#the changing pronouns are on purpose

[soloragoldsun]

Do ya'll ever stop and think about how everything Naoto feared surrounding being outed as a girl came true?

Like, one of the first things to happen is that she gets signed up by Yosuke to be in a beauty pageant against their will and had to dip out in order to avoid being forced to wear a SWIMSUIT in front of everyone!

And in their romance route, where you HAVE to jump to her defense, she's furious that she "became" a girl, only to have a man immediately rushing to defend him.

Naoto is encouraged to accept herself how she is, but is immediately objectified and infantalized by those around them. The romance route focuses on "changing" him, even though most moments that focus on their feminine aspects are filled with discomfort or apprehension.

Just a thought. Naoto deserves better. That's my TED talk.

[lovedtogekiss]

sniperspy

[skuaclan]

Moon 2.

[ratcandy]

i wish everyone who purposefully misgenders nonbinary characters goes to hell no matter what

[silmarillaure]

Imagine Gil-Galad saying this to Fingon about Maedhros...

[fischlcatgirl]

My least evidence based headcanon rn... trans girl childe

[greencloakedfae]

I wish more ppl would see 'any pronouns' and actually go wild with it. Like yeah I like they/them and I'll tolerate she/her, but man if more people would use he/him or even use some neo pronouns for me I'd give them the biggest smooch every fr

[unproduciblesmackdown]

further thoughts re: [idea behind mitb] & [winston billions]

that ofc the specific situation of mitb of even being so thrown into a seismic shift in perspective in this moment, brought on by like whoa what if actually being alone / rejected by the person who was always on my side, like winston in canon can't ever be in that position lmao like even with the continual [people turn on him] moments, nobody was ever actually on his side in the first place & people only Turn from [less of negative attention upon him] to [more]

But then pointing to like wait, one thing, the very ending: all you know about me is my name / awesome party, i'm so glad i came [cha cha cha] like assign that to winston's departure from straightforward in-office employee with the fun details of: • we don't even know his name, rare No Last Name Ever Bothered With for any recurring character, much less one who's been around for seasons. just quant things • probably only any party b/c he arranged it for himself (what arrogance, as opposed to being pointedly ignored / denied baseline acknowledgments as deserved) & • nonzero people pointedly refusing to attend b/c they hate him more than anything, as opposed to the people who do attend to express hostility & contempt as per the I'm The Ultra Cool Guy Normal Person(tm) ideal of "if i interact with / observe someone & consider them such a Lesser / Other to me & issue whatever disparaging cues, any third parties would totally recognize my superiority" uhh nnnyeThis guy, umm ohh kayyy lol. scoff sneer etc. Extremely epic yes

also shoutout to billions for both Needing to show us that "uh lol winston can't just Get to Leave" expression of contempt / vicarious power trip But also that's not enough lmfao like he really can't get to leave, casting its yugioh card of "essence of [most dangerous time in an abusive relationship? trying to leave it]" like again, You Don't Get To, then Uh Oh winston in leaving is not only acting without permission but in doing so is denying us our property! time for some assaulting & stalking & killing :) figuratively we swear but who would know what nonexistent mitb happens :)) wheee haha Hell yeah so affirmed & fulfilled in our power & superiority. wretchedly like why is this also what happens with wendy & axe at the end of s5 as axe resents wendy not acting like his property / without his permission & gets vindictive & aggressive & it's like okay well with the stalking & surveilling in the mix i'm sure wendy will now finally get to be Done. wrong! reveling in romance (dragged over glass) as wendy is sooo special that she can still just Understand & Choose Loyalty even as unideal as axe was, truly, she's powerful enough to handle axe :) unlike other bitches who'd get all hysterical & give up. selfish

also speaking of the "you have to pay attention & listen to how this guy feels for 5 minutes" like with pointed [my personal perspective & considering Just Like Real Life] i don't like, especially with canon, really have that for winston in terms of like that even if people Had to listen, which would be the only way they did b/c winston Does express how he feels at all & it gets pointedly ignored / suppressed / punished, like they wouldn't change their perspective lol. when i consider "well winston could hope they would, think they might, want & try for this" like i don't consider that it would work lol, definitely not based on canon dynamics, where Just Like The Perspective Of The Show Itself like winston can seize some opportunity & express himself "perfectly" but it wouldn't work b/c everyone's already decided to think of him as inferior & not a person & will continue choosing to do so / choosing to play into the idea of their superiority rather than letting it be threatened, much less embracing that & questioning themselves / that concept. Oops Same Essence once again when like all that's questioned about Power is that only Meritous, Truly benevolent godlike individuals ought to have it :) no problems detected when wendy is really exactly the same as prince b/c of course she'd have to be when it's just "nothing wrong with seeing people as inferior, in fact it's inevitable & necessary & good & we love it, just so long as Really superior people are correctly arranged in the hierarchy over Really inferior 'people' who i'm not really hurting or wronging or using when they bring it upon themselves & are wrong in their lesserness"

