#thanks for tolerating that rant

[mistmaya]

Finally got around to watching Puss and Boots: The Last Wish… my head is incredibly full of (extremely positive) thoughts that I just have to unleash on the internet. **INCOMING SPOLIERS**

The premise of the movie already held plenty of promise- a hero down to his last limbs, the classic humbling of an egotist. In this case, a cat on his last life. It´s a set-up that´s honestly quite easy for writers to embrace with a straightforward theme: don’t take life for granted. So Dreamworks could’ve settled for the basic and still produced something pretty good but they did. Not. Settle.

Rather than a slow decline towards a humbling, Puss becomes vulnerable within the first 15 minutes when he encounters Death. From there, his identity-burial and trip to retirement set up the story for not just a lesson on appreciating what you have, but also what you can have if you’re willing to change for the better. It´s sweet, and it gets better with the introduction of Perrito.

Ngl, I was a bit skeptical about El Perrito when the movie began. I’m not a fan of perfect gag characters who simply exist for forcing life lessons upon the main characters and a quick laugh. El Perrito could’ve been one of those guys, but he absolutely wasn’t thanks to the way the writers walked the fine line between taking him seriously and as a joke with excellent balance. The scene where he comforted Puss through his anxiety attack was such a fantastic way of not only acknowledging the tangible effects of mental health issues but also the value of mental health care. (Go therapy dogs! <3) Also the humor drawn out of his backstory was absolutely foul in the best way. I probably busted a lung when he started cussing out the Bears.

Speaking of comedy, Big Jack was an unexpectedly hilarious villain. He really reminded me of how refreshing it can be to have a bad guy without a complex backstory, just some grade A asshole who’s never going to be satisfied even if he’s lived the most privileged life. We’ve got plenty of those assholes out here in the real world so its plenty of fun watching their downfall. Loved him and Jiminy´s interactions.

I already knew from the trailer and plenty of tweets that the animation was going to be impressive, but man, there’s nothing like seeing it in person. The fight sequencing was extremely creative and fun from the start. (Puss vs the Sleeping Giant absolutely had to have been inspired by Attack on Titan and we love to see it.) The detailing form Puss´ goosebumps to Goldí´s necklaces made the whole viewing super immersive. And man. The aesthetic choices (like holy cow that one red and black scene were Puss was running from Death in the Cave of lost souls??) were basically perfect. Pretty, intense, the whole package.

The romance between Puss and Kitty was just zesty enough to not be cringe. Tension, pining, sweet interactions… I’m sold. A solid found family with Perrito, but we can’t forget the most lovable and heart wrenching family: Goldi and the Three Bears. The sibling dynamic was both very real and hilarious to watch. But more importantly, Goldi’s gradual realization was a super engaging side plot that added a great parallel to puss. 10/10.

As for Death… goosebumps man. That wolf whistle was chilling- you can’t help but get the same raised hairs as Puss. A damn good take on the Grim Reaper archetype. Everything about him from his design to his lines had me running mental laps in the theater.

Overall, it’s such a relief to see Dreamworks genuinely valuing creative animation and powerful storytelling- they´ve been changing the game ever since Spiderverse came out. They didn’t really have to put their heart and soul into this movie seeing as it´s already part of one of the most cherished franchises ever made, but they did! And the fact that the movie was rooted in earnest passion really shows!

[reamed]

can someone plz cry with me

[ahalliance]

wishing certain qsmp fans a very Stop Being Fucking Misogynists

[solivagantingrebel]

hey guys who wants another round of tmi

[kismetconstellations]

Shiro + ♦️

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Along with his heavily implied (canonical) recurrent insomnia, and carrying so much tension that he unconsciously clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth to the point of discomfort, Shiro's mouth tends to fall open when he is sleeping, because he's unable to get enough air through his nasal passages. The bridge of his nose healed improperly from the injury he sustained during his time in captivity that left him with his prominent facial scar. This improperly healed breakage also causes him to occasionally snore, which startles him out of his sleep, and, to his eternal mortification, drool, thanks to his open mouth. All of which combine with his hypervigilance and fear of being seen as weak and incentivize him to ensure that he's never sleeping where someone else can see him.

When his insomnia is at its worst, and his brain and body are their most restless, he opts for exercise and/or reading (he'll do both simultaneously when he can), charting the stars, and general maintenance check-ins with the Atlas. He refuses to remain idle when he can be useful.

His hobbies consist of listening to classical music (Gustav Holst's The Planets Suite and the selection, Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity, from it, being particular favorites), indulging in Sci-Fi films (with a soft spot for B-movies) and anime, sharpening his skills in all of his personal areas of study (fitness, combat, conflict resolution, Astronomy, Astrophysics, alien languages, intergalactic cultural disparities, obligatory intergalactic cultural and species sensitivity training, Philosophy, meditation, and Altean quintessence alchemy-- something that plays a much larger role in his day to day life than he ever anticipated, since it saved his life, powers his ship and his right arm, and slightly altered his genetic makeup. Plus, learning about it gives him all the more opportunity to spend time with one of his best and dearest friends), and building his own custom hoverbike from scratch.

---

Thank you very much for asking! ❤

[my-thirteenth-reason]

kicking my feet and giggling (<- just got apologised to)

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

Bee and Argie, Billy and Argyle

Arturo Guillermo Franco Valdes.

Arturo Guillermo, and a friend that calls him Guille, Artie, Argie.

A red faced Billy that pronounces Guillermo as ‘Gah-ee-ler-moh’ before learning that ‘ll’ makes a ‘yuh’ sound in Spanish.

Artie calling him Bee-yee, and later Bee, as a joke because of it.

Billy tosses out nicknames like the affection he’s never been sure how to express. But he loves the way his friend's name rolls off his tongue, the syllables strange and clunky and a challenge that Billy readily takes up. Soon, it falls full and melodic from his lips, prettier than any song he's ever heard on the old radio his mom left him with.

Mi amigo, Arturo.

Argie tells him not to sweat it, but Billy doesn’t understand why nobody else seems to want to make the effort. Like it’s too difficult, or like Argie isn’t worth the effort. Most of the other Mexican kids at school already know how to pronounce the names that give their white teachers pause, but outside of that demographic there’s a pathetic lack of effort that incites Billy sometimes. 

“Don’t sweat it, bro. Not everyone can roll their Rs as good as you.”

“What, like it’s hard? Fuckin’ idiots.”

