I need to walk myself through this process and think it'll be surreal enough to be worth taking y'all along for.

So, Beef Wellington. In its most basic bitch arrangement is a beef tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto/really thin bacon, with a layer of mushroom and onion mush, that has been further wrapped in mustard slathered puff pastry.

We will be ship of Theseusing this. bc beef Wellington is like. the opposite of what he wants. Which is why it's funny.

Puff pastry-> it's still just puff pastry

this one doesn't have to change (aka I can't be fucked to do pastry prep and I'm just gonna use store bought it's Fine.)

the prosciutto is also just going to be prosciutto.

Thin meat

Beef tenderloin-> watermelon,

Tbh this is a pretty 1 to 1 substitution. I'll bake the slices at like. 250-300 for an hour or so ahead of the rest of prep to dry it out a bit. bc you can't like. Sear watermelon to seal in the water like you can beef. By definition it's a very wet fruit (like me when I fall into the lake). Ill Add salt and chili and lime juice while baking maybe. this is the easy part

The mushroom mush-> salsa done bad style

As the word mush implies, this is meant to be a very soft mix. It adds a lot of nuttiness to the wellington that rounds out all of the salt from the meats. I'm replacing it with white person salsa(the birthday boy can't handle spice). Tomato, lime juice, parsley, avocado, cucumber, feta, and maybe mango so I can have an excuse to have a lil mango treat. I said I wasn't making it spicy. I'm still putting a bit of chili in it. bc it'll be better like that. This is also a ridiculously wet bit of mush, Even the original mushrooms have too much water. I'll figure something out.

Mustard -> jelly

He lives in a big city. those preserve sections are massive. I'll find a weird one. maybe apricot.

Prep:

We're in the mind palace kitchen, I have not attempted any of this. We're just thinking real hard about it and I'll edit as needed on the day and post results.

The watermelon

Preheat oven to eh. 300f? We want low and slow to dry things out without it taking a year. but idk what his oven is like. If it's gentle I'll bump it up another ten-twenty.

Slather some watermelon slices in salt chili powder and lime juice mixture.

bake for 30 min on a wire rack or directly on the oven racks (after cleaning thoroughly) if he doesn't have a wire rack. with a drip try underneath to catch the drippage. check frequently. Have one slice that's for being poked to see if it's approaching being meat. Bake longer if needed.

Salsa bad style

chop everything up and add it to a pan with some oil in it. Tbh I don't think the type of oil you use for cooking matters if you're not like, getting near any smoke points. Most people can't tell the difference unless you made your food bland as hell.

Anyways there's some wildly different moisture contents on the list so there has to be an Order to cook off as much water as possible without getting yucky.

Tomatoes and cucumbers go in together with some salt to get the cucs softening, then the mango chunks and lime juice. Once most of the water is gone the avocado feta and parsley can go in. There is a good amount of water in avocados but they're delicate and don't pan fry well, so we're just going to ignore their water crimes and hope for the best. They just need to be evenly mixed through the rest of the mush.

Putting it together

lay out the puff pastry, cut into sections to wrap each watermelon slice individually with.

Slather in jam

Take the prosciutto and lay it out on half of each section of the pastry,

spoon the salsa onto that

Melon

Another layer of salsa

another layer of thin meat

Fold the pastry over the top and pinch the edges bc watermelon slices are not a rollable shape and I don't want to carve a watermelon into a tube for this because that sounds irritating.

Brush with egg wash and more parsley

Cook in oven following the pastry's preferred temp and time. it's fucking watermelon, you're not getting ecoli from it.

watermelington :)

I'm serving it with baked sweet potatoes and spinach based salad with whatever toppings are left over from making the salsa.

anyways thank you for joing me on this thought experiment. I will post updates once the deed is done. I'm sorry to every British person ever.

[minhosimthings]

love.

Synopsis: in which Hyunjin comforts you on a hard day

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, heavily self indulgent because I can, hurt/comfort, reader cries, mention of food

A/N: yay I did this finally it's out of my notes Woohoo! Idk when this idea came into my brain but it did and I couldn't stop thinking about it so now it's here. For my loves @chlorinecake and @astraystayyh they are my Hyunjins

Song rec: love by Wave to Earth

The weight of the world on your shoulders.

You had often heard that phrase as a child. It was ridiculous, initially.

The world can't possibly weigh that much.

You were the smartest in your class, you knew the multiplication tables by the time you were five, the capitals of the world by eight, and by fifteen, the weight of nothing but your own shoulders dragged you behind everyone.

University was an easy affair, that's what you told everyone. Someone's got to keep up the smart girl, book child status up right?

Studies were easy, just understand it, write it down better. Yet, fuck, you could feel the words fading by, was it a stalactite or a stalagmite?

Graduation was easy, you were peaking and nothing was in your way!

Then you realised something.

The world did weigh too much.

Everyone weighed too much.

Your mind weighed greater than your heart, something you fought off for eons now.

And diamonds are formed under pressure, but hadn't you learnt that diamonds turn into graphite every now and then too?

You were so smart as a child, what happened?, You wished ever so fervently that you could tell them that you weren't a child anymore.

No longer the child that thought the only thing that she needed to do to be loved was to get a good grade off her papers.

Or was that love starved part of you still inside?

"Rough day, love?"

Love. It was the nickname you most adored. Lucky for you nicknames were Hyunjin's personal favourite job.

"Fuck..." You swore softly, immediately collapsing onto your couch, and wrapping yourself into the warm cocoon that was your boyfriend's arms. You swore you would become a butterfly from your current catterpillar state one day.

The gruesome world always seemed to calm down on its axis of rotation as soon as you reached Hyunjin's touch. As if he was the petals of honeydew calming down the speed of a hummingbird. Would you have been the overactive bird rushing around to cater to the needs of everyone around her?

You could hear your own heartbeat in the moments of silence, when the dust seemed to still and the winds seemed to wait, eavesdropping on conversations old and new. The hauntedness of the thumping sound made you shiver.

The tightness around your throat felt tighter by the moment, like an invisible rope hanging round it. Your heart felt too heavy too for some reason. It's a heart, you tried to convince yourself, you need it to live. But you knew that you could rip it out of your chest at this moment, and you would still keep living on. But did you really have to-

"Want to talk about it, love?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

A loud sob ripped through the thick air, coating the curtains of the atmosphere in a blueish paint that seemed to have rotted inside it's bucket far too long. Hyunjin was quick to bury your head further into his chest.

You know you smell really comforting?, that went on in his mind, the thing you said on your first cuddle session, in which, he remembered fondly, you described his scent a bit further than most people usually did.

Broken strings of words escaped your lips, I'm sorry—im so sorry! Guilt always flowed through your veins whenever anything like this happened.

But Hyunjin understood, he always understood. And fuck, you both hated and loved that he understood.

One hand lay on the back of your head, while his other caressed your back, rubbing circles on it. As if a magical void would appear and take all your problems away.

Hyunjin was your magical void.

"Can you talk to me?" Hyunjin asked quietly. He felt you shake your head against his shoulder, causing him to tighten his hold on you.

"It's going to be okay love. I promise you."

Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips. 

Hyunjin's words in your ear and his hand rubbing ribbons of comfort onto your back made you catch your breath, and slow down. Silence rose once you had stopped crying, you felt even more tired now and you had to admit, Hyunjin was a nice pillow.

The occasional sniffle and tired breath from you, broke Hyunjin's heart even more. He hated seeing you cry, so much so, he'd always distract you if he ever sensed you were in a depressed mood. Even if there were times that you poured your entire heart out of him in tears, he'd always shed his own tears in private, sometime later.

"Love?"

"Hmm?"

"Want me to run you a bath?"

"With the candles and everything?" You managed to say in a quiet, exhausted voice. Your throat was tired from all the crying.

"With the candles and everything." Hyunjin smiled down at you, pushing back stray strands of your hair behind your ear, "Can we go up to the bedroom, love? Can we do that?"

He was speaking so softly to you, and it was making you want to sob rivers again.

Silently nodding, you felt yourself droop down all over again as soon as Hyunjin got you up, strong arm wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his side.

Pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head, Hyunjin started with shuffling moments upto the bedroom, which you followed, not even being able to lift your head up from the pure exhaustion.

Sitting on the bed felt like you were hung down by iron nails, while Hyunjin prepared the bath for you. Even a moment without him felt down, and even if it was a bit dramatic , you were willing to admit it.

"Hands up?" Hyunjin looked at you softly, taking off your shirt for you and discarding it in the empty laundry basket, "You did the laundry yesterday? Wow, I'm proud of you baby."

You let out a breathy giggle at his words. Hyunjin somehow always knew every word in the instruction manual of how to make you laugh.

"Is the temp alright?"

You couldn't get yourself to say yes so you hummed what seemed to have been a 'yes'. Your throat was raw, and your face was congested as well as your chest. You sounded like you swallowed a frog, and the frog was also now sick and subsequently congested.

The water truly didn't have any texture or temperature to it when you got into it. The world felt numb again as you relaxed into the tub, which, evident from the scent, Hyunjin had filled with your favourite bath salts.

What seemed like a year's worth of time, passed in silence, as Hyunjin quietly stroked your skin with soap, was it the lavender one or the tea tree one? You couldn't tell, remembering how you often joked that both of them gave off the same perfuminous vapours and that Hyunjin should just buy one of them. The water seemed more mellow now.

"Love, look at me?" Hyunjin's voice broke you out of your seemingly never-ending stupor. Like it always did.

You turned your head and rested your eyes on Hyunjin's softened ones, and you felt that familiar tightening of your throat again.

"Hyun I-"

"Don't you dare apologise." Hyunjin said before you could even get a word out, "You never have to apologise to me. Not for this."

His hands were sickeningly sweet as they ran over your back, washing lathers of soap off of your back, his voice even more so.

“You deserve to relax, you know that right?" Hyunjin said, as he wrapped you up in your purple coloured towel, "“You did so well today and you do so well everyday and you deserve to rest for a while."

Hugging you into his arms again, Hyunjin provided you with a little den, a cave where you could settle into whenever you felt that you were too tired for a lion's hunt. And you were forever grateful to him for him.

"Now-" Hyunjin looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "You are not allowed to leave the bed until you finish every single cupcake I got you."

"You got me cupcakes?" Your lips broke into a smile, a genuine one this time, "What flavour?"

"Beef." Hyunjin joked, sending both of you into a frenzy of laughter, as you pressed a kiss against his nose, making it turn the touched skin like a tomato.

The one thing that you'd have never admitted to anyone when you were younger was the fact that you wanted to be loved. That was a silly notion to you.

But maybe now, under the watchful gaze of Hyunjin as he saw you devour the cupcakes, you'd admit it.

You'd want to be loved, even if it was another weight on your shoulder.

Maybe that'd be a weight you'd like to ephermally lift.

[aesthetically-dying101]

Take me back, to the night we met. (part2)

A/N: see i'm being nice, also i was soooo tempted to say "his pale blue orbs" (iykyk)

Part 1.

Warnings: idk yall, so parental grief as a warning, gojo cries, reader cries, everyone cries, get ur tissues, happy ending cause im not evil cmon. in my world everyone gets to live happily ever after (usually)

Other warnings: use of y/n a couple times, no description of her but her family is japanese/chinese so ye

The world came back to you slowly, in fragments, like shards of glass scattered across a floor.

Pain was the first thing you felt—sharp, burning, relentless.

Fuck no, kill me. Was the first thing you thought.

The sterile smell of antiseptic filled your lungs as you tried to take a breath, but even that felt like dragging broken glass through your chest.

You didn’t remember much at first. Just flashes. The curse’s jagged grin, the way it loomed over you, its claws slicing through the air. The rubble that rained down like a death sentence, smashing into your hastily raised shields. The screams of the students as you ordered them to run.

And then... light. A blinding, all-consuming light as your cursed energy poured out of you like an ocean breaking its dam. You’d reached deeper than you ever thought possible, past the point of safety, past the point of reason. You hadn’t defeated the curse—you’d annihilated it.

And nearly yourself in the process.

*-*

When you opened your eyes, weeks had passed. The nurses told you the story in hesitant, careful tones. How some civilians had found you among the ruins, barely clinging to life, your body broken and your cursed energy flickering like the dying embers of a fire.

How you’d been brought to this remote hospital, far from Jujutsu High, far from the field, far from him.

They didn’t ask questions. Maybe they were too polite. Maybe they didn’t want to know why someone like you—someone with scars like these, with the shadow of battle etched into their very bones—had ended up here.

*-*

Your recovery was gruelling. Days blurred together in a haze of physical therapy and quiet despair. Every movement hurt. Every step felt like climbing a mountain with weights tied to your limbs. And your cursed energy...

It was barely there.

Once, it had flowed through you like a river, steady and reliable. Now, it was a faint trickle, a distant echo of what it used to be. You could still sense it, still touch it, but it was like trying to grasp smoke.

You assumed it might come back with time. Or it might not.

And somewhere along the way, you stopped caring.

The nightmares started a week after you were able to walk again. In them, the cursed spirit’s grotesque face twisted into something cruel and familiar. It taunted you, sneering about your weakness, your failures.

You would wake up drenched in sweat, the hospital walls too white, too clean, too suffocating. And always, always, there was the gnawing thought in the back of your mind: I can’t go back.

You thought of the world you’d left behind.

The missions.

The sorcerers who had been your comrades.

Gojo.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of him. You could imagine the look on his face if he knew you were alive—the sharp relief that would fade into anger, into questions you couldn’t bear to answer.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The shame was.

You were ashamed of your exhaustion, of your inability to pick yourself up and step back into the field. You were ashamed of the scars that lined your body now, the ones you couldn’t bring yourself to look at in the mirror. You were ashamed of the way your cursed energy had flickered out in that final moment, leaving you drained and broken.

And most of all, you were ashamed that you didn’t want to go back.

*-*

You needed to breathe.

It wasn’t an easy decision. Every part of you screamed that it was wrong, that you were a coward, that you were running away. But you silenced that voice with a quiet conviction you hadn’t felt in weeks.

