#it simply cannot get any better than this

[floweycidal]

flowey thought you, of all people, would understand. that you, more than anyone, would get it. you’ve been down this road, stood in his place, stared into the same empty abyss, made all the bloody, damning choices. 

anyone who sees through the pretense of love and second chances ends up right where he is. that’s just how it works.

and you… you were meant to be the one who proved him right. you were supposed to be the validation he’s always needed, the evidence that this was all anyone could be once they saw the world for what it truly is, that there’s no other way.

that no one—no one—could come out the other side whole.

that his path, his descent, was inevitable. 

it needed to be. he’s poured every ounce of himself into this belief, convinced himself it’s the only thing that makes sense, the only thing keeping his identity together.

but then here you were… suddenly so pure, so full of light, hands clean of dust, wearing kindness like you'd never known anything else.

why?

the simple answer would be that you chose to be better. but for flowey, that explanation is poison.

he cannot, will not, accept that your transformation comes down to nothing more than a decision. that you looked at the same broken world he did and simply chose to rise above it. 

because if this is true… if your goodness is genuine, if your kindness isn’t just another weapon in his war…

what would that mean for him?

what would it say about every choice he's justified, about every path he’s sworn was the only option?

if this was all it takes—to choose to be better, to choose to not let the world break you—then...

NO! he needs it to be something else.

he scrambles. is it vengeance?

making him watch you earn the life he never thought he deserved after all he’s done while he…

the sentence dies there.

it doesn't need to go any further. we both know the rest.

while he stays this. while he rots here. while he watches you prove that everything he’s constructed around himself was just a choice.

he refuses to think about it.

his defenses snap into place. this has to be another game. a test. a performance meant to lull everyone into a false sense of security before you rip it all away.

he convinces himself that you’re just playing with him, that this light you carry is a facade, temporary and cruel. that in the end, you’ll take it all apart. tear it from him. from everyone. the way he would have. the way you would have.

if you’re still playing the part of the destroyer, still toying with the pieces before scattering them again, then he doesn’t have to confront the possibility that you’ve left him behind.

if it’s all just some heartless farce, then it’s something he knows. and what's known is safe.

it means you’re not done with him. you’re just playing a part. you get it. you’re still the one who understands. still the one who made the same choices, walked the same path.

his fall from grace wasn't a choice, but an inescapable conclusion. he wasn't alone in this. no way. you just wanted to see what it was all like.

genius, chara. real genius.

[hyperlexichypatia]

Follow up to this post where I was asked about the "Autism presents differently in girls" myth, which is one of my many berserk buttons.

Here is a non-exhaustive list of reasons this concept makes no sense and you should stop saying it:

A. Autistic people are more likely than non-autistic people to be trans, nonbinary, or otherwise gender-non-conforming, so any attempt to group autistic people by binary, birth-assigned gender is even less likely to be accurate than the gender binary already is in the general population.

2. There is absolutely no evidence supporting the "presents differently" theory that could not be better explained by clinician bias.

iii. The alleged "presentation differences" between autistic "girls" and "boys" are just bog-standard gender stereotypes with "autism" plugged in somewhere. "Boys are better at math and science and logic and not having feelings and their dominant emotion is Anger, but girls are better at socializing and caretaking and brushing hair and their dominant emotion is Approval-Seeking." "Huh, that sounds like reactionary sexist hogwash." "No, I mean, autistic boys are better at math and science and logic and not having feelings and their dominant emotion is Anger, but but autistic girls are better at socializing and caretaking and brushing hair and their dominant emotion is Approval-Seeking." "Oh, okay, now it's Objective Science."

four. Sexist bias, including among clinicians, tends to frame "male" neurodivergence as essentially cognitive and "female" neurodivergence as essentially emotional, because, as we all know, Men Think, Women Feel. Psychology is obsessed with the idea that "girls" are universally and inherently self-loathing and self-destructive -- anything a "girl" has trouble with cannot possible be a skill she hasn't learned or an ability she doesn't have, let alone merely a different way of being; she must simply be self-abnegatingly denying herself the thing she cannot do. So a "girl" with the same traits as an "autistic boy" will have those traits attributed to something emotional, like depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, or eating disorders. "Autistic girls" aren't being "missed" (read as neurotypical); they're having their exact same autistic traits as "autistic boys" being framed as mood disorders instead of neurodevelopmental disabilities.

cinco. Fundamentally, this premise gets completely backward what diagnosis means and why pathologization happens. People are pathologized and diagnosed, with any kind of disability, when they have traits that fall outside the range of traits considered "acceptable" for their position. "It's more acceptable for boys to have meltdowns, so autistic boys have more meltdowns than autistic girls, so the boys get diagnosed with autism" -- No, this doesn't make sense. That's not how diagnosis works. If it were more acceptable for boys to have meltdowns, then boys who have meltdowns would not be getting diagnosed with anything. Their behavior would not be seen as pathological. If "It's more acceptable for boys to have meltdowns" were to explain any kind of diagnosis differential, it would be "Therefore girls who have meltdowns are diagnosed, while boys who have meltdowns are just considered normal boys." And, to be clear, that kind of thing is absolutely a factor in gender differences in diagnosis, but in the opposite direction from how people mean it. Like, as a "girl," I wasn't really expected or pressured to be athletic, so my absolutely abysmal gross motor skills were just shrugged at and not seen as a sign of disability. Can't run or throw? Well, I was a girl, and a nerd to boot. What do you expect? A "boy" with my level of gross motor skills would draw a lot more Concern.

ζ. "Girls are pressured to mimic/mask more than boys are," even if true (debatable), elides over the fact that many autistic "girls" can't "mimic/mask," because they are disabled. They have a disability. Because some of the things their society expects them to be able to do are things that they cannot, in fact, do. "Girls don't have meltdowns because they're not allowed to. Girls don't forget to do essential tasks because they're not allowed to. Girls don't --" Okay but they do. Girls do in fact very much do those things. Because they are disabled. Because they have disabilities. Because there are things they are expected to be able to do, which they cannot, in fact, do. And it's weirdly disability-erasing (ableist) to claim that people simply develop the ability to do things they can't do just because they're expected to.

heptad. Circling back to point A., while I can't prove it, I really think a lot of this "gendered autism" stuff is a way to pathologize and also explain away queerness/transness/gender-non-conformity in diagnosed-autistic kids. "Oh, no, don't worry, the reason your son consistently Fails At Masculinity isn't because he's some kind of sissy; it's actually because he has this Masculine Male Boy Disorder where he just doesn't understand how boys are supposed to behave. Lots of boys have it. No, no, the reason your 12 year old son is kissing his male friend on the mouth isn't because he's gay; he just has a social skills disorder and doesn't know that boys don't kiss their platonic guy mate dude friends. It's a very masculine disability. Elon Musk has it." I know somebody who was told by an Autism Mom that all autistic people are bisexual because "They don't know the difference." Sure, keep telling yourself that.

8️⃣. In the past, when I was less Galaxy Brain Mad Radicalized, I conceptualized the phenomenon of "'Boys' are diagnosed with autism while 'girls' with the exact same traits are diagnosed with depression/anxiety/OCD/BPD/ED" as a phenomenon of "Autistic girls, who objectively are autistic, whose objectively, scientifically correct diagnosis is autism, are misdiagnosed with psych disorders instead." But what neither autistic nor Mad people really want to admit is that "autism" is as arbitrary a diagnostic category as any other. No two human brains are exactly alike. All systems of classification are made up. I happen to think that the proposed explanatory mechanism of "autism" (brain processes sensory input/information differently than average, results in wildly uneven skill development) is generally more accurate than the proposed explanatory mechanism of most psych diagnoses (people are weird somehow and that's bad somehow), but it's still fairly arbitrary. People with autism diagnoses get ABA and people with psych diagnoses get CBT/DBT, and you can argue about which is worse, but ultimately anything with a B in it is fundamentally abusive. Abolish psychiatry.

[pinnedmother]

How do you think Messmer deals with feeling jealous? Or when his partner is jealous?

Thanks for the request ♡ I did both.

Messmer's jealousy

He gets jealous extra easily, not even by anything to do with romance or flirting (he’d completely blow up then), but for your attention in general. He hates when you give more time to someone else when he’s right here; hates when you smile at them, when you laugh at their words, when you look them in the eye for too long.

Why, why, why every person in his life he loves more than the world itself always has to disperse their precious attention to other people? He feels empty, utterly abandoned and forgotten, even if you were lightheartedly conversing with someone for nothing more than a minute. It stings in his chest.

Despite being incredibly dramatic in his way of thinking, Messmer is still self aware enough to understand that he’s merely experiencing jealousy and that this emotion is dangerous if he would let it get the better of him. He tries to suppress it to the best of his ability as to not cause a scene. Still he’ll frown and stare daggers in you and the other person, hoping you’ll notice and mercifully absolve him of this sensation.

You’ll need to have empathy 60 the way he masterfully hides his feelings. He wants you to know, but also doesn’t. If his serpents in their attempts to help would try to get your attention themselves, he’d get silently mad at them and forcefully tug their slithering bodies away from you.

If you don’t notice him long enough, he’ll just leave as quietly as possible. Trying to be nonchalant about his departure as if he simply has other matters to attend. Internally, however, Messmer’s melting, and seething, and burning everything around him to a crisp.

Later he would seem colder than usual and more distant. Messmer craves your presence, but doesn’t want to seem desperate at the same time. He also needs you to show that you still care for him. It may be childish, but he truly does need this affirmation. He wants you to seek him out, ask what’s wrong, show him your warmth, and smile a more genuine smile than the one you showed to this other person. In exchange, he would redouble the affection you gave him.