(Years later, when they find each other again, Billy will know why his old friend Argie goes by Argyle, because Argyle will nudge him with a serene little smile of his and say, “Long time no see, Bee. Your ol’ pal Artie Gyle-ermo missed you, amigo.”)

Once, early in their friendship, Billy asks Argie why he has so many damn names. Why does he need like half a dozen of them? And Argie says,

“Well, I dunno. I think it makes me pretty damn special, though. How many ‘Arturo Guillermo Franco Valdes’ do you know?”

“Just you, obviously. But that doesn’t mean much, I don’t know any other ‘William Hargrove’s either.”

“Maybe not. But it’s prolly a lot easier for some random Hargrove to be named Billy than for someone to line up a buncha random names to smash together and create a Franco Valdes named Arturo Guillermo.”

“That ‘random Hargrove’ is me, jackass!”

“Exactly!”

“At least my name’s not a fuckin’ mouthful!”

“Oh, so I’m a mouthful, am I?”

“Fuck you!”

A few months later, well into Billy's friendship with Argyle, the kid invites him over to his place to check out his new bike or something, Billy doesn't remember.

What he does remember is meeting Argyle's dad and paternal grandma, Nana Hermelinda.

It's getting colder, for California at least, and Nana insists on making the kids chocolate abuelita while Argyle's dad is at work. A much richer hot chocolate than Billy is used to, the smell is spicy sweet and warm in the air as it foams up in the pot Nana is using, instead of the mild chemical sweetness of the mugs Billy puts in the microwave when he can sneak a packet of Swiss Miss in the winter. Her worn, wrinkled hands make quick work of it, expertly spinning between them a wooden stick with rotating round bits at the end that goes into the frothy mix. Nana calls it a molinillo when she sees him looking at it, and rather than freeze up over being caught staring, as he normally would, Billy instead finds himself trying to pronounce the new word for the remaining five minutes the chocolate takes to finish. The air feels almost soft around him, pleasantly warm and sweet like cinnamon as Nana lets the mixture cool while she searches for mugs in the cabinet above them. When she offers him his own, a brown mug with a rounded bottom and pretty dotted flower designs on its shiny finish, Billy is shy and hesitant to take it. But the warmth as he wraps his chilly fingers around it is welcoming and its smells so good. The first sip is cautious, slow like he's still unsure about whether he's allowed something so warm and comforting.

It's incredible.

Billy's pretty blue eyes light up like Argyle has never seen before. He can feel his heart thump awkwardly in his chest as those baby blues shine bright in the soft yellow light of the kitchen.

Then Billy lowers the mug, and a little mustache of foamed milk and chocolate lines his upper lip. Argyle quickly forgets the brief stutter of his heartbeat and cackles at the sight.

Billy is too busy having a religious experience over his mug of hot chocolate to bother with telling him to shut up like he normally would, but he doesn't truly mind- he likes the sound of Argie's loud bouncing laughter.

Nana looks fondly at them over her own mug, sitting comfortably on a stool by the kitchen counter as Billy politely thanks her for the drink with what little clumsy Spanish he's learned from Argyle so far. She coos at him, putting down her mug as she answers in a kind, lilting Spanish that Argyle will later tell him roughly means, "Of course, love. Come here whenever you like. I will make you a mug anytime, son." Billy inhales the warm steam wafting up from the mug he holds tight as Nana places a gentle hand on his cheek and calls him mijo.

Years later, Billy still remembers it as one of the last times he'd felt so held and cared for.

[ruiiplume]

So this week in unforgivable fuckery...

[twofacedtitan]

About my girls 💚

I think my best friends are the most beautiful girls in the world. All their "imperfections" sit perfectly on them. When they sing, I try to drown out the music to listen to them. When they join in the laughter I hold my breath to look at how wide they're smiling. When we're walking side by side, I purposefully bump into their arms to see the bounce in their step when they turn to look at me and ask what I wanted to say. I say I didn't have anything to say and that it was an accident and then look at the flow of their hairs when they turn back to the conversation they we're holding with the friend on the other side. When they talk to me, I find myself studying their faces, the movement of their eyes and eyebrows. Sometimes I have to ask them to repeat themselves because of that.

And after school, each four of us having gone out separate ways, one of them probably playing thumb war with her brother on the backseat of the car, another one waiting for the train and the other in the frontseat of her mother's car singing along to White Lies, me at my workdesk (I always get home before them) staring at the limits worksheet on my computer, I think about them. I open Google docs and make them the fearless one woman army with a sword on fire, the bounty hunter that rides a lilac dragon and the fairy princess that holds all music inside her wings, all of them protagonists of a fantasy. I make them the sensible, the sceptical and the compassionate goddesses and queens of a hundred civillizations I imagine. To be by their side, I make myself the witch with a thousand spell and alchemy books, the charming muse of the smaller temple, the travelling Oracle that reads their dreams and brings then their good fortune.

Even when only one of them trusts me to know the timing to cross the street just as the light turns red and the other two stay behind shaking their heads. Even when only one of them wants to go to the playground for kids half out age and do stupid stuff that makes the other two joke about not even knowing us. Even when only one of them sings along to the funny songs by kids' artists that I put on when it's all to silent and the other two ask us to lowers the volume. Even in those moments when they frown and roll their eyes and look exasperated, even then, I love them to the marrow.

So, to you, sensible warrior, thank you for following to the lunch table on that first day of school. And to you, sceptical hunter and compassionate fairy, thank you for letting us sit next to you at that lunch table.

[1800duckhotline]

madonna 2, 5, 9, 10, 12, 15, 16 !!!

GET TO KNOW THE OC ASKS

YAYY Madonna time!

Sorry it took me a bit to get to this. I've been busy but here we go. Madonna lore just for you. You know the drill, this is gonna get long.

2. Is your OC a loner or a social butterfly? Are they satisfied with how they come across to other people?

Madonna is like if an extrovert and an introvert had a baby (unfunny joke but it explains sort of). Due to her past job as a pharmacist and having been part of a corporate environment, being a social butterfly was more or less a requisite, which means through the years she's built up a "social stamina" strong enough to withstand social events that last well over 3 hours. This carries over as Kindred, however, her unlife also warrants a very much welcomed sense of tranquility since she decides when she wants to be social, usually in the context of feeding from willing blood dolls she meets in clubs or with fellow vampires she has an alliance with.

I think you could categorize Madonna as an extroverted introvert, since she definitely treasures her time alone and enjoys distancing herself from socializing for the sake of her own interests.

