#more of the guy for those who like him a lot

[khorneschosen]

You're asking to have an argument about Trump's previous term to this one.

When it's quite clear the issue is about which side has the most empathy, common sense, and tolerance.

And when it comes to common sense y'all have none common sense belongs to a philosophy that you no longer practice or believe in.

It's a bumpkin version of rationalism, which Marxist outright deny the existence of. So you guys don't have common sense because you guys aren't rationalist or for that matter rational. Hence why existentialism formed as a reaction to the fact that the prophecy of Marx never came to fruition.

The masses and the proletarian never revolted on mass capitalism didn't become one giant monopoly nor is it really in danger of ever becoming a monopoly where the state is not involved.

What's more the standard living and wealth of the people living under capitalism or even quasi or broken capitalism are still doing better than all the people states of the world Even when those people states have access to a great deal of resources from the rest of the world.

This is by the way why market socialism is the big new hot push, what they really should call it however is modern Chinese socialism.

And however has the exact same problems of a socialist government with fewer tools to be able to deal with it. It's basically the state controls you and you control the factories but we control you so we control the factories anyway. Which is remarkably how national socialism works, you know it as fascism.

And then when it comes to empathy you guys have what can only really be described as transactional collective empathy. If a person or a group does what you say you have a great deal of empathy for them so much so that you'll let them get away with anything however if any member of that group goes against you or is even really just neutral and a way that you can't abide, even a small way you have no empathy for them.

And we've seen that when it comes to cishet white men for a while, and Asians and Jews recently, and even more recently Arabs and Hispanics who do not vote Democrat.

What I'm really describing here is just an in-group preference based on political or philosophical lines, But even then it's more based around whether or not that particular group is useful to you. Because despite everything destiny is one of your guys and y'all treat him like shit, because at times he dares to challenge you guys on some of your worst excesses and on your own terms. In a way that you simply cannot ignore. You can't rightly call him a conservative because the evidence of your own eyes and mind do not allow you to.

This too by the way goes for tolerance, The one axiom that you seem to have in group and outgroup preferences for being your politics and how useful someone is to the cause, you have no tolerance for it.

Meanwhile conservatives come from various different areas of influence. The Protestant and Catholics have long had their doctrine changed to better meet and work with reality. The capitalists are hard realists to the point of irrational pragmatism at times. And the nationalists are operating on a very old form of your system but they do it just for the people within their own nation. Which is just demanding that the benefactors be within their national boundaries.

Oh and liberals have a strong philosophical tradition that goes back to the enlightenment. Of course I mean classical liberals rather than communist calling themselves liberal because it's a lot easier than calling themselves a communist.

So as far as logic goes they're nowhere near as bad.

And as for empathy they are by definition conservatives they are being challenged and at every point of the challenge they have allowed you to challenge them in ways that they frankly shouldn't have. That their own code would have allowed them to crush you at any point and yet refuse to out of empathy intolerance for your kind.

And we're talking collectively right we're not talking about individual examples because if that's the case we'll be here all night but in the broadest strokes conservatives do have empathy tolerance and they're far more logical. I mean even scientific studies have shown that they have more risk assessment which you define is fear for the sake of your propaganda but really it's just risk assessment. Which one we're dealing with the country that is the leader of the free world and if its economy goes tits up, will destroy the free world and an economic collapse from which it will never recover from I don't say that fear or risk assessment is misplaced.

Like baseline conservative is infinitely more rational. Baseline libertarian is infinitely more rational because they at least acknowledge the reality of economics or culture. Y'all routinely ignore the risks or even cost of your actions and policies and ideologically do not believe in rationality.

So yeah leftist and I do mean leftist are less rational, less empathetic and less tolerant.

Also if you want me to get to your second question reword it a little bit, it's confusing how it's currently written.

[stellocchia]

The way people act like Scott is such an awful teammate for wanting Pearl to apologize to Gem just shows me that a lot of people will just do anything to demonize him without trying to understand jack shit.

So, guys, I'll spell it out:

SCOTT ISN'T GOOD AT PVP OR TRAPS

He can't rely on those skills, and yet he always makes it really far into the series. Ever wondered why? Because he excels at the social game. He knows how to stay friendly with people.

That's how he keeps himself alive.

It goes without saying that the only way he knows how to keep his allies safe as well (aside from sacrificing himself for them) is to keep them in everyone's good graces. That is most likely why he's been trying (and succeed) to smooth things over between Gem and Pearl. It isn't betrayal, it isn't a matter of him siding with Gem, or liking her more than Pearl (weirdchamp kind of assumption to make that last one, we literally don't know them), it's just the only way he knows how to keep Pearl alive. And considering how much she's been dying this season, I understand why he's prioritizing her over Impulse.

Add to that the fact that Gem is also good at the social game AND she's great at PvP AND in an alliance with someone who always hates Scott's gut in literally every season, is also good at PvP and is extremely volatile, and yeah. They're not good enemies to have. Especially not so early on. We're still on episode 4 and Gem and Joel are still dark green, this is the time to befriend them so the Final Girls won't be the first people they turn on when they drop to red.

Also, just saying, but if Scott didn't care for Pearl he wouldn't have offered to give her a life as soon as she turns red.

[arnivold]

Having played Emmrich's romance from start to finish I can say it does a shockingly good job of realistically portraying a romance with a significant age gap, speaking from experience as someone who once dated a guy in his fifties while I was in my twenties

Spoilers under the cut

So when you first start flirting with Emmrich, he doesn't assume you're being serious or doesn't even register it as flirting. Then he realizes what's going on and plays along with it. Then he starts flirting back, and uh oh we both acknowledged there's chemistry and now we have to figure out what we're gonna do with it.

Then you start dating. Or at least you're sorta dating. And your friends notice what's going on and immediately they voice their concerns. Are you sure this is a good idea? Happy for you but do you think maybe you're going a little too fast? Does the older person have bad intentions here? These are all questions the companions and even Hezenkoss ask in banter when you start the romance with Emmrich

And yeah when you first start dating someone new these questions don't seem to matter cause you're in love. You're charmed by Emmrich's gentlemanly ways, Emmrich likes the feeling of having a young person show interest in him because it makes him feel younger so he doesn't have to grapple with his mortality

But then as shit gets more and more serious and you near the end of Act 2, Emmrich wants to have a genuine discussion with you about the relationship. He's concerned that maybe this isn't such a good idea after all, because even though you both have the best of intentions, eventually you will have to deal with losing him and it will be decades before you have to worry about your own death.

And you have to ask yourself, is this serious or not? How are we gonna introduce each other to our families? Are you prepared to care for a sick/elderly spouse in your 40s and 50s? If you want to have children, are you prepared to handle having a partner who is already a generation apart from you and old enough to be your children's grandparent? How will it look when an older person in a teaching position is dating someone the same age as their students?

And for a lot of people these are serious obstacles to having a serious long term relationship! And discussions like that often do end in a fight like it does in Emmrich's romance! It happened to me in my relationship with an older man, too! It didn't work for me in my specific case but some people are able to work that stuff out, and in the case of Rook and Emmrich, they eventually do. But those are important discussions to have when you enter that kind of relationship

Idk man, the whole time I was romancing him I kept hearing the same comments my friends and family made about my relationship, the same arguments and discussions we had about the logistics of that kind of relationship, etc. etc. I figured they were just gonna go the route of indulgent wish fulfilment, and I was left slack-jawed when the game actually delves into the realities of dating in age gaps that large

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 5/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [in this chapter: slight dubcon/cnc (?), virginity loss, riding, switch! toji, sort of dom!reader, pussy drunk toji, kind of wholesome, whole lot of yapping], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: two chapters a day, who is this diva !!? nah i had this around and i could not help but post it today. it will either mean you all binge read it, or you all completely forget that either chapter has been posted. curse this damn algo! or maybe i am just overenthusiastically posting. but gaaahhhh!! can't believe we are at the end </3 !! thank you thank you THANK YOU !! for the love, i'm so beyond grateful. thank you for letting va toji and smut writer reader in your dashboards and following them along on their stupid meet-cute journey <3 and, please don't be mad about the epilogue, i SWEAR megumi is not like other guys [he is just like his dad...]. also, if you're confused about the ending, PLEASE!! read persephone. it's not as emotional and funny as this one, but...read it so that you could make sense of the plot? IDKKK. or don't i think it's pretty self-explanatory. but in all honesty, the freaky scene was really difficult to write in this chapter, and i really apologise if it seems..."anti-climatic" or a "letdown" or "not smutty enough" :") it's a lot more yapping and emotion based, not something i do often but i sorta liked writing it? i don't know, sometimes you should take a break from the dirty talk and just talk to yourself...eugh what am i saying, anyways! please, enjoy. and let me know how you liked this - comments, reblogs - i'm spying on them all  

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

your phone buzzes quietly on the nightstand, and you reach over, still half-buried in blankets, to check the message. toji grumbles beside you, wrapping an arm lazily around your waist, pulling you right back to him. “don’t even think about leaving this bed,” he mumbles against your shoulder, voice rough with sleep.

you squint at your screen, smiling as shoko’s name lights up with a string of texts.

shoko: mission successful. megumi has been delivered to the institution of learning. shoko: also, fyi, we're stealing the limo for the dayshoko: and no, we won’t be back until we’re legally obligated. don’t worry, we’ll keep gojo under control… mostly shoko: enjoy your alone time, lovebirds 😘

you chuckle, typing back a quick reply.

you: thank you, dearest shoko. keep gojo from being arrested plz 😭 you: we really do appreciate it, but just know i have zero faith in ur ability to contain gojo, lol shoko: fair enough, neither do i

toji tightens his hold around you, grumbling, “what’s so funny? thought you were all mine this morning.”

you turn, placing your phone on the nightstand as you nestle back against him. “just shoko. apparently, she, gojo, and geto did drop megumi off at school. in the limo.”

toji lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “bet those teachers are loving that.”

“oh, absolutely. i’m sure gojo made it a whole production, too.” you laugh, imagining the scene — a horrified teacher watching the three self-proclaimed “cool” adults proudly unloading an amused, completely willing megumi from the limo like he’s some kind of celebrity.

toji’s hand slides up your back, sending a warm shiver down your spine. “good,” he murmurs, a lazy smirk on his face. “means we’ve got all day.”

you bite back a grin. “is that so, mr. fushiguro?”

“damn right, mrs. fushiguro,” he whispers, and there’s that flutter in your chest again. 

mrs. fushiguro — it’s still so new, so surreal. you lean into his touch, feeling that warmth radiate from him, that steady presence that’s been with you for so long, but now, somehow, feels even closer.

“god, that sounds… i don’t know. just amazing,” you murmur, voice almost shy. “it’s crazy how much changes when we’re just… us.”

he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead, and it’s so soft, so tender, it’s enough to make your heart do another flip. 

“yeah? feelin’ all mushy on me now, are ya?” he teases, smirking down at you, but his voice is so soft, so genuine.

“maybe i am,” you admit, tracing small circles on his chest with your finger. “just… thinking about how lucky i am. how lucky we are. you… me… and megumi.” the last part brings a smile to your lips, the idea of the three of you, a real family, settled and safe and happy.

toji’s eyes soften, and he leans in to kiss you, slow and warm. “trust me, i’m the lucky one,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to cradle your face as he gazes at you. “i’ve got you, i’ve got ‘gumi… i got everything i need right here.”

you look away for a second, laughing softly to hide how much his words make your heart ache in the best way. “if anyone heard you right now, they’d never believe the tough guy act you put on.”

“hey, don’t go spreading rumors,” he warns, but his smile gives him away. “only you get to see me like this.” his fingers stroke along your cheek as he adds, “my best side.”

you look up at him, a rush of affection filling your chest so full you feel it might burst. “i just… i feel like the luckiest person alive. like… what did i do to end up here with you?”

“you didn’t have to do anything, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “just had to be you.”

you both settle into a comfortable silence, his hand finding yours under the covers, fingers interlacing. there’s something so perfect, so still about this moment — just lying together, his thumb brushing idly over your knuckles. the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart — it’s like every worry, every noise from the world fades away, leaving just the two of you cocooned here in the quiet, the morning sun filtering softly through the curtains.

you close your eyes, sighing contentedly. “i could stay like this forever, you know.”

he chuckles, pulling you closer. “good. ‘cause i’m not lettin’ you go anywhere.”

you’re just basking in the warm silence, feeling utterly at peace, when toji leans in, his voice low and smooth in your ear. "so, mrs. fushiguro,” he drawls, a smirk creeping onto his lips, “wasn’t there talk of a… private reading of that dragon king sequel?”

oh, no. 

oh, no. 

you blink at him, trying to keep a straight face. 

this man is absolutely trying to get in your pants with literature. 

who does that? well, toji does, apparently. and damn him for knowing you’d promised him a private reading of that particular book launch. a foolish vow you made months ago, when you didn’t think he’d actually remember. 

but, of course, he remembers everything.

“i… um,” you stammer, your cheeks heating. “that was — okay, that was months ago, toji. i didn’t think you’d actually —”

“you didn’t think i’d remember?” he grins, and it’s the kind of grin that tells you you’re not getting out of this. “i remember everything, sweetheart. especially when it involves… let’s say, romantic storytelling?”

romantic storytelling, huh? right. 

sure. that’s one way to put it.

“toji, it’s not just, you know, romantic storytelling,” you mutter, cheeks warming even more. “i mean, it’s got… dragons. and quests. and —”

“oh, i remember chapter twenty just fine,” he cuts in, that cheeky smirk now completely in control of the situation. he leans closer, his face inches from yours, all smug and mischievous. 

“you know, the one where the dragon king finds his queen and… gives her a real good ‘welcome’?”

your mouth goes dry. 

this absolute menace. he’s got the audacity to remember chapter twenty?

“oh, you mean the ‘epic battle scene,’ right?” you try, feigning innocence. “where they’re fighting for the fate of the kingdom, and it’s super dramatic, lots of… explosions, you know?”

he laughs, low and deep, and god, it’s unfair how sexy he makes laughing sound. “sure, if you’re talking about the fireworks when the dragon king finally, you know…” he raises an eyebrow. 

“claims his queen.”

you are done for. 

“toji —” you start, but he’s already pushing himself up, reaching over to grab a copy of your book from the nightstand. you mentally curse past you for being sentimental enough to keep a copy so close by.

“here we go,” he says, flipping through the pages, and damn it, he’s really going for it. “right to chapter twenty. ah… here. listen to this, babe.” he clears his throat dramatically, as if he’s about to perform the damn shakespearean sonnet of the year. 

“the dragon king leaned in, his voice a whisper like embers in the dark, promising the queen his undying loyalty, his soul, his fire —”

“toji,” you hiss, trying not to laugh because this is utterly ridiculous. but also kind of the most endearing thing he’s ever done.

“— and his lips claimed hers with the kind of passion only a dragon king possessed,” he continues, absolutely deadpan. 

his eyes flicker up to yours, and the next thing you know, he’s leaning in, his mouth soft against yours, playful, slow. “see?” he murmurs against your lips, teasing. “it’s right there in the text.”

you barely hold back a giggle. “toji fushiguro, you are not… using my own book to seduce me.”

he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth. “oh, sweetheart. i absolutely am. and i’m pretty sure you’re enjoying it, too.” his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer, and damn it, you are enjoying this.

“this is absurd,” you mutter, though your words lose their conviction as he trails kisses down your neck, each one soft and teasing. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculous,” he murmurs between kisses, “for my beautiful wife who writes… excellent dragon king romances? definitely.” he pauses, looking up at you with that glint in his eyes that you know spells trouble. 

“and don’t act like you don’t find it hot, mrs. fushiguro. we both know that’s a lie.”

you groan, flopping back against the pillows. “why did i write chapter twenty like that? i’ve doomed myself.”

he raises an eyebrow, that smirk even more devilish. “hey, i’m just a fan, enjoying a private reading,” he says, leaning back in to brush his lips against yours, soft and gentle at first, but deepening, his hand cupping your cheek in that way that drives you crazy. 

“go on,” he whispers, voice low, “read for me.”

your heart’s pounding now, every nerve in your body alive with the feel of him so close, his eyes warm and mischievous and so damn loving. 

you swallow, taking a steadying breath, and somehow, miraculously, you manage to open the book and start reading in a low, slightly shaky voice.

“the dragon king wrapped his arms around her,” you read, feeling your voice hitch as toji’s fingers trace little patterns along your arm, sending shivers through you, “his breath warm against her ear, promising her… his devotion. his soul. his fire.”

“mmm,” toji murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “keep going. this is getting good.”

you continue, barely able to concentrate because he’s absolutely enjoying every second of this. 

“and as his lips met hers, it was like… like an explosion of heat, consuming them both in a moment so intense it could… melt worlds.” you swallow, feeling his hand slide around your waist, his face close to yours, his gaze dark with desire.

“you know, i think your writing really captures the, uh, tension here,” he teases, his voice a rough whisper against your ear.

“you’re impossible,” you say, laughing despite yourself as he pulls you back down onto the bed, his kisses now less playful, more earnest, his hand finding yours, fingers interlacing like they belong there.