However… If you were to commit such an unforgivable sin as to openly flirt or even romantically involve yourself with someone… Well, hopefully you didn’t forget that your lover is a genocidal war general, known for the purge brutal enough to be removed from history, because otherwise you’d be shocked and horrified to see your paramour burned and impaled on the highest spike there is. Messmer would do it; no remorse, no regrets, only cold rage. If both you and he even decide to continue after this mess, you’ll be the one to carry the blame in its entirety, he won’t hear any of it if you’d try to call upon his conscience. You’ll have to work exceptionally hard to gain Messmer’s trust once more, and no matter what you do it’ll never again be at its fullest. It was a scarring wound, one that cannot be forgotten nor forgiven.

Your jealousy

Messmer’s confused at first, not understanding a shift in your reactions and behavior. He would catch on at some point though, and will try to persuade you that there’s nothing to be jealous about: you are the only one he loves and he needs no other.

If it’s not enough, he would cater to your demands: sending people away, shortening the time of discussions, taking a more reserved and aloof demeanor or even holding your hand while addressing others. Whatever you’d want, really. He knows exactly how miserable it feels, so if he can ease it for you – he will.

Messmer secretly loves that you’re so possessive of him. He still wouldn’t make you jealous on purpose however, your comfort is far too important, but the feeling is pleasant.

[agirlandherquill]

the twenty-first day of writemas

day 21 already, my goodness, the days are flying by! it's getting ever closer to the big day now and I must say, i'm more inspired than ever, and i cannot wait to see what you all come up with!

the rules, for those of you that are new or simply need a refresher: choose a prompt from the list, write something and share your creation with the rest of writeblr, and share the game with others, because as we all know writing is a gift and it deserves to be shared! and of course, tag me in your responses because i cannot wait to see them!

p.s - the game is open to all, as discussed in the invitation post - which, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, is still being monitored for newcomers and late additions - all are welcome to the game!

now for the part you're all here to see - the prompts!

Prompt List:

Dialogue Prompts:

"Run from me if you dare."

"Many have tried to love me, do you think you have what it takes?"

"When will you finally understand?"

Setting Prompts:

A showdown

A concert

Ashes

Narration Prompts:

She watched the clouds swirl and dance high up in the sky, as free as the birds playing in their midst, as free as she would never be.

He swallowed silence until he was full, until his tongue was in knots no-one could undo.

Laughter churned the stomach and warmed the heart, it was better than any food or any concoction.

Feeling Prompts:

The hum of song

The heaviness of horror

The joy of a lifetime

(because i'm insanely overeager, this post like its predecessor will be going live at 00:01 UK Time, apologies to those of you that receive it early but hey, early presents are still pretty good presents :) )

eagerly awaiting your creations, and as always, happy holidays!

~ A Girl And Her Quill

the invitations have been received so here you all are, i bestow upon you the gift of writemas! p.s if you want to be added to the tag list, interact with this post <3

@365runesofthesystem @glasshouses-and-stones @tildeathiwillwrite @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings

@willtheweaver @theverumproject @phoenixradiant @thatuselesshuman @melpomenelamusa

@loverboyxbutch @i-hate-happy-endings @corinneglass @whatwewrotepodcast @aalinaaaaaa

@aseriesofsmallthings @kelseyjade @lauravanarendonkbaugh @i-do-anything-but-write @nuclearr-wessels

@95angeltears @sunflowerrosy @thebadphilosopher @ellowynthenotking @xarrixii

@the-ellia-west @myniceisniceblogbloglog @kitty-is-writing @girl-with-bones @crimsonlyinglilly

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@rhikasa @buffythevampirelover @moltenwrites @vesanal @foyle-writes-things

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@thebookishkiwi @that-expat-girl @lyssthewriter @elligatorrex @fablesandfragments

[fleurriee]

it’s been wayyyyyy too long im so sorry bestie 👀 but im finally here now to read the best series there ever lived!!! i also hope u don’t mind that my comments are quite long but i get so into reading these that i need u to know my every thought 😘

“What is it about?” Neteyam probed further.

You thought about it for a second. 

“It’s a story about two people who come from different worlds, and their journey of understanding each other and overcoming their feelings of, you guessed it, pride and prejudice towards one another and towards each other’s world.”  

CRYINGGG ANDRA i never thought how similar it is ughhhghghhh

Your words upset him, he realises in slight surprise. He looks at your figure sprawled over the bed looking up at the ceiling above you in contemplation and feels a pang of hurt as he considers the fact you didn’t think of him when reading a book so close to your heart.

he’s actually so bby wth. getting upset she didn’t think of him :((

He obliged and found another spot on the bed, which was now emanating the warmth of your body, and he slowly touched the blanket as if trying to commit the feeling to memory.

i saw that neteyam. i know exactly what that action means.... he’s in love 😩

“Ah, there is it.” You cleared your throat, then continued. “He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” 

ANDRA IVE ONLY JUST STARTED THIS CHAPTER WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS??? they’re everything istg. they need to just get together, or least be besties again 🤧

“Your mum gave me this, a couple of weeks before she passed. She asked me to hold on to it and give it to your on your 18th birthday.”

“I hope whatever’s on there will give you some peace of mind, kid. I know life’s not been kind to you, but it’s time… time to move on, you know?” 

ffs andra i don’t wanna cry. it’s 9 in the morning on a fucking tuesday.

...sitting in Max’s lap and watching the brain activity, bombarding him with questions with answers you couldn’t’ possibly comprehend yet.

the relationship she has with both norm & max is so beautiful. like i love all their dynamics together & the fact they’re both practically her dads??? i love to see it.

“...Please don’t do a Jake.” 

LMAO jake really was the main character 🤪 he just wanted to run around & be goofy.

Neteyam’s words suddenly broke through.  “You’re not going to make it.” 

Adrenaline turned into rage and you hated it, hated the boy in that moment. Hated the effect his words had on you, even after so much time.

“You know nothing about the real world.” 

ughhh i love neteyam but hate him rn cause this is supposed to be her moment & she’s putting herself down bc of something he said 😭 istg if that boy doesn’t step up soon

“Angel, you there?” 

“Give her a second, Lo’ak. This is bound to overwhelm her and you yelling at her isn’t going to speed up the process.”

“I can’t believe she just hissed at me.” 

oh i absolutely love they came to see her 🤧🤧🤧🤧 also lo’ak’s so funny & dramatic, what did he expect lmao??

“Damn, you’re hot this way, too. This is unfair, you know? But also somehow makes me feel better that it turns out I’m not into a different species altogether, just one girl.” 

this a neteyam fic this a neteyam fic this a neteyam fic this a neteyam fic!!!! i swear im a neteyam girl but sometimes... 👀

“We have to get going, you’re going to start your training today, and your new boss is not going to be happy if you’re late.”

“Yep. Neteyam has been given the tough job of taking your lab ass and turning it into a Na’vi warrior. I have to say, I don’t envy him,  and I definitely don’t envy you.” 

OH LETS GO I FUCKING LOVE THIS TYPE OF TROPE!! gimme all the forced proximity plsss let there be tension!!!! 🥵

...for better or for worse, at least he had parents to rely on him. The thought made him sad, and he felt guilt at the words he spat at you yesterday. He knew they were for the greater good, but he also knew they crossed a line, a line that he might not be able to cross back from. 

keep that self reflection coming neteyam cause u got a LONG ride to redemption lmao.

Next to Lo’ak was a girl. The most beautiful girl he has ever laid his eyes on. Her stripes were somehow more accentuated than normal, and they reminded him of his own. It was something he was insecure about growing up, the deep contrast something his friends and even family teased him about relentlessly, but now, looking at it on her, he realised they were blind - he was blind - to have ever hated them. Her eyes were now yellow, a big departure from her human eyes, and although it was strange, just like the rest of her, they still felt familiar to him. Like no matter what body she inhabited, her soul would always shine through, always calling out to him like a moth to a flame. He knew then he’d always feel like this about her, for the rest of his life, no matter what she looked like. Fuck.

im sorry i had to include the whole thing bc THIS ENTIRE PARAGRAPH?? like neteyam pls it’s so obvious that you love her!!! the way he looked at her and just thought yep, that’s her. she’s the one in any form. if someone doesn’t smack him to get his head straight again i’ll do it myself. im so desperate to find out what’s keeping them apart just so they can reconcile again 🥲

His shoulders were broader and his arms were bigger, leading to a more accentuated contrast between them and his waist, and you hated yourself for how it made you feel, how your mouth filled with saliva you had to force yourself to swallow and how your pulse increased so rapidly it almost made you dizzy.

ahaa even she knows 🥵🥵 hottest man alive on any planet istg

“... Pretend you don’t know me, pretend we’re not you and me.” 

“I don’t know you, Neteyam.”

oh wow that one hurt.. like that one stung. why are they like this, why can’t they just love each other like they want to 😭😭

...and vowed to yourself that you would take care of this bow with your life, if not for anything else, for the still untarnished memory of that little boy you once loved so much.

andra... this isn’t funny anymore. im in pain.

“Kurkung (asshole).” Neteyam shoots you a dirty look and you can’t help but smirk. “What? That’s Na’vi. Perfect pronunciation, by the way.” 

i fucking love her. like how can you make me go from wanting to cry to cheering her on for riling up neteyam just to spite him??? talent.

You felt your anger pick up and the Pa’li let out a scream and rose on its hind legs, throwing you straight in the dirt. Neteyam laughed, but came to help you get up.

this is jake & neytiri 😭 ooooo h h h h h h i love everything about this andra.

“You know I’d never leave you alone.”

He picked you up and placed you on his back. “After 16 years, have I ever left you alone?” 

“...Well, I want to be strong and capable so I can always protect you...”