“I need this,” you whispered into the dark, the words trembling on your lips like a fragile promise.

You didn’t tell the nurses. You didn’t tell the doctors. And you certainly didn’t tell anyone at Jujutsu High- you were sure that by now, they had held a memorial, the usual small ones for the fallen teachers.

You slipped away quietly one morning, the hospital still and silent around you.

*-*

The flight from Japan to China felt like a blur, a series of restless hours spent in airports, trains, and buses. You didn’t remember much of it—the thought of what lay ahead too heavy, too suffocating to let your mind wander.

The truth was, you weren’t sure what you expected when you returned home, but standing at the door of your parents’ house, key in hand, you realized you hadn’t prepared yourself for the flood of emotions that would rush over you.

This was the home you’d left behind.

The home where you were once a daughter, and now, a ghost.

You opened the door.

The smell of jasmine and rice, the soft, comforting scent of home, filled your senses. But the warmth of the house felt like a strange comfort and a cruel reminder all at once.

You stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you. The walls, the furnishings—they were all exactly how you remembered them. There were the framed photos of your childhood scattered around, family photos, those little details that made it yours.

You walked in quietly, not wanting to alert them, but the moment you stepped into the hallway, you saw it.

The altar.

It was exactly as you remembered.

Your father’s Shinto shrine beside your mother’s Chinese Buddha, their two worlds converging in one space. On top of it, as always, was the incense they burned daily, a delicate dance of cultures, of prayers for peace, for protection.

But what caught your eye wasn’t the shrine. It was a single photograph that sat in the center.

The last picture you had ever sent them.

You were grinning, holding up a thumbs-up with your usual mischievous sparkle in your eyes.

You had sent it just before the mission. The one where you had disappeared.

The sound of soft footsteps echoed from the kitchen, and you didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Your mother’s voice—always so soothing, even in moments of chaos—called out from behind you, filled with disbelief.

“Y/n?”

Your mother’s gaze locked onto you with a kind of stunned awe, her hand instinctively rising to her mouth as though she were afraid you would vanish into the air at any moment. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt as though the world had stopped spinning.

“I... I’m home, Mama.” You barely managed to speak through the lump in your throat. Your voice was hoarse, broken by the weight of your absence.

Your mother’s face crumpled. She collapsed into you, pulling you into an embrace so fierce it almost knocked the air from your lungs.

Her hands trembled as she cupped your face, her fingers running over your features as if to make sure you were real, to make sure you weren’t some illusion.

“I thought… I thought I lost you,” she whispered, her voice fragile. “I thought… you were gone. Forever. They said you were dead, Y/n. Jujutsu High said you were…Oh my baby.."

The guilt, the crushing weight of it, settled in your chest as you hugged her back, feeling the tears burn in your eyes. She had believed you were gone. Gone. It was an unbearable thought.

“I’m so sorry, Mama. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted…” Your voice cracked, and for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to break. You couldn’t hold it in anymore.

But your mother only held you tighter, her sobs muffled against your shoulder. “You’re here now. You’re here.”

Then, you heard him. Your father’s heavy footsteps behind you, and before you could turn around, you felt his hands on your shoulders, strong and familiar. His touch was always firm, but this time, it felt different—like he was afraid if he let go, you might slip through his fingers again.

His voice was low and tight with emotion, his words nearly lost as they stumbled from his lips. “You’re alive.”

The tears were evident in his eyes too. He held you, not with the stoic detachment you had come to expect from him, but with a tenderness that felt foreign. He was broken. The stern, steady father who had raised you—now crumbled in the face of your return.

“You’re alive,” he repeated, voice cracking as he held you in a vice grip, as if he could will you to stay by the sheer force of his embrace.

You buried your face into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your ear. The warmth of both of them was like a balm to your soul, and you let yourself melt into their touch, letting the grief you had held in for so long break free.

"I just... I need time," you whispered, the words like a confession, raw and vulnerable.

Your father nodded, a quiet understanding in his eyes. "Take it," he said. "Take all the time you need."

You couldn’t explain the emotions that were rushing through you—guilt, relief, shame, sorrow. But there, in their arms, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time.

Home.

*-*

Slowly, you could feel it coming back, the familiar rush of power that had once been a constant hum beneath your ribs.

It felt strange, though, as if it belonged to someone else. Your body had been battered, your spirit cracked, but there was a glimmer of what you had once been, barely visible, but alive.

Your mother, who certainly wasn't going to let you go back to the Jujutsu world so soon, saw it too. The flicker of your cursed energy trying to rise again—and she stepped forward one evening, her voice soft yet firm, as you sat on the couch of the living room.

"Put it in your bones, not in your muscles," she instructed, her hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, guiding you through the motions. "Let it go deeper. Let it be buried in your core, in your marrow. You are not a sorcerer here. You are simply a person."

The words felt foreign, alien even.

It was like learning to breathe again after having forgotten how for so long. But you trusted her-more than you trusted anyone else. So, you closed your eyes, and you listened.

It took time—longer than you expected—but slowly, you began to learn how to keep the energy within you, hidden and still. It wasn’t control, not in the way you had known it as a sorcerer—it was suppression, a delicate balance between strength and restraint.

Your mother never rushed you. She simply allowed you to feel it, and when it felt right, she would teach you to carry it in silence, as if it were a secret you had to keep from the world.

Honestly if she could've, your mother would've locked you in the basement and never let you leave.

*-*

But even as you learned to control your energy, there was still the need to remember who you were, what you could do.

So, your father—always the more stoic and methodical of the two—began training with you again.

One evening, as the sky turned to shades of deep purple, he set up a series of practice obstacles for you—wooden dummies, thick, metal poles, anything he could find to simulate an opponent’s strikes.

He was preparing you, not just to defend, but to destroy.

"Use your shields like walls," he said, his voice rough from years of experience. "When they strike, let the energy build up, compress it—like a barrier, like a wall you can collapse when they push too hard. Your energy becomes the force that crushes them. You let the pressure build and then release it. You can stop them, but you must be ready to break them."

The old techniques were family traditions passed down through the generations—defensive strategies and energy manipulation that had always been part of your bloodline.

They weren’t flashy or elegant. But they were effective.

These were the same techniques your father had used in his youth, and they had kept him alive all these years.

You took your stance, focusing on your father’s instructions, trying to suppress the weariness in your limbs. But as he threw another punch toward you, you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.

"Ah, so... like a garbage compactor?" you joked, using the energy to deflect his strike and feeling the air shift with the pressure you’d created.

Your father paused for a moment, his gaze softening just the slightest bit. It was a brief moment of warmth, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you.

"Exactly," he said, his voice tinged with something resembling a smile. "You make them feel like they’re trapped, and then you crush them with their own force. Remember, defence is never passive. It’s active. You control it."

You met his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his words sink into you. You could feel your strength returning, little by little, in each movement, each carefully calculated strike. You weren’t the same person you had been before the mission, but you were starting to find pieces of yourself again.

Your mother, watching from the doorway, smiled faintly at the two of you. There was something reassuring in the way your father pushed you, the way your mother held your energy back, the way both of them protected you, even now, from the world outside.