“impossibly in love with my talented, beautiful wife,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips soft and warm. “the one who just happens to write the best damn dragon romances out there.”

you let out a breathless laugh, burying your face in his shoulder. “if my readers could see this right now, they’d probably riot.”

he chuckles, pulling you close, his hand running through your hair. “well, they don’t get this version of you. that’s all mine.”

you look up at him, heart swelling with so much love you feel you might burst. “yeah?” you murmur, feeling your voice go soft, your hand reaching up to trace his jawline.

“yeah,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes you forget the whole world, until there’s just him, just you, just the two of you tangled together in this little piece of forever.

you’re deep in the moment, hands tangled around toji’s neck, your heart racing, and then thump! — your hardcover book smacks him right on the back of his head. 

you freeze, horrified, but toji just blinks, a slow grin spreading across his face. where you see a mood-killer, he sees a grand opportunity.

“well, well,” he says, rubbing the spot with exaggerated drama, “guess the dragon king’s under attack.” 

then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he reaches down, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “only one way to counter this… surprise assault.”

before you can say a word, he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing that ridiculous six — or is it eight? — pack of his. you lose count every time. the man’s a walking anatomy lesson.

he leans back against the pillows, arms casually behind his head like he’s just some unassuming king lounging in his castle. 

“so,” he drawls, raising an eyebrow, “don’t you think it’s only fair for ‘equality’ reasons that you join me in my… wardrobe adjustments?”

you stare at him, knowing exactly what he’s doing, but still, the smirk on his face is impossible to resist. 

“oh, ‘equality,’ huh?” you laugh, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “you’re seriously using that excuse?”

“hey,” he says with an innocent shrug, though that devilish grin gives him away. “you hit me on the head. you owe me. this is… reparations.”

“reparations?” you raise an eyebrow, feigning disbelief as you fiddle with the book, stalling, though your heart’s racing. “i think you just want me out of my shirt.”

“yeah, obviously.” his eyes sparkle, not an ounce of shame. “you’ve got the dragon king here, and he’s got a… well, let’s just call it a mighty thirst for, uh, ‘visual balance.’”

you laugh, shaking your head. “visual balance? you’re just making things up now!”

“come on,” he says, reaching out and gently tugging at the hem of your shirt with that smirk that melts you every time. “for equality. and… maybe chapter twenty accuracy?”

you try to hold in a laugh, failing miserably. “oh, now you’re committed to accuracy, are you?”

“absolutely.” he leans in, his eyes meeting yours, that smirk growing softer, somehow more sincere. “besides,” he murmurs, voice low, “i’m not about to let some book have all the fun of a private reading with you.”

his words send warmth straight to your chest, and you find yourself surrendering to his playfulness. slowly, you lift the hem of your shirt, and his gaze never leaves yours, following each movement with that quiet intensity that makes you feel like you’re the only thing in his world.

“happy now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow once the shirt is off and tossed to the side.

toji’s gaze trails over you, his smile widening. “mmm, much better,” he says, voice a low rumble. he reaches out, pulling you close until you’re practically lying on top of him, his hands resting lightly on your waist. 

“now,” he whispers, his breath warm against your cheek, “about that private reading…”

“you mean, before the book tries to knock you out again?” you say, laughing softly as he grins.

“nah,” he replies, pulling you closer, voice softer now. “i think i’d rather hear it from you… no books, no pages. just us.” his hand slides up your back, his touch so familiar, so gentle, and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore, just looking into his eyes, feeling like you’re in your own story, one that’s still being written.

“fine,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, his fingers brushing through your hair. “i’ll read to you, toji. but only if you promise…” you pause, smirking, “not to bring out any more ‘dragon king’ moves.”

he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “no promises,” he murmurs, voice warm and full of laughter.

you’re lost in the warmth of his embrace, melting into him as your lips meet, his hands firm on your waist, grounding you as you straddle him. skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeats syncing — it's everything a newlywed morning should be. but then… 

oh.

you feel it. 

that very… unignorable reminder pressing insistently against you, and the realization hits like a lightning bolt, your face heating up as if someone turned the thermostat up to a hundred. 

you swallow, suddenly very aware of the “problem” in question, and try your hardest to keep a straight face. 

it’s not like this is new or anything. toji’s your husband. this is normal. completely normal. all husbands feel like this for their wives, right? 

right.

but he’s… so unbothered. he doesn’t even hesitate, just keeps his hands on you, tracing slow circles along your back, his thumb brushing over your skin, his lips curling into a smirk like he knows exactly how much he’s affecting you. and maybe he does. 

of course he does.

“toji,” you manage to whisper, barely holding it together, but he’s already looking at you with that lazy, smug grin, like you’re his personal sunrise, and he’s basking in every single second. 

“you, uh… you sure you’re okay there?”

“me?” he raises an eyebrow, all innocence as he chuckles, his voice a warm, sleepy rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “i’m more than okay, sweetheart. just enjoying my beautiful wife on our first morning as mr. and mrs. fushiguro.” he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone that’s entirely too distracting. 

“besides,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin, “i think you’re the one who’s a little… flustered.”

flustered? you? 

“toji, you’ve got a —” you start, but he interrupts, grinning wickedly.

“a ‘normal human reaction’?” he teases, voice dropping to that smooth, low register that drives you crazy. “can’t help it when you’re this close. on top of me. looking like that.”

you cover your face with your hands, half-laughing, half-dying of embarrassment. “stop — oh my god, you’re insufferable.”

“and you love it,” he says, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. his eyes are soft, sincere, with a glint of mischief as he tilts his head. “what’s a husband supposed to do? just look at you? you make it real hard, y’know?”

he lets out a low laugh at your expression and then holds you tighter, his hands warm and steady on your waist. 

“guess we’re not getting out of bed for a while, huh?”

you’re not sure what’s come over you — maybe it’s the morning sunlight streaming in, soft and hazy; maybe it’s the devilish little voice in your head nudging you forward. 

but somehow, here you are, straddling your very, very surprised husband, taking matters (and his pants) into your own hands. 

and, well, let’s just say you got a little… ambitious.

before you even have time to think, you’re, um… fully committed. 

as in, no turning back. 

as in, you’re in.

toji’s eyes go wide, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s trying to catch up to what’s happening. his breath hitches, his head falling back against the pillow, and he lets out something between a sob and what might be a moan. 

his cheeks are flushed, his jaw tight, and for a second, he just stares up at you with a look that’s a mix of reverence and utter disbelief.

“you… y-you just… did you just — ?” he manages to stammer, the words catching in his throat, and suddenly, you’re the one who’s freaking out. 

the reality of what you just did hits like a freight train, and you’re not prepared.

“uh… yes?” you squeak, as if you’re also trying to convince yourself. a nervous laugh escapes you. “i mean… yeah. i just… i thought… y’know, we’re married now, so… spontaneity?”

toji’s lips press into a shaky smile, his fingers tightening on your waist. 

“spontaneity, huh?” he repeats, a breathless laugh bubbling up as he tries to process the situation. “damn, sweetheart, you really know how to keep a guy on his toes.”

your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly realize just how locked into this you are. 

no backing out now, not when you’re quite literally in the thick of it. 

“oh god,” you mutter, half to yourself. “did i just… did i seriously just yolo this?”

toji laughs, his thumb tracing comforting circles on your hip, his voice a little strained but warm as ever. “honestly? kind of the best ones of my life. but if you’re freaking out… we can take a breather.”

but there’s something in his gaze — something soft and genuine, with that signature spark of mischief — that steadies you a little. you take a breath, letting his presence calm your nerves. 

and then, with a shaky smile, you lean down, pressing your forehead to his.

“just… don’t move too fast, okay?” you whisper, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“you’re the boss, mrs. fushiguro,” he murmurs, voice low and tender, and he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you steady. “locked and loaded… best way to start the day.”

you try to summon every ounce of confidence your heroines have ever possessed — the boldness, the sass, the sheer conviction that they know exactly what they're doing. 

but here you are, completely frozen, caught somewhere between exhilaration and abject terror. 

your mind is racing, but your body? not so much. you can’t seem to move.

and to make matters worse, there’s a tiny part of you that’s panicking, the same part that has you wiggling slightly as you try to find any semblance of control. 

naturally, he notices, and, of course, he feels it, too.

toji’s eyes soften, his mouth curving into that warm, almost-too-perfect smile that always settles your nerves, and his hands move gently to your hips, steadying you with the barest of pressure. you’re not sure if he’s trying to keep you from falling apart or if he’s anchoring himself, too.

“hey,” he murmurs, voice warm and so steady it cuts through your internal chaos. “you don’t have to do anything, sweetheart. lemme take care of you.”

he tilts his head back to meet your eyes, and the softness in his gaze is almost enough to melt you. 

“besides,” he teases, a wicked little glint appearing in his eyes, “the last thing i want is you remembering this as the morning you freaked out on top of me. that wouldn’t be fair to you, or, honestly… to me.”

you manage a shaky laugh, trying to focus on him rather than the tangle of nerves twisting in your stomach. 

and maybe, just maybe, you can let go of your inner heroine pep talk just this once.

“okay…” you whisper, breath still catching, but there’s something in his touch that’s grounding you. “just… go slow?”

“yes ma’am.” his voice drops an octave, the promise of patience woven through every word, and his hands tighten just a little, guiding you with gentle confidence. he starts moving slowly, carefully, each motion more reassuring than the last. his thumb brushes your hip soothingly, grounding you.

“and remember,” he whispers, mouth brushing the corner of your mouth as he leans up, “i’m right here. always.”

you’re trying, really. 

but, for all the research you’ve put into this exact scenario, it’s like your mind’s blanking out on everything. 

front and back? sideways? or was it… circular? maybe up and down? 

why is it that the one time you desperately need a mental slideshow, all your research notes abandon you?

to make matters worse, toji’s expression isn’t exactly helping. he’s looking at you with this mix of sheer desperation and restraint, like he’s teetering on the edge of losing it or… combusting. 

maybe both.

“uh, toji,” you murmur, fingers trailing uncertainly on his chest as you try to read his reaction. “am i… doing this right?” you ask, half-joking, half-panicked, but mostly hoping for some kind of confirmation. or maybe a sign that you’re not about to ruin him.

toji’s eyes snap open a bit wider, and the sounds he makes are… well, hardly words. 

more like a strangled, garbled mess of syllables that could pass for something between a moan and a mutter. he opens his mouth to say something and then just clenches his jaw, exhaling a shaky breath.

“babe…” he finally chokes out, voice rough. “whatever you’re doing… just… give me a sec, okay?”

you stifle a laugh, watching as his hands are balled so tight at his sides that they’re nearly shaking. it’s like he’s holding himself together by sheer willpower alone. you swear his knuckles might actually be going white.

he lets out a huff, like he’s trying to recite a grocery list or remember anything that isn’t the feel of you on top of him. 

“satoru’s voice… that dumb soap commercial… yeah, yeah, there it is… ‘leaves you feeling fresh all day’... god help me,” he mutters under his breath.

“toji?” you can’t help it; you lean in, brushing your lips against his jaw as he swallows hard. 

“i think i’ve broken you.”

his head tips back, a strained laugh breaking through as he fights to keep his cool. 

“you… might just have,” he manages, voice rough around the edges, and there’s this flash of helplessness in his gaze that makes your heart skip.

“i’m doing that well, huh?” you smirk, feeling just the tiniest spark of confidence.

he groans, half in frustration, half in what sounds like pride. “yeah… yeah, you are,” he grits out. 

“and if you move… in literally any direction right now, i’m not sure how much longer i can hold back.”

you take a moment to consider, still a little nervous, but now definitely encouraged by the effect you seem to be having on him. 

“well,” you whisper, “you’re my husband now. i think that means we can both… figure this out together.”

he looks up at you, that steady, determined look in his eyes, as he exhales another shaky breath. 

“then let’s figure it out,” he murmurs, voice softer now, but still brimming with that intensity.

his hands finally settle on your hips, steadying you as he starts guiding you slowly, deliberately, and the careful rhythm he sets feels like it’s easing all that tension out of both of you.

“god… toji,” you murmur, feeling every little shift and movement as he keeps you close, never rushing, always guiding.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he says, his tone softening as he takes his time with you. “we’ve got all the time in the world.”

while toji is supposedly the one who should have all the experience here, somehow you’re the one taking charge — leading the pace, finding a rhythm, and honestly, feeling a little like some overconfident cowgirl until you remember, oh right, this is toji fushiguro, not some wild bronco.

okay, maybe ease up on the cowgirl image, you mentally scold yourself, trying to stay focused. 

but that confidence you’re feeling? it’s dangerous. because just as you settle into this boldness, feeling like you’ve got things under control, toji lets out a whimper.

your eyes fly open, heart practically stopping in your chest. 

oh no. 

was that a sound of pain? 

did you somehow… break him? 

wait, is it even possible to damage internal organs like this? 

“toji…?” you ask, almost scared to hear the answer.

he lifts his head a little, looking dazed and half-lost, his breathing heavy, eyes hazy with disbelief as he mutters, 

“y-you’re…” he doesn’t even finish, just closes his eyes, head falling back as another broken whimper slips out. 

and then it hits you.

oh.

“you… you like this?” you ask, almost stunned. the idea that you’re the one making him sound like that? 

the thought is so potent it makes you feel a rush of something warm and… yeah, okay, powerful.

he’s barely able to respond, his hands gripping your hips now, knuckles white as he nods, lips parted in another helpless gasp as he tries and fails to keep his cool. 

“don’t… stop,” he finally chokes out, like he’s barely hanging on.

“oh, trust me, i’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, heart racing. and now there’s this little thrill lighting you up from the inside out, because every tiny movement is pulling more helpless little sounds from him, his restraint finally slipping.

toji’s voice is so rough, barely holding it together as he grits out, “you’re killing me, sweetheart… god…”

“well,” you manage, barely keeping your own composure, “it’s only fair, right? after all the times you’ve done this to me?”

he lets out another shaky exhale, clearly struggling, and for a second you’re genuinely worried he might just combust completely. 

“y-you really think… you’re doing me in, huh?”

you raise a brow, smirking despite yourself. “you sound like you’re the one struggling here.”

he laughs breathlessly, like he can hardly believe it, before he pulls you close, one hand cupping the back of your neck. 

“struggling?” he murmurs, his voice low and full of promise. “i’m just letting you have your fun before i flip us over and show you exactly who’s in charge here.”

your heart does a somersault. because the thrill of this playful push and pull, of seeing him finally lose control? 

that’s the best way to start any morning.

toji’s brain is on a full-blown rollercoaster right now, and not in the way he’d imagined. 

he’d thought he’d be calm, collected, the man in control, ready to take his time with you and make this morning something sweet and a little filthy, just like you’d always hinted at. 

he’d be the one setting the scene, the one doing all the work, the one guiding you gently, like he’d dreamed about doing ever since you let him in on that side of your writing.

he even had a whole monologue rehearsed in his head last night: “to my parents, my friends, and any god who’s listening, thank you for giving me this beautiful woman to love, a girl with fire in her veins and creativity for days.” 

he’d planned on simple, soft kisses, with lots of praise to make you feel adored, even throw in a little dirty talk, just like in your books. 

he’d thought about quoting a line or two back at you for fun — maybe one from that chapter you wrote where the dragon king says, “you’re all mine tonight, and you’ll feel every inch of me, i promise.”

but now? 

all that’s gone out the window, because here you are, on top of him, taking the lead with confidence, and he’s losing his mind. 

every time he tries to open his mouth, all he can get out is a strangled groan, and it’s doing something to him he wasn’t expecting. 

he can barely recognize himself; the words he’d so carefully picked out are just… gone. every time you shift, it’s like his thoughts scatter to the wind, replaced by pure, helpless need.

he wants to tell you, wants to let you know how much he loves this, loves you, how insane you’re driving him, but all that comes out is a barely-coherent mess of sounds, and it hits him that you’re not just in control of his body — you’ve completely stolen his mind, too.

“i… god, i thought i was supposed to be the one teaching you…” he finally manages to whisper, half in awe, half in defeat.

you smirk, that little gleam in your eye sending a shiver down his spine. “thought you liked a surprise every now and then?”

and all he can do is nod, a dazed look in his eyes. 

because in this moment, he realizes he’d gladly give up every carefully planned word, every practiced move, just to feel like this forever: utterly and completely wrapped around your finger, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

the second toji feels your movements stutter, that telltale shiver coursing through you, he knows exactly what’s happening. 

and oh, he’s not about to let you handle all that on your own. 

in one smooth, effortless motion, he flips you onto your back, settling himself on top of you with a grin that’s downright devilish. his muscles flex as he moves, every bit of that gym routine paying off in real time.

“thought i’d take over, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and husky, his words wrapping around you like velvet. “just… seemed like you could use a little help.”

you meet his gaze, already breathless, but the excitement bubbling inside you is impossible to ignore. 

“oh, you’re taking over now?” you tease, your hands resting on his strong shoulders, gripping tight, letting him feel the way your fingers tremble slightly. "go on then, show me what you got."

his eyes darken, and the heat between you intensifies as he lowers himself, pressing a line of kisses along your neck that makes your whole body tingle. 

"you don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with that rough, familiar affection, every word sending a thrill straight to your core.

with every frantic movement, every desperate thrust, he’s thoroughly reminding you that this is his world, and you’re just lucky to be living in it. 

the tension that had been building inside you starts winding tighter again, and you feel like you’re seconds away from cumming. every nerve is on fire, and his name escapes your lips like a prayer, like you’re as completely lost in him as he is in you.