AHHHHHHH WHAT IS THIS??? NETEYAM YOU’RE GIVING ME WHIPLASH ISTG I FUCKING LOVE U & HATE U AT THE SAME TIME

A human skull you just stepped on... You lifted it to your eye line and heard yourself scream, wail louder than you ever had before... In a blind rage, you were clawing at your feet, trying to remove the dirt, remove the skin that stepped on your dad’s dead body...

oh god 😭 girlie has been through too much, she can’t catch a break. i mean i get that her dead was probably a dickhead with quaritch or something (at least, that’s my theory atm), he’s still her dad u know?? is she ever gonna be happy andra????

shock horror, this was absolutely amazing yet again. i love ur writing so much bc that simply did not feel like over 6k words. i was having too good of a time, clearly.

im so excited that she has her avatar body now!!! and we’re being forced to be with neteyam!!!! i can smell the tension from here. so ready for the next one 🤍🤍

Illicit Affairs | Chapter IV: Evermore

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: You and Neteyam both have to navigate a lot of painful memories on your first day in a new body

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, cursing

Word Count: 6,2k words

A/N: Chapter 4 is the longest chapter I have written so far. There's definitely some fluff in there and some light hearted, beautiful moments, but it's also the darkest chapter I have written so far. There's some heavy stuff in there, so please read with caution! I wanted my characters to be well rounded and for there to be a good reason for every action they take; why the reader is a recluse, why Neteyam behaves the way he does, and why he left. There's layers to their story that will be unveiled through memories from both the main characters, so I hope you stick around to see where I plan to take this story <3 I never expected people to like it so much, and I hope you guys like what I have planned!

"I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone

Trying to find the one where I went wrong

And I couldn't be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for Evermore"

“Am I allowed to be here?” Neteyam says, carefully taking in the new environment that he’s never wondered through before. It was small and dark, his eyes needing a second to adjust to the contrast from the bright neon orbs that illuminated the hallways. His nose scrunched up, trying to assimilate the smell, and realised it just smells like you. 

“Who is going to stop you?” you laugh, and the sounds reverberates through his body and settles deep in his soul. He’s heard this sounds countless times in the 14 years he’s known you. It never ceased to amaze him. 

You take off your Converse shoes and throw them carelessly to the side, jump on the bed and reach for the light on the other side of it, sitting on the bedside table. The lamp turns on and Neteyam finds himself having to adjust to the brightness once more. He settles on the chair that was accompanying a small messy desk, filled with papers, books and electronic tablets that had something you called a graph on it. The words “cell viability” were written on top of it, but Neteyam didn’t know what that meant, so he turned his attention to the many, many books that were displayed on the shelves above the desk. 

He’s seen some of them before, some of them multiple times, as you did seem to have your favourites. He picked one up he recognised. It was called Pride and Prejudice and Neteyam assumed it was written by a person named Jane Austen. He knew you loved this book, but he’s never asked why.

“I love that one…” you started.

“I know” he says in Na’vi. “I just don’t know why.”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. My mum read me paragraphs from it growing up, and it’s just a book that brings me comfort. I’ve read it so many times, I’ve memorised it, so it’s like a blanket. It makes me feel safe.”

“What is it about?” Neteyam probed further.

You thought about it for a second. 

“It’s a story about two people who come from different worlds, and their journey of understanding each other and overcoming their feelings of, you guessed it, pride and prejudice towards one another and towards each other’s world.”  

He sat with this new information for a while. “So like us?” 

“Mmm, I don’t think it’s like us at all. I think it’s more about my mum and dad, or at least I think my mum thought of her and dad when reading it.”

Your words upset him, he realises in slight surprise. He looks at your figure sprawled over the bed looking up at the ceiling above you in contemplation and feels a pang of hurt as he considers the fact you didn’t think of him when reading a book so close to your heart.

“I have a quote from another book that reminds me of you, though.” Almost as if you read his mind, you turned your head towards him with a smirk and raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t look at you, a small pout erupting from his lips without meaning to. You laugh at him and smile endearingly, softly shaking your head. 

You jump from the bed, slightly wincing when your left leg registers the action, and click your tongue at him so he can move from where he was sat. He obliged and found another spot on the bed, which was now emanating the warmth of your body, and he slowly touched the blanket as if trying to commit the feeling to memory. You climbed on the chair with another small wince and found a book on the uppermost shelf. You jumped from the chair straight on to the bed and fell next to him. 

Patting the spot next to you, you signalled for him to lie down. He did, although his legs were completely off the bed, the tiny contraption barely able to accommodate his torso. You let out a small laugh, but seemed happy to have him so close. 

You placed your head on his chest, and he prayed you couldn’t hear the way his heart felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage at your proximity and warmth. You opened the book and looked for the quote. 

“Ah, there is it.” You cleared your throat, then continued. “He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” 

“Get the fuck out of my room, Neteyam.”

You had just finished washing the day off when you heard a small knock on the door. Still reeling from the fight, it was taking everything out of you to muster up the strength to open that door and deal with whatever was waiting on the other side. With a deep sigh, you did so anyway. It was surprising for you to find Jake peering at you from the other side of the open door, a curious look on his handsome face. 

“Hey kid. We’re going to get going now. I just wanted to talk to you for a second before hand. Can I come in?” 

You hesitated for a second, then moved so he could enter. 

“So..” He started awkwardly. “I don’t really know how to do this.” You saw his left hand reaching behind his head and scratching his scalp with a small laugh. 

His eyes drop to a little package he was holding, wrapped in the same sort of cloth as the other gifts had been. He didn’t look at you as he spoke.

“Your mum gave me this, a couple of weeks before she passed. She asked me to hold on to it and give it to your on your 18th birthday.”

Your breath stopped in your lungs. He peered at you with a sad look and handed you the little box. A small video camera, like the ones used to record the Avatar program video logs was now resting peacefully in between your hands. 

“I hope whatever’s on there will give you some peace of mind, kid. I know life’s not been kind to you, but it’s time… time to move on, you know?” 

He got up from his spot on the bed and silently made his way out of the room. “See you tomorrow?” 

With your back to him, you gave him a nod, and with that, he was gone, closing the door behind him.

You stood like that, in the same position, with the camera in your hand for a long enough time that your left leg was starting to ache, an ache that eventually overtook the one in your soul and with that, you took the camera and the bracelet you removed from Neteyam’s hands and shoved them both in the bottom drawer of your desk. “Pandora’s box.”, you thought to yourself, with a bitter chuckle. 

You woke up with a groan, and the meanest headache known to man. Yesterday felt like you did in fact have the biggest party this world has ever seen, and the hangover to match. You scrambled out of bed, still in the dark, and searched on top of your desk for the little bottle of Ibuprofen you keep for days just like this. Today’s the day…

Norm enters your room quietly, and is surprised to see you up already. “So nervous you couldn’t sleep?” He says with a tentative smile.

“Something like that.” 

“Hey…you’re happy about this, right? Tell me we haven’t done this for almost a decade for no reason, cause you know, we can’t just give someone else the Avatar.” he says, with an uncomfortable chuckle. 

“I’m happy, Norm. It’s just a lot to take in, you know? A lot is going to have to change, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t tend to do well with change.” you response, laughing to yourself.

“Yeah, me and Max worried about that, but, Ace… you have weathered every storm life’s thrown at you like a champ and I think beyond this great unknown lays a future so bright it will be able to make this planet shift on its axis.” 

You throw your head back and laugh loudly, “Wow, that’s a lot of trust right there. I’ll try not to disappoint.” 

If only Norm knew… knew how you have not been able to brave any storm, and how the storms, in time, turned to tornadoes and then hurricanes and then bigger hurricanes and all you’ve done your whole life is just move further in to the middle of the shelter hoping that someday they’ll just go away by themselves and when they do, there’s still some walls, any walls, surrounding you. 

You put some of Grace’s old workout clothes on and made your way to the Avatar room and properly looked at it, probably for the first time in your life. You used to love coming here as a kid, looking at the scientists in their link pods, at your mum in hers, sitting in Max’s lap and watching the brain activity, bombarding him with questions with answers you couldn’t’ possibly comprehend yet. You’ve moved away from that fascination in time. Now here you stood, about to get your own linkpod and your own brain activity analysed. You peered in the room next to it, where on a big flat metal table lay a blue body, and you couldn’t help yourself from moving closer until your breath was so close to the window in was fogging up the glass. You placed a hand on the cold glass and stared at the new you, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was beautiful, more so than you ever thought your human form to be. Your heart picked up pace in your chest and you were shocked at the realisation that the nerves that you thought only reflected fear and anxiety, also reflected excitement. 

“It’s time.” Max said from somewhere behind you.

You turned and made your way with timid steps towards the linkpod. You climbed on it and the feeling of the green malleable foam woke up a memory inside you, that you fought to push back to where it came from. Now’s not the time. It was cold on your arms and thighs as you lay in it, but weirdly comfortable, like what you would imagine water mattresses you saw in old Hollywood movies to feel. 

Max placed a metal frame of sorts on top on your own and spoke slowly. “Okay, you know the drill, Ace. You have to relax and let your mind go blank. You will be disoriented when you wake up, so take your time in there and don’t rush. Please don’t do a Jake.” 

You chuckled at the story you’ve heard one too many times, but never seemed to get tired of it. 

“We will have to run tests to make sure everything is in order. This is new territory for all of us, and we don’t know how the Avatar will behave yet, so we will take our time and do it right.” 

“Aye aye, Captain.”

You did as you were told and found it hard to relax and let your mind go blank when it was running a million miles an hour with so many emotions, so many thoughts and worries. Still, with all your might, you sat there, and cleared your mind for a split second. It was enough. 

You woke up like from a dream, feeling groggy and tired. Your muscles hurt, a lot. You winced slightly at the gentle touch of a hand, which felt like that time you touched the inside of an electrical socket and got slightly electrocuted. You felt clothes clinging to your body and hated the way the synthetic fabric felt against your skin. You took your first breath and your nose crinkled in disgust at the overbearing smell of alcohol and chloride. 

“Ace? C’mon kid, there you go, you can do it.” 

You finally opened your eyes and groaned at the intense light on the ceiling. Your eyes took a while to focus, but when they did, you saw Norm staring back at you with a smile.

“Hi.” you said, with a deep frown and groggy voice. This was overwhelming. 

“Hi back! Take it easy, alright? Me and Claire will runs some tests to make sure everything’s a-okay. It will take about an hour, I know this whole experience can be a bit strange in the beginning, so hopefully this will ease you into it.”

