#im spoilering in the next tag so stop reading

[vimoftheforest]

canonically , my rooks relationship with Lucanis ended after he walked off mid smooch, and then started Emmrichs romance 💀💚

[fallenwhumpee]

"An Hour."

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Hospital settings, aftermath of captivity, mentioned death.

Medic, despite what their job would suggest, wasn't a caregiver. They were just a mechanic working on circuits, not who carefully kept the whole mechanism running. They could fix people, but it was that. Someone would have to take over the aftermath.

Much to Medic's relief, Leader was a caregiver. A good one, even.

Too good, they lately noticed. Too good that it was starting to make Medic worried. But just like every other day, Medic knocked the infirmary door in exactly same time, before opening it fully. Youngest was asleep in the hospital bed - Medic had said Leader that it was unnecessary, but Leader  brought one anyway - and at last drops of their IV.

"An hour," Leader muttered. At this point it felt like a ritual. So, without a word, Medic moved and changed Youngest's IV to antibiotics as Leader deserted the room silently. Probably to sleep.

Good, Medic thought. Leader needed it.

Medic made their way to the armchair, only to see Leader's office keys on it. For a moment, they considered giving it back. They respected privacy, but they were also curious. For the last one month and a half, all Leader did was looking for Youngest, caring for Youngest or staying in their office. The first two was understandable, but the third...

Now Medic could learn whatever Leader was doing in their office.

Medic hesitated. They shouldn’t invade Leader’s privacy—Leader had done nothing to earn suspicion, at all. And Leader never broke anyone's boundries, so Medic doing it to them was just wrong. But something had been gnawing at the back of Medic’s mind for weeks now, something beyond the usual worry for Youngest. Leader’s behavior, so single-minded, so intense, felt wrong. So wrong for someone almost obsessed with making the future better. And if there was something in that office that could explain it...

Steeling themselves, Medic turned and walked down the hall to Leader’s office. The key slid into the lock with an ease that almost felt too simple. "Where's Leader?" Medic shouted. Leader's room was wide open and Leader wasn't there.

"Went for a quick walk," Right Hand shouted back.

Medic took a deep breath. "Okay," they muttered. With a simple twist, the door creaked open. Medic slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind them slowly. The room was dim, the only light filtering through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the walls. At first glance, it looked like any other office—neat, organized, professional. Just like how Leader liked to keep everything. Medic opened the lights.

Notes. Dozens of them, pinned to a board on the wall, scattered across the desk, and even taped to the edges of the bookshelves, almost creating a wallpaper. Most were in Leader’s precise handwriting, detailing locations, names, dates, and other pieces of information that, together, painted a picture out of a detective's office. Medic’s gaze was drawn to a map on the wall, marked with pins and red string connecting various points. They moved closer, recognizing the locations as places where incidents had occurred—break-ins, disappearances, attacks. All related to Youngest.

Their heart pounded as they picked up a file from the desk. It had a picture, the person's face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking who it was. Medic had seen that face around Whumper—one of the underlings of them. The person had been found dead two weeks ago, the cause still under investigation. There were detailed reports about them, autopsies, locations, biographies... informations that Medic doubted Leader had the authority to kno let alone storing.

They set the file down, their hands trembling slightly. Leader had been gathering evidence, but it wasn’t just about finding Youngest. It was about something more.

Another photo on the desk caught their eye. Medic took it, revealing more photos, more notes underneath. Some were crossed out, others highlighted. A list of names—people connected to the kidnapping—each one with a note beside it: confirmed dead, under surveillance, possible lead.

Some of these people were no longer a threat because they were dead. Was it coincidence, or had Leader...?

The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped Medic out of their thoughts. They hurriedly closed the folder and placed thr picture back on the desk, glancing around to make sure everything was as they’d found it. The door clicked shut just as the office door opened.

Leader stepped inside, looking tired but alert. They froze for a moment, eyes narrowing as they stared in the sight of Medic standing in their office.

“What are you doing here?” Leader’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a warning.

Medic tried to keep their expression neutral, forcing a casual shrug qs if they weren’t digging through the room for the last ten minutes. “You left your keys on the chair. Thought I’d drop them off.”

Leader’s gaze flicked to the keys in Medic’s hand, then back to their face. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Leader crossed the room, taking the keys with a nod.

“Thank you,” they said, their tone polite but distant. “Please wait for my return next time.”

Medic nodded, feeling the tension in the air like a physical weight. They turned to leave, but couldn’t help one last glance at the desk, at the folder now lying innocently on the surface.

Leader didn’t miss the look. “Is there something else?”

“No,” Medic replied quickly, shaking their head. “Just... take care of yourself, okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Leader’s expression relaxed, a smile so soft and tender taking over. “Don't worry. Byt you should get some rest too.”

How could Medic be suspicious of them when all Leader did was worrying and caring for the team? Shoving the guilt down, they forced a smile and left the office.

-•-

Later that day, Medic was in the break room when the news broke. The television mounted on the wall buzzed with static before the anchor’s voice cut in, somber and urgent.

“We interrupt this program with breaking news. Henchman, a key figure in the recent string of criminal activities linked to the late terrorist Whumper, was found dead earlier this evening. Authorities are investigating, but details remain scarce at this time.”

Medic’s blood ran cold. Henchman—another name on Leader’s list. Dead. Just like the others.

They stood frozen, the room spinning around them. The timeline didn’t add up. Leader couldn’t have done it—they had only left the office for ten minutes, not enough time to cross the city and back. But the coincidences were too many, too pointed.

When Medic next saw Leader, they couldn’t help but study their face, searching for anything. But Leader looked even more drained than the last time, still trying to hold it together desperately. When Medic mentioned the news, Leader’s response was calm, almost indifferent.

“Tragic, but not unexpected,” Leader muttered, shrugging slightly. They weren’t even focused— they looked like they could just collapse and take a twenty four hour nap. “Agency was after them. It was only a matter of time.”

Medic nodded slowly, but the uneasy feeling in their gut only grew. There was something, something that was beyond their understanding. But as Leader walked away, Medic knew one thing for certain— Leader was doing something wrong. It was either their sleeping habits or the team had a huge problem.

-•-

Soo, have another random one. This is standalone, but I wrote this with "A Score to Settle" in my mind. Not quite part two, but I began writing with that intention.

[todayisafridaynight]

and if i think of jo being really good at extremely niche things for masato's sake who's going to stop me

[master-of-heroes]

.

[pika-blur]

funniest thing about claptastic voyage is that it gives you an achievement that spoils a twist 5 seconds before its revealed aslkdajslkdj

[awearywritersworld]

men are so quick to blame the gods

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist

humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.

so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.

nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.

that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.

luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.

you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.

when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.

"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.

a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.

it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.

"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.

a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."

"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."

he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.

as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.

the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.

you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.

"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."

you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.

"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."

"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."

"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."

"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."

your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."

you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.

"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.

"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"

"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."

sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.

over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.

it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.

it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"

your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"

"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."

though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."

"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."

you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."

it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.

he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."

"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"

"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."

you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."

he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.

"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"

he muses over your question briefly.

"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?

you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."

"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"

you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"

"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."

"oh. well that's, um, good."

he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.

"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.

"stop what?"

"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."

he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."

"see? that's much better."

"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.

you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.

the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.

when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.

"w-what do you want?"

"i seem to recall asking you a question."

you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.

"i'm not crying," you declare.

sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."

you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."

yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.

and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.

"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.

your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."

"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.

"don't flatter yourself."

he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.

he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.

but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."

you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.

"promise?"

for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—

"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."

"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."

"...night, brat."

less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.

though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.

he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.

he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.

at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.

when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.

you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."

"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"

he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.

you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"

he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."

you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."

he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.

he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."

"but you won't."

he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"

"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."

he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.

"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.

the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.

"i don't know."

"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."

you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.

it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.

he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.

you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.

"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."

just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.