“that’s it, just like that,” he whispers, his tone full of encouragement, his breath warm against your ear. “i want you to feel everything, sweetheart.”

and with the way he’s moving, with the heat and the energy building between you, you don’t doubt for a second that he’s going to make good on that promise.

you're clinging to him, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, arms tangled around his neck like you’re in some intense love-drunk wrestling hold, and you’re this close, teetering on the edge. 

you have no idea what to do with all that emotion bubbling up inside — are you supposed to say something? shout something? last time, when he went down on you, you practically screeched, and that memory alone is enough to make you blush in embarrassment. 

but, you’re different now, classier, you tell yourself. 

totally changed. 

so instead, you lean up, press your lips to his ear, and let out a quiet, garbled, “i love you.”

toji goes still for a fraction of a second — barely a heartbeat — but it’s long enough for you to feel it: he wasn’t ready for that. it’s a sneak attack, and you see his face shift, his eyes going wide for just a moment before the heat in them intensifies, pure, raw emotion flooding in. you feel his whole body respond to those three words, and just as you think yes, i’ve got him, you realize he’s already cumming. 

finished, before he even had a chance to let out a coherent response. he’s so stunned that he just mutters, “fuck,” breathless and hoarse, the word barely forming on his lips.

you can’t help but laugh, voice filled with a mix of triumph and disbelief. “wow, that got you, huh?” you tease, brushing a hand through his hair, feeling all the tension melt from his body as he tries to catch his breath. “and here you thought you had it all planned out.”

he huffs, pulling you even closer, his forehead resting against yours, that familiar smirk creeping back into place despite the flush on his cheeks. 

“never underestimate the power of a writer,” he murmurs, voice deep and warm. “especially when her words pack one hell of a punch.”

and you grin, sinking into the feeling of having completely swept him off his feet, knowing full well he wouldn’t want it any other way.

toji’s lying there in post-bliss, still catching his breath, when it hits him harder than any of gojo’s early-morning, glass-shattering shrieks: he just took his wife’s v-card. 

he’s your first. 

and then it all unravels, one chaotic revelation after another — he just came inside you. 

came inside you. 

and wait, oh hell, were you even on any contraception?

his eyes widen in a near-panic, and he can feel his pulse skyrocketing again, but this time it’s not from excitement. 

he remembers how much you love kids — yeah, kids. specifically, one kid. megumi. did you two even talk about adding more to that tally?

“uh, babe…” he starts, pulling away as gently as possible. he ignores the mess and all sense of grace as he practically scrambles to his feet, hurriedly grabbing the first thing he can to clean you up, which turns out to be some spare tissues by the bed.

you blink up at him, a bit dazed but smiling, that look of total contentment on your face. but it just makes him panic more.

“are… are you okay?” he asks, voice a bit too frantic. he’s cleaning you up with a gentleness that feels oddly out of character, his hands trembling just slightly as he checks you over, his fingers brushing your cheek, your arm, like he’s making sure you’re really, truly okay. “do you feel… i dunno, uh… like, rested? like, you’re good, right? not too sore?”

you let out a soft laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek. “i’m fine, toji. actually, i’m more than fine,” you say, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone, and his heart does that stupid skip thing again. he can’t let himself get sidetracked, though.

“oh, that’s good — really good.” he nods, grabbing the water bottle that’s somehow on his nightstand, a red iron man one. “here, drink this.” he uncaps it, nudging it toward your lips. “hydrate and all.”

you stare at the bottle for a second, blinking. 

“is that… ‘gumi’s iron man bottle?”

“i don’t know, and i don’t care right now. just drink,” he says, pushing it toward you with a kind of determination, and you obediently take a few sips, though you’re clearly trying not to laugh.

after a few swallows, you pull back, wiping your lips. “toji, relax. you’re the one who told me to trust you, right?”

he’s rubbing the back of his neck now, a bit embarrassed but mostly still caught up in his thoughts. “yeah, well, i didn’t think that…” he trails off, looking at the mess on the sheets with an almost horrified expression. 

“i just… we didn’t talk about… kids.”

you tilt your head, giving him a soft look. “toji, do you want kids?”

he runs a hand through his hair, that panic settling into something softer. “i mean, i’m good with megs, y’know? he’s… he’s all i need, but… it’s not like i’d be against it.” he shifts, the vulnerability clear in his eyes. “just… wanted to make sure that’s what you wanted, too.”

you reach for his hand, pulling him back down beside you, a reassuring smile on your face. “we can figure that out together. maybe we don’t know everything yet, but that’s okay. we’ve got time, don’t we?”

he lets out a sigh, relief flooding through him as he squeezes your hand. “yeah, yeah we do. i guess i just… never thought i’d get to do this. to be… a real family, with you.”

“toji,” you murmur, leaning in close, pressing your forehead to his. “you already gave me everything i could ever want. whether it’s just you and me, or us and megumi… or more.”

he lets out a chuckle, feeling lighter as he finally lets himself relax. “alright, alright. just don’t scare me like that, okay?” he mumbles, reaching for the blanket to cover you both up again. 

and as he lies back down beside you, he can’t help the soft smile that spreads across his face.

two years had flown by since that whirlwind of a wedding, and life with toji and megumi had settled into a heartwarming, beautifully chaotic rhythm. 

megumi, now ten , was in a phase where he’d scoff and roll his eyes at anything even remotely ‘ kiddish ,’ claiming he was far too mature for that stuff now.

but you’d caught glimpses of that little boy spark in him — a reminder that he hadn’t fully shed his innocence yet. 

like the time you’d spent an entire evening painstakingly building a lego dragon together, a complicated model that had you and toji squinting at the manual with a kind of warrior resolve.

where toji groaned, half-buried in tiny plastic pieces. “this better be the last one, kiddo, or your mama and i are gonna turn into dragons ourselves,” he muttered, piecing together the dragon’s intricate scales.

megumi tried to act indifferent, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “well, i don’t need it. dragons are kinda… whatever .”

but the moment the final piece snapped into place, his face lit up with such unguarded delight, and he stared at the completed dragon, almost in awe. 

“actually… it’s kinda cool,” he mumbled, tracing the wings with his finger.

and then there was the iron man phase. 

just last week, you had surprised him with a new iron man action figure — the latest model that even he, the ‘ oh-so-mature ’ ten-year-old, had been subtly eyeing. he’d accepted it with a feigned shrug, muttering something about it being ‘ okay ,’ but later you found him arranging his collection on his shelf with utmost care, placing iron man front and center.

today was a new milestone, though. suguru, ever the romantic, had finally invited his elusive business partner and the woman he was head over heels for: the famed mrs. ryomen , founder of persephone wines, accompanied by none other than her husband, ryomen sukuna . their wine brands were renowned globally, their rivalry and partnership like something out of a novel, and, unsurprisingly, satoru never shut up about how good the wines were.

the moment you laid eyes on her, you understood why suguru was so smitten. she was a vision of grace — calm, poised, with an elegance that felt both timeless and grounded. her wisdom was palpable, like she’d seen the world and learned from it, carrying that understanding effortlessly. 

and beside her was sukuna, a towering figure, his presence demanding attention without a single word. he wore his reputation as the industry’s most formidable businessman like a second skin, but there was a softness in his eyes whenever he glanced at his wife.

and trailing beside them, in her adorable little dress and with a wide, mischievous smile, was their five-year-old daughter, aiko. she looked exactly like her mother but had that unmistakable devious glint in her eyes — the unmistakable ryomen charm that came with a penchant for trouble.

aiko spotted megumi almost immediately, her eyes lighting up as she sized him up with that daring grin. without a second’s hesitation, she skipped over, standing tall in front of him as if ready for a duel. 

“you’re megumi, right?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

megumi nodded, looking slightly intimidated but also oddly impressed. “uh… yeah? ”

“my daddy says you’re gonna be tall like him someday,” she announced with a challenging gleam. “but i think i’ll still be cooler.”

toji, watching the exchange, chuckled, leaning down to you. “she’s got the ryomen spirit, alright. poor suguru, he’s in for a lifetime of keeping up.”

suguru, who had been watching from the sidelines, gave an almost weary smile. “don’t remind me. she’s just like her dad, which is… terrifying.”

over the course of the evening, satoru found every possible opportunity to rave about the wine, which led to a slightly tipsy serenade of praise to both persephone and ryomen wines. 

suguru shook his head, but you caught the faintest hint of pride in his eyes as satoru loudly professed, “the best wine on earth, right here! what did i do in my past life to deserve this ?”

“satoru, we get it,” shoko laughed, patting his shoulder. “but maybe save some of your poetic speeches for the actual wine reps?”

sukuna, stoic as ever, cracked the smallest smirk. “better listen to her, gojo, or next time you’re paying double for every bottle.”

at this, megumi tugged at your hand, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, “do you think they’re like… superheroes? like, fancy business ones? ”

you grinned, whispering back, “maybe, but the kind that save people’s sanity after long days with a good glass of wine.”

as the night wore on, aiko became bolder, challenging megumi to little games and teasing him whenever he pretended to be unimpressed. 

by the end, they were both racing around, megumi begrudgingly admitting that maybe having a ‘ little kid ’ around wasn’t the worst thing ever.

and you, watching your little found family and newfound friends all mingling, felt a sense of peace settle over you. life had changed so much, yet, with every piece that had fallen into place, it felt more complete than ever.

toji slid his hand into yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “so,” he murmured, nodding towards the crowd of laughing, chatting, slightly inebriated friends, “how’s forever treating you?”

you squeezed his hand back, leaning into his warmth. “with you? it’s perfect .”

— [epilogue] 

megumi adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat as he began his podcast. the familiar red recording light blinked on, and for a moment, he hesitated. 

but then, that cool, low voice of his rolled out — completely unaware of just how many listeners were tuned in because of that very voice.

“hey, everyone,” he started, with a slight, almost embarrassed laugh. “it’s megumi. welcome back to another episode. thanks for sticking around, i guess.” 

he took a deep breath, leaning into his usual deadpan humor. “today’s a little… special.”

eight years had passed, and megumi was now eighteen, on the verge of starting college. you never could have imagined that the quiet, reserved little boy who once scowled at anything that wasn’t cool enough would be sitting here, in gojo-sonic’s recording studio, with a podcast following that had skyrocketed in the last few months - his own little corner of the internet was a hit.

it was always a little surreal, hearing him speak like that — like an old pro — though megumi had no idea just how attractive his voice was. 

you’d caught snippets of his episodes in passing, and honestly, you were floored. it had that raw, emo, mysterious vibe that made his fans swoon. 

but megumi didn’t care much for that. he just liked talking. 

talking about whatever came to mind, whether it was the state of the world or random deep thoughts about dragons (which his viewers loved).

he paused for a second, then smirked. “so, apparently, it’s the anniversary of the sequel to my mama’s infamous ‘mating with the dragon king’ series, which is, uh…” he chuckled under his breath. “a title i try not to think too hard about, for my own sanity.”

he glanced at his notes, mentally preparing himself for the rest. “but it’s also my parents’ anniversary. they’ve been together a long time now, and honestly, i think they’ve aged pretty well… if not gotten weirder, too.”

"okay, so first things first," megumi continued, tapping his fingers against the mic like he was thinking. 

"i’ve been asked a lot recently — yeah, like a lot — about my parents. so, i thought today, i’d… well, talk about them. for those who don’t know, my mom and dad are basically the best couple on the planet." 

he paused for a moment, a rare smirk tugging at his lips. "and no, i’m not just saying that because they pay my college tuition," he added, voice dry, before laughing lightly. the subtle humor, that ever-present dry wit of his, had not been lost over the years.

“i’m serious, though,” megumi continued, his tone shifting slightly. “they’ve been married almost ten years now. ten years. that’s a long time, right? you know, the stuff i’ve seen them go through — good and bad — has honestly been like watching a rom-com… without the cheesy music. it’s real.”

he leaned back, grinning at the memory of his dad attempting to act cool when his mom gave him the anniversary gift she’d obviously poured her heart into, and how his dad pretended to brush it off while trying not to tear up. 

“i swear, my dad still thinks he’s the heartthrob he was in his youth… not that he’ll admit he ever thought that.”

a comment from the live chat caught his eye, and he read it aloud with a half-smile, “how are the lovebirds doing these days?”

“they’re… good,” he answered, a little softer, before laughing. “honestly, they’re like teenagers sometimes. last week, i caught them dancing to “dancing queen” in the kitchen at, like, two in the morning. my mama insisted they were ‘practicing their moves.’”

another comment rolled in: “is it true they started dating because of ‘mating with the dragon king’?”

megumi groaned, rubbing his forehead. 

“okay, so — yes, my mama’s… work may or may not have been involved in them getting together. which, by the way, is mortifying, but what can you do?”

he continued, “so yeah, every year, around this time, they go through the book again. they claim it’s just to, i don’t know, ‘relive the magic,’ or whatever. but personally, i think it’s just their excuse to laugh over the old cheesy lines and then get all sappy.” his voice softened, and you could hear the fondness there. “it’s… it’s cute, actually.”

as he sifted through more questions, a few regulars in the chat started asking about his dad’s influence on the podcast. 

“so… ‘like father, like son,’ huh?” he repeated aloud. “you all know my dad, toji fushiguro. he’s been a big reason i’m doing this at all. every week he tunes in and listens, usually making some snide comment about my ‘emo’ voice.” he chuckled. 

“but, like, he’s my biggest fan. it’s… weird. and kinda awesome.”

megumi leaned closer to the mic, as if sharing a secret. “sometimes he even gives me topic ideas, and he likes to pretend he’s all smooth about it. last week he was like, ‘hey, you ever think about doing an episode on… i don’t know, how to handle annoying old guys? just… putting it out there.’” 

megumi rolled his eyes. “yeah, thanks, dad.”

one listener asked, “so, are your parents tuning in today?”

megumi laughed. “oh, you better believe it. mama’s probably listening right now, making little notes about everything she’s going to tease me for later. and dad? he’s probably lounging around, acting all nonchalant, but hanging onto every word. he never says it, but… he’s proud. he just shows it in weird, dad ways.”

you, sitting in the living room across the house, smiled to yourself. you and toji hadn’t missed an episode of his podcast, even if megumi was often too cool to tell you exactly what he was talking about on-air. 

this was your son, the one who swore he'd never be like you two, now waxing poetic about your love life. you had to admit, it felt like a win.

you couldn't help but chuckle as you leaned over to toji, who was sprawled on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. “he doesn’t even realize how much he sounds like you.”

toji grinned, looking up from his phone. “i know. ’m proud, honestly. the kid’s got my voice, and he’s got a knack for talking like a damn pro.”

then, someone commented, “do they still do their anniversary dinner tradition?”

“yeah, every year without fail,” he said with a warm smile. “they go to this little bar where they first met. same table, same drinks….it’s a whole thing. and they always make sure to bring something dragon-themed as, like, an inside joke.”

“is it true you used to help pick out those dragon anniversary gifts?”

“uh, yeah, when i was a kid, i’d help out. it started with this silly little dragon keychain i got from a claw machine. my mama loved it, and dad pretended it was the best thing ever. and now… it’s just something they do. last year, we found this ridiculously tacky dragon-shaped candle holder. they loved it, of course.”

he paused, watching the flood of hearts and happy emojis on the screen. “honestly, seeing them still be so… them, even after all these years — it’s kinda awesome.”

as the comments continued to pour in, he couldn’t help but smile. “you know, when i was younger, i thought all of it was a little much. but now, i think… it’s cool. like, really cool, to have two people who just… get each other, and who make life fun. like, i might roll my eyes, but i wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

“anyway, that’s enough of the mushy stuff,” megumi added with a huff, trying to shake off the softness that had crept into his voice. “the point is, they’ve been together for a decade, and they still act like they’re in their honeymoon phase. but they’re both ridiculous, so whatever works, right?”

one final comment caught his eye: “do you ever think about finding a love like theirs?”

megumi laughed, leaning back in his chair. “i don't really know if I’ll ever be that kind of couple — that couple who looks at each other like it's just… meant to be. but honestly? i kinda hope i do. 'cause if that’s what they’ve got, i want it too. who knows?”

there was a beat of silence before megumi sighed, clearly awkward with what he’d just said. 

"alright, that’s enough of the sappy stuff. let’s move on to today's topic of… superhero movies."

the episode cut into a new segment, but not before you could hear megumi’s voice soften again.

“but if i do… you guys will be the first to hear about it. after all, i learned from the best.”

you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling an overwhelming swell of love for your son. despite all his protests, the way he spoke about you and toji just now? it was more than a little heartwarming.

“ten years, huh?” toji said softly, his voice carrying that familiar warmth. “you think we’ve gotten better with age, or are we just getting more ridiculous?”

you leaned your head on his shoulder, chuckling softly. “i’d say both. we’re definitely more ridiculous. but i’m pretty sure we’re still just as in love as we were on day one.”

toji smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

back in the recording room, megumi wrapped up the episode with his usual quiet flair, and just as he was about to sign off, he added, 

"to all the people listening out there — especially the ones who think i'm some kind of “emo, angsty mess” — you’re not wrong. but hey, thanks for sticking around. and shoutout to mama and dad… for being the real heroes of this fushiguro life.”

you heard the final click of the microphone turning off, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell once again, knowing that your little family, in all its weird, loving chaos, was exactly where it needed to be.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[nov4-rocket5]

You didn’t actually read Watchmen at all if you think that’s the conclusion he “wanted” readers to come to. The final words of it are, “I leave it entirely in your hands.” Literally telling the reader to come to their own conclusions on what happens next, who was right, and what it all meant. The outcome Moore thought would be best and what other readers thought would be best and how they all differ is a feature, not a bug.