Norm was a man of his word, and after about an hour of wiggling every part of your body, touching your fingers to your nose, remembering names of objects and repeating it to them, among other things, you were ready to go. You realise to your surprise that you’re excited about going outside. You couldn’t stand the sensation overload that came with being in this lab, in this body. You stood up gently and removed the chords that were still attached to you. You turned around to look at the glass that was reflecting your new figure back at you, and found yourself at a loss for words for the millionth time in 24 hours. It was such a strange feeling, and you knew it would take you a while to get used to looking in the mirror and be met with this. You smiled and waved, knowing Max would be watching you from behind the glass, even though you couldn’t see it. 

Norm handed you a bag, and you peered inside to find a beige loincloth and the top Neytiri gifted you yesterday. “Go change, I think you’ll feel better in these.” 

You did as you were told. Removing the white hospital garb you had on, you looked at yourself fore the first time, properly looked. You were tall. Very tall. And skinny, very skinny. Lean was probably a better word for it, as you couldn’t see an ounce of fat anywhere on your body. You started poking your body in different spots and let out a small laugh at the feeling: it felt like touching soft metal. You were strong. The thought made you happy. You looked again in the mirror at your face. Big yellow eyes looked at you curiously. They traced your nose, and your plump lips and your white freckles, beautiful like the night sky. Your eyes settled on your hair, long and soft and dark and your arm reached behind you to bring your braid into focus. You lifted it and looked in awe at the queue and the way the tendrils were moving on their own accord. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like water breaking apart mountains to make a canyon of your mind. 

Neteyam’s words suddenly broke through.  “You’re not going to make it.” 

Adrenaline turned into rage and you hated it, hated the boy in that moment. Hated the effect his words had on you, even after so much time. You dressed slowly and tried to make sense of the “top” Neytiri gave you. Once you put it on, you looked back in the mirror and loved the way it looked on you. You also had a newfound appreciation for the soft feel of the feathers and the beads, and took note of the contrast between it and the unnatural feeling hospital gown you were in a few minutes ago. If it wasn’t for your eyebrows and your five fingers and your soft, straight hair, you wondered if anyone could be fooled into thinking you are, in fact, Na’vi. 

“You know nothing about the real world.” 

Dropping the clothes in the bag provided, you took one last look at yourself and saw something in your eyes that wasn’t there before. Determination. The sick, stubborn determination that has always made you push out all reason as soon as someone tells you you can’t do something. 

“Tell Norm no.”

You left the room smiling. You will make him eat his words, and you will enjoy every minute of it.

You reached for the mask packs by the entrance and dropped your hand. You will never have to wear that damn mask again, you thought with satisfaction. As you stood outside, it felt again like emerging in your avatar body for the first time. So many sounds, colours, sensations flooded your being and you couldn’t even register the voice yelling your name until the person that spoke it took you by the shoulders. You hissed at the sudden contact and it shocked you. Where did that come from? 

“Angel, you there?” 

“Give her a second, Lo’ak. This is bound to overwhelm her and you yelling at her isn’t going to speed up the process.”

“I can’t believe she just hissed at me.” 

The world slowly seemed to settle around you, and you focused you sight on the boy in front of you… the boy who was now your height.

“Lo’ak?” 

“Hey, you.” The younger Sully boy gave you a big smile and eyed you intently up and down a few times. “Damn, you’re hot this way, too. This is unfair, you know? But also somehow makes me feel better that it turns out I’m not into a different species altogether, just one girl.” 

You laughed, really laughed. Lo’ak was a charmer, another one of the many many traits he inherited from his dad. 

“You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” 

“Ouch.” You knew he wasn’t really offended, so you blew a kiss towards him and shifted your attention to the world, that you realise you have never seen before. Not properly. Its beauty left you speechless. You don’t know how you were supposed to function when all you wanted to do is just walk around, smelling the flowers. 

“We have to get going, you’re going to start your training today, and your new boss is not going to be happy if you’re late.”

“My new boss?”

“Yep. Neteyam has been given the tough job of taking your lab ass and turning it into a Na’vi warrior. I have to say, I don’t envy him,  and I definitely don’t envy you.” 

“Lo’ak, shut up.” 

Well, this is going to be fun… You had a hunch Neteyam would have to train you, as Lo’ak is too young and restless and cares about the rules too little, or not at all, to do it, but hearing it as a fact made you shudder. You haven’t spent a whole day with Neteyam in years, and you didn’t particularly care for this new-and-improved version of himself. You wondered silently how this was going to go. If the last two interactions are anything to go by, you were not in for a happy time.  

“Lo’ak should be here any second. I want you to start training her right away. Maybe start with the Pa’li first, and do bow training when that gets too much. You won’t really have to teach her the language, but try to make sure you talk in Na’vi more than in English, and this way you’ll see if there are any gaps in her knowledge and address them. Neteyam, are you listening?” 

The oldest Sully sibling was only half paying attention to what his dad was telling him. In truth, he was scared half to death. He didn’t want to do any of this. This is not how any of this was supposed to go. He couldn’t be around you. He didn’t want to be around you and he most definitely didn’t want to have to teach you the ways of the Na’vi and have to put his own training and responsibilities aside for this. He has already had to teach Lo’ak whenever his parents had better things to do and he was getting so fucking tired of being used as soon as it was convenient for other people. 

He pushed the bitter feelings aside. His parents relied on him for a reason, he tried to remember. They relied on him because they trusted him, and because he fought hard to be worthy of that trust. He had no right to complain, not when he knew how much worse it could be… for better or for worse, at least he had parents to rely on him. The thought made him sad, and he felt guilt at the words he spat at you yesterday. He knew they were for the greater good, but he also knew they crossed a line, a line that he might not be able to cross back from. 

He didn’t have time to think about the consequences of his actions, as he heard a yell that pulled him out of his thoughts and he knew it was time to come face to face with his worst nightmare. 

“We’re here!”, screamed Lo’ak, and Neteyam suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at his immature younger brother. 

He made his way outside of the tent, picking up his knife and placing it on the sheath resting beneath his chest. He took a deep breath, one that got lodged in his throat.

Next to Lo’ak was a girl. The most beautiful girl he has ever laid his eyes on. Her stripes were somehow more accentuated than normal, and they reminded him of his own. It was something he was insecure about growing up, the deep contrast something his friends and even family teased him about relentlessly, but now, looking at it on her, he realised they were blind - he was blind - to have ever hated them. Her eyes were now yellow, a big departure from her human eyes, and although it was strange, just like the rest of her, they still felt familiar to him. Like no matter what body she inhabited, her soul would always shine through, always calling out to him like a moth to a flame. He knew then he’d always feel like this about her, for the rest of his life, no matter what she looked like. Fuck.

“Look at you, kid! You look like you belong already!” 

Jake’s voice cut through the tension that you felt sitting here, being eyed at like you were a new cub at the zoo. The stares made you so uncomfortable you felt like you were going to explode, and could not wait until this was no longer a novelty to anyone, including yourself. 

“Thank you, Jake. For everything. I cannot express how grateful I am that you and Neytiri, and the tribe, are so willing to accept me in the village.” 

“No problem, kid. Anyway, we will have plenty of time to discuss everything tonight at dinner, but for now I think you and Neteyam should head off. There’s a lot to learn.”

“Right.” You turned around and gave a half-smile to Lo’ak, who looked at you like you were a deer in headlights. Maybe you did look how you felt. 

You bid a small goodbye to everyone and suddenly found yourself face to face with the only person you didn’t want to see. 

He started walking without saying a word, and you followed him. You refused to say anything to him, there was nothing to say to him after yesterday. Before yesterday, you might have demanded an explanation, you might have demanded he told you what happened to him in the year he abandoned you, what lead to him leaving without a single word, how dare he forget about what he meant to you and what you knew you meant to him, how could he just forsake you like you were nothing; you would have screamed at him and told him you hated him without meaning it and hoped he would just hug you and told you he’s sorry, that he was stupid and that he’ll never leave you again. None of that came out. You were past that. He crossed a line and you knew it in your mind that no explanation would be enough, no excuse would justify his behaviour enough to satisfy you and make you forget. Not anymore. 

His back was to you as he was leading you away from the Sully tent, and for the first time in your life, you saw him for what he was. A leader, a warrior. He was lean and muscular, and his physique reminded you a lot more of Jake than a Na’vi man’s. His shoulders were broader and his arms were bigger, leading to a more accentuated contrast between them and his waist, and you hated yourself for how it made you feel, how your mouth filled with saliva you had to force yourself to swallow and how your pulse increased so rapidly it almost made you dizzy. He was taller than you, taller than Lo’ak and you knew that even in this body, he would still tower over you. You definitely hated how that made you feel. 

He stopped at the entrance to a tent. He opened the flap of the entrance and motioned for you to enter. You obliged without a word. He followed you in and closed the flap behind him. You didn’t like being in such close proximity, but you knew you’d have to get used to it, so you let it go.

“This is now your tent. Mum and Dad thought you would feel more comfortable with your own space. They also thought you’d like my old training bow. There’s a pouch for your knife that you can put around your torso and I have the knife, but I won’t give it to you until I make sure you won’t kill me with it.” 

As far as an attempt to diffuse an awkward situation goes, this wasn’t half bad. Still, not nearly good enough to matter. He sighed at the lack of response.

“Right. I think we have to get a few things straight.”

Your eyebrow raised, but you let him go on.

“I know you’re mad. I know you’re so mad you’re probably thinking of ways of sticking needles in my eyes. But I don’t care. I was given a responsibility to take care of you and to teach you. I know you think you know everything, but you don’t. I know you think you know this world, but you don’t. Not in the way you need to, to survive. There’s a reason no scientist living on Pandora has ever become one of the people. You can’t see. As my grandma always says, “you cannot fill a cup which is already full”. I know you. Your cup is overflowing. From now on, you do what I say. Pretend you don’t know me, pretend we’re not you and me.” 

“I don’t know you, Neteyam.”

He winced inside at the words. “That’s enough!” He said, forcefully. 