And though they tried to hide their relief, you could see it in the way they watched you, the small glances shared between them that told you more than words could.

You were still their daughter. You were still here. You were still you.

*-*

But the deeper you dove into the training, the further away you seemed to drift from the life you had left behind. You couldn’t bring yourself to think about Japan, about Jujutsu High, about him.

Gojo. The name clung to you like a shadow, but you pushed it away.

You had to.

You weren’t ready to face the world of sorcerers again—not yet.

Not until you were sure you could stand on your own two feet again.

*-*

Late at night, when the Jujutsu Society had gone quiet, and the weight of the world fell into silence, Gojo would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open in the dark. His thoughts were consumed by you—the way your eyes had looked as he walked away, the way you had begged him to stay.

"I know the risks, Satoru... I chose to be with you."

His chest tightened at the memory of your voice, full of desperation, of love.

"It’s not fair to you."

It felt like an eternity since he’d said it, but it still reverberated in his mind, louder than anything else. What had he been thinking? How could he have let you go so easily, knowing the danger you’d be in without him by your side?

The feeling of guilt had become his constant companion, suffocating him in every waking moment.

Gojo, the indomitable Satoru Gojo, was broken. He was so fucking broken. He had no one to blame but himself. And though he threw himself into his work, it did nothing to erase the gnawing void in his chest. He had lost you, and there was no mission, no fight that could fill the emptiness.

*-*

It didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups, of course.

They saw his decline, his increasing instability, and while they had long maintained their tight grip on him, the signs were clear. He was breaking.

A call came one evening, and after an awkward exchange between the elders, the verdict was delivered: Gojo was granted a two-day vacation. Not for rest, not for healing, but because they were afraid of what he might do if he didn’t have some time away from the endless grind of missions and expectations.

They didn’t understand. No one did. But they saw the way his eyes were sunken now, the way he seemed to float through life like a shell of his former self.

They saw the way his typically composed demeanor was cracking, how his silence spoke louder than his words.

They saw how each mission report came back with more erratic behavior, how he couldn’t hide the trembling in his hands, the edge in his voice.

So, they gave him the time.

Two days. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Gojo didn't know what to do with the time, anyway. He couldn't sit still.

He couldn't forget.

On the first night of his forced break, Gojo found himself on the roof of his apartment, his legs dangling over the edge as he stared at the sky. The city lights below flickered in a blur of color, but his eyes were drawn to the stars, cold and distant above him.

He had always been able to see the stars, but now, they felt so... unreachable. Like they didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. You didn’t matter to him anymore, not the way you used to.

I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...

The words broke through his thoughts again, like shards of glass. His voice trembled as he whispered them into the wind, as if hoping the wind would carry his apologies to wherever you were in the afterlife.

He didn't know what he was looking for—maybe for you to show up, to tell him that it was all just a bad dream, that he could go back and undo the damage he’d done.

But it was just him, alone with his thoughts and the weight of his guilt.

And that, it seemed, was the price he had to pay for pushing you away.

*-*

It had been ten months.

Ten long months of silence and silence only.

Gojo had sunk deeper into his own mind, his own torment. From time to time he had dared to hope, and used his Six Eyes to try and see your cursed energy but of course.. you were nowhere to be found.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn't stop remembering how his decision had left you behind, and now, with every mission he completed, every battle he fought, he only had one thought swirling in his mind: What if? What if he had stayed? What if he had told you the truth? What if he hadn’t pushed you away?

He had gone mad with it. And now, here he was, on the brink of losing his mind completely.

You had come to terms with your survival—not just physically, but mentally. Your cursed energy was returning, not in the explosive way it once had, but in a steadier, more controlled manner.

You had buried the past with your parents, but now, you were ready to return—if only a little.

You had no intention of jumping back into the field just yet, but the thought of working with younger sorcerers, training them, teaching them to survive the same horrors you had faced, felt right. It was your way of making amends—for yourself and for the ones who had been left behind, for the world that had once held you in its grasp.

*-*

You hadn't even contacted Gojo, or anyone for that matter. You had let the heads of Jujutsu High know, just a day before, that you were back. They knew the significance of your return, and the turmoil it would stir in the heart of the man who had been torn apart by your 'departure'death'. But they had no idea how to break the news to him.

They didn’t know how to tell him that the woman he had thought lost was standing right in front of them, stronger and colder than before.

*-*

The first day of your return was filled with awkward tension. No one knew how to handle it—how to explain the impossible. You were supposed to be dead. The idea that you were alive, walking and breathing, was too surreal to comprehend. They hadn’t told Gojo. They didn’t know how to.

But Gojo would find out soon enough.

Gojo was walking down the hallway when he noticed a commotion. His eyes narrowed as he watched a younger sorcerer take down a photo from the wall—the picture of all the fallen sorcerers, the ones who had died in duty, the ones who’d sacrificed everything. You had been one of them.

He felt his heart twist as he watched the sorcerer fumble with the picture, about to put it away, probably in a storage room where no one would ever have to look at it again.

Without thinking, Gojo moved forward. His face flushed with anger, a violent flash in his chest.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he snapped, his voice a growl.

The young sorcerer froze, startled. “I—I was just… it needs to be archived—”

“No. Leave it. Right. There,” Gojo said, his voice low and furious, eyes blazing with the intensity of his power. “You don’t touch the dead. Not like that.”

He stepped forward, ready to demand more, but the young sorcerer’s hands had already recoiled in fear-but there was confusion in his eyes.

He looked over Gojo’s shoulder, and suddenly, there was a sharp burst of sound from down the hall.

Gojo turned just as Shoko came sprinting down the stairs, moving with an unusual urgency.

Shoko. Running? This was bizarre. She never ran. Especially not in heels.

She passed Gojo without a word, her expression focused, tense, and she shot him a glance that he couldn’t read. But the panic in her eyes was unmistakable. She wasn’t just running; she was rushing somewhere—away from something.

Toward something.

Gojo’s instincts screamed at him.

A strange, sickening nostalgia hit him, a memory of when you and Shoko had been inseparable. Back when you were both alive, back before everything went to shit. He remembered you two laughing together, sparring, talking late into the night about everything and nothing.

He didn’t know why, but the sight of Shoko in such a state made his chest tighten painfully. He was unsure of what was happening, but something told him that the news wasn’t going to be good.

Not after everything.

*-*

He was walking down the hall, trying to shake off the strange heaviness in his chest. The building felt different. The air was wrong. His footsteps echoed a little too loudly, like a constant reminder of how much he had lost.

And then, just as he passed the training grounds, he saw her.

At first, his brain didn’t register it.

His body was already reacting—a curse—it had to be.

She stood there, talking to Shoko, like she belonged. His mind screamed at him that this couldn’t be possible. That this wasn’t real. That the girl standing in front of him, the one who looked so... alive, couldn’t be the same person who was supposed to be dead.

It was you.

You.

Alive.

For a split second, he couldn’t breathe. You were standing there, casually talking to Shoko, gesturing with your hands as if explaining something. The light hit your hair just right, and for a fleeting, terrible moment, he thought he was hallucinating.

And then, instinct kicked in.