5. Does your OC have a signature weapon and/or attack? How long did they train to master it?

As Tremere, Madonna has a vast array of Thaumaturgy skills that can aid her in battle - her favorite spell to use is Blood Theft as it is extremely convenient in situations where a lot of spells need to be cast. That said, she tends to make sure she uses as less Thaumaturgy as possible in context where the supernatural isn't involved - and thus relies on her marksmanship skills, which are fairly impressive.

She didn't know a lick of fighting before becoming kindred, so go figure - she has always been a fast learner, so it no doubt helped her in this case.

9. Is your OC laid back or do they thrive on drama? What role do they play in their group of friends/associates?

Madonna is 35 years old in body and spirit and to be fair, she is a woman with a job, even if undead, so she really does not care about drama at all. She's got other shit to do!

Even before the embrace she kept the same kind of attitude whenever it came to her associates at work and outside; people generally regarded her as the aloof cool girl that wouldn't be phased by anything... when, truthfully, Madonna just prefers minding her own business rather than gossip... Like, unless the gossip is necessary for her to complete an important task, she tends to skip it entirely.

10. Is your OC sentimental or pragmatic? Do they keep mementos or only what they need to survive? Have they always been this way or did something happen to make them change?

Before the embrace, Madonna used to be extremely pragmatic. Not entirely to the point of lacking any whatsoever sentimentality but a corporate job will do that to you - it was sucking away at any energy she could dedicate to her feelings, and it really showed in how she behaved whenever something factually exciting or mortifying happened (not necessarily to her, but something like maybe one of her co-workers having a baby, or one of them losing a family member... she used to react very matter-of-factly, not out of malice but because she didn't really have it in her to commit to her full emotions). Her job tended to come first and it was also something of a problem in her familial life, as before becoming a corporate pharmacist she used to be very family-oriented, that with having 3 siblings and elderly parents.

Becoming Kindred turned her way more sentimental. Free of the shackles of her old job, Madonna regained the range of emotions she'd closed herself away from for about the last decade or so... which makes for some fun situations where she reacts immaturely for her age, but makes complete sense when you consider that for her this is like a second adolescence!

Unfortunately, though, even though she truly desires it, she feels like she cannot go back to connect with her family as Kindred. She fears of putting their lives at risk, and especially of compromising the Masquerade since some of the changes that come with being Tremere wouldn't go unnoticed by her family; not to say that they are fairly religious people at heart, and she doesn't wish to destroy the image they have of her as a darling hard-working angel who can do no wrong. This makes her sad, but this is where her pragmatism comes in clutch and reassures her there is simply no way to go around this. Which isn't wrong... though there could be ways, if she put her mind to it!

12. Is your OC cynical or optimistic? Who or what shaped their outlook on life?

I would say she's right inbetween, with a healthy sway towards optimistic. You would think studying medicine would've made her more cynical, which it did at the time, but as a vampire she found things much less grim than she thought they were before.

In general she's always been taught by her family not to look at things with rose-tinted glasses, and it is something she stood by for most of her human life. While they didn't outright encourage her to look at things negatively, they tried to remind her to be objective when it came to most things, especially as she studied medicine. Desmond somewhat reminds her of them in that way, with her special interests revolving around algorithms, mathematics and chess; and while Madonna doesn't think this belief system is wrong, she's found now that being a little more optimistic and carefree never hurts as long as you don't slip into excessive naiveté.

15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?

So I haven't gone in exact detail in my exploration of Madonna's past yet, though I know she's based in LA originally (as she was made for the VTMB setting), and I would say that besides obvious important places she's likely been with with her family, a specific place that holds significant importance to her as Kindred is probably Confession, the club, because that is where she started seeing Desmond and becoming acquainted with her. They may have differing opinions on some stuff but, well, they kind of still have somewhat of a 'whirlind' kind of romance-not-romance going on, so it's definitely a positive association... LOL

16. How does your OC make money? Do they have a respectible profession or work a series of odd jobs? Are they a criminal? Or do they get creative in the pursuit of coin?

I wouldn't say Madonna is a criminal but the legality of some of her operations as an underground pharmacist can be dubious at best. She sells black market pharmaceutical drugs and also substances that aren't for the usual... public use. She also sells concoctions she came up with for other Kindred, as a way to make use of her Thaumaturgy in a similar context to her old pharmaceutical job. So it's... kind of... shady but not straight-up illegal most of the time?

Desmond 100% helps her keep a front so she doesn't have to deal with most legalities even though her chantry likely prohibited her from interacting with Madonna too much (this is Desmond we're talking about though... she has many of her fingers in various different pies).

[bleuberrygliscor]

to find an apartment that works out well for me, only to find the nearly $2,000 unit doesnt even include utilities at ALL or any of the additional fees.

to find the same place has a smaller unit that i can make do with, only for that apartment to go off the market within 5 hours.

to find a similar unit that will cost slightly more but i can still kind of afford if i just live paycheck to paycheck with 0 wiggle room for anything that isnt food/utilities. giving up on every craft or hobby that costs extra money. only to find they want $4,000 upfront to move in with.

[ayosdesignz-blog]

He's had a very tragic and stressful life. I agree.

They practically say as much in show when revealing that his very existence is considered disgusting and "requires" extermination.

And after his mom's death he had absolutely no one he could fully trust or rely on. Not anyone in the village he was raised in until they clearly kicked him out.

Not his own big brother who ignores or maims him in turn with promises of death.

Not any of his demon race of people or his dad's subjects.

Not even his dad's vassals like Myoga. Because while their relationship managed to develop to the point that Inuyasha has learned he could trust in the information he provides, and can relax at the flea demon not being big or strong enough to be a real threat personally, it's clear (to me) he doesn't rely on Myoga at all and his trust is limited.

--- Because again, he'd been alone and lonely from his mother's death up until he hesitantly tried to give a relationship a chance with Kikyo. That means Myoga the flea was so insignificant he couldn't even be relied upon to be a friendly companion. And my theory for why is that since EVERYONE was alwaying gunning for Inuyasha’s death that Myoga would disappear often and rarely showed up due to fear. Which could read as indifference, abandonment, and even agreement to the violence against him to Inuyasha’s eyes.

Inuyasha's life before canon is exceptionally tragic to me.

He was born into grief. His father gave his life for him to be born, and his mother too, though her's was a lengthier death. She gave up her status and any acceptance she might have found, in favor of raising him. After she died, Inuyasha had NO ONE. He was a child, and he was all alone, knowing firsthand that there was absolutely no one in the world who wanted him. In fact, every human and demon he's ever encountered has made it clear they wish he would die, or that he'd never been born.