"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"

the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"

[cl6teen]

all i want is you ❀ cl16

in which charles thinks he can stay just friends with you after a breakup (spoiler alert: he cant)

read part two here.

contains: social media au, ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader, angsty charles and yn living her best life, mentions of charles’s new girlfriend, charles is a confusing man

note: something small just to feed the kids yk, pls don’t read into the twt dates i was too lazy to change them

📍south of france

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 100,675 others

yourusername this travel thing is kind of fun 🇫🇷

tagged kikagomes

view all 1237 comments

lilymhe my wifey is so pretty

alexalbon okay then just date atp

yourusername wdym? we already are

alexalbon why do i put up with this

lilymhe because you love us duh

pierregasly no photo credits or tag? i’m (deeply) hurt

yourusername oh please you complained the whole time and then made me and kika take photos of you

pierregasly that is not a crime

kikagomes my stylish icon 🤍

yourusername te amo te amo

carlossainz55 coming to spain next i hope?

yourusername who knows 🤭

landonorris actually she’s coming to the uk with me next

carlossainz55 😢😢 yn you betray me

yourusername you know you’re my favourite carlos

landonorris ouch

charles_leclerc very pretty

yourusername thank you charlie

luvleclrc it’s so sweet that he still comments on her photos

user i miss them real bad

4ouryn are we getting any more travel vlogs soon?

yourinstagram im working on it! it’ll be out around this friday :)

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, landonorris, and 1,235,166 others

charles_leclerc good times at home

view all 7,455 comments

user charles leclerc the man that you are 😭😭

user seeing him with a baby is just what i needed on my tl

yourusername two cuties at sea!

charles_leclerc so you think i’m cute 🤔

yourusername only because of the baby in your hands

charles_leclerc you hurt my feelings y/n

user omg charles still flirting with yn is so crazy

user idk if it’s flirting per se, they’re just friends now

user they were so cute i still don’t get why they broke up

user charles broke up with her bc he wanted to focus on racing

carlossainz55 somebody wants to be a daddy

charles_leclerc don’t put words in my mouth mate 😅

user is this a joke ? 👀

pierregasly i see what he’s doing

charles_leclerc ??

landonorris he’s cooking

alexandrasaintmleux so handsome

liked by charles_leclerc

twitter

📍 lake como, italy

liked by alexalbon, kikagomes, carlossainz55, and 97,333 others

yourusername loving italia 🇮🇹

carlossainz55 next stop madrid?

yourusername we’ll see, won’t we

landonorris i better be invited

carlossainz55 you know your way here mate

user omg the ferrari flag

yourusername deep down everyone is a ferrari fan :)

user should we read into that

yourusername no lmao

lilymhe travelling with you is the best

yourusername what would i do without you

alexalbon everyday i wake up

user no charles like or comment :( i guess he really is dating that girl

user justice for yn literally

user they still follow each other tho but i feel so bad for both girls

kikagomes i have no clue how anyone could break up with you, like seriously

yourusername me too, but life is too short to worry about things like that babe

user 👀 charles shade??

user i think we should stop tying y/n’s identity to charles in general

liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 updated their story 2 hours ago. landonorris updated their story 1 hour ago.

📍madrid, spain

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, lilymhe, and 433,125 others

yourusername troublemakers in madrid

view all 5544 comments

landonorris who are those studs in the first photo

yourusername so humble !

alexalbon potential summer soft launch?

yourusername who knows

user ugh why is she always with those two, i swear she wants them so bad

yourusername ew no those two are my sons 🤱

pierregasly who’s the daddy 🤔

landonorris don’t say it like that yn 😭😭

carlossainz55 i’m older than you though, no?

yourusername no carlos it’s like, in spirit

user WHO IS THAT MAN???? is that carlos?? lando??

yourusername no! but he’s certainly someone 🤭

user that’s charles right?

user he’s in monaco right now, it couldn’t be him plus he’s got a gf

lilymhe okay mysterious girl

yourusername i love to keep people on their toes

lilymhe but seriously text me and tell me who that is

kikagomes girl me too

user shout out to yn for reuniting carlando!!

liked by yourusername

yourusername updated their story 5 mins ago

carlos’s phone 📞

charles

are you with y/n right now

i know you are

carlos

then why ask m8

yes i’m with her, why?

charles

is she mad at me

carlos

that’s a stupid question, but i don’t know man, she hasn’t brought you up

and lando and i aren’t going to

what’s the phrase?

poke the bear

actually, i shouldn’t compare her to that

but i would be mad if i were her

charles

who’s that man she posted the other day??

you’ve been with her during her entire spain trip yes? what does he look like, do you know him?

carlos

he is a good friend of mine yes

i somewhat set them up, things have been going good, they’re both here at our dinner

charles

aiii carlos! why would you set them up??

how could you do this to me??

carlos

did you forget that you broke with her? to focus on racing?

which would be fine if you didn’t get another girl just a month after?

i don’t even know how she could stay friends with you, but she asked me to find a guy for her

i am a good friend, so i found someone

if you’re jealous, you shouldn’t have broken up in the first place

charles

i’m not jealous at all carlos

carlos

then why are you stalking her account and asking me about a man she is seeing?

if you’re so concerned, text her yourself

charles

argh you’re no help

your phone 📞

charlie

hey

i miss you

a lot

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 4

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

aaaaaaand i'm back for another chapter! Again at my desk with my reading buddy (Charlie) tea for this chapter is a soy matcha latte.

So, I thought the conference was a few days from when Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan was in the cave, but im assuming it's annual? Since he was in the caves for a year? p191

Ah JK. the top of the next page - the conference is every 4 years 192

I'm actually so stoked for this demon blood reveal. I want to know how its spun in this "version" of the story p 193

I love how confused shen yuan is, he's still over here thinking he's the villain when he has so clearly been upgraded to Love Interest/Damsel in Distress. IDK what to tell you pp193-194

Okay so now luo binghe is 17. Question though- do we ever actually get an age for Shen Qingqiu? p195

This kid is still here simping. Actually at this point I dont even know who is the simp. Luo Binghe is openly heart eyes and Qin Qingqiu isn't even aware of his own feelings but the way he describes future luo binghe is too much LOL. It is a trainwreck to read. p195

Binghe: *all flirt* Shen Qingqiu: shit. fuck. ah. I need to not fuck this plot point p196

LOL at Shen Qingqiu taking the carriage "I'm frail and indisposed" x3 twink energy p200

not the snacks too LOL p200

oh no! Luo Binghe thinking that Shen Qingqiu has any feelings at all for Liu Mingyan p201

But also then trying to make Shen Qingqiu jealous. Oh boy.

Let's take a second to appreciate how clear and concise the point system is for the conference. like this was well thought out- I love it. It's also giving a bit of hunger games spectator energy p205

This guy (Shen Yuan) already knows the outcome, and yet he's going to gamble (AND GAMBLE BIG) anyways p 208

I cannot with this group following Luo Binghe "my feet hurt :(" p215

why the foot fetish material 💀 217

RIP to the OG timeline's harem- the have been felled to the Demon Realm's Nu Yuan Chen p218

omg this is a massacre p220

awww at liu qingge not letting Shen Qingqiu join the fray. I feel like these two probably have a shit ton of fics pairing them p223

THE HEAD SPIDER WHAT pp226-227

Shen Qingqiu's entrance though!!!!!!!! p227

Shen Qingqiu is even getting the flower poison plot (points for my love interest/damsel in distress plotline) "Stop. Do not pass go. The girl you're supposed to pick the flower for, Qin Wanyue, is right next to us, watching- and you want to deflower it in her presence, and for a big, strong man to boot? Leave your wife some dignity, all right?!" p231

oooo now we get details on who the spy is. Enter Shang Qinghua p233

Shang Qinghhua deserves an Oscar for this performance 236

And more damsel shen qingqiu 242

the miscommunications! oh gosh why is this scene so painful. They're talking about two different things. pp247-248

Oh no. Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan is not okay :( p257

oh no oh no oh no -> heartbreak points?!?!?!? this is so sad p259

OMG WAIT WHAT AN END TO THIS CHAPTER. THE AUTHOR IS HERE TOO???????????? WHAT THE HECK!!!

RE: Who the spy is- A SPY WITHIN A SPY?