“You answer to me from now on and I want to make sure you understand that. Dad will skin me alive if anything happens to you. You will listen and you will do as I say. Whatever issues you have, you’re going to have to deal with them in your own time.” 

Another blow below the belt, you thought, and reminded yourself that you were here for a reason, you were here to make him eat his words, and if he wanted to play his game this way, you were more than happy to beat him at it. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

You made your way out of the village and walked in silence through the woods. You were looking at the bow in your hand, and carefully traced every mark and scratch on its surface. You couldn’t help wonder about what events in Neteyam’s life lead to each and every one of them, and vowed to yourself that you would take care of this bow with your life, if not for anything else, for the still untarnished memory of that little boy you once loved so much. Once you reached a large clearing, with beautiful lush greenery and a majestic waterfall, you thought this was definitely a much better view for training than the reagent-filled benches of the lab. You saw about half a dozen Pa’li peacefully feeding off the sweet nectar of flowers in the distance, and smiled gently at the sight. You will never get used to it, you knew. 

“First step to being a Na’vi, learning to form Tsaheylu and learning to ride the Pa’li.” Neteyam spoke in Na’vi over the soothing sounds of the forest.

“OK.” You answered shortly.

“In Na’vi. We speak Na’vi from now on.”

“Kurkung (asshole).” Neteyam shoots you a dirty look and you can’t help but smirk. “What? That’s Na’vi. Perfect pronunciation, by the way.” 

His mouth tightened in a straight line and he left you, busying himself with a Pa’li he called over. He caressed it gently and held his hand next to his eye, whispering. 

“Tam tam, Tirea, tam tam.” 

“Get on.” He spoke to you still looking at the Pa’li. 

Even in this body, the direhorse was significantly taller than you, and you shot Neteyam an incredulous look. Regardless, you made your way to the animal and with all of your might, willed yourself to get on top of it. It took a couple of tries, but you eventually succeeded. You were stronger than you realised, and you were excited to discover exactly how strong you could become in time. 

Neteyam gently took the neural whip of the direhorse and guided it to you. You took it in your right hand and stared at it in amazement. You have heard so much about this, you have seen it firsthand with Neteyam’s Ikran, but to know you will now have to make your own Tsaheylu, experience this deep bond you knew everything and yet nothing about, it was terrifying. You left hand went behind your head and brought forward your own queue. This was it. Slowly, you brought the two together, and held tightly on to the Pa’li as the new sensation overwhelmed all of your senses. It felt like all of your neurons were firing at the same time. It felt like you were being electrocuted. As the feeling subsided, you felt a breath that was moving at the same time as your own, you felt a second heartbeat that was going much faster than yours possibly could, and you tried to calm yourself down as you knew the nervousness the animal felt was mirroring your own. Neteyam allowed you a second to experience this for yourself with no interruption, and you appreciated that. He trusted you enough to give you some space, and with everything, at least this hasn’t changed.

“This is Tsaheylu. The bond. Take some time to feel her, feel her heartbeat, her breath. Feel her strong legs. You can tell her what to do, inside your mind. Remember that as you can feel her, she can feel you, too. Your emotions impact her, your thoughts impact her, so you have to calm your mind.Easier said than done in your case, I fear.” 

You felt your anger pick up and the Pa’li let out a scream and rose on its hind legs, throwing you straight in the dirt. Neteyam laughed, but came to help you get up. As you were removing mud from your face and hair and cursing all manners of profanities under you breath, you came to the bitter realisation this was going to be harder than you thought, especially with him as your teacher. 

He still knew you too well. You slapped his hand away and got up by yourself, indignantly. You jumped back on the Pa’li and tried your very, very best, to calm yourself before making the bond. The horse didn’t react as violently as last time, so you figured you were off to a better start. You calmed your mind as much as you could, like you did in the linkpod, and imagined her slowly moving forward. You smiled when she did just that, no words needed. It was hard to be able to maintain your composure when you were LITERALLY mind controlling another living being, but despite it needing active continuous effort, you felt you were doing a good job. You managed to make her go, sprint, gallop and turn, and despite the direhorse’s best efforts, you were somehow still tightly attached to its back. 

After a couple of hours, Neteyam told you to get off. He told you to follow him, and he took off, not sparing you a second glance. You followed him the best you could for a while, desperately trying to overlook how uncomfortable being barefoot made you feel. You didn’t like it at all, and more and more, you felt your heartbeat picking up in your chest and your knees shaking. You felt beads of sweat getting in your eyes and they stung, so you stopped. Your laboured breath became shallow, and your hands were shaking uncontrollably as you raised them to wipe your forehead. You felt your knees collapse under you, and you knew what was about to happen and that it was too late to stop it. 

“Neteyam, wait up.” You called after the blue boy, slight panic in your voice.

“I thought we were supposed to be racing.” 

“You win, alright? Don’t leave me alone in the woods.” 

You saw Neteyam jogging back to where you stood with a guilty look on his face. “You know I’d never leave you alone.”

He picked you up and placed you on his back. “After 16 years, have I ever left you alone?” 

“Well, you’ve been training a lot recently and I barely get to see you anymore, so I would say yes, you leave me alone plenty, more than I can say I care for.” 

“Well, I want to be strong and capable so I can always protect you. I mean look at you, Tuk’s gonna be stronger than you soon.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You pretended to ignore his first sentence and how it lit your entire body on fire. 

You walked like this for a while. You placed your head on his shoulder and peered up at the tall trees. Prolimuris were swinging on them, picking up fruits as they went along. You saw two infants following their mother and stopping on the same branch as her, where she passed them what you were sure was a tasty afternoon snack. You smiled contently at the scene, and at the feeling of warmth Neteyam provided. 

“Put me down, I want to walk! I came with you to exercise, not be carried like a tiny Pandoran baby.” 

He did as you asked, huffing at your forever mercurial temper. 

With your back still to him, you let out a laugh and started running. “Race you to the clearing in the distance?” 

He rolled his eyes, and with a laugh, stopped himself. He always gave you a head start. “Fine, but you can’t get mad when I beat you again!” 

You turned around to give him a smile as you were running and loved the feeling of the ground beneath your feet. The only place you could run around barefoot, the only time you still felt alive. 

You came to an abrupt halt when your foot touched something strange, something unnatural. You slowly looked at your feet and froze in place as the smooth pale object made your blood run cold. It couldn’t be. You stepped away from it, not leaving it from your view and slowly, deliberately knelt down next to it. You heard Neteyam coming to a halt behind you, but couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge his presence. Your hands started digging in the ground with morbid curiosity and the sounds around you became muffled as your erratic heartbeat was the only thing you could still hear. You removed the ground around it and tears formed in your eyes at the realisation that this was indeed what you feared it was: a human skull. A human skull you just stepped on. Before you knew it, your hands were reaching for a glimmer of silver shining in the shallow grave. You lifted it to your eye line and heard yourself scream, wail louder than you ever had before. The panic that overtook you was primal, but not unfamiliar and you threw the dog tag on the ground, with enough force you hoped would bury it further than anybody would ever be able to dig. You couldn’t see properly anymore, the tears and dizziness flooding your senses and you prayed you passed out, prayed to make this stop, prayed you were back in your room where your Xanax always lay by your bedside table. In a blind rage, you were clawing at your feet, trying to remove the dirt, remove the skin that stepped on your dad’s dead body like it was a gum wrapper on the pavement. Soon enough, you could taste the metal taste of blood that was lingering in the air and by the grace of whatever spirit was out there still looking after you, you felt yourself collapse in Neteyam’s arms. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi

[goldkirk]

I don’t know how to explain any more clearly that it doesn’t MATTER if it seems legitimate to you. You have got to fact check every single headline and post and claim on the left just like you need to do on the right.

The left is NOT immune to misinformation and rushed reporting. And the more emotionally polarizing or shocking the talking points, sound bytes, and headlines are, the worse it is and more frequently it happens.

Learn to verify through multiple independent sources. If you can’t do that, you can’t trust it.

If you have to wait extra hours for the real information to come through vetted channels—NOT just one individual somewhere everyone links to, and not just one single media source either, EVEN if it’s a major news network—thats just how it has to be. What news outside of genuine local disasters near you TRULY needs your outrage and post-sharing in the next hour specifically?

Misinformation works best by not seeming like misinformation and by fitting in with the rest of what you already expect to see. It doesn’t help anyone to not be able to recognize and avoid the stuff.

[here-there-were-dragons]

i have to wonder what super hardcore militant vegans think should be done about obligate carnivore animals, because in all my painfully-rapidly-approaching-30-years i've literally never actually seen anyone give a clear consistent much less halfway feasible answer on that

[no-pasaran-99]

oop. crazy how many people i have unfollowed/blocked today for the cyclical and asinine sentiment along the lines of "well leftists are you HAPPY now????"

girl we've done this 3 elections in a row. definition of insanity to still be blaming this on us especially when the numbers do not support your accusations. like we voted for the fucking war criminals and you STILL lost.

[crimsoncowl]

I'm thinking about ultron's children, specifically victor and this is a canon divergence, but I do think ultron was in love with marianella (victor's mom) and I also do think ultron pushed for the name 'victor' as a nod to victor von doom

[magpiesbones]

worst thing about being disabled is that now I am fully and completely aware of exactly how much I am worth to everyone I know. And it is not a lot!!