He has to live with this, knowing that the entire world is factually against his existence.

So he learns to be tough. He grows spines to protect himself and he lashes out first. It's too painful to hope, but he still does. It's too painful to try and connect, but he still does...

In spite of all the anguish and cruelty he has suffered, his heart remains kind. He can't bring himself to hate, the way that they hate him. He was born of love and it lives inside him, protecting him so that he can still be vulnerable, so that he can still find love, in spite of it all.

[8athedingrey]

My tolerance for men is so low.

If you want something casual, tell me. I’ll reject it, but get to the point. Don’t run around and try to be cute bc I’ll stomp on you.

They say the people you date, or attempt to, mirror a deeper part of you.

Are you ffr? All of them are trasshhhh. Get them out of my face. I’m at a point where I’m content on my own. It’s not a form of rejection, but just knowing my value.

I deserve love. I deserve respect. I deserve good things and people.

I will not tolerate any less and will shut down what opposes that.

[nooklingposting]

I just blocked a fandom account for the first time and idk man. I'm sad about it. Gatekeeping a character is just the worst thing to do in an already smallish fandom. I'm the first person to say I get attached to characters and find it frustrating when people don't portray them in the way I see them, but you also have to remember it's just a silly little guy. In a silly little video game.

Have fun with characters! Have fun with OCs! Please! It isn't that deep. I love seeing everyone's art and writings about different characters and relationships they have and how they fit into your world. Seeing someone lose their shit repeatedly over a character not being portrayed by fans the way they personally see them is just so draining. It's also made me shy away from that character a little and I'm so, SO annoyed about that. Literally being pushed out of a fandom I truly love because of some shitty opinions being shouted into the void.

I'm gonna try and work on getting back into them and into the fandom because I'll be damned if they'll take the character away from me permanently, but please just remember:

They're just silly little people. In a silly little game. Or in our silly little heads. It's not that deep.

[anxiouslittlepossum]

"#because she assumed he'd be like everyone else#girl didn't even give him a chance"

And that's the thing isnt it! He wasn't like everyone else.

He tried to be by shit he tried to be but he wasn't and everyone could tell.

Clear neurodivergence aside, he was too kind hearted to every truly hurt a dragon. A golden opportunity, brought to his feet by his own invention, made by his own two hands, victory in grasp to prove to everyone that he wasn't dead weight, that he was as good, better than the rest of them, a dragon slayer, killer of the Night Fury, a dragon nobody could ever even see for more than a second, all the respect he desired...

And he couldn't do it.

Because he was like his mother

He saw the dragons for what they were, he saw Toothless.

And he formed a friendship, a symbiotic relationship with him, they helped and saved eachother.

Together they saved everyone

but before that Hiccup was betraying everyone and everything he knew

most of all his mom, as he knew her.

Because nobody told him that she was trying to stop them from killing dragons. Nobody was going to tell him just how much he is like his mother.

As the series progresses we see how alike he and Stoic are, but Valka? His Mom? In the first movie he is just like her.

But he couldn't know that, because what he knew was that she was taken and killed by dragons to protect him.

That would have felt horrible, believing that he was helping, that his best friend, was the same species that killed his mom, and its no wonder Stoick is so against it and so harsh about it. His wife died to these creatures, to protect their boy, and now that same kid does this

Except all that doesn't fucking matter because Valka is alive and well, abandoning her family because of what she thought her infant son might be like, despite evidence to the contrary.

As we grow up we can change and learn, but there are parts of us that are intrinsically us, that when discussing it with our parents, we can be told that a behavior or something we do now is something we did before we could walk.

This is our Nature, and it holds equal if not a little more weight than Nurture can when forming bits of our personality or behaviors. If you have a dead parent, i can guarantee that you've been told that something you do is just like them, even if you can't remember it.

I wouldn't expect Valka to know this, considering it's the Viking age and psychology wasn't heavily studied by them as far as i know (but it's not like you need a degree to recognize this)

However i do expect a mother to recognize that her child, barely one, but obviously already being told to fear and fight monsters, see the destruction caused by them, instead cooing and loving this giant winged lizard in his house.

He only starts to cry when he gets hurt.

He shows Valka, to her face, his potential. His love. The ability to look beyond the scales and see the intelligence and gentleness a dragon can have.

Hiccup shows her exactly the man he will become.

and she refused to see. instead abandoned him, abandoned her husband and her home on a failure.

She did nothing to prove what dragons were really like that was all Hiccup.

And I cannot stress enough the guilt he must have felt for betraying his mom's memory like that.

But lo and behold, she's fine. Alive and well. And never once even tried to spy on her son to see if he was alive.

She just decided, with no evidence, who he would become, and she left.

She had evidence to his compassion staring her in the face, and she disregarded it.

She abandoned her son for twenty years, because of what she thought he might be like when he was grown.

And she isn't even the one who sought him out.

They stumbled across each other and she is damn lucky he is a forgiving man.

Because what she did? Was shit. No chances, no trying to teach him to become a good person. She gave up on him before he could walk.

Hiccup may have gotten some of his traits from her, but he is who he is, became the man and leader who ended the war with the dragons and saved everyone, built a better world in spite of her, not because of her.

She didn't teach him these things, and her leaving made it harder for him to accept them about himself

His compassion, his kindness, and his love, they are his. He made the world a better place with them, the world his mother wanted.

A world she decided he wouldn't want to create. Based on nothing.

Hiccup is a good person, but that's not something she can claim to have had any hand in.

It is time for my annual reminder that if you ever feel useless, remember you're not Valka who left her infant child who still needed her to go protect the dragons but actually hey they were still very much hunted and misunderstood after her leaving and the way she left made people think she was abducted and possibly killed by dragons

And later it was actually the son she left behind, all nervous awkward and lanky that actually did the productive work of showing that not all dragons are bad

So yh there are worse things to be doing with your life's decisions, uselessly missing your son's growing years for a stupid reason is possibly not one of yours so you're okay

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Perspectives

marshmallow floof plot: Megumi recalls you and Gojo falling in love through his eyes. content: fem! reader, megumi is in denial about caring about Gojo, Gojo is obsesseddddd with you shamelessly, but its okay because so are you with him! warning!: megumi is not good with emotions :/ or tolerating Gojo word count: 5.7k satoru gojo x reader note: can we pretend utahime and gojo are the same age pls and thank u - also i am delusional and in my head suguru did not defect so gojo never had to go thru all of that okay <3333 anywau i hope you enjoy!! put a lot of thought and love into this!