Thats all for today!

The twist really twisted me at the end there. AH. I can't wait to read more. Will they work together? will they be mortal enemies??? Will this be the author attempting to usurp Shen Yuan????? I DONT KNOW????

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

A fairytale we will never forget. (Wanderer/f!Reader)

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ You are a failed writer of the Academia and Nahida gives you something to write about. Post Sumeru Arc! Wanderer x f!academiaReader *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴A/N: OK! LISTEN- I have so much I need to write and My Precious Treasures is giving me trouble. Let me have my small little scaramouche man to cheer me up until my writing gets better (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*). (Side note: not everything is cannon compliant, Im still on last act of story- but have been semi spoiled lol cause Kaveh stole my heart and the event was sooo cute!) *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Word Count: 3.3k *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Tags: if bickering was cute, writing stories together, lots of fluff, light spoilers, writer will do anything for inspiration, poor be'tad

───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ───────────────

You've failed again and would you be surprised it's not the first time you have failed.

It might have been the sixth, but you have lost count when your writings could fill ten books worth. You look at the scrolls limply hanging off your desk, the textbooks pilling so high they create a safety hazard of 'homicide by books'.

It's not right. It's not correct. It's not factual. It's not accurate. That's all they say, when they dismiss you with a wave of their hand and close the doors in front of sleepless eyes.

You want to scream, because it's not fucking accurate when a measly academia scholar like yourself cannot even read non-biased readings that do not have the author as Great Sage.

You needed something to take your mind off this.

You needed a break.

"You want to write a fantasy novel?" Aether comments munching on a stick of grilled meat. He looked off put by your comment as his companion Paimon speaks up, "Paimon doesn't understand how more writing is taking a break from writing?"

"It's a break because I can enjoy myself! No need to look at which theory makes more sense than the old. No more citing ancient sages that lived hundreds of years ago that are outdated. A good old fantasy."

Aether rolls his eyes, "And what defines 'good old fantasy'?"

Your eyes shine as you point directly at him. He scoffs as he tries another vendor's dish, "I mean- You have fought literal gods right! Or at least people tell me you have fought monsters that are as strong as gods!" You pause as you comment on your own delusions, "Well- I'm not sure how strong a god is, but it sounds impressive."

Aether is about to stop you as you continue, "Oh! Oh, what about the time you slayed a dragon? That sounds super interesting."

He groans in a way that you sense is that every time someone mentions the words 'dragon', that he must correct them, "For the last time. We didn't 'slay' it. We purified the crystal that made Dvalin sick."

"...So, your saying saved a kingdom from dark magic and that is not fantastical enough!"

You slam a couple mora onto the next vendor as Aether finished his latest dish. Sure, that money was for the breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next two days but what could be better than breathing, live, material!

You plead, "Please! One story, any story! I need something to jump start my brain that is not a library book."

Aether looks up the sky longingly you would narrate it as a 'take me now' moment; but surely not from you.

"Any story?"

You beam nodding as Aether reluctantly says yes.

.

.

.

"So that's the story. Sorry about this but I need to be back in Liyue by tomorrow and knowing (Y/N), she can um- be a lot."

You can't understand the rest of the sentence, but you see Aether talking to a smaller girl with leaves in her hair and flowers that bloomed around her.

At least that is what you say, but behind the boy with a large hat covering his head wore a frown as you could see each flower wilting- dead on the floor fictitiously.

What a buzzkill.

The girl, Nahida is what Aether calls her and she reminds you of sunshine that warms your heart. She smiles as she gives a small wave to you. As she does the boy behind her taps his foot frown never leaving his face.

"I see." And there is an ethereal ring in the small girl’s voice, "Leave it to us, please give the people of Liyue and the him our regards."

"Huh! Us?" A voice speaks at the same time. It was the boy with short purple hair dressed in flowing clothes different than your own. He looked like the wind would parachute him away at any second.

Aether sensing the shift whispered goodbye to you, leaving the room with the small girl and the frowning boy.

The girl speaks up first, "Aether told us of your 'predicament'? She questions because, no, writing a fantasy novel isn't considered a predicament more than getting a thorn stuck in your thumb; compared to how the academia cranks out automatous, encyclopedias of information that are used as the life blood of people’s lives, but in a sweets way she gives respect as she looks in your eyes.

Or so you thought.

"Therefore, he will help you!" And she points her thumb behind her to a balking boy who stomps his foot down. You could have sworn you felt the ground shaking, but that was probably his attitude.

"Wha- I refuse! There is no way I will be helping that baboon." And ouch, because words do hurt but if he had any sense of social norms and could read the room he would not continue. But he did, "You expect me to become one of those mediocre story tellers on the street?"

You glower as you gather any confidence you have in your work, "How dare you. Stories keep people alive!" And he gives you a look as if you are the idiot in the room because stories don't technically keep you alive, but that didn't stop your ramble," They let us share emotional connection with one each other as we can obtain a deeper understanding of people!" Don't say it, remember your manners, “and someone like you that has the emotional capability of a doormat wouldn't understand that!"

You wince as you see the boy’s brow raise underneath his ridiculously large hat, his mouth snarling as he cracks his fingers. It felt like the air was being sucked out of the room.

"Oh, really now?" It sounds like a threat the way his tone bleeds with irritation, "Let’s see who's the doormat once I-"

Nahida, gently places a hand on top of his and the air returns to normal. You let out a gasp that you did not feel you were holding as her voice rings out, "Now children, that's not how to treat each other."

She looks stern? Like a mother that is discipling her child by the way his face writhes into reluctance. She gives you a harsh stare that makes you feel like your own mother is chiding you, "Now, people who ask for favors can't start fighting with the asked. Can they?"

You look down at the floor, digging your heel in, properly chastised, "No... they can't."

She turns to the boy behind, "And people who invite guests into their home..."

He looks reluctant as if this wasn't his first time finishing her sentence, "don't blast them away..."

Blast them away?‌ And you think the right answer should be 'threaten, cause bodily harm, or even joke about causing bodily harm' but the small girl looks content either way.

"Now to start good relationships, we shake hands!" She clasps her hands together smiling.

Neither of you move.

"I rather not take my chances."

"I rather put my hand in boiling water."

Oh yes, this will be wonderful...

You sit down on a bench overlooking the landscape of Sumeru. It was beautiful the way the bustling of the city created a divide between the ethereal beauty of the nature itself to the bustling city life that coexisted with it.

Now that's beautifully said. Wait- but you used the word "beautiful" at least three, not four times now. What could you use instead?

You were about to dive deeper into your thoughts before a voice interrupted.

"Hey baboon!" A voice calls in which you wish was with endearment, because at least that be cuter than plain degrading. The boy pushes a plate of sticky rice plated with different types of fresh fruit, covered with syrupy goodness, "This is disgusting."

He's been doing this a while now, ever since Nahida kicked you two both out of the house with a couple of mora to keep you both full (how nice of her). She commented on 'sharing experiences with one each other', leading you to buy your favorite dessert as an olive branch.

You see the way her pushes the plate off towards the side of the table, "Hey that's my favorite dessert you know!"

And he scoffs folding his hands across his chest, leaning against the chair, "You have the tastebuds of a child then." And of course he continues, because goddamnit he does not know when enough is enough, "Oh- I forgot you are a child trying to create a kid's book."

You don't know which is worse. You going back to your small apartment to keep writing a bleeding thesis paper or you having to deal with this punk.

You take a breath in, you strive for peace, "Well. Then what's your favorite food?"

He rolls his eyes, "I don't have a favorite food."

"Everyone has something they like." You counter because he is not getting off the hook.

He pauses before he replies in pure reluctance, "Tea. The more bitter the better."

Now you're folding your hands across your chest, mirroring him.

"Tea?" You deadpan, "That's not a food."

"Were you not listening? I said I had no favorite food."

This time you scoff, "Well then why don't you like sticky rice?"

"It's disgusting."

"That's not an answer!"

"It is an answer you complete and utterly useless-!"

A third voice, "Excuse me."