His cursed energy flared dangerously, his hand twitching toward the edge of creation. His mind screamed one thing:

This isn’t real. It’s a curse. It’s wearing her face.

“Shoko,” his voice was low, deadly, the kind of tone that made even the strongest sorcerers hesitate. “Get. Away. From. It.”

Shoko blinked at him, confused, then horrified as she realized what he was about to do.

“Satoru, wait—”

“Don’t.” He stepped closer, his blindfold catching the light, hiding the searing rage in his eyes. “I don’t know how you got her face,” he snarled, his cursed energy spiraling around him like a storm, “but this ends now.”

Your heart jumped into your throat. You had expected this reunion to be awkward, maybe emotional, but not this.

(Dying because of him after all this would be the most ironic thing in the world.)

Instinctively, you raised your hands, activating your defense technique. A shimmering barrier formed around you, the culmination of years of training, of desperation to survive.

It wouldn’t do much against him, you knew that, but your body moved on its own.

“Satoru!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the air. “The fuck is wrong with you?!"

He froze, his energy wavering, but the rage in his stance didn’t falter.

“Nice try,” he hissed, taking another step closer. “You’re not her. You’re a curse wearing her skin, and I’m going to make sure you don’t take another step.”

“Are you insane?” you snapped, your barrier flaring brighter as his energy bore down on you. “I’m not a curse, you idiot! Put your stupid technique away before you blow up half the school!”

The sheer audacity of your tone made him pause. His head tilted slightly, the storm around him ebbing for a moment.

“You think I’m just going to believe that? That you’re suddenly alive, here, after a year?”

“Yes!” you yelled, exasperation lacing your voice. “Because I am alive, you dense, blindfolded moron! And you’d know that if you weren’t so busy trying to obliterate me!”

Shoko, still standing off to the side, groaned loudly. “For the love of God, Gojo, she’s real! She’s alive! Stop acting like a lunatic!”

Gojo turned to her, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “And you’re just... taking its word for it? You’re a doctor, Shoko! You should know better than to fall for—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Satoru!” you interrupted, stepping forward despite the suffocating pressure of his energy. “Look at me! Use those stupid Six Eyes of yours and look at me!”

For once you had let your jujutsu out, he would be able to see you. If he looked.

He hesitated. His fingers twitched, his energy wavering again. Slowly, cautiously, he peeled back the layers of his perception, focusing on you. What he saw made his breath hitch.

Scars. Faint traces of cursed energy buried deep within you, almost imperceptible. Pain, survival, and—most importantly—you.

It was you.

His knees nearly gave out. The rage, the disbelief, the grief he’d been carrying for months—all of it collapsed under the weight of the truth.

“It’s... you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It’s really you.”

You lowered your barrier, but your fists remained clenched.

“Yes, it’s me. And you were about two seconds away from turning me into a smear on the ground.”

His shock melted into something raw and broken, and then—anger. “You left me,” he said, his voice rising. “You let me think you were dead. Do you know what that did to me?”

Your eyes flashed. “I left you? You broke up with me! You threw me away like I was nothing, and then I almost died a day later!”

“I broke up with you to protect you! To keep you safe! And you still—” He cut himself off, his hands shaking as he pointed at you. “You still went on that mission! Alone! You didn’t even—”

“I didn’t have a choice, Satoru!” you shouted back, tears stinging your eyes. “It was my job, my life. And guess what? I survived! I dragged myself back from the brink, but I couldn’t face you. Not after what you did.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something dangerously soft. “So instead, you let me think you were dead. For a year. Do you know how many nights I stayed up thinking about you? Wondering if I could’ve saved you? If I could’ve stopped it?”

“Do you know how many nights I stayed up hating you for leaving me?” you shot back, your voice cracking. “For making me feel like I wasn’t enough? Like I wasn’t worth fighting for?”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. For the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo was utterly at a loss.

You took a shaky breath, wiping at your eyes. “I didn’t come back to fight with you, Gojo. I came back because... I finally found myself again. And I’m not going to let you ruin that.”

He stared at you, his hands trembling at his sides. “You think I wanted to ruin you? You think I wanted any of this?”

"I... listen. I'm sorry. I should've told you. I.. apologies." You whispered.

Then, suddenly, he moved. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between you and pulled you into a kiss. It was desperate, raw, full of all the things he couldn’t say—I’m sorry. I missed you. I love you.

You froze for a moment before your hands found their way to his chest, clutching his shirt as you kissed him back. The anger, the pain, the confusion—it all melted away, leaving nothing but the undeniable truth of what you felt for each other.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Don’t ever leave me like that.”

Your eyes softened, your hands still clutching his shirt. “Then don’t push me away again.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Deal.”

The next kiss was very sad and pathetic.. and salty.

Damn tears.

A/N: alr so uuummm i hope this is even half decent, im not exactly a fan of the ending, so i might revise it later, im unsure

:)

[pedge-page]

Joel dealing with Preggo Wife drabble (?): Sundae Surprise

Notes: I've still got more adventures for these two, I'm just writing little scenes that may or may not be Canon and jumping around the timeline at this point idk just ENJOY THE IDEA OF IT:

- - - -

You're playing on the old Gameboy Joel dug up out of storage, legs propped up on the couch on this hot-ass-fuck Sunday afternoon. You had been given strict orders to take it easy and lounge these last few days before the baby arrives.

Easy.

Your thumbs are furiously clicking, eyebrowns furrowed as you try for the 23rd time to pass the level youre stuck on.

"Joel. Can you get me chocolate syrup and a can of cool whip."

"No. You've had too much sugar today. Need to keep your heart rate down, due any minute."

"Daddy..." you pout with a head tilt and innocent begging voice to entice him.

"Mmm," he mocks with a far cry minic of your high pitched tone, still not looking at you as he twiddles with his tools on the creaky bolts of the dining table. "Still no."

You roll your eyes, dropping the game box on the coffee table. You drumb your fingertips on your ever so quiet belly all scrunched up under your massive breasts.

You know for a fact this baby isnt coming any time soon since she's so silent today. Joel's been too overly anxious with the due date approaching literally this week. Keeps fixing shit around the house like it's going to make him ease his worry. He's already replaced the lightbulb in the bathroom that was perfectly fine, adjusted the creaky hinge of the front door, re-caulked the kitchen sink back splash, but damn the dining room table--which you have no idea had something wrong with it but Joel's been giving it hella attention while you sit around bored out of your mind.

Momma's instinct will tell you when this baby is ready to pop. But right now you NEED to guzzle chocolate syrup and whip cream down your throat like a frat party bukake or SOMEBODY (not to name any names--but its Joel) is sleeping on the couch tonight.

You think a little bit before it clicks.

You gasp excitedly--a little too over the top, "She's kicking!"

But Joel is so on edge he doesn't even question it, running straight for you and kneeling by the couch, his whiskers scratching the smooth expanse of your skin as he rests his ear flat on your belly.

"Hear that?" You encourage.

But it's quiet.

"No....no," but he wants to so badly, wants to believe his baby is gonna tell him something, and he thinks maybe ...? "wait, wait, yeah, she says 'daddy's here'--"

"No, she says bring me some fucking chocolate syrup and whip cream."