He doesn’t even “side” with Veidt. The guy’s Superhero persona is literally named after a poem about all a man’s accomplishments crumbling to dust in the wind. Suppose there might have been a reason Moore picked that name in particular for a character?

Moore may be more blunt in his disliking of Rorschach now, but he’s also the only person who’s really worth liking, and the character who’s mindset and psychology are dug into the most out of Watchmen’s cast. And while Rorschach is indeed a very sympathetic and pitiable character, he’s also heavily flawed. FFS, the dude brushes off his idol sexually assaulting someone as a “moral lapse” because Rorschach projects his need for a strong father figure onto people like The Comedian or President Truman.

Speaking of Truman, Rorschach spends a lot of his journal praising the guy, particularly for dropping the atomic bombs for the greater good. But when Ozymandias makes a big convoluted space squid and drops it on a city for the same reason, Rorschach very quickly changes his tune. When Rorschach’s own logic and morality plays out in front of him and in his city, he can’t stand it and changes his tune.

Now, Truman and Veidt’s actions and circumstances aren’t exactly the same, but the comparison between Ozy and Truman is about the public moral argument from the government that people like Rorshach believes, which is that is was a bad thing that had to be done to prevent even more bloodshed. In the much more intense Cold War of Watchmen, Ozy's logic is exactly the same as Truman's, he killed some to save a lot more. Circumstances are different but the moral argument is the same.

But for all of Rorschach’s flaws and hypocrisy, it just makes him and his actions all the more interesting to dissect compared to the other characters Watchmen follows.

Daniel is a superhero because birds and airplanes are neat. Laurie's there because her mom said so. Jon's there because of the government. Eddie wants to kill minorities for the epic win lolz. Rorschach's there because he has been the victim and no one helped him. It's why he does what he does even when there seems little point and the act is ultimately futile.

And that status as a victim is why he's the only one with the guts to tell Adrian to piss off. Jon, Dan, and Laurie can dismiss the deaths of millions in the name of the greater good, but Walter Kovacs can't, because he is those people.

Consider who dies in the blast. It's the Bernies. The lesbian couple. The shitty part of New York where Walter lives. Mrs. Sharip (who reminded Walter of his mother) and her children are very likely killed by Adrian's actions. These are people that Walter Kovacs saw every single day and now they're dismissed as suitable foundations for Adrian's plans.

And hey, once the Cold War is over and the Russians back off, what's the stop Veidt Industries from going global?

Walter is different from all the other characters because he's not a "hero". He's the victim. Being a working class, illegitimate abuse survivor in instrumental to his every action as Rorschach.

TL;DR: No, Moore didn’t side with Ozymandias or Rorschach, he just told a story and left it up to the readers on what it all meant.

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[certifiedsexed]

hey there! i don’t mean this in bad faith at all, and i’m not trying to use a term that’s a fascist dogwhistle. i promise i’m just confused😭

so i’m not a guy, nor have i ever been perceived as one, but in one of your recent posts, you said that men can’t experience oppression solely based on the fact that they’re men. which was kind of confusing to me — i don’t think you’re wrong, i think it’s me but i don’t know how to get to how you see it like that.

because in my experience, men can experience oppression because they’re men, although i don’t know if i’m saying that right or conflating the meanings of certain terms. i’m probably wrong, and would just love some clarification?

for example, my brother and i were always held to different standards growing up — it was expected of me to always cry and be emotional, and i was a ‘stone cold bitch’ if that wasn’t the case, but if my brother wanted to show negative emotions like sadness he was treated like there was something wrong with him too. and i know it wasn’t my brother — i spend a lot of time working with my high school’s diversity team, and in a lot of the events we organise, guys talk about how they feel enormous pressure to be angry and never sad, and to have stereotypically masculine interests and never deviate from that norm.

i also know men who’ve struggled to get jobs such as teaching as those are viewed as ‘female’ jobs and it’s a common view that men who want those jobs are ‘only in it to be around kids’. i’ve heard many women around me perpetuate sentiments like that, so i know they’re not making it up, even if it isn’t equal to the systematic oppression women face in almost every aspect of their careers.

i’m not providing these examples to prove you wrong, since i do think you’re right. i’m hoping that a window into the way i’ve always thought might help you clarify this in a way that can help me to change my mind, since i just think i’m lacking some clarity or context here. i think i’m conflating abuse and stereotypes with oppression, but i’m really not sure. any advice would be really appreciated!

i’m so sorry if this comes off badly, i don’t mean it that way. i’m just trying to learn, i promise i’m not trying to promote the kind of hate and close mindedness you’ve been seeing in your inbox as of late.

Hi! As always, I do not mind answering genuine questions!

The things you're talking about growing up and seeing boys around you pressured to present only certain emotions, that's part of the patriarchy!

Certain emotions are supposed to be "feminine" and thus boys shouldn't show them, while girls are often always considered "emotional" in some fashion. That's not oppression based on those boys being men that you're talking about.

It's the backlash that the patriarchy, and by addition trans/misogyny has on men. It's boys being pressured not to show certain emotions because those emotions are "feminine" and they're supposed to associate feminimity with weakness and shit.

What you're talking about there is also trans/misogyny!

The idea that men who do things perceived as feminine are predators, the idea that specific jobs are "female" jobs [while even in those specific female jobs, men are generally paid better and find it easier to get into those jobs than women trying to get into traditionally "male" jobs"]

[Though obviously this varies based on race and whether they're trans, etc, etc.]

To be a little more clear, all of the things you're talking about don't primarily affect cis men/boys. They fuck up transfems, because it's trans/misogyny.

You're right! It's not systemic oppression.

You might wonder if it's social oppression, which is also a no. Social oppression would require a historical/systemic oppression behind it. But that doesn't exist in this case.

What it is is the common issue oppressors run into. While they benefit greatly from oppression, there is also backlash they face from their own systems of oppression.

Like white people who fall into suicide cults trying to work towards white supremacy, or TERFs who fall into groups where they slowly pick each other off as they discover they're not all exactly the same and wind up accusing each other of not being "real" women, systems of bigotry simply do not work out perfectly even for the oppressors.

They never do.

To create the patriarchy, you must establish trans/misogyny, you must establish intersexism and you must push people to conform to those ideals, even if they hurt your own.

It's similar to how white supremacy can harm white people, despite white people obviously not being oppressed racially. The backlash of oppression hits even the oppressors sometimes.

Suppression, as a term, would honestly work far better to describe what you're talking about.

So yes, it's stereotyping, yes it's abusive to tell your children not to show/feel their emotions but it's not oppression based on these guys in your life being men! It's part of how trans/misogyny, transphobia and intersexism are enforced.

I understand exactly where you're coming from! It doesn't sound bad and I genuinely don't mind answering questions! Especially since you've got some good ones!

I'm not sure if I rambled too much to explain this properly but I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions and/or need me to clarify anything here. <33

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake: Bоnus Stаge (spoilers!!)

Love For Love's Sake (Love Supremacy Zone): bonus stagе is a short spin-off story from the author of the original novel, released in June 2024 (after the drama series). It's about 19yo Tae Myungha (from Game World) being transferred into the future and him slowly realizing how 29yo Myungha has been living happy 10 years with Cha Yeowoon and friends.

I promised to keep talking about it and thank you, guys, for enabling me xD Before translating bits from chapters, here's the full summary of everything that happened in this story – for those of you who are not that patient and don't fear spoilers :] I'll put them under more anyway so those who don't want to read the summary won't read them accidentally!

Warnings: suicidal intentions

Let me know your thoughts about this spinoff *д*

Love for Love's Sake: Bonus Stage (summary)

"If your life was a book, what would you want it be about?" "How would the first chapter begin and what sentence would be the last one?" "I wish it was about love."

19yo Myungha (so before canon timeline) is playing games in PC cafe. He doesn't really have money but wants to spend time so he wouldn't have to live it

On the crossroad, he sees a child running before the signal changes, and he jumps to save them but instead of getting hit, he feels like falling. He sees sunbae who pushes him. Message [World has been changed] appears.

Myungha finds himself in the arms of a handsome man who knows him - but he doesn't know this man. Myungha runs away but the man is faster.

[Mission: Make Tae Myungha happy.] [Reward: Memory] [Clear until (0%) ♥♥♥♥♥] [Penalty: Can't return to the original timeline]

Myungha is diagnosed with amnesia. He should be 29yo now, so he just goes along. Yeowoon decides to start over again and introduces himself.

Yeowoon and Myungha have been living together for 6 years and dating for 10 years. 19-Myungha is shocked to know this.

Ahn Sia, Kyunghoon and Sangwon immediately run to check whether Myungha is okay, 19-Myungha is shocked that people worry about him and they've been friends for 10 years.

Yeowoon asked if Myungha would hypothetically date him - just to make sure - but he still wouldn't let Sangwon in before others come (he's sooo jealous)

Sangwon finds younger Myungha a lot of fun, Yeowoon wants to fight with him. Others come, so they try to figure out what's happening.

29yo Myungha is a teacher respected by kids. The girl in his class wanted to kill herself so she went to the rooftop, Myungha ran after her but ended up falling down, and Yeowoon caught him (19-Myungha)

Sia is a shopping mall CEO and a popular influencer now, Kyunghoon does photography/filming professionally, Sangwon introduces himself as 'the one who Myungha rejected when he was 18yo'.

Everyone wants to have chicken and beer but 19-Myungha is a minor so they have chicken and cola and a group sleepover at Myungha/Yeowoon's house :]

Yeowoon tried to sleep with Myungha in one bed but eventually ran away to the living room, flustered.

They all decide to do a trip down the memory lane, since Myungha is "having amnesia".

Yeowoon is a gold medalist now, and many kids go to Shinyeop school now because he made it prestigious.

They visit old Yeowoon's house, and Yeowoon quietly tells him they had kissed here for the first time (on the stairs) 19-Myungha is flustered because he feels feelings that he doesn't know the source of. But he never had his first kiss, never thought about ideal type or love so he's can't stop thinking about it. He tried to take Yeowoon's hand but ran out of time.

After this trip, in the car Myungha clears 20% of his mission and sees flashbacks from the 10 passed years: how they were grilling meat at the rooftop, how they played at the sea.

Yeowoon went to the store to get ice cream, while Myungha and Sangwon were left alone waiting. Sangwon told 19-Myungha about precious memories with him (dogs!), how he was his first love and he kept regretting what if he made a different first impression on Myungha – and now he can.

So he asks for one more chance to start over but gets rejected because Yeowoon was faster once again. Sangwon accepts that his first love is finally over and walks away.

Yeowoon says he likes Myungha more anyway, but 19-Myungha doesn't know it so Yeowoon says he'll teach him. They go to amusement park (closed again) by the sea.

Myungha insists on going to the popular cafe, Yeowoon is hesitant but doesn't reveal the truth until Myungha meets his mom there. Yeowoon takes him away in a hurry as 19-Myungha wants to talk to her in anger. Myungha cries. He thinks if he didn't have Yeowoon next to him now, his mom's reaction would be his last straw.

Mission is cleared to 40%. 19-Myungha sees 18yo Yeowoon crying and being comforted by "him".

19-Myungha thinks the person Yeowoon fell in love with is nothing like him, so he runs away. Yeowoon catches up with him.

Suddenly, they meet his fans. 19-Myungha is confused to learn he's quite popular and has 100k followers on his YT channel where he's been posting vlogs for 10 years (Yeowoon made him do it). He's used to being widely hated as a Crazy Dog, and not widely loved.

19-Myungha doesn't want to restore memories because he doesn't want to return to his original timeline. But he also feels acutely that 29-Myungha is a very different person from him. So he openly tells Yeowoon about the game mission, and Yeowoon believes him.

They return home, and 19-Myungha notices that Yeowoon still cherishes him like they were new lovers and not 10yo couple that usually feels like a family. Yeowoon was testing his reaction to skinship. Myungha calls him to sleep and teases him for having dirty thoughts.

19-Myungha is scared to sleep because he fears to wake up from a good dream. Yeowoon comforts him, while Myungha teases again and asks whether he's going to kiss. Yeowoon responds he'll wait until Myungha does it himself, like the first time (I guess, it's a bit different from drama?)

In the morning, Myungha learns that his grandma is still alive in this timeline and is in the hospital with injured leg. He rushes there and cries a little seeing her alive. He pleads her to come live with them but the grandma is like 'wtf this kid gone insane'.

His memories are cleared until 60% and he remembers time spent with his grandma.

19-Myungha watches videos on "his" Youtube channel and he sees what kind of life 29-Myungha lived and what kind of person he was. He finds they weren't actually that different and he could become him. He sees how liked he was and what kind of person younger Yeowoon was too.

They go to get groceries, and suddenly 19-Myungha is surrounded by kids that claim he's their homeroom teacher. Yeowoon saves him from awkwardness, it seems like they don't know Yeowoon and Myungha are dating. The kids say that their entire class will always love their teacher Myungha, and 19-Myungha understands why he chose this job.

Mission is cleared until 80%. He sees flashbacks from teaching kids, he still keeps in touch with the ones that left. 19-Myungha starts to smile.

But he still doesn't want to go home, he's also scared that original Myungha comes back and he will disappear. He doesn't want to leave.

Yeowoon tells him he'll be waiting for him even if he goes back to his time. He tells him to return and find 18yo Yeowoon, because he exists there and he will definitely like and choose Myungha.

Myungha is overwhelmed with feelings and goes to kiss Yeowoon. This time he's the inexperienced one.

The timeline written down by Myungha: "First meeting at 19, first fight at 20, living together at 23, passing teacher's exam, Yeowoon breaking the world record, Myungha becoming homeroom teacher, having 5 anniversary trip".

Last 20% are still missing. He's waiting for Yeowoon to come home, he returns with the cake and flowers. It's their 10th anniversary today, so Yeowoon insists he still has to celebrate, despite the situation. Myungha feels bad that he always forgets about anniversaries.

Yeowoon proposes to Myungha. He gives him his wedding plan and prepared funds.

Myungha laughs (while Yeowoon is annoyed :D) and gets positive buff, as he falls in love. [Mission is cleared until 99.9%]. He witnesses more happy flashbacks.

Because it's legally difficult, Yeowoon still wants to get married. Myungha tells him if he proposes again in 10 years, he'll accept. And teases him for being in such a rush to speedrun the relationship.

He remembers all memories from 10 years of their life and love together, he tells Yeowoon 'of course' and finally decides to return home and meet Yeowoon in his own timeline.

But Myungha is scared because there's still 0.1% to fail. He remembers the sunbae who pushed him before the world has changed. He wonders who that was.

He sees himself talking with sunbae, who asks him what is happy life to Myungha and if his life was a book, what would it be about.

"If your life was a book, what would you want it be about?" Someone is asking next to me. "...love. I wish it was about love." I wished that this thing, which was so common that I could hear about it everywhere but have never really felt it, could exist in my life too. The sunbae smiled quietly. "I just decided on a title".

Sunbae tells Myungha that humans are made of stars and apologizes that he was so late. He asks him to live the way he wants to.

He pushes him again. Message [The world has been changed] appears.

29yo Myungha wakes up next to Yeowoon and immediately goes to hug him. He finally feels like his soul and body are perfectly aligned, and he remembers how lonely he was when he was 19.

He tells Yeowoon they'll go see stars on their honeymoon trip. But first, they want to take a trip to Taiwan and the grandma is bitter they're not taking her with them because she's convinced they're gonna secretly get married there. But Myungha and Yeowoon want to get married in Korea.

[Mission: Make Tae Myungha happy is completed with 100%]

29-Myungha goes to meet the girl in his class who he saved on the rooftop. They both talk about how they don't want to die anymore and they should never give up. The girl also says Yeowoon suits him well, and Myungha promises to invite her to their wedding.

[END OF THE GAME.]

[LOADING]

19yo Myungha gets back to his conscience on the street, as someone asks him if he's okay. He is surprised to see Yeowoon, while Yeowoon is displeased that Myungha knows his name since they never met before.

Yeowoon walks away, but Myungha starts running after him.

[ENTERING THE LOVE SUPREMACY ZONE]

That's it 🥺 Of course, there are many amazing and touching moments in the story itself but I wrote down the main points. Aren't they precious?!

Tag list: @pickletrip @bunni-bun @illuminutiae @kaleidoskuls @delesaria-blog @maybe-boys-do-love

[disaster-j]

What really pisses me off is people insisting the break-up doesn't make sense as its own thing when it's so clearly in-character for both of them

Buck has been in a serious relationship with a man for six months but hasn't said the word bisexual. We only know that's His Label bc Oliver Stark calls him bisexual outside of the show. Buck has had what seemed to be a perfect fairytale relationship with Tommy bc Tommy made him feel so safe and comfortable and taken care of that he just let everything else about his coming out journey kinda simmer on the back burner.