You both turn to a server that has seen better days in their effort to survive customer service industry. The man looks at you and then at him, "You need to leave unless you stop yelling at each other. There are others trying to enjoy the view."

You look behind him and indeed others do look frustrated with the boy and you. At least you can read the room before the boy in front of you could, he looked like he was about to argue, and it was an argument he would lose. Slamming a couple of mora with a quick sorry, you grab the boy by his sleeve running out leaving your mango sticky rice behind.

By the time you make it to the top of Sumeru you are huffing and puffing. Air feels like fire as you steady yourself on your kneecaps gasping. Next to you, the boy has every piece of flowing fabric in place, his face not even a drip of sweat upon it. In other words, he looks and probably is way healthier than you.

"How- huff aren't you- dying?" And you say it in a way the means 'how are you standing', 'why are you freakishly healthy' or in a comedic sort of way 'are you even human?'; but his jumps eyes wide as he retorts head up high, "Everyone can run at least that far."

You start to think about your counterparts in the academia and how even a mile run would make you want to never leave your room again, and then you rethink, because Aether is his 'friend?' and that blond hair boy is certainly the least normal boy you know but he might fall into the category of 'everyone' to your interviewee.

That gave you hope.

You sit at a rickety bench underneath tarp that give a nice shade in the sun, fanning your shirt to let air in between all your robes. You notice him standing off to the side, like a cat waiting to be beckoned and that almost makes this time bearably. He must have surrendered, because he sees you eyeing him then the chair across from you and he sit down right on the edge.

"So", you start once you’re sure you can say a whole sentence without wheezing, "I know- that maybe, we got off on the wrong foot," and he opens his mouth for another (probably insensitive) comment and you talk quicker, "but I'm ready to listen to any story you have to share!" There quick and simple.

He closes his mouth, the thin line never shifting in his lips before he huffed, "I don't have a story for you."

And all common courtesy went out the window as you breathe in and out, peace! Peace you say! "Everyone has a story." A twinge of sass, "Like how everyone has a favorite food."

"Fine. I'll be more clear. I have no "fantasy" story that you will want to write."

And you blink, that was not the response you were expecting. You feel the academic spirit ignited in you as you prod for more information, "What do you mean by that?"

He's thinking and you can see thunder clouds brewing in his purple eyes as he clenches his teeth, "You want those dumb fairy tales where idiotic princes go save a damsel huh? Someone who saves you no matter what even though there is no one there!" You describe it as lightning engulfing his eyes as it leaks out with every enunciation in his words. You can feel the hair at the bottom of your neck standing up, "How stupid you all are."

A moment of thought, "Well, if you put it that way it is pretty stupid."

His face contorts in a way that you wonder if your face muscles can do that as well, "Huh?!"

"Yah!" You twiddle you fingers as if trying to connect the dots, "I never said I wanted to write a classic fantasy story! Who gets to say what I will write?" You stand up renewed energy as the cogs move in your mind, "I'm writing this because I want to! Stories are meant to connect us and if I can't hear your story then how the hell am I even supposed to know what to write?"

You don't let him even start. His mouth agape.

"You're right I may be an idiot I will admit. I can't even pass a stupid thesis paper because I am too focused on the fact that every paper I have used as reference sucks the living life out of me faster than I can even graduate." You point a finger towards him, your index finger almost touching his nose and he is spluters, "But Im not an idiot when it comes to sharing others stories."

When you're sure he's not going to start on another rampant of the insipid state of his world you say one last thing. A perfect conclusion.

"We haven't formally introduced ourselves."

His brows furrow, "Ha- I know your name!" He says in a loud voice, but there is less venom this time.

You shake your head, giving little tuts of disappointment, "No silly" he preens at the word but it's payback for him calling you a baboon, "I don't know your name."

The boy eyes cross towards your fingertips as he slaps your hands away, "Get your hand out of my face." You can tell he is thinking.

He gives a sigh, before mulling over the possibility of only one-story telling night vs. a determined author who will bang on his door every day until she gets what she wants. At least that's what you believe he is thinking of.

"You can call me..."

His voice becomes muffled under his hat, and you ask him to repeat again. His violet eyes dart to the side darkening, like saying his name is sooo difficult.

. 

.

.

".... hat guy"

You swear your ears misheard him underneath that large hat he wears as his voice projects to the ground, "Sorry, say that one more time?"

"...Hat...Guy"

This time you blink in incredulous response, "Hat guy?" You give him time to at least say a semblance of a normal name, but he is quiet, hands folded over his chest as his final answer, "Really? Hat guy?"

You throw your hands up, "I thought we were getting somewhere! Like I was trying to open up to you about the whole story thing!" Your hands lower in apocryphal delusion, "Hat guy... what type of parent names them hat guy?"

It's so ridiculous that you start laughing.

"Stop laughing! You're looking more like a baboon than before." A sharp comment breaks you out of breath as you hunch your sides.

You wipe a nonexistence tear from you tear ducts as you look at him. A faint mellow glow is left on his cheekbones- the only word you can use to describe the reaction is embarrassment.

Or anger. Probably anger.

The fleetingness of absurdity leaves you as the last hiccup escapes your lips, he looks like a cat that had water poured on him, "Sorry, sorry! I'll be serious now. Nice to meet you pft Hat Guy!" A guffaw escapes again and this time you have to stop because it looks like he's ready to punch your lights out.

You slip next to him, his face a contorting to annoyance. Pulling out a small journal, that has seen better days, kept in the back of your satchel you find a pen. Clicking the pen as you flip to an open page.

"So. Where do you want to start?"

"Wow (Y/N) you really..." Aether pauses finding the words, "stuck to the facts?" He finishes handing the rest of the paper to Paimon struggling to hold the rest of the pages in her tiny hands.

Paimon struggles to flip through the pages, squinting at the words on the page her eyes flicking to the violet haired boy in the back, "Yeah! Who knew that he was a prince of a continent who was known for dragon slaying? Then went on a thousand-year-old journey to find a piece of paper that hold the secret of a war from a long long LONG time ago...?" Even Paimon was awestruck by your story telling.

You puff up your chest in pride, "Well, the dragon slaying idea had come from you Aether. Gotta switch it around sometimes you know?" And you can see Aether facepalm his face mumbling something that's not worth the effort to narrate.

You turn toward Nahida and the boy of inspiration, "So! How do you like the first draft? I’m thinking of adding more details and vocabulary but all and all pretty good right!"

The girl, Nahida tilts her head in wonder, "I had no idea your story was so rich." She holds a secret behind her smile as she looks up towards the boy who hasn't said a word about the manuscript, "Truly, this has been an enlightening experience."

You nod rapidly, she always knew what to say to lift your spirits. You hop over to "hat guy" as he is staring blankly at your hard work. You give a small poke, and he jerks violet eyes catching yours.

"How is it?" You tilt your head to fit underneath his hat as you point towards a paragraph that has to do with the boy falling out of his kingdom in the first act, "Pretty accurate right? I tried combining multiple classic fantasy stories to create this, like you said."

He doesn't push you away, nor does he voice any acrimony. He does look at you like an adult would look at a child who made a mess of their kitchen before presenting equally a mess of a cake that people have to coo at because- it's a child's cake. Inedible, sloppy cute and the worst part- burnt on one side and raw on the other, but nonetheless a product of hard work made by a child.

Though this could be your imagination but notice him open his mouth after deliberating his thoughts. He decisively says in full confidence:

"I see why you haven't graduated."

[alexthefly]

Spilling Tea

This was supposed to be an entry for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial, but life got in the way and I went really over time (😅), so it's just a silly little something now, bringing a well-loved TOS character to the TAG universe. Enjoy!

Fandom: Thunderbirds/Thunderbirds are Go

Content: mention of Pen & Ink (canon events only)

Spoiler warning for TAG episode 1:10, Tunnels of Time

Or read it on AO3

**********

Lillian and her trusty scouring pad had just reached a particularly stubborn bit of baked-on sauce at the back of the oven when she heard the kitchen door go, followed by a great clattering of boot and chair.

“Cor Lil, do us a cuppa would ya? H’I’m gasping, I am!”