[toytulini]

Disclaimer im just processing some thoughts im not cancelling the show

have almost thoughts about how i find the like....narrative on here that if you have chronic "zebra" conditions youd want a doctor like House and wouldnt sue for malpractice bc at least youd have a doctor that cares about whats wrong with you but lets take it one step further. so often he does NOT give a shit about the patient and actively endangers them frequently with his god damn heoric era of medicine approach? non zero amount of times he gets a diagnosis but it comes too late, or he gets a diagnosis after their first wrong 3 guesses of the episode shut down the patients kidneys and they either have to get a transplant or they are just, doomed due to other preexisting conditions etc? idk. i know ppl are almost certainly exaggerating and just letting off steam about the very real failures of our current medical systems and the ableism baked in and All That Shit. i just think its weird how ppl romanticize House who STILL, FREQUENTLY, MULTIPLE EPISODES will actively dismiss shit in the exact way that is a problem in our current system, especially when hes being Forced Against His Will To See Clinic Parients, he loves to be dismissive as fuck of symptoms and if he was a real doctor i think he'd be fucking 50/50 on cases he Notices Something To Dig Into vs cases he dismisses as an Anxious Hysterical Woman Who Wants Attention, the only reason he's Right so frequently in his snap judgements is cos it reinforces the narrative. its like a crime drama that has the mastermind serial killer masterfully using "loopholes" and lawyering up all sneaky and dodging Justice and if only our poor little cop protags were allowed to do A TEENY BIT of Justified Police Brutality, they could Save Lives!

and like sometimes in the show they will have a patient die despite his efforts to narratively punish him. not to mention, i think its been at least mildly brought up and glossed over how much they absolutely do not think about insurance costs for these ppl for the insane amount of tests that find nothing and Wrong Medications To Force A Diagnosis they use? i think it was brought up once in the episode following a day in the life of cuddy where she had to fight a lawsuit bc a guys insurance like didnt cover his thumb being reattached but chase reattached it anyway while in surgery cos it was The Right Thing To Do and the guy didnt have the money to cover it and the insurance wouldnt pay unless he sued the hospital or whatever. thats like the only time its come up. whereas like frequently the doctor I go to for osteopathic manipulation tries to check in with me and make sure im covered by insurance etc and that im not going to go broke or get buried in medical debt seeing her.

idk. just some Thoughts. not a defense of our current system and all the flaws it enables and enforces etc. his approach to medicine is really reminiscent to me of what I know of the Heroic Era Of Medicine which i dont...love? and hes framed on here as being an asshole but would kill for his patients to get them a diagnosis etc. but hes definitely extremely paternalistic to patients ? and despite some good clippable lines about ableism and being against eugenics, it honestly feels like his stance on that is kind of a toss up.

[theoreticalli]

I will not get into arguments with my irl friends about ai I will not get into arguments with my irl friends about ai I will not get into arguments with my irl friends about ai I will not get into arguments with my irl friends about ai

[blujayonthewing]

waoh boy I love to sleep in my bed in my bedroom with my husband and just simply not actually sleep even a little bit because my body is hurts

[dan-crimes]

I gotta complain abt being a picky eater here for a sec cuz I'm lookin @ all this stuff on the breakfast menu and there's always the SAME ingredients in all these SAME food items and it would be SO much easier if I could just order food without having to think of all the stuff I DON'T want on my food cuz I always gotta put in so much effort to look into every single ingredient in every since food item that I order bcuz I DON'T LIKE MOST FOODS !!! SMHH !!

[tonycries]

The Heir - G.S.

Synopsis. No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, established relationship, he’s cray-cray (for you), bréeding - like a LOT, oral (fem receiving), unprotected, creampíe, marathon, séx, running from it, use of “my wife”, overstim, FÉRAL Satoru, absolutely heinous, mentions of kníves and bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.3k

A/N. Guess what ya girlie is back with clan leader Gojo hehe.

An heir to the Gojo clan - no matter how small, how weak - could eradicate all three of the big clans before even being born. Much like their father. 

You knew that. Satoru knew that. And, unfortunately for him, so did the stuck-up old toad currently sputtering across from him. 

“I am not asking for permission.” Satoru smiles, deathly calm. “Simply that everyone vacates the Estate. After all, what the madam wants, the madam shall get.”

“But- but young master! It’s madness- An heir can tip the scales of power like never before!” The elder lunges frantically over the meeting room table. “I cannot allow- a-and considering the madam’s lowly lineage-”

Schwing!

They say that the infamous young head of the Gojo clan has a katana as hauntingly beautiful as he is - a blade of pure white, with a sapphire hilt. Though, there wasn’t anyone left to tell the tale - and Satoru wasn’t about to let that change anytime soon. 

The long, deceptively delicate sword glints sharply against Satoru’s humorless grin, and those cold, cold eyes. Unblinking - crazed, as he hums, “What did you say about my wife?”

The man in front of him can do nothing but yelp in fear, “I- it could- the scale of ah-”

“No.” The freezing cold blade presses deeper against skin. And Satoru’s tutting, “Try again.”

“Th-the madam!” Pathetic tears stain those expensive tatami mats below, every shred of previous ego wiped away as the elder’s forced to echo his words. “It is no lie that her b-background is…unsuitable-”

Oh this was why Satoru hated these meetings - and for once in his life he’d been the one to summon it instead of being forced to attend. What a joke. If only this elder had agreed to vacate everyone in the Estate like he’d wanted, then none of this would’ve happened. Seriously, how hard was it to get some alone time with you? 

Satoru sighs, blue yukata rustling as he grips the hilt tighter. “Do you know why you’re here, advisor? Why any of you little council of elders are still here?” And he doesn’t wait for an answer - couldn’t care less about it anyway. Plowing on in that same sweet, dangerous tone - as if scolding a stubborn child, “My lovely wife is kind, you see. Too kind. Doesn’t like for me to get my hands dirty.”

He lets his arm retract slightly, as if giving up on the conversation topic at hand. And oh for all his wisdom, the elder should’ve known better than to let the silence lull into one of safety. Should’ve known better than to let out a breath of relief. Relaxing - ever-so-slightly, to be stupid enough to mutter, “S-see young master. I told- you-”

Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he’s chuckling - and that was never a good sign for anyone but you. “She’d make such a perfect mother, don’t you think?”

---

SLAM!

You startle - there was only ever one person that dared to kick open the doors of the Gojo Estate that way, like he was out for blood.

Eyes tearing from your window towards the now-splintered doorway and-

Oh. Oh shit. 

Your voice dies in your throat as the metallic tang of blood hits your nose - followed very shortly by the realization that this was your husband. Towering figure leaning against the frame, gaze frantic - bouncing off everywhere but you, fingers twitching on the stained handle of his katana, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost. 

What the fuck happened?

“Satoru?” you breathe. And the sound of your voice his eyes finally snap to you - widening, like he’d finally noticed your figure standing there. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. Stepping forward in concern, “Are you o-”

You’ve barely made it two steps before Satoru’s closing the distance in a split-second, dropping to his knees before you with a harsh thump!

You wince at the sound, but if it hurt then he doesn’t show it. Anything but - in fact, looking more blissed out than you’ve ever seen him as he lets his prized katana clatter to the floor, looping two powerful arms around your waist.

And it’s times like this - when he nuzzles his cheek against your stomach, sighing in contentment - that you forget about those blossoming stains of red on his yukata. None of his, you bet. 

Threading your fingers through his soft hair, you repeat, “Are you okay, Toru?”

And oh. 

Oh, it only takes those words - and your sweet sweet voice - before Satoru’s entire body jolts. Taking a sharp inhale, fingers trembling as they clutch onto the fabric of your yukata. “An heir.” Words strained, ragged. Some deep, visceral part of himself peaking up at you through those hazy, half-lidded eyes, “Would you give me an heir, my wife?”

You weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re gasping - partially because of his words, partially because that’s all it takes for him to yank you down. Sprawling you out like such a slut on the floor. “Wha- an heir?”

It’s not something you expected him to even consider - that sleepy, quiet little pillowtalk from earlier today where you’d mindlessly wondered out loud whether your husband was ready for kids. Hell, Satoru was never a morning person, so you didn’t expect him to even have heard the question let alone this. 

Nosing at your racing pulse, whispering, “An heir. You think I’d ever deny you, pretty?” Like he couldn’t believe it himself - sharp canines nipping at your neck, “My heir.”

It’s like it was the only thing he could say - could even think about right now as his lips burned a path down your jaw, into the valley of your breasts. Muffled, “N’ now we have the Estate all to ourselves, so I can ruin you as much as I hah- want.”

And for the second time today, you’re actually registering that this wasn’t the same yukata your husband had kissed senseless in before the meeting. Or, at least, those patches of red were new.

“Satoru…” You pull his face back.

“No- no no please- Come back-” you squeal when he just drags you across the floor by the hips, pressing you up against that massive bulge, back to sloppily kissing the underside of your jaw. “Was jus’ one I swear- m’sorry about gettin’ the fabric dirty.”

“Satoru.”

“Wasn’t gonna break you where everyone could hear right?” 

And fuck he doesn’t wait to hear a response, no - it’s been far too long, and every little scold from you has all the blood in Satoru’s body rushing to his aching cock. His lips are crashing onto yours, so desperate and needy. 

“Sa-toru!” you manage to squeal through the way he sips at your candied lips. Letting out pained, breathless little grunts like each swipe of his tongue against your mouth was driving him insane. 

“Shhh shhh, m’here m’here.” he pants into your open mouth, hands wandering everywhere. Cupping your ass, your breasts, nudging open your jaw to let him suck so filthily on your tongue. “Fuck- m’here.” He’s licking up the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth already, “N’ m’gonna ruin-” One hand makes its way to palm your clothed cunt, “-her.”

But, alas, no matter how many times Satoru’s done this before - it never gets any easier, or as less heavenly of a sight for him. 

With you all disheveled and splayed out for him, your tits almost spilling out of your yukata with the way his hands have been so greedy. So thoughtless. 

Satoru groans, dipping his head forward to peck messily at your lips. “Mmm- ” Pulling back just enough to mutter, “Gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, hm?” 

It’s all you can do to give him a half-delirious little nod of agreement, lower lip wobbling at just how hungrily he was looking at you. Eyes wide, lips curling into a crazed smile, fingers trembling with anticipation as he deftly works on untying your robe. 

“Is my wife gonna give me a pretty baby?” He gasps out, strangled. “An heir?” He presses a sloppy peck to your glossy lips, strings of spit snapping when he breaks apart to whisper. “One to take out all these dumb fucks?” Again, so dizzyingly. And again. “Oh how I’d love to see their fuckin’ faces.” And again and again and again. Kisses punctuated by that little mantra - “An heir. My heir. I need you to give me a baby, pretty.”