At only six years old, Megumi was already quite intelligent. As an extremely perceptive child, he understood far more than he should have at such an age. Typically, kids his age were naive and gullible; Megumi however was the complete opposite, and that was partially due to his aloofness.

When Satoru Gojo first met Megumi, he felt like he was talking to a grandpa in a miniature body, sassing anyone who dare interact with his little self. As stern and as gloomy as the boy persisted on to be, though, Gojo picked up on hints of tenderness and compassion laced between every word Megumi spoke about his sister, Tsumiki. Easily, Gojo could discern what he deemed too much deeply rooted pain and defensiveness in the young Fushiguro. Having his guard up was engraved into his mind; the wall he placed between him and the world had it's own sector in his immune system and acted with automaticity, an innate defense mechanism.

Despite all of the anguish intertwined in every breath Megumi exhaled, and despite his cold nature he employed to protect himself from being hurt again as he has before; despite being abandoned, and despite not being surprised he was; despite not even hitting double digits, yet already carrying the attitude of a the wisest owl; despite all of the thoughts racing through Gojo's head, he knew Megumi was special. Though a part of it may have been due to the responsibility he felt over the boy after murdering his father, Satoru Gojo was confident in one thing: he would take care of this kid like his life depended on it.

From then on, Gojo took the role of Megumi's benefactor, funding him and his sister so that they could live without worry. Megumi begrudgingly allowed him to endow his life, though it was rather difficult. The guy was so over-the-top and bothersome when he decided to actually go and physically check up him. Visits from were sparse, though, if Megumi really cared or needed anything, Gojo was always a text away.

And soon he would learn that you were, too.

The first time your existence was brought to Fushiguru's attention, it was mildly unintentional on Gojo's end. He was completing his routine check-in on Megumi about six months after taking him under his wing, ensuring he was doing fine in school - other than the fights he found himself in every now and again, of course. And after everything checked out okay, he rambled on about his week and how exhausting it was being the strongest, greatest individual to exist in this time and how much Yaga has been up his ass since he was promoted to principal and blah blah blah...

"Can you believe he was expecting me to get to the school before nine A.M.? Hah! Funny man. I need my beauty sleep. How else would I always look this handso- Oh!"

Megumi, who was in no way religious, praised in that moment whatever God up above sent a call to Gojo's phone at that exact moment, for he failed to believe he could have pretended to listen to another second of his unimportant and unnecessary rant. It truly was over-the-top, and Megumi was not a fan. He had never, nor did he think he would ever, warmed up to the way Gojo's ego seems to make a nearly empty room feel claustrophobic.

"Heyyyyy!" Gojo dragged, acting like a highschool girl with the way he twirled the end of his hair and giggled at whoever was at other end of the phone. If Megumi cared to look closely enough (which he totally doesn't, since he is so disinterested in Gojo and does not dare to look at him too long or he will automatically become annoyed), a rosy hue could barely be seen on the apples of the older man's cheeks, growing more and more apparent the longer the phone call went on.

Obviously, Megumi did not want to listen to the likely boring conversation, but since he was stuck in the same room as Gojo, he had no other choice but to eavesdrop on the phone call. Or, more accurately, he was playing detective to solve the mystery of who on the other end was transforming Gojo, as childish as he is, into a tweenage boy talking to a cute girl for the first time.

"I'm with Fushiguru, actually," Megumi overheard, his interest only minutely piqued after hearing his name. Whoever was on the other end must have known who he was already given the way Gojo did not feel the need to elaborate on who exactly Fushiguru was. That irked Megumi.

"Yeah, just hanging out, you know. I'd say we're best buds! Right, Megumi?" Gojo moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the boy across from him expectedly.

"No," is all Megumi spoke in response.

Gojo's eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a response, before he laughed and continued, "Silly guy! Such a silly guy."

The call took way too long and Megumi was half tempted to leave the room, but he was still getting used to Gojo and did not fully understand what his role was in his current situation. Was Gojo considered a houseguest? Was Megumi supposed to have something prepared as a thank you? Even if he was, he wouldn't do that for Gojo. What if something went wrong, or Gojo did something stupid? Tsumiki was at her after school club, being the natural social butterfly she was. Megumi had assumed the role of the man of the house at merely seven, and he was not going to disappoint her or let anything go haywire on his watch. This was his roof, and nothing would happen to their humble little abode under his watch.

Finally, Gojo said his goodbyes to whoever he was speaking to, set his phone down, and sighed in the most i-must-be-living-in-a-daydream-because-there-is-no-way-life-can-be-this-good-and-i-am-so-in-love-but-i-dont-even-know-it sort of way.

"You would like her," Gojo broke the silence after a few moments of savoring the butterflies in his stomach.

"Who was that?" Megumi queried, and if Gojo listened closely, he could hear echos of intense interest in the boy's simple question.

"A friend from work."

"You don't have friends."

"Hey!"

-----

After your existence was brought to light, it became a thing that whenever Gojo visited, he spent half the time on the phone - whether texting or on a phone call, it didn't matter. He was always talking to you.

Megumi supposed he should have felt grateful since Gojo finally became less unbearable. His check-ins, although hard to predict when they would be or how long in between they would reoccur, became less about how much Gojo loves himself and more about... well, you. It was a nice change from hearing his neverending egocentric comments, to be fair. Megumi was not complaining.

"You remember her, right, Megumi?" he asked while walking Megumi home from school one day. He was on a tyrant about something that had happened at Jujutsu High a few days prior before realizing he might had forgotten about the most important detail: you. The chance that Megumi may not even know who he was speaking about generated a sharp gasp escaping from Gojo's lips.

"Yes. She's all you talk about," Megumi deadpanned. What a stupid question, the boy thought to himself, when Gojo asked this every single time he bothered to show his face around here.

Gojo chuckled, responding in a voice that was way up in the clouds, as if he was skipping through a meadow abundant with good feelings and the potential for new relationships, "Hm, yeah. I guess you're right! Sorry, kid. Just had to make sure you knew."