Of course, she thought. There's only one person in the world who could make that much noise just entering a room. 

Master thief my backside…

“You’ve got legs, haven’t ya? Get it yourself,” she called, not looking up. “Can't you see I’m busy?”

“Aww, but I’ve ‘ad an ‘ard day. H’I’m dead on my feet!”

“You’ll be dead under my feet if you keep carrying on,” she grumbled. “Though on second thought,” - she extricated her head from the oven and took off her marigolds - “I'd better do it for you. Who knows what you might set fire to if I left you to it.”

She clambered slowly to her half-asleep feet and finally looked over to see Nosy Parker seated at the kitchen table, covered in dust, trying and failing to stifle a chuckle.

“Looks to me like you’ve been burning a few things yourself, girl. Get a look at your face!”

Eh?

She limped over to the hob and checked her reflection in the shining silver kettle there, only to see a grime-smeared ragamuffin staring back at her.

“You could be an extra in H'Oliver!” Parker chortled, clearly delighted with his joke.

She just barely resisted the urge to fling the kettle at him - she had only just polished it, after all - and instead wiped her face with a nearby tea towel before flinging that at him instead. He spluttered some sort of outrage at the assault, but she noted that he never actually stopped smirking at her.

“Whatcha so ‘appy about anyway?” she asked, filling the kettle and setting the hob on. “I thought you was bone-tired.”

Parker yawned and stretched, kicking his boots off under the table, which earned him a royal scowl.

“I am. Been traipsing round a bleedin’ temple all day, ‘aven’t I? I’ve been shut in, shot at, gassed, nearly buried h’alive…”

“Well that's bad luck. Still, perhaps they’ll get you next time.”

He glowered at her, but carried on.

“Frankly I’m just glad we made it out in one piece. No thanks to Gordon Tracy of course - ‘e was no ‘elp at all. All that equipment ‘e brought, and what good did it do us? ‘Er Ladyship said the same thing. Well, not in so many words…”

“Is she alright?” Lillian asked, leaning casually on the countertop. Her Ladyship was a tough lady indeed, but for all his catastrophising it sounded like they'd had quite a time of it.

“Oh yes, right as rain,” replied Parker. “Save perhaps for a smooshed nose, courtesy of that great fishy lummox.’

“Gordon did that?”

Lillian quickly scrolled through her various kitchen utensils in her head, considering how they might best be inflicted on a young Tracy’s sensitive bits. A jaded old bird she may be, but she didn't mess about when it came to Lady Penelope’s wellbeing.

That was one thing she and Parker had in common.

Perhaps sensing impending bloodshed, Parker held up his hands in an attempt to placate his companion.

“He never meant any ‘arm, Lil. It was my fault really, setting off that booby trap like that - he was jus’ trying to save ‘er from a fatal stabbin’. And ‘Er Ladyship gave ‘im a right ol’ earful over it, so I reckon the poor lad’s suffered enough.”

The kettle whistle blew and Lillian straightened to go and make the tea, still quietly plotting.

“The truth is,” he continued, “I think ‘e might be a bit sweet on her."

She was so surprised she almost dropped the kettle on her foot.

"Really? Gordon?"

He nodded. "Like a puppy, ‘e is, following ‘er around, trying to h’impress ‘er, like; he’s like a little blond labrador.”

“A dogfish,” she suggested, grabbing a packet of biscuits from the overhead cupboard.

“Ha! H’exactly!” he chuckled. “Wet nose and wet behind the ears, that one!”

Carefully, she balanced the full cups on a tray and took it over to the table.

“But ‘e’s not that young though, is he? Twenty-four?”

“About that,” replied Parker, shovelling a hobnob in his mouth. “Seems younger though, somehow. Too young for ‘er, anyway.”

“You would say that though, wouldn’t ya? Nobody's ever gonna be good enough for her s’far as you’re concerned.”

He grinned sheepishly and reached for another biscuit.

Lillian stared into her teacup, thinking.

“You don’t think she might like ‘im too, then?”

Parker’s biscuit fell in his cup.

“You wot?”

“Well I was just thinkin’,” she said, handing him a teaspoon to fish his biscuit out, “all this talk about how annoying he is and ‘ow he’s always getting into scrapes ‘n’ all that…” She took a sip. “It just seems that if she didn't like ‘im, she might not care quite so much what ‘e does.”

“Don't talk soft, woman!” exclaimed Parker, forgetting all about his slowly-disintegrating hobnob. “She’s fond of all those Tracy boys, Gordon included. It's part of her nature to worry after ‘em. Nothing more than that, I'm sure.”

“Hmmm. If you say so…”

They sat in silence for a minute, pondering.

“Though…” Parker started. “...Nah.”

“What?”

“S’nothing.”

She picked up another teaspoon. “I’m going to stick this somewhere painful if you don't come out with it.”

"You wouldn't dare," he scoffed.

"...Sideways."

A gulp.

“A moment?” She leaned forwards.

“Alright, alright, keep your ‘air on! It's only that I was just thinkin’, back there, there was a… a moment.”

“Between the two of ‘em, when we were up on that stairway, starin’ death in the face…”

He paused, waiting for sympathy.

She brandished her spoon at him. “And?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Well, we all thought that might be it - ‘The H’End’, as it were…”

“Uh-huh?”

“An’ he was saying something about us not having much time, and it being now or never…”

“Yes?”

“And the way they was looking at each other, it was like…”

“Yes?!”

She was right on the edge of her seat, tea and spoon both entirely forgotten.

He shrugged. “Well anyway, then next thing I knew, we was grappling into the air and out the roof to safety.”

She blinked.

“...What? That's it?!”

She picked up the tea towel off the table and threw it at him again.

“You almost ‘ad me then, you bleedin’ tease! Gettin’ me all invested like that…”

“What? That's what ‘appened!”

She was fuming. “I thought you’d at least say he kissed her hand or something. ‘A look’, he says!”

He flushed. “It was more than that-”

“Load of nonsense. You’ve been watching too many of those serials on telly!”

She got to her feet and stormed over to the oven.

“I can't be sittin’ here listenin’ to this rubbish all day. Got things to do,” she grumbled, pulling her rubber gloves back on.

He folded his arms, glowering. “Well that's just fine then! Last time I tell you anything.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

And so they retreated to their respective corners to sulk; her scrubbing the oven, him harrumphing in his chair, stormclouds hovering between.

A minute passed. Then two.

“...You can finish up your tea before ‘elping me with the dinner, if you like?”

“...Yeah, alright then.”

[reztoru]

    ───── Music of the Forest

彡 Satoru is on a journey of coming to terms with his feelings for you, and he's come to find that the music his soul yearns for dwells within you, wherever you may be. 

tw / cw : fluff and a tiny bit of angst? there's a happy ending ,, tobacco is briefly mentioned but not used for smoking lol, slight jjk 0 spoilers ,, i think that's all but lmk if i missed anything

pairing : gojo x reader 

gender neutral, no physical descriptions of reader

a/n : born out of my love of the forests and inspired by a stsg painting I did. im so happy with how this turned out.

kinda me coded with a tiny tiny sprinkle of my own culture, but I think I kept it vague enough for everyone to enjoy.🫶🏾

w/c : 3.1k

Satoru has a knack for being a pest, at the best and worst of times. He needs to nourish his brain with information, desperate to know what causes people to tick. And as he’s grown older, he’s found himself observing the crowds around him a lot more.

He takes note of the way their energy engulfs them with the different emotions they endure. He sees how their anger is jagged and rude, or how their happiness appears in serene waves. Annoyance comes in spikes and sadness drizzles down.

And today is just another day for Satoru. Sat in his office, playing with a pen, avoiding work. Choosing to observe silently at the surrounding people. Seeing as they moved room to room, it was rather dull.

He became intrigued when he saw you wandering into the spooky forests. Mostly because you're someone he’s never gotten the opportunity to know. Thus, he couldn’t help but follow along — anything to get out of this boring paperwork.