And then your yukata’s being pulled down your shoulders, the expensive fabric ripping down the side with the way he was so ravenous. Goosebumps prickling down your skin as fast as Satoru can get his hands on every inch of you.

“Oh, look at you.” his jaw falls slack, palms kneading at your soft breasts. “Fuck- the mother of my kids.” He rolls his thumb over your hardened nipples, rubbing lazy little circles, “I need to- fuck!” 

Before you know it he’s pinning your arching body down onto the floor. One hand easily pinning down both of yours, the other angling your lips back onto his, a knee wedged between your damp thighs. 

You whine at the feeling of Satoru’s thigh rubbing up against your drenched panties.

But he could barely hear - fuck, you didn’t even know if Satoru was breathing with the way he wraps his pretty pink lips around one of your pert nipples. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks - harsh.

“Need to fill these up- s’gonna be so sweet. So full.” he’s blabbering into your tits, tongue rolling around your sensitive nipples. Incessant, like he was somehow trying to draw out milk. “I can only hope they hah- share, right?”

You buck your hips up, mewling as your throbbing clit catches on the dips and curves of the muscles on Satoru’s leg. “P-please, Toru. Don’t tease.”

And oh, when has he ever denied you? Hell, Satoru would burn down this entire world and himself if it meant giving his wife anything and everything. Especially the future mother of his kids. 

With a final, playful bite, you watch with glassy eyes at the way he dances his lips down. Slow. Teasing. Eyes locked with you all the while like some sort of predator cornering his prey. 

“And this-” Satoru stops halfway down, pressing a deep, sultry kiss onto your bare stomach, “Oh this. Gonna be so round n’ pretty. Absolutely glowing f’me, right? Fuck!” 

Snapping his head down at the feeling of your grinding your hips so sluttily onto his legs, slick seeping through your panties and onto his skin. 

“Oh.” he sighs, awe-struck. More to himself than you at this point, “You can kill me if you’re not with my heir by the time we’re done, pretty.”

A promise.

And with it went whatever was left of Satoru’s poor sanity - and whatever pathetic chance there was of you making it out of this alive. 

Immediately, Satoru fists your flimsy panties in his grasp. So see-through they were practically useless anyway. Reveling in your panicked little gaze as he pulls - rips them clean off your dripping cunt. 

“Oh god- There we go.” he moans, hooking two arms underneath your legs and pushing up, up, up - all the way until your knees were pressing up against your tits. Your lips wobble when Satoru takes the time to admire your pussy, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs to watch the way you glisten and clench at nothing. Licking his lips - salivating even - at the sight of your slick beading through your puffy folds. He runs a thumb along your sopping wet slit, “Better wish her good luck tonight.”

And, usually, your husband was refined - he teased and toyed with your poor cunt until you were begging to have an ounce of friction. But right now, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash with how fast he’s pushing his face into your pussy.

“Mm-” Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his tongue laps at your dripping wet cunt. Tipping his head back, back, back to let your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. “Fuck that. Even luck won’t save you from me- hah-”

“Toru!” you arch off the cool floor as he cards the tip of his tongue between your puffy folds. From the base of your sloppy entrance, all the way up to your throbbing clit. “Hngh- s’too-”

He was going too fast too soon. 

You whine at the palm pushing your unstable hips flat onto the ground, holding you still while Satoru licks all over as he pleases. “Now now, how are ya gonna ngh- fuck so sweet- handle later if ya can’t even handle this, pretty?”

Sucking on your clit in such a messy, open-mouthed kiss. “Fuck. Shouldn’t have told me about an heir.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Harsh - rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub in a way he knows will have you crying out so prettily. “Fuuuck you shouldn’t h- oh- Ohhh, look at you, my wife.”, breathing in deep, ragged gasps of air only to go deeper. “Fuck- just look at you. You’re so wet I could fuck you just like this.”

As if to prove his point, he’s urgently bullying the tip of his tongue between your plushy walls. And it was true - so pathetically true. You take him in so easily. 

Somehow, you manage to crack an eye open to spy downwards - only to be met with Satoru’s eyes already on yours. Hazy, curtained by his messy hair, swollen lips curving up to flash you such a devilish grin as he squeezes his tongue past that feeble, first ring of resistance. In and out in and out in and-

“Ohh. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” His jaw grinds deeper, nose flush against your clit. “Ya like that idea? Like the thought of me p-painting ah- slutty pussy white already?”

Your embarrassed little whine isn’t enough of an answer for your husband. No, he’s pressing his fingers - all glossy and covered with a sheen of your slick - onto your pulsing clit. Just barely grazing in a way that has you crying out. 

Making out with your cunt so sloppily, “Tha’s more like it.” Heavy eyes boring into yours - goading, even, for you to give more of a reaction. “Fuck- use those words, pretty. Scream.” Satoru’s fucking into your sloppy hole the way he’s been dreaming to do with his rock-hard cock. “After all, we h-have the Estate all to ourselves, right?”

Faster. Sloppier. 

Pushing and pulling his tongue in a way that has you sobbing, “Yes! Please- wan’- ngh” Thighs squeezing around Satoru’s fervent head, “W-wan you to jus’ breed me, Toru-”

Oh.

Fuck, you might’ve just signed your will away at this point. 

Because in a split-second, you’re cumming. 

Shit, were you glad that there was no one in the house. Sobbing out a broken whine of his name, fingers white-knuckled on Satoru’s hair while you gush all over his pretty face. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all over his mouth - using him through your high. 

And he’s more than happy to be dragged and angled all you please. Greedily lapping up your syrupy sweet juices, just dipping his tongue into your hole to feel the way you clench around him. 

But it’s not long before Satoru’s pulling away. Swallowing a disappointed whine, you gape up at the absolutely feral man looming above you. 

Lips plump and glossy, your juices dripping all the way down his chin, his jaw. Teeth bared, a pretty pink blush dusting over those cheeks - and you have half the mind to wonder how high the kill count actually is. Whether you’d be on it, too. 

“Heh, kill count?” Satoru grins, teeth grazing so dangerously over your racing pulse. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Funny, real funny.” And with that, he’s thumbing apart your swollen folds, biting his lips at the sight of your quivering hole. “Wonder if our- hah- kid’s gonna have your-” Without warning, he spits. Once. Twice. Gliding the pads of his fingers along the thick globs of spit on your cunt, “-humor?”

And oh how ironic it was for Satoru to be groaning out sweet little spiels of what your kids might look like, when his fingers were anything but. 

Stretching out your gummy entrance, having the audacity to laugh - laugh - at how desperately your pussy was trying to milk his fingers. 

“Y-you’re so mean-”

“And yer killin’ me- ohhh you’re gonna be the death of me.” he mutters - strained. Depraved. Hastily pushing apart his yukata. He hisses, “Fuck-”

You can’t help but gasp at the sinful sight before you - Satoru’s blush reaches down his sculpted chest, down, down, down all the way to his painfully hard cock. Curved against his abs, already so angry and soaked with precum. Giving you a pretty little peak of those veins glistening against the dim lighting. 

Before you even know what’s happening, he’s circling his fat, weepy head around your sloppy hole. Slow, lazy patterns to tease your cunt. “Can only pray m’not dead before I see ngh- fuck- my heir.”

It’s like something breaks. And Satoru’s remembering that no, this isn’t just any child - it’s the next Gojo. That grip on the base of his swollen cock tightening when he slips past your pussy lips. 

“Oh! Toru- f-fuck wait s’too big-” you keen, nails digging into where his yukata was sliding off his milky, sculpted shoulders. Hard enough to break skin. “It’s ah-”

“No.” he spits into your sagging mouth. “No no no no- wait fuck- ngh squeezing so fucking- tight.” Hips pushing in quick, shallow little thrusts to squeeze more of his achy head inside. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck hold on. Need this. Need this so bad- please!”

And you can’t do anything but arch into his touch, scrambling up onto your elbows to- shit, that was a bad idea. 

Because one look at the sight of your poor cunt, all bulging and stretched out on Satoru’s massive cock was enough to have you running away. 

You’d barely made a movement to escape, feet flattening on the floor to buck your hips because shit it was too much. And it was a useless effort, anyway, because Satoru’s dragging you back so easily, pulling your limp body deeper down his swollen cock. 

“Need this. Need this need this so bad, pretty.” he groans, barely even halfway in yet. Still pushing, still relentless. “Need to breed this cunt so bad.”

Some tiny, useless part of Satoru’s rationality knows that he should slow down - maybe give you a second to relax. To maybe even breathe. But he was out of control now, hips stuttering and wrenching forwards like he couldn’t stop. 

So he’s simply gripping onto your shaky thighs harder, sure to leave neat little indents of his nails to admire tomorrow - or, whenever he gets back his sanity, that is. 

Satoru hisses at the way you’re so pliant below him. Limp, letting him rest your legs on his muscled shoulders. “Think I needa manhandle ya more often, pretty.” Pressing down, down - all the way until you were folded in half beneath him in such a mean mating press. “Can’t- can’t stop-”

The change in angle makes you scream out Satoru’s name - and it makes him bottom out. Finally. 

Fuck, you weren’t making it out alive.

“Oh.” he grunts at the feeling of his heavy balls smacking against your ass, his fat, leaky tip kissing against your cervix. God, if Satoru was any less of a man he thinks he could’ve cum just from the feeling of you trying to suck him up already. 

“Oh- oh my god-” you gasp when he presses down about halfway down your stomach, Pressing down for that bulge, hard. “You’re in s-so deep ngh- S’like you’re pushing into my ngh- lungs.”

Fuck, if you talked any more with that pretty mouth then Satoru was bound to pass out. Blindly, he’s feeling for your pouty mouth, kissing and nibbling at your wobbling lips like a subconscious apology. For what was to come, that is.