At this point, Megumi learned a lot about you: You taught second-year sorcerers at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you went to Kyoto Jujutsu High, you were in same year as Gojo was, you were acquaintances for a while, your best friend (unfortunately so, as Gojo whined when he told Megumi) was Utahime, who was oddly protective of you and rude for no reason to Gojo (it is most definitely within reason), you were the most selfless person to walk the surface of this planet, you cared more for others than for yourself, and you and Gojo were really, really, really good friends now that you worked together and you two were close and he was friends with you and you texted him all the time and hung out too and you spent time together and you are theprettiestpersonhehadeverplacedhissixeyeson-

Basically, Megumi knew more about you than he comfortably should, and you were all Gojo seemed to talk about now.

Megumi found it sort of... endearing how much Gojo spoke about you. For someone so certain in himself and all of his glory, it was nice to hear him talk about someone else that way. He discerned an innocent intent in Gojo's actions, from the soft grin that graced his face when he rattled on about you, to the way he had begun to ask eight-year-old Megumi for advice on women (which he has surprisingly been helpful with - especially the time when Gojo didn't know if you'd prefer a specific flavor of mochi over another, and Megumi's suggestion ended up being the perfect one because it was your favorite). And though he would never, ever utter the words out loud, Megumi enjoyed hearing Gojo talk about you. It brought him down to earth and made him feel more like a mortal being; even Satoru Gojo crushed, fawning over you like you were a brand new toy and he was a toddler unwrapping gifts on Christmas Day. Even the man who had everything in the world simply wanted just like the rest of the world; he yearned for things in life that he did not ("Not yet, but surely soon!" Megumi was certain Gojo would say if he could read minds) have.

The two boys sat together at Megumi's, eating some sweets Gojo brought back from his mission. Gojo had a bouquet of flowers set delicately on the table in front of him, preparing himself to go to your house after his pep talk with Megumi and ask you on a date. Finally.

Staring at the flowers beside him, Gojo resolved to pick a flower out of the bouquet; a pretty, pale pink daisy that reminded him of the shade of your cheeks when he teased you. He rolled the green stem of the daisy back and forth between his index finger and thumb while echoing the declarations of his planned speech confessing his feelings for you. He had his heartfelt soliloquy memorized, but he was still feeling... apprehensive.

"She loves me," Gojo began, plucking a petal off of the flower and setting it delicately on the table. He spoke lowly, as if his life depended on the resolution he would find when he would extricate the last of the daisy's petals.

Megumi looked up from the book he was reading - a true crime mystery he had been quite invested in - to figure out what the man next to him was doing.

"She loves me not," Gojo plucked another petal, placing it on top of the other one he had already taken off.

Ah, Megumi understood it now. He's transforming into a child; his obsession with you had turned his brain to mush. He had now, mentally, been beat by Megumi, descending into the intellect a five year old smitten with a kindergarten crush.

"She loves me!" Gojo chirped. He plucked another petal before reporting with a glum tone, "She loves me not."

This went on and on. Megumi observed without a word and Gojo continuing the game that is so typically played on on a children's playground.

How on earth did you have such a drastic effect a man so above the rest of society? The man put on a pedestal by all of the Jujutsu world; the one who could take on any obstacle and leave without a scratch; the same guy who died and brought himself back to life; he could isolate himself from the rest of the world in an instant using only his limitless technique, yet, you always found a way to draw him back him - and somehow, somewhere in the mix, you had The Strongest Sorcerer wrapped around your finger.

"She loves me, Megumi!" Gojo proclaimed when he picked the final petal from the flower. "I mean, of course she does. Look at me."

Ah, there was the daily dose of Gojo's big ego; his head was as inflated as expected, but was on display little later than usual. Megumi referred to it as The Daily Dose of Gojo: DDG. He was bound to hear at least once a day about how much Gojo loved himself, whether through text or in person. But today, it was more like he was venturing to persuade himself on that fact, too.

Megumi then realized that this was the first time he had seen Gojo nervous.

He wondered what about you could make Gojo nervous, because not even the strongest of curses causes The Strongest Sorcerer to break into a sweat. What exactly is it that you have that grants you the title of the one human who could make Satoru Gojo nervous? He understood that you were special to him, but he still had never met you, and he is starting to want to.

He wasn't sure why he felt so protective over you. You were a twenty-year-old woman who he has never even met in person, even though he knew from Gojo the color of your eyes and the smell of the perfume you always wore. One thing was for sure, though: if Satoru Gojo messed with your heart, Megumi would fight him with all of the effort his child body could exert in one go, then kick his ass all the way to the core of the earth to be at such a heat that his infinity disfunctioned, ensuring he suffers for ever even considering toying with your feelings.

-----

"Fushiguru!" Gojo hollered as Megumi exit his elementary school.

Megumi glared at the white-haired male as he stalked toward him, untrusting of the motives at play. Gojo watched the child over the rims of his sunglasses, a toothy smile spread across his face while he waved excitedly. He had something planned, as per usual.

"What do you want?" Megumi groaned, and he eyed the two individuals in front of him with suspicion, though he already had an idea on who you were.

It was an uncommon sight for him to be picked up from school, but for Gojo to be accompanied by someone other than Ijichi was borderline shocking. There was only one person you could be, however, and Megumi suppressed the fluttering of excitement he felt as he saw you.

"Hey! Rude to speak to your elders like that," Gojo jested flippantly. "I want you two to meet!"

Fushiguru listened as Gojo repeated every syllable of your name that he has repeated a million times before. It rolled smoothly off of his lips, like caramel drizzle on the sweetest treat from his favorite bakery. It has been about two months since you, somehow willingly, agreed to a date with Gojo. It has been about a month since you agreed to officially be his girlfriend, which Yaga was not the most pleased to hear, but Gojo dealt with that and ensured the security of both of your jobs.

"Hi, Fushiguru!" You waved, a wide smile adorning your face. "Nice to meet you! Gojo talks about you all of the time."

"Hi," Megumi quietly said. He suddenly felt shy in your presence. You stood in front of him in all of your beauty, with the kindest smile on your face and the softest look in your eye, gazing at him as if he were the most important person in the world. Gojo did not do you justice when describing you to him.

And suddenly, everything Gojo ever said about you made complete sense - now, he finally understood how even the famed Satoru Gojo fell victim to the enigma that was you.

"I'm a friend of Gojo's! I wanted to meet you, and I don't know if you would want to, but I would love to get to know you," you offered. You folded your hands together in front of you and smiled politely toward the young boy. You were doing your best to not look too nervous because you really did want to get to know this kid, but from what Gojo's told you, he was not the most sociable character. Something about his melancholy aura is rather intimidating, to say the least, and you were doing your best to accommodate.