And, hey, there's nothing wrong with taking your time with that. But considering the scene at dispatch where he still couldn't talk about his sexuality in concrete terms, clearly he hasn't processed it much, if at all. Buck is the guy who dives deep into research at the slightest opportunity, him knowing so little about queerness and queer culture six months into a serious same-sex relationship isn't just out of character but a clear sign that he simply hasn't done any work to explore his sexuality for himself outside of his relationship with Tommy. Whether the writers intended for it read like that or not doesn't matter very much, bc that's exactly what I'm seeing here.

And, again, that alone as a reason to break up with someone is extremely shitty but that's also not what happened.

Tommy clearly has a history of isolating. He's been hurt a lot in the past, we don't need to know the details to know he's a deeply wounded man who spent most of his life guarding his own heart from the world. He told Buck and the audience over and over again, "I look confident. I look sure. I am comfortable. But it took hard work. I wasn't like this before. This is new. This is good but this is scary. I'm working on it I'm working on it I'm working."

He can see that Buck views him as something more, something better, than he thinks he is. Buck loves Tommy, Buck was infatuated with Tommy. Tommy was this perfect guy in Buck's eyes. And that scared Tommy. It intimidated him. But he kept going bc it wasn't a big deal and he could always remind Buck that hey he's just a guy, a guy who had done things wrong for a long time. But Buck never fully grasped it either. Likely bc of how good Tommy made him feel, he struggled to fully grasp that things with Tommy couldn't always be so perfect and good and safe.

They don't talk about that but they keep going bc they like each other bc they're falling in love bc until that six month mark they were both still fairly distracted by how good it felt to be together to really, seriously consider the ramifications of ignoring those not-so-little things they didn't want to face right then.

And then suddenly it's been six months and they're clearly both in love and they're both clearly not ready to be acknowledging that at all. It's been six months and they're just trying to match each other's pace but have never talked about what that pace actually is and then suddenly they're talking about how Tommy used to be engaged to the woman who taught Buck what a real relationship meant and they still aren't even ready to acknowledge they're in love but Buck is already asking to move in together and talking about marriage and they haven't even said i love yous and Buck can't even utter the word bisexual out loud but he wants to jump into living together and fusing their lives together.

But he's not ready for that. As far as Tommy can see he's not ready for that. And if he's asking for something so big when he can't even say the word love then maybe, in Tommy's mind, he'll never truly be able to say it. Maybe they'll keep going like this. Living together and being together but Buck can't face his sexuality as its own thing and Tommy can't face how his trauma affects their relationship and eventually it'll be too much and maybe Buck still wouldn't want to say it and Tommy would push him away like he pushes everyone away and then they'll be right back to that moment, weeks or months or years later, with Buck wanting more but not able to say those words and with Tommy wishing he'd left before it hurt so much.

And sure it hurts to leave now but at least now he's early. Now, Buck hasn't wrapped himself around every piece of his life. Just his heart. At least now he'll hurt but he won't have to move just to get rid of the scent of Evan Buckley perpetually lingering in every corner of his home.

Buck loves Tommy so much he can't imagine a future without him. Tommy loves him so much he can't imagine a future where he gets to keep him.

The break-up makes all the sense in the world. It just doesn't make sense that the break-up wouldn't force them to work on their respective issues and bring them back together stronger in the future.

[roseheartsprincess]

My Riddle Rosehearts dating headcanons!

note: I don't take requests ! :( I just feel like sharing those ahdhdhdjdhdj I love my boy Riddle sm

more under the cut !

— He doesn't like the idea of kissing people without any feelings; Deep inside, he's a hopeless romantic! How could someone do something so pure and loving without really feeling anything for the other? Pfft.

— He didn't really realize he was in love with you, it was just admiration for you, right? Maybe because you follow the rules and are a good student, maybe because you are so confident in yourself and don't depend on rules like he does... Who knows? Poor guy.

— Yeah, Trey definitely notice that between you two. Why would Riddle of all people be so much more nervous and strict about a unbirthday party? What sets it apart from the others? Is it because you're coming?

— After some good amount of time, you're finally dating the red-rose tyrant!

— He's gentle, so gentle that you wonder if he's the same Riddle who was collaring everyone some time ago. He is also your admirer! Although he's not as creepy as Rook tho . . . He loves you so much, he really likes to stare at you for a looooong time. Even though he disguises it by saying that his uniform was untidy.

— Touch starved. He won't cling to your waist and beg for affection, of course not, but he would love some kisses as a reward after studying or something... Can there be cuddles too? · Please give this boy lots of love. He'll love it and take it all.

— He's not a fan of PDA. To be honest, he hates couples making out around him, and he wouldn't want to do the same to you— not in public. He prefers to show his affectionate and cuddly side in private, only you have that privilege, okay?

— Even though, he likes being next to you. You're heading to your dorm on curfew time? He'll be with you to make sure you're all cozy under your blanket. Going to library? He'll go too and study with you. Going to Heartslabyul? Please do. There's someone waiting for you.

— He's such a gentleman! His mother may not have taught him about love, but she sure taught him how to be a truly gentleman. He kisses your knuckles, fixes your hair, takes you places and takes care of you... A sweet boy.

— He sees you in such a pure way; Could NEVER see you as a 'hot body' or anything. That's it.

— He drops everything for you. You call him in the middle of the night? You'll get scolded but he insists on answering you and having your precious sleep interrupted. You're sick and he has studies for an upcoming test? Be ready for a Riddle of two roles: A doctor and a teacher. You're feeling clingy today? He's not so clingy himself, but he'll be glad to be your personal pillow. Kiss and cuddle him all you want.

I'm out of ideas and sleepy. Goodnight.

[ceilidhtransing]

I'm extremely done with electionposting but I feel like there's one huge elephant in the room that's barely being talked about vis-à-vis the whole issue of non-voters. I see so many posts to the effect of “does the result really indicate that the people who didn't vote are bad, or that the Democrats simply failed to convince them to vote for Harris?” and I have to talk about that.

Obligatory clarifications because people are understandably very heated at the moment and I know people will jump to take this entire post the wrong way:

I know that the tens of millions of people who did actually vote for Trump are much, much more of a glaring active problem than the people who didn't vote at all.

I know that it is, overall, in most circumstances, bad to assert that a candidate is just “owed” your vote, rather than having to win your vote.

I know that Trump's base is unpersuadable and will vote for him whatever happens. I'm not talking about them; I'm talking about non-voters, particularly anyone who voted Democrat in the past but didn't show up this time.

I know that it's shitty that people should have to settle for a candidate they don't like very much because that's the only way to avoid a much greater evil. It's a rubbish situation to be in, but Harris and Trump were the only viable options presented at this election, and nothing changes that.

I know that some people abstained as a (extremely misguided and counterproductive) “protest” against the situation in Gaza. But if the numbers we're seeing are accurate, Harris lost 15 million voters compared to Biden, and I really can't see all of those being “protest-abstainers”. Some of them will be, but clearly a lot of people simply didn't show up, and if you reply with something like “well not doing a genocide would have helped them!” I will just assume you haven't read this. I'm not actually talking about the “protest-abstainers”, I'm talking about the passive non-voters.

I know that the Democrats are hardly, hardly perfect and that a lot of people do not trust them to deliver the kind of meaningful change that they need. Trust me, whatever criticisms of the Democrats you have, I know. They are tangential to the actual point of this post.

But it is properly mind-boggling to me that we have got to a point where we genuinely talk about people needing to be “convinced” to vote against a candidate so thoroughly, off-the-charts terrible as Trump, and as far as I'm concerned it speaks to the incredible job much of the media has done for the last I don't know how many years at continually normalising and sane-washing him, his ideas, his actions, and his speech.

If we were to teleport back to some time significantly before the Trump Era - before US politics got quite so wild, before it became in any way “normal” for a president to rack up an uncountable number of the kind of scandals that individually would have sunk any previous president but which are apparently just the way things are now - and comprehensively describe Trump to the average voter, and then say that he's in an election against a very standard middle-of-the-road don't-rock-the-boat Democrat, and ask “one of these is going to be the president; how are you voting?” the response is very likely to be “fuck me, the Democrat obviously! jesus christ just don't put that guy back in charge!”

Trump is such an appallingly bad candidate on literally every front that I can hardly believe the conversation focuses on whether Harris did enough to convince people to vote for her rather than the fact that Trump himself has spent most of the last decade doing what should be an incredible job at convincing people to vote for her.

And I know the general adage about “people need to be convinced to vote for a candidate, not just against another candidate!” but fucking hell, when one of the candidates is THAT GUY, it really should not take much at all to convince you to vote for whoever isn't him. Where's that meme about Any Statewide Election in North Carolina that has “Adolf Fucking Hitler” winning against “Bland Normiedem” 49% to 48%? Because that's what it feels like when people talk about voters just not being hyped enough by the Harris campaign to vote for her. “Yeah, I know Adolf Fucking Hitler is pretty terrible, but Bland Normiedem just hasn't done a good enough job at winning my vote, and really both sides are bad, you know?”

The thing is that all of the things people say about “you need to run a positive campaign, not just a negative one” and “you need to earn people's vote, not just take them for granted” and “you need to have a good reason to vote for you, not just that you're not the other guy” etc I totally, absolutely agree with - in a normal election with normal politics and normal candidates! None of what we're seeing with Trump is, or should be, normal! “You won't need to vote again” isn't normal, “dictator on day one” isn't normal, running with the intimate support of a bunch of christofascists who are open about their desire to turn America into an authoritarian hellscape isn't normal, and it has been utterly maddening to see people treat this as just another standard uninspiring election and not a code red “for the love of god stop this guy” situation! To use that reference again, it is an absurdity to frame things in terms of Bland Normiedem needing to run a great campaign to convince people to vote for him when his opponent is Adolf Fucking Hitler!

There are many questions to be asked about this election, but re: people not showing up to vote for Harris, a major one that needs to be asked far more often is “how the fuck did Trump and his whole campaign become so normalised to voters that “whether you're persuaded enough by Harris's campaign” is even a serious question? how is Trump Being Trump not persuasive enough for most people?” And this post is long already, but the media has a lot to answer for regarding how they have consistently sane-washed what he's said, normalised his positions, hell, normalised the fact that he's even running in the first place given his many crimes and the way he responded to losing the last election. Trump's enormous base is absolutely the most pressing problem, but this time around that base has been directly enabled to trample everyone else by millions and millions of people apparently just not being “motivated enough” to stop him. That is also a problem.

In no sane circumstances should Trump be a candidate that you have to be extensively, enthusiastically persuaded to keep out of office, and yet here we are, talking about how well or badly Harris convinced people to vote for her when literally everything about Trump ought to have been doing a good enough job of that anyway. How the fuck did any of this become normal? How the fuck did we reach a point where anyone - especially previous Democrat voters - is looking at these two candidates and going “eh, I'll just sit this one out, Harris hasn't done enough to earn my vote”?

(And in case I haven't been sufficiently clear, please don't reply to this with any variation of “she should have done xyz!” or “maybe if she hadn't done xyz!” This is not about debating her strategies or the merits of her campaign. A different discussion is the place for that. My point is that Trump is so out-of-this-galaxy leagues worse than her in every conceivable way that she shouldn't have had to “run a brilliant campaign” in order to sweep votes from the tens of millions of Americans who aren't Trump's base. Anyone like her running against Trump should have won in a fucking landslide and the fact that she didn't is not just an indictment of “a campaign that didn't do enough to persuade people” but also an indictment of the electorate and of the media's continual normalisation of Trump. To place blame entirely on “well she didn't run a good enough campaign” - as if in a race between Bland Normiedem and Adolf Fucking Hitler the whole focus should be on the merits or demerits of Bland Normiedem's campaign rather than the fact that Adolf Fucking Hitler is Adolf Fucking Hitler - is to miss an enormous part of the picture and also to reinforce the normalisation of Trump as just any other standard reasonable candidate. It's to buy into the whole deeply false “both sides” thing that the media loves to do, where we go “well Candidate A here is a near-octogenarian quasi-fascist wannabe dictator and convicted felon running on a platform infused with Christian nationalism and hardcore authoritarianism, who refuses to accept he lost the last election and essentially tried to hold onto power by force, and who has spent the last four years in countless trials regarding all the insane crimes he got up to both during and outwith his presidency, but on the other side, how watertight really are Candidate B's policies?” and pretend the two candidates are even remotely equivalent or comparable, and this very approach is a huge part of the problem.)

[ladykailitha]

Serial Killer!Steve and P.I.!Eddie

Thanks to @dreamercec and @bookworm0690 for the inspiration and helping me work out the kinks in this juicy plot bunny!

Steve was a serial killer of serial killers (a la Dexter) who got his start when he accidentally killed Jason Carver rescuing a girl he was about to murder for the sin of being gay (Robin). And even though he didn’t mean to do it, killing a murderer gave him a rush.

But after he killed Jason he skipped town.

Jason had started killing after Chrissy broke up with him for Eddie because he was being controlling and killed her. Then he started killing other girls whom he decided were sinners and/or sluts.

The unfortunate side effect of Steve blowing town was that he wasn’t in town for the fall out. Eddie Munson was accused of not only the murder of Jason Carver, but all the other girls. It’s not until Robin tells the police that the one who saved her didn’t have tattoos and Eddie finally gives up his alibi for the majority of the murders (a gay club in Indy) that the police even look for other suspects.

Steve never even blips on their radar.

Eddie decides that the cops are useless and becomes a PI to find out who the real killer was.

Steve in the mean time due to a hefty sum from his trust fund becoming available, decides to travel the country at first and the world later, hunting down serial killers and taking them out. He never does a murder the same way twice. He never visits the actual town it’s happening in. And he never leaves immediately after.

Then he accidentally got to close to one. He didn’t realize that the reason this guy was getting away with murder was because he had a partner in the local law enforcement and now suddenly a lot more eyes are on this murder than usual. So he has to kill the cop and make it look like a murder/suicide to get away.

As in the cop murdered his partner, started a manhunt to throw the scent off himself and then committed suicide when the guilt got too much to bear.

So he retires to a nice country with very little extradition treaties and settles back to enjoy life with the rest of his money.

Only now he’s bored.

So he started writing about his murders. Changed the names, places, and how he killed them, but the bones of his murders are there in those pages. And at the end the character always goes to confession and admits his crimes to the priest.

Eddie loves the books. They’re really well written and remind him of the times he would write mysteries for his D&D campaigns. He remembers Steve Harrington from the fact they had freshmen in common, but didn’t really know him.

Then the third book comes out. “Murder in the Heartlands” does he start to connect the dots. The books sounds too close to his own case and starts digging into it. Makes Hopper pissed when he steals police files.

And then he figures it out around the fifth book that all of them are murders and not just his. And this author knows way to much about certain things. So he joins forums and things and while there are some fringe people thinking Steve’s a serial killer, a lot of people wisely point out that Law & Order had been pumping tragic news stories for decades and that Steve is likely doing the same.

So he gets the address from Robin and Dustin who both write Steve all the time and starts trying to see if he can trick him into confessing. But the more they write, the more that Eddie realizes he’s hoping for a different confession.

Then murders start happening in Steve’s new town and he’s freaking out. So Eddie decides to come out to the town and help Steve figure out who this person is that’s doing this.

Well, they figure it out, and Steve is all for tossing his weighted body into the ocean forgetting that this thing every happened. Eddie is for NOT doing that. Like turn him into the cops at least, or blackmail the guy. But no more murder. The kids are about to hit college and need his support now more than ever and picking up and moving elsewhere will hurt them. Especially if they don’t know why.

But they are overheard by the killer and he kidnaps Steve to kill him before he blows out of town.

Eddie comes to Steve’s rescue and has to kill the guy to protect them both. Eddie is standing over the corpse of a very bad man and turns to Steve.

“Oh, I think I get why you do this now.”

Steve snorts and confesses his feelings for Eddie. And they kiss about it .

They call the police, Eddie gets heralded as a hero and Steve goes back to writing.

Finally the day comes and Steve has written his last book.

"Well, that's the last of the cases,” Steve says as he mails it off to his publisher, ”I guess it's time to retire from writing, too."

"I really liked that last ending, sweetheart. You did a good job. Let me take care you now. I'll write all about about a PI chasing a serial killer writing about his kills."

Only now Eddie’s book is popular as hell, and he’s getting questions about whether or not there is any truth the story. And each time he dismisses it as fiction. It’s fantasy. Not real. But the true crime podcasts and mystery shows like “Unsolved Mysteries” think that there has to be something to them. Like maybe cases Eddie solved as a PI. But there is no evidence. Nothing to connect Eddie or Steve to the other crimes and while Steve’s last book was semi-autobiographical, there is nothing that suggest the rest were.

Steve and Eddie both refuse to do interviews and only furthers speculation on either side of the debate.

So because Eddie and Steve are also petty assholes, they write a mystery/fantasy/horror series together called “Stranger Things”.

It has five books.

[theitgirlnetwork]

What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 2: Date 1 Pt. 1

Note: Thank you so much for the love you all have been showing this story so far! Thank you for reading, and for the kinds messages I have received thus far! I love interacting and seeing your thoughts and comments so keep 'em coming. I want to take this time to remind you that these characters will be flawed. Rafe is....Rafe, but we love him anyway. And Milan is...someone who is compatible with Rafe. They won't always be the depiction of a healthy relationship, but this is fiction and fun. This chapter isn't too bad, but those who have read the snippet know how it's gonna get. Once again, I have songs for this ship so if anyone is interested in them let me know, and feel free to share some with me if you catch a vibe. Finally, let me know if you have any questions or comments. Other than that, I hope you enjoy. This one is a lot shorter than chapter 1, but it is a 2 parter, so don't hate me. Love ya! <3333

“Wait.”