so like shoutout again to "billions is like, the song 'be more chill' in be more chill, seeing the squip as the protagonist like yes wheee yay tell jeremy everyone's right to treat him as they do & he brings it upon himself & should be dead & twist his arm however you want to get this" only i think in bmc you can interpret that the squip really does want to "redeem" jeremy by forcing him to become a different person & all & just conform to the norm & play & win the game....billions might Supposedly want that, framing wendy using & toying with other people's lives & feelings as she sees fit as Necessary, Correct, & Magnanimous, but really like oh no wendy doesn't even really "fix" people b/c welp there's still the hierarchy of ranking on everyone's Inherent unequal personhood & we can't all be the most special best person in the world like wendy but she can Redeem us a little bit if we're not the lost causes too inferior to recognize & defer to Her superiority. plus she's busy with the enrichingly complicated & important cases of: enabling someone like axe :) like billions is just into the power trip really of like "wow yeah you're correct in judging that person as inferior & bringing it upon themself" & "really" fixing someone by killing them & replacing them with an allistic person e.g. isn't actually of that much interest b/c then the power trip would, theoretically, be done with. no thanks

meanwhile perhaps some restraint for this last point brought on by Oops already verbalizing a lot but the one thing i did only just think of was like, obviously winston comparable to jeremy & the material surrounding jeremy But i was like oh hey i kind of think of the winston & tuk dynamic as glimpsed in canon & extrapolated upon thusly as respectively michael & jeremy esque & sure never framed it that way to myself lol. this duo of like the ultimate losers around but who can kind of obviously also bond / deliberately unionize over this; winston as the "well they'll treat me like this either way so i may as well do my own thing fully at least" more confident one while tuk is similar enough & it's like oh i can be not just myself but More myself with this person than maybe i even am Alone alone & we like each other & have fun & i'm encouraged &c & so on, being a bit more "ah jeez :( i do kind of try to see if i can manage to play by the rules better & maybe be killed less," & even sure have thought about the conflicts that could arise as like "yeah it's good if winston being around me can kind of insulate me & involve encouragement But Then Also downsides like, can it feel overbearing if just feeling eclipsed by winston's personality, if feeling like yeah following winston's lead helps me but what if that defines me too much / what about getting by outside that, can encouragement from that Confident Vivacious personality feel pushy?" all very much like that conflict jeremy & michael have of jeremy wanting to change things up & figure out his relationship with himself & what he can do through that a little bit more, hardly able to express that to himself much less michael, michael who doesn't know quite what's going on & but of course is also affected by how people treat him, as we did know but yknow impossible to have real serious feelings & act vivacious & cheerful, & feels supported by his relationship / dynamic w/jeremy too....wouldn't be the same b/c there's no high school scifi plot & also like, no [um frivolous teen problems are for teens only. adults don't do the bullying & popularity & insecurity &c] as has been said lol like it doesn't just Stop, but that like they Are older so probably could have an at all easier & more successful time talking through things & understanding their own feelings, but always fun to imagine some drama & conflict sure lol like even just a period of some Confusion / Mixed Feelings like ah new good friends with tuk but maybe tuk withdraws / avoids winston a bit then to try to take a breath & get perspective from a step back, maybe it can seem to winston like we're having a good time what a promising new relationship but then sudden/confusing irritation with me / some apparent rejection, an easy issue is just like as seems to be canon lol like well nobody's known winston for eons here, just met, winston's Already got the independently big personality / doing his own things mode, could be hard to warm up to that / even Understand it, especially in [hierarchy play the game kill each other it's them or you] bullying world anyway. however also tuk has ben who is also sort of relatively on the Less outwardly bold seeming side who is also there to buffer or insulate or intervene, But that can also just be [same issue parallel to jeremy/michael] lmao like does it mitigate it or exacerbate it or bit of both / varyingly, depending. do we all kiss at the same time

[rnaeborowski]

mom didn't misgender me today :')

[flecks-of-stardust]

shaking sig like a dog toy

[vanweezer]

why is everyone who makes videos abt ******* transphobic like

[wearysparrows]

My First, My Only, My Last

ao3/masterlist

Summary: With the passing of time, your dragon has grown to expect your touch. He is like clay in your hands, and you mould him.