He pulls away and narrows his eyes at you before disappointingly getting on his feet and going to the fridge.

You eagerly tilt your head back, sticking your tongue out, hands clasped merrily as he presses the nozzle of the can and shhhhhh it into you mouth, getting revenge by intentionally over filling too much for you to be able to close your lips around it. Then he drizzles the chocolate syrup on top, making your mouth a vertical Sundae.

You try to swallow around the concoction, lips pursing to encase the top of the pile, but it's all too much and you choke a little bit, sending a miniaturized cannon of white cream and dark sauce splattering back on to Joel's nose.

With a gasping mouth full of ice cream toppings, you chortle over laughing and kicking your feet comically while clapping your hands, desperate to swallow the mess and breathe a lung full of air at the same time through your teary eyes.

Joel just puts his hands on his hips, letting you have your laugh at him.

Then you gasp out loud--the panicked, serious, bone chilling one where you stop laughing and kicking altogether, lips trembling and terrified as your hand drifts south to cup your lower belly, feeling a sudden rush of liquid staining your bum, and that dreaded big something has abruptly DROPPED inside you.

You slowly bring your wide eyes back at Joel, who's tight lipped gaze matches yours of tense panic despite the glob of Cool Whip hanging off his snout.

You gargle with the sugary fluffy dessert still in your mouth, "Mah wawa bwoke."

-

Series Masterlist

Permanent taglist

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[choccy-milky]

Hello there!

I've been a huge fan of your art of Seb and Clora here on Tumblr for quite some time now. Maybe a year? Idk time is weird aksbjs. Anyway, I'm an artist myself, and I was just wondering, put simply, whats your art process? Like how you shade and color and stuff.

Anyway, have a nice day! And uh- sorry if this is awkward sksbdn.

DAMN youve basically been here since day 1 THANK YOUU😭 im glad you like my stuff!! and ur not awkward at all!!🥹💖💖 and i actually posted a timelapse of my process on twitter not that long ago, so ill post it here as well!

as you can see seb takes me the longest LMAOO hes such a menace for me to draw still...and i dont even think seeing my process helps since its just so much trial and error and warping until it looks right BAHAHA (this is from like a month ago and i ALREADY think seb looks off here too 💀) but my process is super simple, i just colour and cell shade on multiply and then i add a grain texture on soft light 10% at the end. i dont rly do anything fancy for colouring, bc i used to over-render my art and make it really complicated, but now im a fan of just having it look kinda...flat? if that makes sense LOL. i like it aesthetically AND its also easier. OH also something i add to the end of almost all my pieces is this auto-action from clip studio assets which basically adjusts the hue/saturation/brightness. here's an example of what the original flat colours look like vs. when i add this filter:

even if you dont have clip studio the same effect could be achieved with just manually tweaking with the hue/saturation levels afterwards, but i like this filter just cuz its easy and makes the colours more how i like them HOPE THIS HELPS💖💖

[onlydijah]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ BAD HABIT ❪ INTERLUDE ❫

𝜗𝜚 CATCH IT! — dislike to lovers, both are still in high school, no warnings i think

𝜗𝜚 WORDS FROM ME! — hi i wrote this at like 3 am so my apologies if its not good😭 idk if im gonna continue this but if i do i it’ll be a 4-parter!! plot was inspired by some book i read i lwk forgot the title (😓😓)

𓂃 ִֶָ𐀔 — word count, 1.3K

THE MOTONOUS BUZZING of the pasty white fluorescent lights vibrated throughout the sterile, lifeless room as an older, chubby man paced around the spacious area. “I don’t even know what our game plan is here ken. I… ugh.” he spoke, feebly.

The younger teenager shrunk deeper in his seat, reverting back to his signature manspread. He looked around unsteadily, praying he didn’t accidentally meet his coach’s disappointed eye and let out a laugh.

As the dull melody of clicking footsteps and clock chimes continued, a million and one thoughts swirled through each other’s heads. While one was more focused on what he would eat for dinner tonight, another grappled with the fact that his star baseball player was as good as gone.

“Do you have anything? anything to say for yourself?” The frustrated man exhaled as he plopped down on his worn office chair, the wheels scooting it back a little upon his impact. “13 violations is absolutely crazy young man, your mom ever tell you ‘if you dont have anything nice to say, hold your tongue?’ god, we’re lucky the committee let you off easy the other 12 times, but I fear they’ve realized the way you act out on the pitch far outweighs any positives your talent grants you.”

The implication of career ending consequences in his coach’s outburst made the boy stand straight in his seat, “Huh? waddyamean, I would say my teasing adds charm.”

“Right… right! How about we go through some of your charming encounters, shall we?” The elder kissed his teeth as his hands rustled their way through the stacks of papers on his desk.

“That actually isn’t necessary!” Kenji responded suddenly with a nervous chuckle and uncomfortable grin, lunging across the desk in an attempt to stop his coach from reading his rather… vulgar jibes.

“No no, I think it's very necessary actually,” his coach remarked, raising his hand high to prevent the boy from reaching his documents. The younger boy fell face flat on the desk, choosing to just lay his head there as the man in front of him listed off the many crude actions he had been reported for.

“Are you kidding me? What does his face shape have to do with you throwing a beanball at his head?!”

“Ummmm.. so it was throwing me off the whole game so i had to like— even out his proportions.. ya’know?” Kenji answered sparingly, contorting his fingers and emphasizing each word he responded with so as to get his point across. “That’s not a valid reason and you know that.” his coach rebutted, shaking his head with distaste.

He loosened his grip and the pamphlet dropped with a loud “thud”. Raking his hands through his graying, jet black hair he began, “Listen, I'm gonna try and find a way to get you out of this— but there's no guarantee they won't find a way to terminate your scholarship. Ill have an answer for you by tomorrow.”

“Ouff.” The younger male let out a heavy exhale. “That bad?” he cringed.

“That bad.”

The rest of that day was ruined for Ken as his only hope of starting a successful baseball career was entirely in his nimble-minded coach’s hands. Easy to guess he didn't have much faith in him.

He roamed aimlessly around the massive halls of his school, taking note of every detail that the scattered decor offered. The curve of the walls when he was about to enter the gym, how the lights dimmed when he got close to the designated faculty/staff areas, and the navy blue bean bags littered across the library that helped transform the original cold, uninviting room into a welcoming space for all.

He admired how many windows the academy had, leading beautiful, warm natural light to pour from literally everywhere. He found comfort and belonging in the school as he strode, the expectation of being kicked out heavy on his shoulders only strengthened his love for the establishment.

Eyes lightly stinging from unpoured tears caused him to clench his eyes and shake his head frantically— his soft locks swinging across his face before he pushed them back into their place.

“Hello? Kenj.”

“Huh? Oh. Hi [name].”

“What?” She shrugged apathetically. “I didn't mean to ruin your main character moment but I needed your half of the history assignment like— yesterday.” she deadpanned, moving her hands around frantically.

“That wasnt due until Thursday!” Kenji negated, turning towards the girl. The height difference was quite intimidating from an outside perspective, but nevertheless the girl continued to argue.