Rafe pauses, loosening his grip on Milan’s hair and pulling back slightly, irritated that she’d stopped him just as their lips brushed and she breathed the smoke he’d just poured into her mouth between them. “What? What’s up?”

“I don’t,” She sighs, her cool breath on his face, eyes still shut as if she’s forcing herself to pause this moment between them. “I don’t just hook up with guys, you know? Maybe we could…I dunno.”

Oh. Oh. Rafe understands. He’d…he’d forgotten himself for a moment. This isn’t some touron stumbling onto the couch next to him, throwing herself at him. She wasn’t one of those gold digging bitches that tries to fuck  him with faulty condoms in the bottom of her purse. She’s the kind of girl who has her own shit. She doesn’t need him for a come up. Or at least she doesn’t think she does. 

He arrogantly thinks to himself that Milan hasn’t met a man like Rafe Cameron. He’s spent most of his life preparing, becoming the type of man that can run his family, keep them safe and comfortable. The type of son fathers are proud to have and the type of man women want to give a baby. That’s the man who he’s made himself be. 

Rafe had been so focused, only allotting himself time for a little bit of fun once in a while, he’d forgotten that one day he might stumble across a girl that had the potential to be a woman. His woman. 

He nods slowly, a small smile forming on his face as he pulls back more, releasing her head completely and smoothing his hand back onto her knee. “Nah, I get it. We should get to know each other a little better. How ‘bout you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

Milan perches herself up at that, back straightening even more as her face lights up. “Really? You wanna spend the day with me?”

Rafe rests his head back on the top of the couch, sweeping his thumb on her bottom lip before biting his own and nodding. “Yeah, I wanna show you a good time. Get you a little more comfortable with me so I can kiss those pretty lips of yours.”

Both sets.

“Okay, wait, I’m excited. You’re gonna be my first friend here.”

“Friend?” Rafe scoffs. “‘M’not gonna be your friend, Princess.”

“Well,” Milan shrugs, “Like, I don’t know what I could call you, you’re not my man-”

“Yet. Not your man yet.” He and the woman next to him share twin smiles and Rafe only becomes more invigorated by Milan’s eyeroll and shy grin. “Roll your eyes if you want to, I’m a determined guy.” 

“Determined?”

“Yeah, like I know what I like, I work for what I want, so-”

“So what?” Milan giggles, “You…you want me? I should get ready or something?”

“Yeah.” Rafe says flippantly, as if he wasn’t essentially making a threat of courtship to a girl he’d just met like 12 hours before. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d fully wanted from her yet. But the need to have her was nagging at him. Maybe it was lust. She was hot, forbidden fruit for him. He could hear the curses Ward would spit at him now if he fucked around and ruined things with this girl, made an enemy of her dad. Maybe it was how sweet she seems. He’s always liked shiny, new things. When he was a kid, he had to have stuff before his friends did. Toys. Shoes. Stocks. Maybe he’s graduated to feeling that way about women. 

Something about how he doesn’t want to look away. Something about the way she was smiling at him, how he’s talked to her the most, how in a room full of guys drooling over her, those big pretty eyes were locked on him. Rafe felt like he had to look into this weird feeling she’s been stirring in his chest since he’d seen her. 

It’s what’s best for Milan anyway. None of the rest of these limp dick motherfuckers should have her. They’re not real men. Not like Rafe.

Milan hums as she removes the golden under eye patches from under her eyes, massaging in the serum they leave atop of her skin. Grimacing at a gust of damp wind from outside she pads against the marble floor of her bathroom and pushes the double doors leading to the patio attached closed. “Stupid, island humidity.” She pouts as she combs through her bob again, praying for no puffiness today.

The sky fights to brighten in the early morning. It’s 5:00 a.m. and Rafe Cameron was going to be picking her up in 30 minutes. 

After the party last night Sarah had run over to her on the front lawn, hugging her tightly before declaring she was going home with John B. and offering for Milan to come with them. When she declines with a smile, the blonde fixes her brother with a glare, to which he’d returned with a middle finger, and stumbled off in her man’s arms. 

Rafe drove Milan back to her house and parked them out front, eyes carefully rotating between staring at Milan sitting pretty in his passenger seat, and watching for a sign of her father at the door. He let her toy with his fingers as she fluttered her lashes at him and he described what he does throughout the day, Or, rather, what they’d be doing today.

When he’d mentioned picking her up after the gym Milan had jumped at the opportunity to go with him. She loved going to the gym every morning before she’d moved and she was happy to keep it going. And it wouldn’t hurt to see Rafe work out. 

It was all she could think about. It’s not just his height. Even though he’s so…so tall. At least 6’2. Rafe is big. Muscle. Strength. Yesterday he’d basically hoisted her full weight into his truck with one arm. The preppy boy polo that he’d thrown on for their families hadn’t hidden anything and his tight crew neck that he wore to the party basically outlined everything for her. 

She quite literally wanted him to throw her around like a ragdoll. Or let her climb him like a tree. Whatever, Rafe is hot. 

He has an intense vibe, seemingly takes himself very seriously. But, Milan figures she could relax him. Loosen him up a little bit. 

They were gonna have so much fun. Smiling at her own reflection in the mirror, Milan spritzes vanilla Sol de Janeiro and all but fucking skips down the steps and to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Milan, you’re awake early. I just started prepping for breakfast, but I could make you a coffee while you wait.” The private chef that her parents had hired a couple years ago had made the move with them. They’d paid for her to come with them to Outer Banks and offered to increase her salary because…well…it wasn’t their nice home in Quebec that she was used to. 

“No, thank you, Miss Ally.” Milan reaches over, stealing a newly washed strawberry and biting into it. “And my parents aren’t awake, right?”

“Of course not. You know your mother won’t roll out of bed until she smells the food cooking and your dad won’t come until I’ve had to warm it up twice. Why? Are you alright, honey?”

The younger woman nods, tossing the green stem into the trash and reaching for two travel cups. “Can you keep a secret? I have, like, a date today.” 

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, with a guy. He’s really cute, and sweet. So,” Milan begins sifting matcha, smiling down at the cup and resting her cheek on her shoulder. “‘M’gonna hang out with him today.”

“Less than 48 hours and there’s a boy, huh? Atta girl.” Miss Ally passes Milan the vanilla protein powder. “You’ve been worried about the move, thinking it was a bad idea, and here you are making friends.”

“Mhm, hot ones. With blue eyes and dimples.”

“And where,” Ally nudges Milan out of the way as she pours the hot water into the travel mug, “am I supposed to tell your parents you are when you’re out with Mr. Blue Eyes and Dimples?” 

“Touring the island.” She chirps. 

“With who?”

“Just like…generally. They should be cool with it honestly, I just know they’re gonna make it weird, but like, he’s the son of Dad’s first friend here so he shouldn’t be mad. How come he gets a boyfriend and I don’t?”

“Oh, just say that to your parents, I’m sure they’ll go for it then.” Ally snorts, whisking the eggs as Milan seals the travel mugs, laughing to herself as the girl slides both of the pink cups to the end of the counter next to her gym bag.

When Rafe pulls up outside of the Cabot house, he texts Milan before hopping out of his truck and jogging up the cobblestone. He agreed not to ring the doorbell because her parents were awake but he’d be damned if he didn’t pick her up at the door. 

As he stands on at the doorstep he adjusts the hat he has rested on his head and rocks on his feet impatiently. He isn’t waiting long. The door swings open and he’s immediately hit with the sweet smell of vanilla and soon after is met with the walking wet dream carrying the scent. 

“Good morning!” Milan grins, tossing her arms around his neck, bouncing up into his arms. Rafe isn’t fucking stupid, he’s quick to catch her around the waist and squeeze, relishing in the feeling of her pressed against him. 

“Morning, princess.” he murmurs into her hair, squeezing her again for good measure before placing her back on her feet.  “You, uh, you always go to the gym in shit like that?”

“Shit like what? Stop.” she laughs as he snaps the elastic of her leggings. 

“You just look good. That’s all I’m sayin’.” He chews the gum in his mouth and nudges her chin with his knuckle, mumbling, “Watch your mouth.”

“Yeah? Thank you.” she grins, looking away from him briefly. “I made…I made you something, like a gym drink or whatever.

“That’s cute sweetheart, what do you like me or somethin’?” Rafe snorts, choosing to ignore the fact that the travel mug she was pushing into his hands was bubble gum pink. He holds his hand out to her, not even looking back as he starts guiding her over to his truck. When he hears a little shuffle from her he looks back and glances down at her feet. “What the fuck, your shoes aren’t tied.”

“Okay, one of them untied when I was making you this delicious protein shake and I didn’t wanna make you wait-” 

“Christ.” Rafe grunts, unlocking his car and wrenching the door open, planting his hands on Milan’s waist and hoisting her into the seat easily. He tugs her foot onto his lap and begins tying the lace of her sneaker tightly. “Gonna break your fuckin’ neck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall, Rafe-”

“You literally were letting me drag you down those steps.” When he’s done Rafe lifts her leg into the car, closing the door and walking around the driver’s side and climbing in. After he clicks his seatbelt on, he pauses and frowns when he sees Milan’s pout staring forward at the road. He puffs out a breath. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t said ‘thank you’. For your drink.” 

“Wh-are you serious?”

“Yes. You seriously haven’t said ‘thank you.’” 

“Uh…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he observes the girl. Arms crossed, dramatic frown on her pretty, glossed lips, knees pointed away from him. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” she immediately warms up, clicking her own seatbelt on and taking a sip of her drink, moving back to the middle of her seat. As Rafe tries to sort through what quick, guerilla warfare he’d just experienced, he starts driving the car. 

So that’s her game. She’s cute and pretty and pouts like a fuckin’ brat when she doesn’t feel like she’s getting what she wants. Or someone is saying something she doesn’t wanna hear. All she’s showing me is that I’m exactly what she needs.

“M’just sayin’ like your shirt’s a little slutty. Like it’s tight, I can see your nipples and everything.”

“Don’t say shit like that, what the fuck?” 

“It’s like tight and stuff, like it’s a little bit of a hoochie shirt.” 

“Hoo-hoochie shirt. Fuckin’ brat.” Rafe shakes his head. In the time it’s taken to drive to the gym and for Rafe to put his card down to get Milan a temporary membership, she’d clearly been trying to test him. She was pushing boundaries to see what he would and wouldn’t accept. And he would try to be patient. But the jokes weren’t gonna be as funny when he was using her mouth for what he really wanted to use it for. Not now. He had to wait. To humor her. She was cute. He’d give her that. Maybe he needed to be cute back. “Don’t work out in the damn shirt anyway,” 

Milan’s eyes widen as she stares up at Rafe from where she’s stretching on the floor. She bites her lip and shifts her gaze to herself in the mirror as he easily tugs the tight shirt off of his chiseled muscles, tossing it into his gym bag next to her. 

Jesus. She bites her lip, berating herself inwardly as she glances at the tanned skin he was now baring for the world to see, six pack on display as he starts doing some standing stretches. “Here, sweetheart.” Rafe crouches next to her, pushing one of his airpods into her ear. “You, uh, didn’t have headphones, so you can just listen to my shit.”

“Can we make a spotify jam?”

“What?”

“So, I can add songs too, can we make a jam? And we’d be listening to the same thing, at the same time, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, sure why the fuck not? You’re not gonna add any corny shit are you? M’trustin’ you with my workout. Like that’s pretty fuckin’ special.”

“Oh my God, Rafe, I’m…I’m sure we have basically the same taste in music.”

Rafe and Milan are at war for essentially their whole warm up. They agree to separate for cardio and then meet back up for them both to try some of each other’s usual workouts. With the shared music blasting in their ears, they both still felt like they were hanging out for the 40 minutes that they are apart. Rafe spent half of his run on the treadmill listening to Beyoncé and Sabrina Carpenter’s discographies while Milan genuinely flinched on the stairmaster with Travis Scott and 50 Cent pounding against her ear drums. Both of them looking at each other with sick satisfaction when it was their turn to pick a song, making a game out of picking something they thought would irritate the other more. 

Rafe had finally had enough and started skipping Milan’s picks when the High School Musical Soundtrack started playing, eventually coming to pluck her off of her machine to start doing weights as Troy began singing about wanting his own dream. 

By now they’d both finished their protein shakes and felt like they had a lot of energy. Well, at least they both did. Until Rafe started making Milan do his workouts.

She was both turned on and enraged as he demonstrates different forms of weightlifting, chuckling at her deeply as she struggles to do another set. “Mmkay, okay, that’s enough, I’m done with that.”

“Nah, you didn’t even finish that one, c’mon let’s go.”

“Rafe, no” she whines getting off of the bench. Milan immediately gasps as Rafe fists the fabric at the front of her leggings, lifting her off of her feet and physically placing her back onto the equipment. 

Slapping her thigh, he offers her a no-nonsense look that lets her know that she isn’t getting up until she completes this workout to his satisfaction. “Baby, let’s go, stop fuckin’ around.”

Shit. Yes sir. “I want…breakfast food after this. Like, waffles, and butter and stuff.”

“'Let me come to the gym with you, Rafe. I wanna where my cute little outfit and not workout.'”

“Asshole.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Wait…until we start doing my pilates workout. All those muscles will mean…nothing.”

“Yeah, you like ‘em?” He smirks, grabbing the weight to ease it down against her before helping her off. “That your excuse? Can’t focus?”

“Stop…being mean, worst date ever.” She whines, leaning her head against his chest. 

Rafe pats Milan’s ass twice before nudging her into the direction of the next machine. "Best fuckin' date of your life, brat."

“Are you gonna keep staring at my butt or are you gonna try again?” Milan calls over to Rafe. 

“My body is not built for that girly shit. You keep goin’ though.” He says. Milan rolls her eyes and continues on the machine, pausing when she sees the reflection of a camera flash in the mirror. “Damn, flash was on.”

“Rafe!”

“You look good, baby. I thought you’d like me to be all sentimental and shit, capture our first date.”

“Oh my God. You’re like, not even working out at this point.”

He shrugs, tilting his head to get a better view of her. “You’re the one who got an attitude when that girl asked me to spot her and made us change floors.

“She saw you with me.” Milan hisses through her teeth, pausing her movements. “She was trying to be funny.” 

“Think so?” Rafe scoffs, squirting water into his mouth from the bottle he’d kept in his bag. 

“Yeah, but if you liked the attention you could go back down.”

Rafe wets his bottom lip at that. Being at the gym with Milan has been fun. Turns out, he likes talking to her, which is more than what he could say for the majority of the population. She’s sexy, and doesn’t mind him being handsy. She seemed to all but expect him to pat her ass in encouragement after she finishes anything. She likes for him to teach her, guide her movements, place her on and off of machines. She likes to whine and have him sort her out. And she’s possessive. Jealous. Normally the concept of having someone police him sounds emasculating and unacceptable to Rafe. But watching her pretty little face turn into a scowl as she watched girls check him out or come up to him like they always did in the gym? It turned him on bad. 

She matched his crazy. It didn’t matter that it was their first date, the same way Rafe’s lip curled in disgust as he caught the fuckheads wandering the gym eyeing her before he stepped in their line of vision, Milan would physically place herself in front of his view, guiding his eyes to her and away from any girl delusional enough to think they were as bad as her.

But her mouth when she’s frustrated. That was something Rafe was gonna have to work on. Lucky for the both of them, a stern warning seemed to be enough for now. Rafe stalks over to where she’s sitting, stepping on the machine behind her and wrapping his hand loosely around her neck, pushing the back of her head to rest on the front of his stomach. Milan looks up at him through her lashes, as he pushes his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her mouth and squirting a little water in from his water bottle. He fixes her with a disapproving look. “Chill out. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“I followed you up here, right?”

“Yeah.” she says softly, leaning into his hand.

“Alright then. Let’s not worry about the wrong things.”

After 3 hours at the gym the two of them hit the showers, separately despite both of their hesitation to separate again. They walk out of the building in different clothes and Rafe’s arm strewn over Milan’s shoulder, holding her hand where it came up to meet his own. He has to hide his smirk when he catches her making eye contact with the girl who’d asked Rafe to spot her as they walked out, a bright smile on her face. 

He was starting to like this pretty little thing more and more. Rafe lifts her back into the car, this time buckling her seatbelt for her before getting into the driver’s side. He finds that Milan can talk…a lot. She has jumped from topic to topic in the 15 minute drive more than Rafe thinks he can in 2 hours. He’s surprised to find he doesn’t find her annoying. Rafe finds his cheeks dimpling as he listens to her yap about her favorite tv shows, a movie she wants him to watch, her plans for her next nails set and thinking about getting highlights in her hair.

All the while she rubs his bicep, leaning into him as he holds her thigh in his large hand. He offers her small mumbles of acknowledgement to let her know he’s still listening. ‘Hm.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Sound’s good, baby.’ 

“You’re not listening to me.” she sighs, looking out the window as they pull into the restaurant. “M’talkin’ too much.”

“Nah, I like that shit. I’d let you know if I’d had enough.” Rafe places his hand on the back of her headrest as he backs into the spot. “But, uh, my head’s always movin’ right? I’m thinkin’ while I listen.”