CW: fluff, cuddling & snuggling, some suggestive themes, you caress your dragon, very touchy feely, dragon Sylus, no use of pronouns or Y/N 1K

As of late, your dragon had begun to change.

Not of his physicality – he still radiates an imposing heat, sharp edges ready to eviscerate anything that comes too close. Lives shudder and end tremulously under his claws.

Well, all except for yours.

No longer was he wary of your approach. He welcomed it, pulling you closer with the powerful muscles of his tail, as if he could crush you to himself and make two into one. His gifts, too, changed with him. Instead of gold – flowers whose blooming you had never known, the songs of birds, delicacies from far away lands. Things you knew he desired to share and understand, together.

You approach him, now. He was lounging much the same way he did when you had first met – on a throne cast in stone. Since your arrival, however, it had been covered with the softness of furs and silks to aid in your comfort. The only light in the cave came from flickering sconces adorning the walls. His shadow flutters underneath them.

He supports his head with one hand, and the tip of his tail twitches to and fro at the sound of your approach. He turns over to face you. The mark of his teeth on your neck stutters with the briefest of pains. As you come within his proximity, his tail slips around to the small of your back, and bids you come closer, as if your pace wasn’t quick enough for him. It stays there, caressing your spine with its heat. In the flash of his eyes you see his barely concealed amusement, excitement at your encroachment on his space. His youth.

“Approaching a dragon with nothing to defend yourself? How bold.”

His voice, bereft of malice, and full of tender warmth. You kneel onto the throne beside him, notching yourself between the gentle curve of his legs and torso. He makes room for you, and his tail follows your movements, now curled possessively around you. You feel the scales of it touch the soles of your bare feet.

“I have no fear.”

His quiet laugh reverberates through his chest and into you from where your forms connect. You take one of his hands into your lap. He lets you.

“Are you certain that’s wise?”

His hand uncurls and curls around nothing in your lap. The collective warmth of your bodies pools beneath you through the furs, warming your calves.

“I have no need for wisdom. I know you as I know myself.”

You massage the soft web of a junction between his thumb and index finger, encouraging the muscles there to loosen under your touch. The same motion is repeated between each tendon – index and middle, middle and ring, and ring and pinky. The scaley pads of his palms were like leather softened with age and use – well loved. His fingers twitch reflexively as you maneuver them. He carefully avoids puncturing your skin with the sharpness of his claws.

“What is the purpose in this?”

You hear the ingenuousness in his question. He doesn’t pull away.

“Pleasure.” You say.

A word he understands. This seems to compel him, and he rolls onto his back. His hands wrap around your waist, and deposit you into a straddle on top of him. His hold on your middle doesn’t cease. His back is supported by the stone arm of the throne behind him, and only a few inches of space is left between your faces. Gone were the usual slits of his pupils, now blown wide with a blackness that nearly dwarfed the ruby of his eyes entirely.

“Like this?” He accentuates the statement with a roll of his hips into yours, eliciting a responsive heat from your body. You steady him underneath you, hands splayed on his chest. You had grown to understand that you were the first to touch him in a capacity that was free from violence. By his admission, he had only known the sensation of suffering, even by his own hand. You reach up, letting your palms drift over the grit of his horns. Black, and wrought like iron. You rubbed them at the base with your thumbs where they met his skull, disappearing into the softness of sterling hair. He rattles out a purr of surprise underneath you, but doesn’t stop your attentions. His neck bends towards the touch, and you slip your hands up, up, wrapping your fingers around the bony protrusions. They fit perfectly, like the spaces there were made for your hands alone. You feel his hands around your wrists, then, and he directs them from his horns to his face. You cup it. Barely restrained heat colors his cheeks.

“Only you would dare to tease a fiend.”

There’s breathlessness in his words that he tries to conceal. His grip drops from your wrists and returns to your waist. He presses you into him again. You laugh brightly, feeling his interest make itself known underneath you.