He makes the hasty decision to teleport himself right next to you. Which caused him to startle you, popping up out of thin air like the menace he is. You tried giving him a smack, but his infinity stopped you, foiling your plan. Instead, you opted for scolding him. Warning him that if he was going to come with you, he best keep his mouth shut.

It was hard for him to abide by the single rule. Satoru being the never quiet man, always with something to say, and now with so many questions swirling within him.

“So, you wanna tell me why we’re sitting in the middle of the forest?” He said.

You shot him a look and shook your head, “I come here to heal, to think, whatever I need.”

He nodded slowly, pondering on your words, “and the forest helps to do that how? You eat berries and feel better?”

Rolling your eyes, you pat the spot beside you, telling him to listen. And he did, though he hadn’t really understood at first. He’ll admit the wind was gentle, it was calm. You could hear the leaves moving and the wildlife scurrying about, but nothing felt healing about it — well, he certainly didn’t feel healed.

However before he could prod at you further, you reached over to pull something out of your bag. It was a small sack of brown flakes — tobacco, loosely wrapped in a red cloth, with little beads tucked into a design on the chunk of it. And he was left feeling even more confused, especially after you stood up to scatter some about.

“It’s an offering. I’m giving back what I’ve taken.” You said as you turned to face him. Almost as if you could read his mind.

Yes, you were a mysterious person to Satoru. Sitting in the middle of nowhere to heal your soul. Sprinkling brown flakes on the ground like you were seasoning the earth. It just made no sense to him, but you did seem content every time you emerged from the trees; looking more at ease.

And he couldn’t help but tag along with you whenever he could. Wanting to know what this was all about, what you were all about. He’d poke at you, bombarding you with questions on the occasions that you’d begrudgingly allow him to.

Slowly, you became a part of his routine, ingraining yourself in his already busy schedule. And these trips into the forest turned into getting lunch rather late in the day, or coffee a little too late at night. And your woodlands started to become too familiar to him.

It began with you asking him to come along and get a drink and then it was a picnic. After a while, these things were almost routine and if he wasn’t able to stay and chat; he made it a point to at least stand in line with you before he had to go.

During that time, he began to know you on a more human level, getting to understand how your gears turned. And during these fleeting moments he learned how you like your coffee, your favourite food and color. He also learned of the way you heal; the way you replenish your mind. It’s so vastly different from the way he literally refreshes his brain — it’s so mundane in comparison.

“I just don’t get it.” Satoru said, sipping his overly sweet drink.

You sat across from him, swirling your own beverage with a straw. Your leg bounced as your eyes met your own in the reflection of his imposter sunglasses.

“Well, maybe you haven’t found your music yet.”

“I have music,” he gasped, “like that one song by Avicii- “

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Your theme song,” you snickered, “this music is different, though. It heals your soul.”

You’d always tell him that his sound will find him, as it does with everyone. When the time is right, you’d say. He wasn’t able to wrap his head around your words, and he’d preach to you time and time again about how he didn’t get it. But you’d only ever roll your eyes and shake your head at him, “be patient.”

This was something that his eyes couldn’t give him answers to. Because even someone as godly as him was unable to fully comprehend it through sight alone. It wasn’t cursed energy, or some grand battle tactic. This was a reminder to him that there are boundaries and limits to what even the most powerful beings can understand. And this is something he had to experience on a deeper level, beyond the realm of vision.

When time rolls on, he starts to hear it. The sound of a distant melody. It was the brassy thrum of his heart when you’re near and the dewy pitch of your voice. And your rippling cackles that crashed through him. Though, it’s a little scary at first, this feeling isn’t new — and it’s certainly one he wasn’t hoping for a sequel of.

Because when Satoru falls, he falls hard. And it’s not a soft pillowy fall by any means. It’s in a way where he crashes and burns. His love scorches him and claws at his heart. Taunting him with what’s barely in his grasp — and that of which has long since left.

His feelings linger in his brain and dance deep within his core. They seem to flow through him in a more complex way, taking twists and turns that are difficult to predict. It’s all a little unnerving to him — you’re a little unnerving to him.

As he drifts away into his thoughts, he thinks to himself how you bring nothing but uncertainty. You’re a storm rippling its way through his steady breeze, bringing chaos in your pursuit. Though he supposes your rain is a kind of refreshing that his abilities can’t provide. And you leave behind a beautiful burst of colours when you go.

“You okay? You look kinda stupid with that lost look on your face.” You asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m a little busy right now.”

You give him a look, one that makes him feel a little too small. It feels a little too personal, and it’s a bit too knowing, as if you were the one who wielded the six eyes.

“Mhm right. When you’re done sulking, there’s this new bakery that I wanna check out.”

Admittedly, he feels a little giddy with the knowledge of you wanting to go out with him. Maybe his heart skips a beat right after the words leave your mouth, but he tries his hardest to brush it off and ignore it because this feeling doesn’t have a home in this wretched place of his.

It’s because he knows love is truly the most twisted curse of them all. It’s a swirl of every emotion under the sun and it can swallow you whole. One wrong move and everything could fall apart. There’s no manual for how to navigate through this sticky feeling, and there’s no right way to do it either. It’s as beautiful as it is cruel.

You add the fact that there’s a constant target on his back. People want him dead, curses do too. Logically, he knows that having you is selfish, it puts you at risk. Because allowing himself the pleasure of loving you is a losing game. And for that reason, he chose not to play; to be somebody who only watches as the show unfolds.

Thus, he tries to keep his distance, never letting his sickly emotions take the reins. But it seems the harder he tries to pull away, your soul holds him a little tighter; enticing him back in.

“Look, ‘toru!” You point to a group of funny looking mushrooms, with eyes shining so brightly they could put the sun to shame.

Your smile reaches out to grasp at his heart, holding it tightly, not wanting to let go. That’s when he swears the world stops; or something cheesy like that. The pieces of his heart crash around in his chest and he forgets how to breathe — how to move, how to function.

He sputters out, “Can we eat them?”

“Yes, or we could pick them and sell em for a fortune.” You let out a mischievous chuckle, “I’m only giving you a percent of the profits though, you already have too much money.”

He doesn’t know why he asks what kind of mushrooms they are, because he already knows. In fact, most of the things he listens to you ramble about he’s already quite knowledgeable on. But he gets to listen to your damn voice, and your attention isn’t on anybody but him as you explain these little interests of yours.

And he thrives in your rays of light. He almost seems to forget what emotion this is and what it entails. But maybe, he thinks, just for a moment, he can be Satoru, the annoying guy who gets under your skin, rather than Satoru Gojo, the strongest with the all-seeing eyes.

And it’s not until some faculty meeting that he realizes he’s down bad. Every time he tries to listen to what Yaga is saying, his orbs wander to you. He wonders if you’d want to get dessert later, or if you’ll invite him on a little picnic again.

It seems Satoru just gets lost in you. It’s become so blatantly obvious to everyone around him. Shoko nags at him and tells him to just go for it. Saying things like, “You’ll regret it more if you don’t.” And he hates that she’s probably right, he hates that he has these stupid feelings even more.

“You’re acting like an angsty teen.”

He huffs, crossing his arms, “am not. I just don’t have time for that relationship stuff.”

Shoko pauses what she's doing, placing a hand on the table in front of her as she turns to look at Satoru with a deadpan expression, “but you have time for dates.”

“They’re not dates.” He mumbles.

He wants to argue. He really does, but he knows he can’t. He especially knows because he’s stumbled down into Shoko’s grim abode more than enough times, asking her what the hell should I wear.

And maybe these feelings get a little too real when he finds himself focusing on you, when he should really be paying attention to his students. Observing in a daze as you walk across the field. Your arm shoots up to give him a wave, or maybe it was a wave to everyone, but he likes to think it was reserved for him.

Or maybe it’s when he’s making a cup of coffee, and you brush against him. And he just pauses what he’s doing because he finds you so captivating. He can’t help the way his hands yearn to trace every curve. To sculpt you into the space of his mind, and create a masterpiece that is you.

But whenever you’re near, his body is always left feeling a little confused as this calm and unease both settle as lovers within him. The unrest that stems from the lack of control, that unpredictability leaves him nervous. And he knows vulnerability comes with weakness, and to be weak is to be slashed down.