Milan watches as he shifts gears and places his truck in the middle of two spots, declaring under his breath he doesn’t want anyone ‘fuckin’ up his truck’ to justify taking up two spots. “So…okay. What’re you, like, thinking about? While you’re listening to me.”

“Uh, honestly?” He asks. Intense blue eyes rest on soft brown ones. Milan just nods, turning more toward him. “How fuckin’ hot you are. Pretty fuckin’ distracting.”

“Oh.” She says.

“Yeah. Oh. Does that throw you off or something, like, oh is a weird response-”

“No, I was just saying oh, like-”

“Okay, because, I’m being pretty fuckin’ clear and you’re-”

Milan unclips her seatbelt quickly. Before Rafe can blink her soft lips are pressed against his and before he can kiss her back she’s back in her seat, pulling down the mirror and fumbling in her purse for her lipgloss. “I wasn’t supposed to kiss you until our first date was over. I can’t believe I did that. Oh my God.” Rafe chuckles lowly as she fumbles in her purse, dropping it and spilling its contents all over her lap and the floor of the car. “Oh my God.”

“Did you, uh,” He pauses, trying not to openly bark out a laugh at her, scratching his head. “Did you only bring lip gloss and perfume? Like, no wallet. At all.”

“Okay…” Milan starts slowly, “I understand that looks bad, and like, people believe in that 50-50 stuff now, and so I shouldn’t-”

“Baby, the fuck do I look like? I wouldn’t be taking you out if I couldn’t afford to, I’m not a fuckin’ pogue.”

“A what?”

“Don’t worry about it. And don’t worry about that fuckin’ peck, that wasn’t a real kiss.” It shocks her how easy it is for Rafe to scoot his chair back and pull her into his lap. “This is the shit you should worry about.”

Rafe Cameron pulls Milan Cabot into the nastiest kiss that either of them had ever fantasized about, let alone experienced. He holds her jaw, working his own open as he pushes his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her whimpers and humming against her. He separates their mouths briefly to kiss down her neck only to drag back up to her lips, chuckling darkly when she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, gripping her thigh with his free hand as he drools into her open mouth. 

When he pulls away for the final time he rests his head back on the headrest, pushing his thumb into her mouth and releasing a breath as he watches her obediently suck on it. 

By the time they step out of the car to head into the nice breakfast restaurant he’d brought her to, Rafe had willed his…friend to go down, and they had undone the damage he’d done to Milan’s makeup and hair. As he guided her in by the waist, tugging down the hem of her pretty little dress to cover the ass he’d just been gripping he felt a feeling of superiority. The woman next to him was relying on him and him alone to lead her around. All the loser fuckers they passed on the way to their table could stare all they wanted. They could take a mental picture and store it away in their sick little spank banks for later until they came to the realization they’d never get a girl like Milan and finally blew their fucking brains out. But she was here with Rafe. And that’s how he expected it to be from here on out.

He’d decided. She was gonna be his.

[austenpoppy]

I mean. Personally I think it was a great idea to have Dick be a cop, but apart from that, why is that job more important than others Dick has had ?

First of all, there's the role it plays in the story. Dick being a cop and then being fired from the force is a very important plotpoint over many, many issues. It just lasted longer (both in-universe and out-of-universe), and we have more moments of Dick being a rookie cop than we have of Dick doing almost any other job. Bartender ? It lasted a few months when he was working for Hog. Blackjack dealer ? It was over in one or two issues, Dick was undercover and it didn't have that much significance. Exotic dancer ? It merely lasted hours, it was a way for Dick to get into a building incognito. Trapeze instructor ? A few scenes here and there were included over several issues, but overall it was more in the background. Meanwhile, there are entire issues dedicated to Dick's time as a cop - like this time he was assaulted then accused of murder by corrupted cops.

It also ties with the overall theme regarding Blüdhaven : unlike Gotham, Blüdhaven doesn't have a lot of psychopaths, but the corruption is rampant. Dick had to fight against dirty police officers almost as much as he had to fight against supervillains - it's significant that two of Dick's enemies, Soames and Redhorn, are corrupt cops.

As an aside, as much as I liked the way Dick managed to get his hand on Redhorn's little book, I think that from a narrative standpoint, Dick should have won against the onslaught of corruption as a cop, and not as Nightwing (even if he knew who to trust because he was Amy's partner).

Speaking of which, Amy is one of the most memorable characters Dick's ever worked with - and again, the building of their relationship, from Amy being distrustful and scornful to trusting Dick entirely to feeling betrayed then protecting him at the cost of her integrity, took months, lots of issues, and is very touching.

I like Hog (and that guy never died, damn it, he didn't live in Dick's building) - but he was barely present. Cheyenne and Shawn were above all love interests, more than coworkers (even if we can skip Cheyenne because those three issues she figured in were...weird...and forgettable). Dick's circus friends ? They have names, but they're still more background characters representing the lost childhood of Dick than actual characters with character development. Dennis ? Seemed like a nice guy, I guess ?

Third, Dick put in a lot of effort to get into the B.P.D. He had to go through the entire police academy and take tests. Museum curator ? He got the post through his personal relationships, even if he had the skills for them. Trapeze instructor ? He was noticed when he helped a kid. Circus owner ? Come on, yes, he invested his money, but it wasn't about what Dick wanted to be "when he grew up", it was about Dick keeping his past alive. Model ? An accident. Taxi driver ? First time around it was the first job offer he could find. Second time... *cough* Ric Grayson era *cough*.

Fourth, being a cop had an impact on Dick's other relationships. Bruce hated that he was a cop (for multiple reasons : he loathed the idea of Dick using a gun, was worried about him, and thought Dick was risking their secret identities). Alfred was initially supportive, but he also started to get worried. Babs hated it because she didn't want her boyfriend to risk getting killed 24/7.

And despite this, Dick remained a cop even after the corruption got brought down, in spite of his loved ones not liking him endangering himself all the time. And thus this is the fifth reason for me saying Dick being a cop has a lot more narrative significance than Dick being an exotic dancer or a bartender, Dick loved being a cop. Genuinely. It wasn't something he did because he needed a job to remain connected to people and still be Dick Grayson. It wasn't "just" an undercover job. He was ecstatic when he got hired at the B.P.D. He was happy doing it, and at one point it became more than an undercover job - though was it even a job, guys, considering he was doing it for free (that absolute madman I swear to God) ? He kept postponing the moment he'd have to resign after his "undercover" goal was achieved. He was crushed when he got fired.

You have to see, for Dick being a cop was about helping people at their lowest/learning information about people he'd be able to help as Nightwing. And Dick loves nothing more than doing that, so doing it 24/7 ? Sign him the fuck up. Like, some of Dick's most significant "cases" at the B.P.D. were about 1) stopping an act of police brutality, 2) being there to stop a domestic abuser and getting back as Nightwing to tell the guy to flee the city, or 3) getting a letter from a little girl, Kesia, who wanted Santa to help her Dad, crying, and spending the time before Christmas investigating so he'd be able to track her (and if that doesn't move you nothing will).

So yeah, Dick's time as a cop was significant. Now you don't like it ? Let Dick do something that would have the same effect. Let him be in child protection services. Let him be a nurse in the I.C.U. Let him be a firefighter.

Now I know people will say that the gym he opened at one point in the Rebirth continuity had to be something he held dear. It's not false, but I don't think he prioritized it the same way or that it was shown to be as important to him as being a cop was. At that time in that continuity, doing so was also an act of independence (considering he was younger) and of convenience (it allowed him greater flexibility to be Nightwing, something being a cop did not, at least in terms of working hours).

I'm still angry about "Dick is a cop". Thing going on.

Dick hasn't been a cop in 21 years (he stopped in 2003) He had numerous jobs since and before that and he was doing it at the time to try to fight the corruption from inside (whether that was a good idea is up to debate it wasn't in my opinion) and he was written as cop by Dixon (deregatory).

Devin Grayson continued and stopped that.

His most common job is being a barista followed up by a gym teacher.

[midnight1nk]

EPISODE CONCEPT #4

What if... SMG3 had the courage to confess his feelings for the real SMG4?

For context, this is part two of my Episode Concept #3 [link], which many have asked for! @lovesick-simp, this is for you! (this is somehow longer than #3, holy shit.) Now, without further ado…

I promise.

He could never forget the feeling of tangible pixels leaving his arms. What once skin and clothes turned into mere 0’s and 1’s.

Those eyes, the ones he was willing to sink in its depths for hours, they cried. Of apology, of bittersweet farewell. He promised a lot of things, and one was to never let Four cry.

But it was never your Four.

At the time, a thousand thoughts passed through his mind. That this was simply a nightmare, or he had gotten too drunk. Or he ate a Wonder Flower by accident. Somehow, some way, this can’t be happening. He wanted to deny it all, but he knew. Why deny the truth when he fading away in your arms?

Goodbye, Three…

“SMG3?”

Three jumped at the mention of his name, turning to Tari who looked back at him with concern.

Tari: “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to know if you’re okay. You’ve been staring at Lil’ Spot for a while.”

He blinked at her, and then looked down at the gray-feathered duckling nestle in his cupped hands. Ah, yeah, he was.

SMG3: “I was just daydreaming, that’s all.” [*looks around, recalling where he was*] “It really is a nice place. It’s not far from the Showgrounds, right?” Tari, smiles: “Yep, I always like to come down here, it helps me clear my head. Plus, I get to hang around with the duckies!” SMG3: [*nods and with a finger, he soothes the duckling’s head*] “You were right before, I could use the fresh air.” “Eh, Tari, a little help here?”

Three looked across the way to see a couple of yellow ducklings climbing all over SMG4, who was standing by the edge of the lake. All over on his arms, his shoulders, under his blue cap. As Tari ran over to help, Four trying to not let any of them fall while giggling, tickled by their fluffy feathers.

Three began to smile, and perhaps he could let his heart feel that missing warmth.

Have courage.

But the cautious part of him didn't let him. He should've known better, he apologized to his heart.

Not yet.

Four and Tari came back with the tamed ducklings lined up in their arms.

SMG4: “If I spent a little more time with these little guys, they're gonna think I’m their mom.” SMG3, hums: “You always did have a thing for being the center of the universe.” SMG4: “Hey, it's not like I do it on purpose.”

And yet, you managed to become mine. But Three kept that thought to himself.

Tari: “It's getting late, and I told Meggy I was making dinner tonight. I should probably get them back to their mother.” SMG4, handing the ducklings from his arms to hers: “Yeah, we should head home, SMG3.”

Three said goodbye to Lil' Spot before handing the duckling to Tari, who promptly went to drop them off and returned. While Four was distracted, folding up the picnic blanket, Three leaned towards Tari while keeping an eye on Four.

SMG3, whispered: “Tari, could you please do a simulation check?”

Tari looked at him, her concern reflecting once again. He has asked that everyday. Any chance he was with her, it was the same. The first few times, she tried assuring him, telling him, “It's okay, SMG3. There's no need, you’re safe now.”

But it never seemed to calm his nerves. As much as she wanted to protest, she knew that it wasn't an unreasonable exaggeration. Whatever the simulation did to him must've been really horrible for him not to tell anyone what happened. To think he was back.

Tari nodded and programmed a command on the floating screen projecting by her arm. A window popped up saying, No detection of simulation.

Tari: “All clear.” SMG3, letting out a sigh of relief: “Thanks. I owe you one.” Tari, letting out a small smile: “No worries, we’re your friends after all. Though, I wouldn't mind having one of your cookies again once you’re healed.” SMG3: [*chuckle*] “That I can do.” SMG4, swinging the backpack over his shoulder: “Alright, ready to go?”

SMG3 nods. After saying goodbye to Tari, SMG4 pushed SMG3’s wheelchair on the path towards the Showgrounds.

It’s been over a month since Three was freed from the simulation. The Crew wasted no time bringing him to the hospital. The rest, well, it seemed like a blur. To Three at least. The doctors and nurses, what they said, he never caught it. He was lucky that his friends were there to remember for him. Three wasn’t exactly sure what to feel. Should he grieve? Should he be grateful that the Crew found him and his son?

What he did know was the promise that he kept.

The Crew was naturally relieved to see he was in good hands, but anyone could tell that they were exhausted from the stress of the search. So, while Three was going through recovery, they took turns watching over him. The rest, who didn't have the shift, took the chance to rest.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

One night, Tari and Saiko were walking down the quiet hospital hall, Saiko holding a gift bag and Tari a duffle bag with colorful patches all over it.

Tari: “Do you think SMG3 will like the card?” Saiko: “He’s a big softie on the inside, of course he will. Let's just hope we can pry SMG4 away from him.” Tari: “You can't exactly blame SMG4. I mean, don't you remember? He didn't sleep for days, or even eat. He was worried sick.” Saiko: “But he needs rest too, not just us. SMG3 is rescued, he should let us take care of it, if he wasn't so stubborn.” Tari: “Well, that nurse did say SMG3 would be better soon. Maybe we convince SMG4 this time.”

They reached to Three's room, but they found an unexpected sight when they opened the door:

Four fell asleep on the chair beside the bed, his head resting on Three’s lap like a pillow. A sleeping Three had a hand gently on Four’s hair with all the tenderness and quiet reassurance in the world. What was free, their hands were intertwined. It was certainly a rare sight, and they seemed so at peace with each other.

Tari and Saiko shared a glance, a gentle smile.

Tari: “Aw, that's so cute.” [*snaps a picture for the group chat*] Saiko: “C’mon, let’s them be.”

Saiko tiptoed into the room and left the gift bag on the nearby table. Peering at them one last time, she gently closes the door. They could always come back tomorrow.

There, what awaited in the gift bag, were reminders of home. A bomb from his cafe, a mini-plush of Eggdog, a record of jazz music. A homemade card, one side filled with heartwarming messages and the other a drawing of all the Crew with the Castle in the background, one of the best works Melony has ever done.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG4: “I bet I can drink a thousand cans of Monster Energy.” SMG3: “Nah uh! You’re lucky I can’t drink that stuff yet because I would’ve totally beaten you!” SMG4: “Oh, really? Well, I can’t wait to see you try.”

The two laughed as they reached the Castle. Eggdog greeted them at the door, happy to see his dads (And yes, I know what I said, shh) after Three's physical therapy session and jumped into his dad’s arms for a quick hug. Beeg4 slowly followed his brother, only letting out a pufferfish noise as a small “hello”. He isn’t usually the affectionate type. Four went to get Three’s customized cane leaned against the wall, and helped Three get to his feet. (The cane was a gift from the Crew but Bob was the one who added neat little secrets for Three to use. Though, Bob wants it to be off the record that it isn’t because he’s gone soft or anything.)

Ever since Four proposed the idea for Three to stay at the Castle, this has become second nature for them. They switched out the wheelchair with the cane at home so Three would be more comfortable walking around. Plus, he would usually hold Four’s arm to lean on. After his physical therapy appointments, Four would cook up dinner for the whole family. Or see if there’s any leftovers or takeout on special occasions. Three recently got the approval to eat solid food again, and Three couldn't be more glad. He was honestly getting sick of the same old soups day after day. Well, even if they tasted good. And they all sit at their usual seats at the table, not that they assigned seats or anything. It felt natural.

And today was pizza night.

SMG3: “Y’know…” SMG4, setting the pizza down: “No.” SMG3: “Oh, c’mon. You haven’t even tried it, you big baby.” SMG4: “And I already know that your ‘Ultimate Pizza’ is a disgrace to culinary art. To your tastebuds. Who the hell puts baked beans on pizza?” SMG3: “Well, Eggdog likes it.” Eggdog, helping set the plates: [*happy bark*] SMG4: “Oh, so now you’re bringing the kids into this? C’mon, Beeg, help me out here.” [Beeg doesn’t respond] [*acts dramatically, like someone stabbed him in the heart*] “I’ve been betrayed. Pleh.” SMG3, shakes head amusingly: “Shut up and eat, idiot.” SMG4: “Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.” [*taunting*] “Forever.” SMG3: “Oh no, whatever should I… do.”

He… said this before, hasn’t he?

SMG4, mouth full of pizza: “Uh, SMG3, you’re good?” SMG3: “Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” [*eats his slice somberly, looking away*]

Four kept his gaze on Three. He wanted Three to tell him what was in his mind. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Comfort him. They have been there for each other at the worst of times. At each other’s worst.

There were two things they shared with absolute certainty: (1) they’re both stubborn, and (2) they would put up a brave face for the people around them.

Four did, when he discovered Three and Eggdog missing from the cafe. He would put on a determined smile, telling the rest of the Crew that they would rescue Three. But he supposed they could see right through him. That he was crumbling. Three was the one who saved him when he went insane and was possessed by the demonic keyboard. How could he not be frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t do the same?

Biting into his pepperoni slice, Four thought to himself, if only there was a way to take away all the pain Three was feeling right now. If only Three would let go of the front he has and let him show his pain in front of Four. To let Four be his safe space.

There isn’t much he can do, other than to let Three come to him on his own terms. When he is ready.

After finishing up dinner and washing the dishes, they all went to Four’s room. Eggdog and Begg decided to play Jenga, Three sat on the bed scrolling through his phone, and Four went back to editing videos since there was a lot of catching up to do. The record player was playing jazz music, the LP cover was signed “To SMG3”. Three bobbed his head while Four hummed the notes, admittedly it was a great disc that they could both enjoy. After a while, Three reminded Four to take a break from the screen, to which Four immediately complied and sat next to Three.