“Are you actually illiterate? Like is there anything up there?” she pointed to his skull. “PLEASE let me know because if not I will gladly sign you up for the reading comprehension classes my little cousin takes.” she scoffed aggressively, turning the lightweight ring she had on her finger excessively.

“I’m alright, thank you.” Kenji sassed, pulling out his phone to “check his syllabus”. A couple beats of silence passed before he pressed his lips into a thin line and smiled.

“Oh my god.”

“I'm not stupid. Here.” He spat as he opened his backpack and lightly shoved a manilla folder into the girl's chest. “You're so irritating, like— why get me worked up in the first place?!” she pushed him back lightly. “You're evil. I can’t even—“ she rambled, unconsciously letting Kenji push her into the direction of the cafeteria. “See, this is entertaining!” He gushed, opening the cafeteria door and letting go of the girls backpack. “Bye friend!” he cheesed, turning back around to look for his clique— wherever they were.

The cafeteria was bright and energetic today, students laughing and arguing supplied audio for the usually silent enclosure; the clicking and clacking of plates and trays held a soothing melody for the ears of everybody there to enjoy while they worked and ate.

“Ohhhmygod that's crazy. He can't just do that can he?” Nia murmured as students bustled by their table to meet their friends. “Its not his fault, i'm here on scholarship so technically the school can revoke it whenever they want.” Kenji clarified.

“That bites man, im sorry.” she sympathized, shoving 3 sticks of strawberry pocky in her mouth. “S’okay. Coach Hayashi will find a way out for me. He always has.” he tried to reason, arms cradling his pounding head.

Nia dropped her pocky and rolled her eyes. “Now you're just lying through your teeth.” she chuckled. “Whatever.” Ken huffed, grimacing as his headache got worse.

“OVER MY DEAD BODY.” The younger woman fussed, slamming the door. “Cmon, [name] its not such a bad thing!” her counselor eargly hooted, “You’ll only be doing it for a week— max. And… well, you dont really have much of a choice anyway.”

The student exaggeratedly flopped onto the cream colored bean bag, glancing back at the colorful walls of Mrs.Aoki’s room. “Theres nobody else up for it?” she sighed grabbing a multicolored throw pillow; hugging it close against her chest, “I’ll take literally anybody else.”

“Im afraid not.” her words echoed around the lively expanse, bouncing around the colorful furniture and across the motivational poster spreads on the walls. “Be grateful he’s even up for this. Listen— the only person who can strain this arrangement even more now is you. So if you want to ruin your chances of ever getting into a good university, go ahead.”

The veiled wisdom hidden between the statement of the older woman became loud and clear against the young girls ear. “Your right.” she conceded. “Ill be there tomorrow.”

“Thats the spirit!” Aoki rejoiced, offering her pupil a soft smile.

© @onlydijah on tumblr. DO NOT copy, translate, or claim any of my works as yours. thank you! 💘

masterlist

[astrophileous]

DEREK TALKING TO LITTLE BUG WAS ADORABLE I'M NOT DOING WELL (i might just be touch starved idk)

also derek's definitely suuuper overprotective like even more when bug is pregnant, it's Bad

You're touch-starved, I'm touch-starved, we're all touch-starved boo. Isn't that why we're here fantasizing about fictional men :")

but omg yeah yeah yeah I see your vision. I think bcs of what happened to her, the doctor would recommend Extra Maternity Care for Bug. like Derek would've already been bad if it was a normal pregnancy, but as soon as he heard the word "risky" from the doctor's mouth, it was as if all sense flew out of the window

btw this turned out to be more emotional than I planned KJKJAASSJ I'M SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Derek's voice boomed in the middle of the HQ bullpen, attracting the attentions of fellow agents nearby including those of your team who were still in the office.

You rotated your head left and right, searching for the object of Derek's sudden vexation, only to realize a few seconds later that his eyes had been staring straight at you.

"You're talking to me?"

Instead of answering, Derek marched the few feet of distance separating you from him. "What are you doing, Bug?"

You raised your eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Um, strapping my gun to its holster?"

"You're not going out there."

"Excuse me?"

It had been a few weeks since the whole fiasco of your abduction. After a few days of staying in the hospital and a couple more weeks of bedrest, your doctor had finally cleared you back for duty. You were beginning to get antsy about going back to work, but your doctor's note was clear: you needed to take it easy once you were back, considering that the rough start to your pregnancy meant more risks looming overhead.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but for the sake of your baby, you swallowed the hard pill without a fight. Hotch couldn't be more understanding when you explained what was going on to him. He promised you that you could sit out any strenuous and potentially harming activities during the course of any investigation that might have fallen on the BAU's lap. Your fellow teammates were just as considerate, vowing to cover your ass at any instance you might need.

All and all, everyone around you was pretty clear-headed about the whole situation.

Except for Derek.

Since your last doctor visit, Derek had been driving you nuts with his overprotective streak. It was adorable, at first. The fact that he was extremely worried something might happen to you and the baby that he kept refusing to leave your side even when you were only stepping out to grab the mail or pay for takeout. But then, it got worse.

While his overprotectiveness seemed to have infiltrated every aspect of your life, it previously never affected your job at any capacity. Until now. You were seething internally over the fact that Derek had chosen to do this--to speak to you like this--at your place of work, where your coworkers could listen in to every word exchanged between the two of you.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you took a deep breath to press down the frustration, before your leveled voice spoke, "It's just a routine questioning, Derek. I'll be fine."

"You're not going out on the field, Bug."

"Derek." His name sounded like a threat through your teeth. "I'm not going out there to see a suspect, or to insert myself in a dangerous situation. Emily and I are just going to take a quick drive down to Woodbridge to interview the victim's family. Nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, Morgan," Emily's voice chimed in from somewhere to your left. "It's gonna be fine. It's just routine questioning. I'm sure we can ma--"

Emily stopped talking and threw her hands in surrender once she noticed the daggers in Derek's eyes. You watched as she scurried off, as far away from the two of you as possible.

"You promised you'll take it easy," Derek said.

"I am taking it easy! I told you, it's just a normal questioning!"

Your own anger was threatening to burst by this point. Before one or the two of you could say something further--something that would warrant a lengthy call from the HR department--Derek tugged you towards the vacant pantry in the corner. Once inside, he closed the door behind him to shut out the rest of the floor from your private conversation.

"Do you realize how insane you've been acting?" Your voice dripped with anger. "I know you're worried, I get it. I appreciate it. But jeez, Derek, you aren't letting me breathe here. I can't do anything without you lurking around my fucking neck!"

The last echo of your voice dissipated into thin air, and yet, Derek still seemed to be rooted in the same spot he had been standing on since the two of you entered this pantry. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before that intense gaze was back to lighting fire on your skin.

"Do you know you were dead?"

"What?"

"In that basement. You were dead when I found you."

The frown between your eyebrows cleared once you realized Derek was talking about the abduction.

He had been refusing to talk about that ever since you came back home.