When he stumbles back into his office, he realizes he forgot cream and sugar. And it’s the little things like this that make his thoughts race. His brain wants him to run far away from you. It’s telling him to leave you behind before this can go any further. He tugs at his hair, clawing at his scalp. His eyes scan for something they can’t see. He desperately scours his mind to figure out what to do.

Knock knock

And his head shoots up. He feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. That is, until he realizes it’s you, and then things feel a little okay. Almost as if you bring along the unspoken words he’s searching for. You don’t pry, and you don’t ask questions he doesn’t wanna answer.

Maybe that’s why he’s grown to feel this way for you. You don’t push too hard, and when you do, it’s always at the right times. Oh, and you’re always sure to bring him some proper food when you pop in to say hi. You do all these things and expect nothing in return.

You dig deeper than the flimsy mask he wears and you’re patient with these circles he finds himself running in. You don’t chase him, instead you stroll behind, cherishing the journey that you’ve found yourself on. In the end, he feels human with you.

“Did you eat something today? You look ghostly.” You giggle, holding up a bag, “I brought lunch, let’s eat.”

And it’s now, he thinks, it starts to fall into place, when he feels it the most. It’s almost as if when you’re around, a sense of peace washes over him, a feeling of calm that he can’t find anywhere else. It gives his soul a phantom sensation of being so tenderly held; of loving arms around him. It’s not just a physical sensation, but something deeper, something that touches his core.

It’s like he can feel his essence expanding, reaching out towards something unknown, as if they were two halves of the same whole. It’s a feeling of completeness, of being exactly where he’s meant to be. And when he breathes, it’s as if he’s inhaling remnants of himself; or rather, somebody foreign, yet so very familiar to him. 

And it’s days like today where he craves this sound the most. Days where the world feels a little empty and dull. No amount of reverse techniques can mend the passing of a friend you once cherished so much. He doesn’t wanna listen to the talk of the surrounding people. He doesn’t want to boil in anger and sadness. And he especially doesn’t want to be left alone thinking about all the what ifs.

Like clockwork, you poke your head into this wintery office of his. You take a seat and push a bottle of water towards him, followed by a little sandwich that you probably made at home. You don’t say anything, allowing him to wither in the noise you bring. And little by little he nibbles quietly on the food you offer, sipping the water as he goes.

Your eyes find his when you break the silence, “Seriously, Satoru, are you okay?”

“Always.” He gave you a toothy grin, but his facade has grown to become useless against you.

In return, you give him a soft smile; a knowing one, “Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me.”

Off you go again, into those trees to listen for something he can’t seem to find. His heart yearns for this sound that you speak of. It’s dire for him to know. He craves the calm you have and the peace you carry. And he wonders if you’ll ever give him a taste of it.

He lets himself linger in the essence you’ve left behind. Pondering on the events that have taken place over the months. You’ve so diligently taken care of everyone affected by the tragedy, and yet you still find the time to come to him and comfort him in a way he doesn’t know he needs.

Satoru sighs loudly, running a hand through his snowy hair. He asks himself if he could handle your death, if he could let you go. He also wonders if he’s looking too deep into this.

His heart reaches out to find your remnants, begging for your peace. It pleads for your calm and yearns for your ease. And this is when he almost subconsciously gets up to follow you along into your pillowy green song. His legs started to move before his mind could protest. It feels natural; it feels normal. Your vibrations linger on the path he follows and his roots guide him to his haven.

It’s in these woods Satoru has found his heart lies with you. It dances with you as you pull him in to move along to the sounds of your music. His heart sings a little out of tune with you in the mornings and it sways along to your memory. And as he delves deeper into these trees, the sound is clear to him more than ever.

He can hear the echoing hums that follow the wind, guiding it into the ears that are willing to listen. The leaves that dance and sing, and the life within them that stomps their feet. The wild flowers that do their best to keep up, giving to the little bees that decide to follow. And he sees how the sun shines brightly down on the whispers of the world, carrying its warmth to those who may need it.

This is where peace is found. And this is where the heart goes to heal, taking the sacred medicine and using it to prepare the soul for its next battle — whatever it may be. And this is exactly what Satoru needs; a cleanse of his broken heart. Far away from the bustling city life. It’s a place where time stands still and chooses to tenderly embrace the wandering spirits that pay it a visit.

Deep within is where he finds you, basking quietly in the light rays. Allowing your body to nourish itself with what’s offered to you. And during these scarce moments, Satoru has come to find that the music of the forest dwells within you, wherever you may be.

[purplequay]

" there is beauty and power in becoming both the sculptor and the marble, as you work toward creating a more realized sense of self " (x)

im not sure what to particularly tag this as (suggestions welcome) but i was watching the video essay linked above and in the middle of it i suddenly stopped because the mention of the manga “welcome back alice” (okaeri alice) caught my attention. while the other one mentioned previously (inside mari) sounds really interesting as well (and i will be reading it too) my brain decided that i need to read okaeri alice first

and so i did

and something about it is so.. deeply personal, but not in the sense that it is personal to me but, in general, the piece is just so personal. i think its because of the the author’s notes - about how this is based on his feelings about his own gender and sexuality (but not just saying it, showing it, explaining it). without them i feel like the read would be completely different

im looking forward to when the next issue will release. considering what the current last chapter is, i hope for it to be a happy ending

i have a lot of thoughts, like how yo is clearly a self insert but so is kei in many ways, but i will not be spoilering too much. maybe i will talk about it in a separate post, about how i interpreted the piece from my perspective of an 'autistic trans person.' but thats for a later time

speaking of, not sure if i want to give too much commentary about the pieces i did inspired from both the manga and the video essay but i will say that on the second one, the two figures on the left and right are supposed to represent my femininity and masculinity

[devondespresso]

OK I NEED TO SHARE THIS FIC RIGHT NOW OR I WILL DIE

THIS. FIC. IS. FUCKING. EXCEPTIONAL.

it was a one-chapter idea that had so much good going for it that the author is expanding it into a full fic and series. it has 12 chapters out right now (total undetermined but they seem to have a lot planned) and every single one is absolute art. its also at a pretty good place right now so stopping at chapter 12 isn't cliffhanger torture or anything, it has questions unresolved and whatnot but im not falling apart at the seams from not knowing what happens next.

no im falling apart at the seams from everything thats already happened.

(this is your vague spoiler warning. im mostly warning/disclaiming shit and roleplaying a car salesman as i try to get you to give this fic a shot)

fair warning this fic is heavy. it deals with the upside down trauma and the canon-divergent trauma the author introduced so incredibly realistically that it kinda makes you realize how desensitized we are to steve getting hurt. its amazing.

also feel the need to tell you its not the type of realistic that leaves you depressed after reading thank god. its real and heavy but not demoralizing. characters cry and grieve and scream but characters also hug and comfort each other and make little jokes to lighten the mood. there are worst case scenarios and best case scenarios and you get to be with the characters in the aftermath and their healing.

the structure and pacing is really good. it centers around steve but it alternates povs to most of the other characters and gets their perspective and struggles (has switched between steve, eddie, hopper, max, lucas, dustin, nancy, wayne, b*lly, and steves mom) and that makes almost every character feel like they're a main character or at the very least really well developed.

also this is your anti-b*lly h*rgrove warning. hes 100% an irredeemable monster here so if that bothers you definitely skip this because his impact is felt every chapter. all the other characters are flawed but understandable and definitely not malicious.

and ofc read the tags and chapter notes for content warnings and such. the author tells you what areas to skip over if certain subjects bother you but some aspects (like what happened to steve and max and eddie's childhood traumas) are too integral to the story and can't be glossed over without missing plot details.

if its at all interesting to you (and its safe for you to read) please just go check out the first chapter and you'll get it. its really good.

[barrenclan]

previous anon again: THANKSSS SM!!! and yah i know abt the link masterpost thing-- usually doesnt stop me from getting INITIALLY spoiled but its a really good system!! literally never had an easier time reading a webcomic on this dumb fuckin website, the format is so convenient and slick and i never have to click around too much to find what im looking for. its one of those Good Designs that are so seamless you barely notice it. i dont know if you took inspiration from another comic or came up with it yourself, but either way Kudos!! that was barely related to the spoilers thing, but i dont know if anyone has ever commented on your setup before so im doing it anyway!!