SMG4: “How’s your legs?”

SMG3: “Tired. But not as bad as last time. Could you pass the pills?”

SMG4, grabbing the bottle and handing it to Three: “Well, you are getting better in today's therapy session. Just wait a bit more.”

When SMG3 grabbed his medication, they briefly touched. It normally wouldn’t mean anything, but there was a tingle. Of curiosity, of warmth. The two lightly blushed, which they quickly brushed it off. They sat in silence as Three swallowed the pills.

SMG3: [*held his jaw by the hand*] “Do you know what I miss the most?” [*looks at Four, who nods as a sign for him to go on*] “Dancing.”

Three didn’t lie, it was one of the things he loved to do. That, and one other reason...

After some thought, Four stood up from the bed. Three didn’t even notice until Four stood before him. Four cleared his throat, a tint of pink on his cheeks, and held out his hand.

SMG4: “Wanna dance?” SMG3: [*puzzled, looking at the hand to Four and back*] “SMG4, I think we should get you some glasses.” SMG4: [*amusingly rolling his eyes*] “’It doesn’t have to be perfect.’ Isn’t that what you always told me?” SMG3: [*starstruck at the remembrance of this memory, lightly chuckled*] “And you dare to use my own words against me.”

Four helped Three up to his feet, his arms being his only support instead of the cane or wheelchair. At first, it was naturally awkward, being that Three is still recovering. Their dancing, if you would even call it that, was more of them shuffling their feet around the floor. They didn’t care.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars

Slowly, they melted in each other’s embrace. Oh, how easily it was to be lost in the other’s eyes, pools of ruby and sapphire. Secretly, they wished they could be like this forever.

Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars

In the back of Three’s mind, alarm bells were ringing loudly. It isn’t real. He just wants to be friends. Somehow, Three ignored it all the moment Four gave him a smile.

In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me

What Three didn’t know, Four was lost in his own mind. The romanticist that he is, he’s freaking out in the inside like a high school girl. It felt like a scene in the romcom movies he watches. But it was real. Three taught him how to give second chances. Perhaps there was a chance now.

Fill my heart with song Let me sing forevermore

Three ran his fingers on Four’s sleeve. It’s real. He’s real.

You are all I long for All I worship and adore

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

In other words, please be true

His hope.

In other words, I love you

As the song ends, the two came to a stop, but they didn’t part. Once again, they were lost in each other’s world.

SMG3: “…We’ve stopped.”

SMG4: “We did? Then, why is a room still spinning?”

Being so close to the other man, the tension was high. Have courage.

Even then, it wasn’t enough. He’s not your Four. Three cleared his throat, looking away before any temptation got hold of him.

SMG3: “I’m… pretty tired, SMG4.” SMG4: “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” [*reaching to hand Three his cane, hiding his disappointment*] SMG3: “Thanks anyway.” [*walks out the door, preparing to go to bed*]

SMG4 stayed where he stood, his heart skipped a beat. It felt like a dream. He danced with his… Well, ‘friend’ was never the right word for him to label Three. Partner? Maybe.

Crush. Yeah… that sounds about right. Ever since Four was saved by Three, he never looked at their relationship the same way. “Just friends” was the stability for the longest time. The “safe” term. And yet, it was selfish to wish for something more. So much so that Four had dreams of a domestic life with Three. Holding hands, to lean to his touch. To…

Four shook his head. Three didn’t seem ready, or even interested. It was just part of his imagination and nothing more.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

The concrete halls were dark, cold by the touch. All was silent except for the dripping coming from an overhead pipe leak. Light shined through, daring the shadows to confrontation.

They didn’t think they’d be back, but here they were.

Mario, Meggy, and Saiko walked down the abandoned building, remembering their way to a specific room.

Meggy: “We’re getting close, guys. Keep your eyes peeled.” Saiko: “I seriously don’t see the point of us coming back here. Whoever did this is long gone.” Meggy: “Tari was telling me how SMG3 was, and… Look, whoever did this really messed him up. But they must’ve had some big plan for them to involve SMG3 in something. We gotta figure out what it was.” Saiko: “If you think it’s gonna help, fine. Like I said, I’m only here as backup.”

Finding the right door, they entered what was once the simulation room. The group split up and searched for any clues.

Saiko: “Looks like they didn’t come back here.” [*examines the monitor and finds a file of plans in creating the simulation*] Meggy: [*picks up the simulation machinery*] “It’s completely busted. Find anything, Red?” Mario: “No.” [*trips over a hidden box, spilling its contents*] “Ow, my ass.” Meggy: “Are you alright?” Mario: [*rubbing his head*] “Yeah.” [*looks at what he tripped over*] “Hey, I found SMG3’s clothes!” Saiko: “Clothes?”

Indeed, there was a pair of black overalls, a dark blue long-sleeve, and a familiar cap. Meggy picked up the cap, spinning it in her hands. Seeing the “M” emblem, she recognized it immediately. SMG3 wore this getup before the redesigns, and she knew why the “M” was attached.

Meggy: “The Youtube remote. They were trying to make SMG3 into a villain again.”

Mario and Saiko exchanged a glance, seeing the situation at hand. To force Three into a villain again…

Saiko: “You guys get out of here.” Mario and Meggy: “What?” Saiko: “The simulation machinery may be destroyed but it doesn’t mean another one can’t be built.” [*presents the file to them*] “That person’s going to come back and get their things, maybe continue with their plan. They already hurt one of us, it can’t happen again. You guys get out of here, I’ll take care of it.”

Mario and Saiko looked at each other before giving a nod. Saiko was right, the culprit always comes back at the scene of the crime after all. The two left, leaving Saiko alone in the room. She picked up a lighter and lit the file blueprints, watching these plans of cruelty burn to a crisp. She was lucky to buy one of Three’s bombs just for a moment like this. She lit up and ran out, letting the explosive destroy it all. The clothes, the plans. The building itself. Every single bit to a crisp.

No one messes with the Crew. No one.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

“Three?”

SMG3 opens his eyes, widening as he recognizes his surroundings. The white void.

SMG3: [*heavy breathing*] “No, no, no.”

He turned his heel, ready to run, when he was stunned to see…

SMG3: “…SMG4?” SMG4: “God, you really are pathetic.”

Three is left stunned.

SMG4: “I mean, did you really think I had feelings for you? I’m only taking care of you because I feel bad.” [*walks over to Three*] SMG3: “I thought—” SMG4: “Oh, you thought? Please, get a grip on what’s real here.” [*harshly grabbed onto Three’s arm*] Villains don’t get happy endings.” SMG3: “Four, you’re hurting me. Stop it. Just stop!”

Suddenly, Four went limp, starting to fall over.

SMG3: “Four!” [*catching him*]

Three turns Four over to see his face half of it was pixelated, fading away.

SMG4?: “You… couldn’t keep your promise.” SMG3: “No… I… I’m trying. I really am.” Digital SMG4: “I got a chance to live, to experience love of all things.” [*his voice quickly distorting*] “And you ruined it all.” SMG3: “No, it’s not true. It’s not!” Digital Four: “Why, Three? Why did you have to be so cruel?”

In that moment, Four faded away, its code in the wind.

SMG3: “No, no no!”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG3: ”NO!”

Three jolted up from the bed. A hand clutching at his shirt, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Four, who slept right next to his partner, also woke up.

SMG4: “SMG3. Three. It’s okay, that dream isn’t real. It’s not real.” [*his hands gently cradled Three’s face*] “Easy, easy, easy.”

Three finally came to his senses, grounded by Four’s reassurance. His heavy breathing settled until his panic was no more.

SMG4: [*his thumb caresses the other’s cheek*] “See? It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

From the calmness and comfort of his hands, Three leaned into his touch. What he dreamed of, that wasn’t his Four. They stayed like this, the air becoming heavy. Until Three reached to grab Four’s hand from his cheek, but he didn’t shoo the other away.

SMG4: “Three…” SMG3: “I can’t. Sorry…”

SMG4 sighed, once again unable to reach him. But there still had to be a way to help Three.

SMG4: “Hey, do you think you can sleep again?” SMG3: [*shakes his head*] “No.” SMG4: [*gets up from bed and grabs Three’s shoes*] “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Three had no idea where Four was taking him, but here they were: walking through the woods still in their pajamas, in hoodies, and shoes. They weren’t in a rush but Four was seemingly eager to show him this mystery. He looked at Four without the other noticing.

Me, the Crew, everything, it's an exact copy of the real thing.

The Four in the digital world was a mere copy. But even a copy could never show him what he was about to see:

Beyond the woods, there was a field of white flowers. Open to the beautiful stars above. The two sat down and looked at the view.

SMG4: “Whenever I get a nightmare, I always come here. I just happen to stumble over all of this. But it somehow clears my head. Especially after… the ‘perfect’ incident.” [*small chuckle*] “I guess there are some things we can't get over.”

Three looks at him, hanging on to every word.

SMG4: “I care a lot about you, SMG3. More than you could ever realize. But it hurts to see when you’re trying to keep it all together. I know that feeling all too well. I can’t force you to tell me what happened in the simulation, but know that whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.”

Their hands got closer together. Their pinkies touched, they noticed but didn’t show.

SMG3: “I don’t know if you should. All the people I care about don’t stay for long. I’m unlikable, SMG4. I’m a villain and always will be.” SMG4: [*shakes head*] “You’ve changed. Besides, I like you. All of you.” [*their pinkies intertwined*] SMG3: “Four…” SMG4: “No, I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t leave you. Whatever you wish me to be, I will be it. A friend, a partner. Someone you can talk to. Anything.”

The air felt heavy once again, and everything became a blur. The silent wind passed through their hair. Have courage.

SMG3: [*gulping*] “…Then, let me ask: are you real?”

A free hand from Four held the other’s face.

SMG4: [*briefly looking at Three’s lips*] “As real as you want me to be.”

Whatever stopped him several times before, Four cut those ties loose. He leaned forward, his eyes slowly closing. He was patient and ready to see if Three would reject him. But Three didn’t and let Four close the gap.

A soft kiss, it was brief. It was tender. It was real.

Three kissed back, letting the other know he reciprocated. They parted for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

SMG3: “Then, be true for me.”

They went for a second kiss, this time with passion and longing. This. This cleared every doubt they had before. Their insecurities, whatever held them down. Three wrapped his arms around Four’s neck while other did the same, around Three’s back. If this was a dream, screw it, let them dream. This time, nothing was going to take it away from them.

A single tear rolled down Three's cheek. It's been a while, hasn't it?

SMG3, talking in between kisses: “I love you, Four. I always have.” SMG4, doing the same: “I love you too, Three. I wanted you for so long.” SMG3, parting from kiss: [*laugh*] “Oh? Did you now?” SMG4, turning bright red: “Uh.. c’mon, dude, don’t ruin the moment. It’s not my fault you’re attractive.” SMG3, mischievously leaning to Four: “Really?” SMG4: “Shit.���

Three nuzzled into Four’s neck, kissing all over and leaving Four laughing at how ticklish it was.

SMG4, bursting in laughter: “Three, s-stop!” SMG3, whispered: “Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who thought the same.”

Oh, how wonderful was it to listen to the sounds Four makes.

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

His Four.

After a while, the two catch their breath. They leaned onto each other, held hands, and looked back at the stars.

SMG4: “I promise I’ll be true for you.” [*gave Three's hand a squeeze*] SMG3: [*hums, returning the gesture*] “Well then, I’ll do the same for you.”

Three held many promises, one was to never let Four cry. Now, there was another: to be his truest self.

[gaywarcriminals]

On Mouthwashing, Qijiu, cruel characters, and the role of discomfort in blorbo analysis. 

I recently watched a playthrough and some video essays about the indie horror game Mouthwashing (spoilers ahead). For those not familiar, the game follows a man named Jimmy in a crashed spaceship where he reveals himself to be an unreliable narrator and fucked up in a variety of ways as the game progresses. 

Although I’m not immersed in the fandom and thus have a limited sample size, I noticed that people treat him as nearly inhuman. He’s the sole bad actor, a terrible monster destined to hurt everyone. I find this deeply ironic considering the game’s themes of responsibility and accountability: isn’t this kind of dehumanization absolving him of his responsibility to act decently?

It’s also strange to me, because the game goes at lengths to show Jimmy has an enabler. Captain Curly is Jimmy’s friend and boss who is made aware of Jimmy’s erratic and violent behavior multiple times, chooses to do nothing, and ultimately makes possible many deaths through his inaction. Aside from Jimmy’s public outbursts, there are even scenes with a specific member of their crew expressing how unsafe she feels around Jimmy. Despite this, a decent portion of the fandom sees Curly as nothing more than one of Jimmy’s victims, which is curious to me when placed in contrast with Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu.

Yeah yeah I’m blorbo-brained, but I think there’s a lot of points for comparison between Qijiu and Jimmy & Curly, at least in terms of their dynamic and social roles. Jimmy and Shen Jiu are both antisocial assholes with an unhealthy fixation on the generally well liked and affable guy just above them on the totem poll. They’re both convinced their superior is looking down on them, and resent the power he has (SJ less so, he has a lot of other reasons to resent YQY). They both use what power they do have to abuse those below them. Curly and YQY, for their parts, are shown to be explicitly aware of most if not all of their friend’s worrying/dangerous behavior, but do nothing meaningful to stop it. 

If they’re so similar, then why in the case of Mouthwashing is Curly often absolved of his complicity in the face of Jimmy’s overwhelmingly awful actions, whereas in the Scum Villain fandom, it’s just as common to see people pin all of SJ’s actions on YQY and vice versa?

Now, there’s a couple obvious reasons for this. For one, Mouthwashing is a horror game and Jimmy very effectively makes himself the antagonist, which lends itself to the interpretation of him as a the monster afflicting the other characters. For another, Jimmy sexually abused a shipmate, which is a particularly despicable crime (although so, I would argue, is child abuse). There’s also the fact that Curly is very physically robbed of agency for most of the game’s runtime, which might make it harder to see his power and agency before that point, but perhaps the most important difference is that to fans, Jimmy is deeply unlikable, and Shen Jiu is not. 

Personally, I think the reason a lot of people make Jimmy out to be a monster and Shen Jiu to be tragically misunderstood is simple: it can be uncomfortable to like a bad person. 

I don’t think there should be any shame in liking characters who are fucked up people that do horrible things, but I think it chafes at some sensibility within many of us, learned or innate, when we feel such deep emotional connection to a character who’s actions we would normally morally condemn. 

I’ve definitely observed that in some parts of the Shen Jiu fandom– it's the kind of sentiment that leads to discounting his canonical actions in favor of fanon. I’ve never found those fanons very compelling because I have never had any discomfort with Shen Jiu’s canonical actions— in fact, him being a despicable if pitiable mess is what drew me to him (I’m typically quite the fucked-up-evil-guy liker). For once, though, I find myself on the other side of this discomfort with Yue Qingyuan. 

I was thinking today about how one of the earliest things YQY says to SY!SQQ— his 9th line in the novel— was telling SQQ that LBH is strung up in the woodshed, where SQQ always leaves him after beating him. It implies not just that YQY knows about this singular punishment, but that this is an extended pattern of behavior. To me, YQY seems uncomfortable with the situation, but he does nothing to stop LBH from being abused aside from telling SQQ to “be less hard on him”, even though he’s the only person in the sect above SQQ, and potentially the only one with the authority to stop him. 

If Yue Qingyuan knew, did Luo Binghe know the sect leader had found out? Did Luo Binghe know he had been abandoned to his fate?

Like Curly, I think that Yue Qingyuan’s most unforgivable fault as a character was enabling Shen Jiu’s abuse of Luo Binghe and potentially other disciples. I think YQY’s motivations made sense, and I understand the choices he made, but when I think about it for too long I can feel a deep pit in my stomach grow. 

Why does YQY’s arguably lesser crime of enabling SJ bother me so much more than SJ’s own direct actions? Perhaps because I still want to see Yue Qingyuan as a good person, whereas Shen Jiu has already declared himself evil. Maybe I’ve been a little bit caught up in our unreliable narrator’s point of view. 

Fascinatingly, despite his adoration for Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan cum Shen Qingqiu never (to my recollection at least), blames Yue Qingyuan for SJ’s actions. Instead, he sees YQY as one of SJ’s victims— someone that SJ as good as killed, even if it was LBH’s orders that loosed the arrows. 

Shen Qingqiu has a tendency to, for lack of a better term, woobify his favs, and although LBH is by far the most frequent recipient of this treatment, I’d argue that YQY actually receives it more consistently. This is partially because he’s relegated to friendly NPC whereas poor Binghe is the Big Scary Protagonist, but the only time in the whole novel I can think of SQQ seeing YQY as a person capable of harm and fucking up is after YQY’s confession where SQQ puts it together with SJ’s flashbacks, but even then, SQQ sees him more as a cautionary tale for him and Binghe than someone who’s hurt others. Given this narrative bias, I’m honestly surprised* that more of the fandom isn’t simping for YQY too.

Ultimately, I think this discomfort is normal and worthwhile– something to lean into rather than away from. I’d even say it's necessary, should we ever hope to be more media literate than Peerless Cucumber.

*well, I’m not, but that’s a whole piece of fandom history better left untouched