"I couldn't find a pulse when I got to you. I was the one who did the chest compressions before the paramedics arrived. I saw the heart monitor, Bug. You flatlined." Derek took a large step forward. "You were dead, and I held you in my arms. So forgive me if you think I'm being crazy with all of this, but the sight of you not breathing isn't exactly something I wanna see twice in my life."

The weight of Derek's admission settled heavily in the center of the room. Little by little, the ice that had hardened inside your chest was starting to melt. You looked deeper into Derek's unrelenting gaze, realizing that beneath the irrational protectiveness actually lay a justifiable fear he was trying to hide.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Derek," you offered sincerely. "But you can't keep me on a leash just because you're scared of hypothetical scenarios. The past is just that: the past. I'm safe now. Me and the baby are safe and we're here with you."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. But you will drive me away if you keep this up," you told him. "Tell you what, I'll sit this one out for now. Just don't expect much from me for next time, yeah?"

"Thank you," Derek breathed out in relief. He closed the few feet of distance between the two of you in two long strides before securing you in his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to your hairline. "Thank you."

"Remember, this is a two-way street, Mister," you said as you looked straight into his eyes. "I'm expecting compromises to be made."

Derek flashed you a charming grin before answering, "Yes, ma'am."

When he pulled you in for a kiss, it was as if every remaining frustration in your bones dissolved into thin air.

The next few weeks managed to transpire in a mutual compromise. You tried to appease Derek's mind by choosing your responsibilities accordingly, while Derek tried reining in his protective instinct, even if miserably.

Still, even with the intensity lessened, sometimes Derek's antics were just too outrageous to excuse.

"Derek, you know this is absolute crazy, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek shrugged before adjusting the hold he had around your body.

It was the day of the earthquake drill at Quantico. Just thirty minutes prior, everyone in the building had been directed to evacuate from the emergency exit in a single file. Though it did explain the reason why you found yourself stuck in the middle of a barely moving line on the staircase, it didn't, however, explain the reason why you found yourself being carried in Derek's arms, bridal style.

"This is completely ridiculous," you grumbled once the line started moving again. "Everyone is staring."

"That's just 'cause you're pretty, Bug."

A few steps down, you could see JJ and Spencer stealing glances towards where you and Derek were standing. Your pleading eyes caught JJ's at one point, but the blonde woman only raised her thumbs up before the moving line made her disappear from view.

"You do know I'm still able to support myself on my own two feet, right?"

"Of course I do, Bug," Derek replied. "But why would you have to when I'm strong enough to carry you?"

Derek's answer made you groan in annoyance. A series of laughter from above compelled you to look up at the source, seeing two women whispering among themselves while openly pointing at your direction. You buried your face in the column of Derek's neck to escape their scrutiny, feeling the embarrassment traveled up your neck in a flaming red heat.

You were so never going to live this down.

[genericpuff]

I wonder why christian misrepresentation are rarely talked about if compared to other religion misrepresentation. Like, I've seen people really vocal about Greek myths misrepresentation in LO and such (and it's valid because it's a culture and religion) but I rarely saw the same thing with christian even though there are many media who use christian religion innacurately, to the point where it comes off as using it as an aesthetic and not a proper religion.

Is it because of rampant religious trauma especially in western world? No ulterior motives on this question. I'm not a christian and yet I'm curious about this. I apologize if this sounds harsh.

I obviously don't have The Answer(tm) to this but personally speaking (and I'm about to get VERY personal here so take this with MOUNTAINS OF SALT), I think it's just the obvious - Christian mythology is one of the most well-documented and strongly protected out of virtually any other religion on the planet. Especially here in the West, it's commonplace for kids to go to Sunday school, for couples to have Christian weddings even if they're not practising Christians themselves, even the American anthem references the Christian God. It's simply not as easy to 'misrepresent' it because the representation is written into our very fabric of society. Even Greece itself is primarily made up of Orthodox Christians.

So anyone that does 'misrepresent' it are either completely mislead hardcore Christians, or people who are doing it intentionally, such as with the intent to make a parody of it or to deconstruct it through a different context or whatever have you. And of course, people will still get mad at those things, if you're implying that people aren't vocal about Christian misrepresentation then frankly IDK what to tell you there LOL If you want a contextual example in the realm of webtoons, Religiously Gay was dragged to hell and back during its launch for having a very crude and insulting depiction of St. Michael, and frankly, yeah I don't disagree because what the fuck is this-

(like at best it's just terrible character design lmao that said, there's also plenty else to criticize Religiously Gay for, including its fetishy representation of gay relationships and the fact that it's still just the "naive person who looks and acts like a child hooks up with mean person in a position of power" trope, blech, but the character design is definitely the first thing you notice)

There are even plenty of hardcore Christians who will deadass claim "misrepresentation" over things that ARE factually correct but they just haven't read the actual Bible and simply cherry pick what works for their own agenda. And of course those people are routinely called out by people like myself who know for a fact that Jesus wouldn't have promoted the war crimes that many modern day Christians are committing and justifying today. So it really depends on the definition of "misrepresentation" here.

The issue specifically with LO and Rachel that I personally call her out for (and many others) is that she's called herself a "folklorist" and claimed she's so much more knowledgeable on Greek myth than anyone else, while making a complete mockery of the original mythologies while not being honest about her intent as to whether LO is actually supposed to be a legitimate retelling OR a parody (because it sure acts like the latter more than the former, but she still seems to expect us to take it seriously and consider her knowledge of Greek myth superior?) Which leads to a lot of her teenage audience claiming shit like "Persephone went down to the underworld willingly" and "Apollo did assault Persephone in the original myths actually" and the classic "why would Lore Olympus lie or make up fake myths?"

You just can't pull off this extent of erasure with Christian mythology because we have a whole ass book of it that's been preserved, sold on shelves, and systematically integrated into society for thousands of years. Of course, there are people who will still try their damned best to twist the Bible to match their own bigotry with the whole "Jesus hates gays" bullshit (he would never), but it's met with equal amounts of 'misrepresentation' that are actually fully well-read and are intentionally subverting and changing things to either critique, parody, or restore the original intent of a lot of stories in the Bible without all the manufactured right-wing crap.

Greek myth, on the other hand, has some stories that are well preserved, and others, not so much. And in the modern day outside of the poems and hymns, you'll also rarely, if ever, see anyone use stories from Greek myth to ostracize, torture, and murder other people. "Misrepresenting Christianity" is more often done by actual Christians who are using the Bible to commit hate crimes than the people who have actually read the Bible and are just taking creative liberties with it for the sake of deconstructing / parodying / analyzing / subverting it. Veggie Tales "misrepresents" Christian stories because obviously Moses wasn't a fucking cucumber lmao but it still accomplishes its goal by retelling Christian stories in a way that's fun and educational for children.

By comparison (on the whole, I'm not comparing LO to Veggie Tales LMAO) LO just isn't clear in its intentions beyond Rachel's initial statements that she was trying to "deconstruct" the myths, while labelling herself as a folklorist. Therefore, I'm going to criticize how she does it because the way she's done it up until now has been very mishandled and has resulted in a lot of misinterpretations of the myths simply for the sake of fandom. And yes, these people exist in Christian media as well - they're called TV evangelists.

And that's my (very heavy) two cents.