Thank you, that's kind of you to say! I only set it up recently, so it's alongside my other two systems of organizing the comic on Tumblr (the prev/next links and the #issue tag) which I think alltogether makes for the easiest possible reading experience.

Here's someone else's advice for you as well:

This is a nice suggestion but I don't like using coding things, it'll just be easier for me to manually remove tags.

[omamorens]

wip wednesday!

technically it is friday for me but ell @serenescribe tagged me in this the other day and honestly the next chapter is coming along nicely but i had to pause writing to finish my d20 zine submissions (surprise?! spoilers??? i cant wait to share my work!!). anyway, please enjoy this little snippet!!

Reaching the History section, she slowed her steps, appreciating the scent of unopened knowledge in the air, the effect of it calming to some degree, and she browsed the spines of the books before her leisurely, fully ignoring the dragonborn following after her.

Cultures of Spyre, Dunes of the Red Wastes, Solesian Society…

“I haven’t done anything wrong, Abernant.” Oisin’s tone was icy, cutting an impatient edge through her skimming.

Adaine stopped in front of a shelf, leveling him with a glare. “Nothing?”

Oisin was still, fins pulled back and tail stiff. “Not in the past week at least.”

“Wow.” Her tone was ironic to the word, still in disbelief over his gall. “You broke a personal record. Congratulations. Should we have Arthur Aguefort give you a medal for it?”

“No thanks.” He grins dangerously, all fangs and sharp teeth. “After being unfairly criticized, I might just break my week-long streak.”

There was a heat in his gaze, anger now radiating from him in waves of chilly energy. She could practically feel the electricity of his presence, and she realized that her chest felt too tight, a nervousness making a home down on her abdomen. Was it fear?

“So tell me, dear Oracle. Is there an issue here or are you just deflecting?” His eyes narrow, pupils turning to slits, scrutinizing her. No, she was not afraid of him, but the possibility of anything happening when they were at each other’s throat did send a shiver down her spine. “Maybe it’s time to admit to yourself what your real issue is.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Hakinvar.” Adaine forced the nonchalance in her voice, her other hand balling to a fist, nails pressing deep into her palm. She had no issues aside from the one he directly caused. “Though it is touching to see you worried about me.”

hostile and bickering inkblade is my lifeline and theres 10k+ words of them already doing just that. yes this me indulging and everyone is welcome to come along for the ride. but the end is near and im a bit melancholic about it…. sue me. tagging @recycledraccoon to do this too if u want… and really anyone who wants to do it, feel free to tag me in ur wips too!!! i love reading other works especially of my favorite blorbos!!

[queerspaceprince]

super long post

i saw the tv glow spoilers, me being depressing, tw's in tags

i went to see I Saw the TV Glow this afternoon. i got it. def cried a little (idk if hrt has stopped me from crying more bc i havent cried since i was in hs anyway) my sib got it, tho we havent talked ab it yet bc im still processing even now. my mom did not get any of it. at all. wasnt affected. thats fine, whatever.

and. jesus. i give the movie a 15/10, but it was. a whole lot. i have too many emotions.

Im def gonna mention a few spoilers so if you dont want to be spoiled, is your warning.

it made me feel too much. is the allegory really allegory if the hidden meaning is right at the surface?

when owen says that thing during their convo on the bleachers -i cant remember the exact words fuck- something about feeling hollow or missing something or whatever, how he thinks something is wrong with him and his parents do to-i feel that. so much. i felt it so much more before my egg cracked, but i still feel it in relation to my depression and anxiety. that hit me.

there was also that part about feeling like you're watching yourself from the outside, as if through a tv. oof.

then the whole thing maddie said about how time didnt feel right, how nothing changed when she left. i get it. I was 10 nd my parents got divorced, and suddenly im 11 and thinking i wanted to d1e for the first time, and then im 14 in a kind of manipulative relationship, with like 1 friend and super depressed, and then i was graduating and realizing im queer and exploring my gender and going through a breakup. then im 20, and getting my first job, and coming out to my family. and now im 26. and i still mostly feel the same way i always have. i have more good days, and im more confident now, but i still feel like im just going through the motions a lot of the time.

when did I stop being a kid? ive been an adult for 8 years and Im still only working part time (32 hrs), still living with my mother bc rent is $$$$, still barely functional enough that I havent cleaned my room since last year and ive only showered 3 times in the past week, and i have to force myself to go get coffee on my days off or else ill stay in bed all day. Im just stuck here. i shouldve taken driving lessons when I could. id be out. except i cant leave my sibling behind with my mother. shes not awful, but them being alone is an explosion waiting to happen. but they dont have a job and i doubt i could support both of us. and now i dont trust my eyes enough, like i read for 15 minutes and everything else goes blurry, like im seeing triple.

anyway. next is the scene in where she talks about k1lling herself to get back to the pink opaque world. I. have to admit i nearly threw up. the imagery, the way she spoke about it. she said she regretted it while she was stuck underground, then how she felt good about it, about getting out....ive been sitting in a low spot for a while, it was better while we were on our trip, but it just reverted when we came back. i keep thinking im going to relapse into sh again. i feel so close to the edge sometimes. and theres really no reason for it either. my life is fine. not great, not perfect. but adequate. anyway i had to close my eyes and take a minute after that.

i feel that even without wanting to go back to the other world, maddie was suicidal. she wouldve found some reasoning to k1ll herself. Now ive only ever been actively su1cidal once, when i was 15 -or 16- idk my teen years are all a blur of depression and anxiety. im good now. well. i say good. im more, self destructive then really wanting to d1e. just. i feel so bad on the inside for no reason, why can i have a reason to hurt on the outside?? anyway, im ok now, im 3.5 years clean, i dont want that to change. im working on my coping mechanisms.

there was another quote from that planetarium scene that i couldnt stop thinking about but has now vanished from my mind entirely. bc sometimes getting my thoughts in order is like. catching smoke.

anyway. then everything after that. him growing old. knowing something about him is different but not wanting to acknowledge it or it would drastically his life as he knows it. I understand that feeling. except for me, its not exactly acknowledgement of myself, its doing something about it. while I didnt exactly stay in the closet long, that feeling of not wanting anything to change is why the closet exists. i realized i was queer in 2014, trans 2015. came out as bi that summer, but i didnt come out as trans until 3 years later. when I had a job. access to money if i ended up getting kicked onto the street. i literally had a bag packed and ready to go. and yet. even when i did come out, i was too afraid to correct my family on my pronouns or name for another year. my sibling really helped with that. immediately used them. Tbh theyre my fave person and id do anything they asked.

the whole thing about there still being time.

i see a lot of tiktoks about this. people watning to do stuff now bc there is still time to change your life or whatever. im interpreting it differently.

there is time now, but your hourglass will run low eventually. live while you still can, while you can still do something about it. how that message showed up after maddie left- their time together had run out, but he might still be able to do something. make a change. idk. but owen was too scared to do anything.

im still scared to do anything.

i still dont correct people on my name or pronouns if they get them wrong. i still dont speak up if my family says anything not pc (they are learning tho). im too scared to talk about any big feeling i have bc ive always been brushed off in the past and i dont want to feel worse becasue of it.

i still havent done anything to get my name or gender marker changed bc im scared. idk why. ive been living as a man for 6 years, i got top surgery almost 3 years ago, and ive been on hrt for nearly 2.

it terrifies me for some reason. maybe ts the complexity of it. ive found 3 different versions of the paperwork, and nowhere does it tell me exactly how or who to submit it too. one of those said i could submit online but it had to be printed, notarized, and scaned back into the computer? none of the other versions said it had to be notarized???

and i have nobody who has any knowlege that could help. my aunt worked for a lawyer for years, and yet she just said all I have to do is go to the dmv. like babe. no. thats not how that works.

i think ill start on that again.

while i still have time.