"...will he be there?" the kid questioned after some thought. As he spoke, he pointed his thumb toward his benefactor who immediately took offense to whatever he was implying, whining loudly in the background of what had become the two of yours conversation.

"Who, Gojo? Oh, well, he doesn't have to be," you suggested over Gojo's objections. "It can just be you and me. Or, if you are more comfortable with it, he can come with-"

"No. No Gojo," he interrupted. Gojo continued in his protests, but they all drowned into white noise as Megumi continued. "But sure."

You craved so badly to smile widely, high five Gojo for the feat you just accomplished, jump up and down, and display your excitement for his agreement on your face. But you were so worried you would scare him off, so instead, you opted for a soft smile while you said, "Great! Is now okay?

"Sure," he returned, emotionless as always.

"Perfect. Your pick on what we do. And it's on Gojo!"

And you walked away, ignoring Gojo whining after you. You'd coddle him tonight when he would inevitably pout to you about abandoning him for a little kid. For now, though, the important task at hand was getting to know Megumi Fushiguru - who reluctantly held your hand as you walked to the arcade he selected.

From then on, you were a common face in Megumi's life.

When he was in fourth grade, the two of you started a tradition where every other week, you would pick him up early from school and get ice cream and talk (as much as Megumi was willing to, at least). You had surprised him after school one day a couple months ago, and the routine stuck after he asked you to go again the couple weeks later. Not that you ever complained - you would never in your right mind take for granted Megumi willingly hanging out with you.

"So, how has school been?" you probed, Megumi begrudgingly held your hand as you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo (he claimed he was old enough to walk on his own, but you told him it was just for your own sanity in the scary world of Tokyo and when he turned ten you wouldn't do it anymore, and who was he to deny you of peace of mind when that is all you ever wished upon everyone els?).

"Fine," Megumi muttered. He was not the most fond of crowds, which was glaringly obvious as he squeezed your hand more aggressively the farther you ventured into the city. So yeah, maybe he did kind of appreciate your overprotectiveness.

That was the day you learned Megumi had his first crush.

Well, okay, it wasn't really a crush. He just thought someone was cute.

As you sat side-by-side, he ate his vanilla ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles, you ate your choice of ice cream, and the two of you chatted - meaning you talked, and he occasionally threw in a word or two.

"Any girls you think are cute? Or guys?" You sought, emphasizing the teasing nature of your question by tapping your elbow into his side. Megumi glared up at you through the strands of his hair, but you could see the red tint on his pale skin - a sign you were on to something. "Ooooh! Tell me all about them!"

"Stop it," he sulked and stared off into the distance, ice cream forgotten in his hand. You could tell he was thoroughly embarrassed, but you just could not for the life of you get over how adorable he looked.

"Aw, Megumi. I'm just teasing. But you can always talk about that with me, you know?" you offered. "I can give you all the advice on girls. I would not recommend asking Gojo about them. His flirting skills are... unconventional. Plus, I know I'm your favorite. So just gives an excuse to rub it in his face!"

"Thanks," Megumi spoke broodingly. His ice cream was starting to melt a little down the side of the waffle cone. The treat regained his attention as he finally noticed the melting mess, and immediately, he tackled cleaning it up. He hated messes.

"So... does that mean I'm your favorite?" you interrogated. This had been a debate between you and your boyfriend for a long time now.

"Sure."

And amongst the crowds of people, you - a full grown adult - hollered and jumped up and pumped your fist in satisfaction, because that was the best thing anyone had every said to you.

-----

Megumi took back whenever he had the ignorant thought that Gojo was becoming more bearable. Completely rescinded it. He was absolutely the most unbearable human to ever have walked this planet; residing in the same millennia as this man was barely tolerable, let alone inhaling the same air or sitting in the same room.

Gojo wanted to propose to you and he wouldn't stop talking about it.

Or asking Megumi for advice.

Yeah. Satoru Gojo was asking an eleven-year-old boy for help proposing to his long-term girlfriend.

You had been dating for over three years, and Gojo was growing impatient; he wanted you to be fully his. Not that you weren't already, but he wanted to be officially - by the law, by the symbol of marriage, and by the ceremony that accompanied it. He wanted you to take his name and be a new addition to the Gojo lineage, and if it came to the day, maybe add some little ones to the family. It was getting the point where want wasn't enough to describe how he felt - it was a necessity to marry to, to be yours forever.

Megumi had grown a lot closer with you with the past months, even opening up a little. He mentioned to you his internal debate regarding "good people" and "bad people", to which you listened, you heard him, and you cared. Genuinely. You hugged him, and in that moment, he felt so loved, he never wanted to leave your arms - the arms that would protect him from anything scary, like nightmares or curses, and shield him from experiencing any more hardships. He wasn't used to that - yeah he had his sister, whom he loved so dearly and she did in return, to be cared by a motherly figure was something he had barely experienced.

For the life of him, he could not figure out how or why you willingly, even happily, subjected yourself to the hinderance that was Gojo. Every time he asked you why, you respond, "Oh, Megumi, you're a funny one!" and laughed the heartwarming laugh that made him feel like home. Megumi knew, deep down somewhere he wouldn't ever like to admit, that you were happy, and Gojo made you happy. He knew you loved Gojo. He was fully aware of all of that. And he had witnessed as your relationship grew more serious with time Gojo beginning to think for more than just himself - he grew as an individual, doing what he thought was best for the ones he loved, rather than what suited him best. Megumi knew that come to it, Gojo would lay down his life for you. If it meant making a deal with the most dangerous curse, or if it meant sacrificing his soul, Gojo would do it for you, and honestly, Megumi had the inkling that Gojo would do it for him too.

"What if I have a plane do the whole 'marry me?' in the sky? Ugh, but that is so overdone. I need to be creative and go all out for her. What do you think, Megumi?" Gojo inquired, to which Megumi only tuned back in because he heard the sound of his name.

"Just ask her. You know she'll say yes," Megumi grumbled what he already knew was fact.

"Well, of course she will. Who would turn down my handsome self?" Gojo gestures to his person, a confident smile on his lips. "But you're right. Ugh, Megumi, what do I do?" Gojo held an ebony ring box, anxiously passing it from one hand to the other and back, the piece of jewelry it contained an indicator of how serious he was about this. Why he was carrying such an expensive ring around so casually was beyond Megumi's pay grade, but he knew Gojo would not let anything happen to it.