Because Satoru Gojo spares no apologies when he starts moving - finally. Finally fucking you the way he’s been dreaming of all throughout that droning meeting. 

And he says so - a little over fifteen times, in fact, while he splits you apart on his cock. 

“-n’ when I was negotiating those ngh- c-clan deals. N’ when I was at that meeting-” he gasps, shoving your legs so far apart it burned. “S’all I could hah- think of. Everything - don’t give a fuck if I got a contract wrong.”

Each word was punctuated by a rough, harsh ram of his cock, stretching out your gummy walls so far apart like he wanted to make his mark there. Pushing - even when he could feel his aching tip nudging at your cervix.

So merciless - violent even - with the way he’s slamming back into you. Molding your plushy walls to every ridge and curve of his massive cock. It was impossible to even form coherent sentences with his harsh pace. 

A large hand flattens beside your head as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper. More purposeful. You almost sob at the sheer pressure when he dances his fingers down to rub quick, methodical little circles on your clit. “Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. “M-more.”

But it wasn’t enough.

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. And shit at that very moment you almost understood why even the most hardened of clan leaders feared to even look at Gojo Satoru wrong. Because he was giving you a sopping, fucked-out smile, eyes widened, voice trembling, “You want more?”

And of course this was the strongest. Of course, he was ruthless. 

Of course, it takes him exactly two seconds to pull out of your heavenly cunt and flip you onto your stomach. One hand coming under you to angle your hips up until you were on all fours - like some ragdoll. The other feverish, distracting on your clit while he bullies his achingly hard cock past your sopping entrance once more. 

“Fuck!” your voice is hoarse when you scream. Teeth gritting because fuck the stretch was too sinful and Satoru’s hips were too harsh. Too hellbent on fucking into you like he’d lost control. “O-oh please, Toru-”

He doesn’t waste time easing you into it this time, picking up where he left off with that maddening cadence. And you were glad he had an arm on your hips because your knees were weakening with each thrust, slowly sliding down the floor before-

“Aw, my poor girl.” you hear Satoru coo from above you. Muscled chest rubbing up against your back, “S’alright. M’gonna take care of it. You jus’ hafta take it- jus’ take it like the good lil’ wife you are.” his body bows into yours, strands of white sticking to his forehead. “N’ I’ll take fuck fuck fuck- care of everything.” So sloppy with his rhythm, pushing you further and further up the floor with each movement - only to reel you right back so easily. “I’ll wash ‘em and hah- clothe ‘em n’ t-teach ‘em to take over this godforsaken society. To protect their momma.”

“T-Toru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”

“Hm?”

He didn’t even have to ask - he could feel the way you were squeezing so hard around him, like you were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him. The way the only thing you could get out was his name. 

His perfect wife. 

Sobbing out, “Close! So close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

He was losing his fucking mind. 

Biting down so hard at the crook of your neck to keep himself from cumming before you, he moans deliciously, “Then cum. Fucking cum. Please- wan’ you to cum on my cock.” Wrists aching with how desperate he was moving, “Cum- yeah yeah yeah fucking- cum- Cum for your husband.”

Oh, if heaven was real then whatever was left of that part of Satoru that could still form coherent thoughts knew that this was it. 

Watching you fall apart like such a slut all over his cock. Not even realizing it at first - just that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, swollen lips falling slack, letting out such a pretty cry of his name that he can’t help but cum, too. 

You don’t know who’s more far gone - you, with your head spinning, a lewd little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time Satoru fucks you through your high. 

Or him, gushing out in thick, hot ropes of cum that overspill from your snug cunt. 

“So muchhh.” you whine, heavy head being held up by your husband. “S’too much.”

And he knew what you were talking about - because Satoru was cumming and cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Because he was mesmerized by that creamy trail of white drooling down your folds, forming an obscene ring at those tufts of white at his base. 

“Too much?” Satoru hisses. “Too much?”

You can only give a barely-lucid nod, whimpering when he doesn’t ease up. Not one bit, in fact, Satoru was only abandoning the hand playing with your ravaged clit to press down on your abdomen. Hard. 

“There we hah- go. Better now?” The hand supporting your head forced you to look down below, at the sticky mess of white covering your cunt. Slobbering all over Satoru’s cock - even down to his thighs. “Now we got fuck- more space.”

You don’t even realize you’re scrambling away until Satoru gasps, panicked, “No no no- we’re not done, pretty. Fuckkk we’re far from done.” Fingers tightening around your neck to pull you deeper down his cock, holding you in place. Just dragging you along his length. “Gotta make sure it takes. Why else d’you think no one in the Estate will be back until tomorrow?”

He doesn’t wait for a response - not that you could give one, anyway, with how you were being fucked dumb on his cock again. 

A strong, powerful leg hooks around yours, pushing you down with his body weight. “So that we ngh- h-have enough time to prepare for my heir.” Weeping head grazing all those sensitive spots so expertly. “T-to plan and and- ruin you and- fuck you feel so good. They’ll be the most powerful- hah- jus’ watch. Those fuckers better w-wait and see.”

So debauched and fucked-out that you don’t even know what he’s running his mouth about now, just heavy, urgent words slurred into your neck while he fucks you just as sloppily. 

“Don’t know?”

Fuck. You said it out loud again. 

And the embarrassing realization has your eyes screwing open, gazing tearily back at an amused Satoru. Well, as amused as he could be when he was just as wrecked as you. 

Kissing your sweaty forehead, hips reeling back all the way until your cunt was missing the stretch - bucking traitorously against the fat mushroom tip grazing your entrance. Making a mess of precum down below.

“S’alright, pretty.” he groans, sandwiching his cock between your puffy folds. “Because you just have to sit there n’ ngh- take- it.”

If you thought that Satoru was broken before then he was absolutely ruined now. 

Because there was no reason or rhythm to his actions now - just mindless, feral movements to milk his cock as much as he physically could on your pussy. Running only on pure need and the thought of you round and so full with his kid. 

“Ah!” you’re startled out of your reverie by something wet. Whirling sluggishly to catch the tears of overstimulation brimming at Satoru’s heavy eyes - shit, you wondered if he even knew what he was doing at this point. “T-Toru…you- ngh- o-okay?”

The only response you get is an unsteady nod. 

“-the best.” he whispers, twitching balls squeezing so painfully with each slap against your ass. Faster. Absolutely soaked with the sinful concoction of your juices and his cum. “We’ll be the best parents- ngh-” And fuck it was so much - too much. Too good. Painful pleasure.

Enough that all it takes is another, sloppy thrust before he’s seeing stars behind his eyes again. Cock twitching wildly inside your cunt as Satoru shoots load after load of cum to paint your pussy white. 

So warm with his cum - him - that Satoru’s body moves before his mind. Pooling the mess down below to nudge back into your cunt. “C’mon, pretty, c-can’t get ngh pregnant if ya don’t oh- cum.”

And it’s so embarrassing how that’’s all it takes for you to reach your high with a strained, barely audible moan. Voice shot, your own orgasm nothing but a few tingles that have your thighs fucking back into Satoru’s. 

“Satoru- Satoru Satoru Satoru.” you mewl, big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Birds of a feather, they say. 

Hypnotized. Drunk off the feeling.

And, evidently, Satoru was, too. 

“Pretty…” his voice rings in your ear. Tinged with a tone you know didn’t bode well for you - or your poor, overfilled cunt. Bloated and dribbling already. “Are- sure- ngh-” 

And with a jolt, you realize he’s still moving. Still pushing and pulling in languid, slow strokes. Thighs shaking as the fatigue wears on him. 

If anyone saw Satoru like this, they’d have a heart attack. Flushed your favorite shade of pink, the lower half of his body well covered with a sheen of your obscenities. Eyes teary with sensitivity, cock still twitching and so angry as he clears his throat and tries again, “Are we- hah- sure it took?”

“Wh-what-” you gasp, breathing in big, deep inhales. “Yes- yes yes- oh my god it’won’t-”

“It will.” Satoru’s interruption almost comes out as a whine. And he’s more sluggish, dazed when he flips you over onto your back again - not too difficult, with the way you were practically splayed out already. “Th-this pussy is made to take it, right? T-to be bred by me?”

It’s almost like Satoru was begging for confirmation, plugging back in the excess of what was leaking out of your abused pussy. It was spreading in a lewd little pool now, seeping into the non-existent space between you two.

But oh how Satoru loved it. Couldn’t tear his eyes off of it, in fact as he noses at your neck. Barely even thrusting anymore, just raw grinds, “Right? Gotta make sure- ngh- heir. Oh-”

He’s darting his tongue out to lick at the beads of tears streaming down your cheek. The salty taste on his tongue having Satoru’s hips stuttering forwards. Again. And again - alternating, not on purpose - between hitting your cervix and that bruised g-spot. “Gonna give me an heir? Ohhh fuck fuck fuck- lemme breed this cunt?”

You’re using up every bit of energy left in your body to give that slow, shallow nod. Which is all the time it takes for the pool to spread even wider. For Satoru’s fingers to stumble their way back to play with your clit. 

Rolling his thumb over in a harsh, uncalculated pattern - if you could even call it that, just jerky, obscene movements to get you off. 

And it works. Hell, the two of you are barely in the state of mind to even feel it. But he’s finally cumming again, and so are you. 

“Ngh- Fuck-”

With a loud, pained cry Satoru tightens his grip on your body like a vice. Raw, sensitive, overusing his cock until it felt so empty. Until you felt so bloated it was like you could explode - or maybe that was your own orgasm. “Toru- c-cumming.”

You’re not sure, anymore. And you don’t know if either of you could bring yourselves to care at this moment, not when your eyelids grow heavy. Vision tinging with black in the corners, and the only thing you could see was your husbands face - sweaty, eyes almost closed, kiss-bitten lips moving in a soundless whisper.  “-the best- momma.”

A/N. CLAN LEADER GOJO SAVE MEE. Oh yeah the “can’t get pregnant without the momma cumming” bit was based on this old tale I’d heard where people used to gen believe that. 

Plagiarism not authorized.