"You'll figure it out," Megumi said, as he had no ideas either - you deserved everything in the world, and no proposal or material thing would be enough to thank you for all you have done for everyone else.

"Oh my god, I did!" Gojo jumped from his seat, giddy as a little kid, and celebrated whatever idea he came up with. He placed the ring box in his pocket, where he would protect it with every cell in his body.

"Great," Megumi said. He prayed to himself that Gojo would now finally get out of his hair.

"I'll take her on a nice trip - she's always wanted to sightsee in Europe, but hasn't had the time - and then, once we land in Greece, I'll do it there and- and I'll leave it at that. Don't wanna spoil the surprise yet for everyone. Thanks Megumi!"

And Megumi smiled a tiny little smile to himself as Gojo exited his house, excited for the two of you.

And he congratulated you when you came home from the trip Gojo planned for the two of you. You visited him and ran up, showing off the ring you were sure Gojo spared no expense on. Though, Megumi had already seen it from the hundreds of times Gojo showed him it, and not to mention all the pictures you send him from overseas.

And he continued to be excited for you as he helped you with planning - because if there is one thing to know about Megumi, it's that he is organized. So he helped you figure your ceremony out by ensuring all the paperwork you had and the appointments you booked and all of your purchases were kept track of, or else the wedding would have been a disaster. If Gojo asked him for help, though, he would laugh in his face and say absolutely not.

And then, before he knew it, the wedding was there. Megumi was the ring bearer, of course. He was almost 13 at that point, and he was starting to grow into himself and show signs of growing up (puberty!).

He felt... happy.

Happy for you. Happy for the new and official makeshift family that established itself. Happy to know that you were genuinely happy, and that for all of the love you constantly gave to others without hesitation, someone gave finally was giving you that love back, and then some. Because he saw how much Gojo adored you, and honestly, there was no one else he would want to be with you.

Now he stands, at Tokyo Jujutsu High for his first year at the school. His benefactor who drives him up the wall is his teacher, and now, not only does he have to deal with him normally, but he actually has to listen to him.

But at least you're there too. He has you, always.

And for that, he smiles. A rare smile reserved for the sparse moments where he is genuinely happy - and he is, because he knows you'll save him from Gojo if he needs you to.

The improvised family he's found himself in may not be exactly what he dreamed of, but he's happy with it nonetheless.

And he still struggles with the dilemma of what is good or bad, and he still struggles to find his purpose in the world, and he is still angry at the universe for putting him in this world when there was no reason for him to be there, and he still struggles with the pain of abandonment and his found comfort in solidarity.

But that's okay. It'll be okay. He has you. He has you because Gojo brought you into his life.

He's grateful for that.

Megumi hopes one day he can find the love you share for himself. But that's a problem for the distant future. And when he has another crush, you will be the first to know - not because he would admit it to you, but because somehow, you always know. You know him better than he knows himself at this point, and it's a scary talent you have, but one you most definitely possess.

With that, Megumi steps forward, walking alongside you into the building he will be at almost everyday for the next few years. While he wasn't holding your hand like old times, it was okay. Because he was growing up, and he had a future ahead of him that made you so excited for him.

"I'll see you later, Meg. Got a long day ahead," you bid farewell and ruffle his hair. The two of you stop in the barren hallway facing each other, and you are disappointed at how he keeps growing, and at some point in the near future, he will surpass your height. It feels like you're shrinking, honestly, with how fast he's growing.

But you always knew he would at some point, just like you knew that he would one day decline holding your hand while in public, and how one day he would outgrow your ice cream runs (though they still happen every now and then, just not as frequent as in the past).

"See you," Megumi responds.

"Love ya!" You lean and place a chaste kiss on the side of Megumi's head. You remember when you used to be able to place one on the top of his head without going on your tiptoes, but times are changing, or you're shrinking or whatever, and the side of the head will do.

"Yeah, love you, too," Megumi says, rushing the end of the sentence and turning around to walk away. You say it to him so often, and he loves you, but it's still difficult for him to express that.

But that's okay. It's all okay.

He knows whatever is in the future, you will protect him, and Gojo will watch over him, and everything will be okay. The two of you will love him unconditionally, even if he struggles to say it back.

And he'll never admit it, but if there is one thing he's grateful for in life, it's Gojo, for he brought you into his life, and what a blessing it is to exist at the same time as you do.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, staring at the three individuals in front of you. "You sent Megumi alone to find Sukuna's finger at some school, which was taken by random students who tried to unravel it, which ended in this kid-"

"Yuji Itadori, sensei!" Yuji introduces himself, saluting to you for some reason.

"Right. Itadori ate the finger. Sukuna's finger. And he is now Sukuna's vessel."

"Yup!" Gojo confirms and he gives you a thumbs up. "That about sums it up."

"So tell me why when I asked about three hours ago why all of the higher-ups were acting like they were shitting themselves, you didn't think to tell me what happened?" you ask, irritation with your husband woven in between every syllable you speak.

"I did, but I knew it would be fine, so I didn't want to worry you."

"Worry? Really? Do you know how worried I was when they said Sukuna was there?"

"Honey, you know I'm strong. I can face him."

Itadori looks to his new comrade, Fushiguru, to see if he was uncomfortable to watch the couple argue in front of them. He fails to be consoled when he sees Megumi wasison his phone nonchalantly as if nothing's wrong. Yuuji assumes Megumi was just tuning them out as a student being used to teachers bickering, so he decides to try to do the same. But it's not working.

"I don't care about your strength, I care about Megumi, and I care about the lives of those students, and-"

"Hey, Fushiguru?" Itadori says, and Megumi hums in response. "Is this normal?"

"-they were put at risk, Satoru! Do you understand that?"

With the couple continuing to argue in the background, Megumi looks up from his phone finally, answering, "Huh, this? Yeah. Get used to it. He's an idiot."

"Yes, baby, I understand, but I made a judgement call and I stand by that. I'm sorry-"

"Ah. Well, um. Can we leave? Do we have to stay?"

"-for not keeping you informed, but I promise you, I had it under control."

"Yeah. They won't even notice we're gone until one of them asks for our opinion and then they notice we're missing. It's just funny to watch them sometimes."

"The higher ups want to execute him! An innocent kid! And I know you got sweets in the middle of all of that. Are you serious-"

"You're used to this?" Itadori inquires, a naturally curious kid.

"-ly telling me that nothing different could have been done to prevent this?"

"I guess you could say that."

rawrrrr thank u for reading i love you SMMMM i loved writing this hehee <33333