“It’s not teasing. It’s adoring.”

You drag your nails up and down the plate of scales on his jaw, and the muscles underneath it flex in response. His nostrils flare at the combination of your words and your touch. You drop your hands to his chest again, and drag a finger around the contours of the gem that thrums with his lifeforce. His blood rushes in and out of it there, a tiny microcosm of life. He shudders, a quiet gasp escaping him. His purr continues to rumble, and though you know it comes from within him, the sound is so inhuman that it's hard to believe he produces it. His tail wraps around your entirety, replacing his hands at your waist. He sits up, his breath just a ghost against your lips.

“It’s my turn to adore you now, then.”

Your dragon learns that there are pleasures of all kinds. Those that excite the senses, invigorate the mind, and electrify the skin. He learns the pleasure of the mundane, too – the crunch of residual volcanic ash under foot, the ground warmed by its activity. The radiant flash of a fish in deep waters. A name that can’t be pronounced, given anew. He learns to share in pleasure, to become one in all ways. The arc of two souls no longer separated by flesh. He learns and merges, and the place where he begins and you end ceases its existence, and there is only the one song left behind in its wake.

[naomiruthwrites]

When I was working at The Barnes & Noble Hell Edition any time someone called for directions and I was working, they would transfer the call to me, because I was the only one who knew:

1) how to give directions in a way that made sense

2) knew seven+ ways to get to and from TB&NHE, including road names/approximately mileage/landmarks.

This is because I was very good at internally mapping, and was partially because I am good at nap reading, but was ALSO because I spent a lot of time driving around without a smart phone, without a GPS, and only route names jotted down onto a sticky note.

I recently moved to a new area which is verra verra Small Town Vibes. The area is Not Complicated, but I have done a TERRIBLE job at internally downloading a map of the area.

This is partially because The Agoraphobia Tendencies are a thing, so we have been driving less, but ALSO I am convinced it’s because we have been relying on our smart phone/Google maps. We don’t pay as much attention to our surroundings/roads/rods names/landmarks when Google Maps is running. Because we don’t have to.

So I very much agree with this idea of (safely) getting lost and exploring. It’s why I knew so much of the tri-state (NY/NJ/PA) area So Well. It’s why I was able to get un-lost in the suburban hellscape of just-outside-DC.

Now I’m going to go think about ways we can (safely) wander about & explore to start internally mapping our environment again~

I'm fascinated by your take on map/directions apps! Is there something besides the location tracking issue that makes you dislike them?

Warning for cellphones are the devil and thomas edison was a witch type thoughts but I think that people are worse at navigating than they used to be.

Map-reading and navigation are important skills but they're skills you need to practice in order to maintain them. But also I think it's important to learn your environment and I think that navigation apps discourage exploration and experiencing the area around you.

IDK I just think that it's an extremely good idea to go out and get yourself (safely, don't do this in a forest or a desert) lost and find your way out of being lost through trial and error every couple of months. You gotta wander around and look at stuff. You gotta find out what walkways are blocked off by chainlink. If you don't practice getting yourself unlost you're going to have a much worse time of it if you end up actually lost and I genuinely think this is an important troubleshooting skill that was extremely common fifteen years ago that is much less common today.

To be fair: people having trouble navigating is ALSO something that I found concerning before the iPhone was invented (did you know that people used to call up restaurants and businesses on the phone and ask for directions to your place of business? Have you ever tried to get someone unlost over the phone?) but also I've seen enough people express concern about how they would get home without a phone that I can't help but worry that they're serious.

I don't think that everyone needs to be able to read a map or to go orienteering - I'm aware that there are disabilities that make things like map reading and identifying cardinal directions extremely difficult and I do think it's good that there are tools that can help with those things - but I do think that getting lost and unlost is also a good survival skill/coping mechanism/mental puzzle/way to ameliorate anxiety/bonding activity that more people should be comfortable experiencing.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi there! I'm currently watching the original X men series to catch up to 97, and I'm in love with Gambit.

Would it be possible to ask for Remy and reader to be on a secret mission, and the Ole "make out so they don't suspect us" trope comes in, and gambit kinda (obviously) has feelings...?

It could be sfw or nsfw, either is perfect! Thank you for all that you do, I've been trying to find fics for the xmen for a while 🙏🙏

Kinda spicy! Gambit/GN!reader

YESS!! YESSSS!!! I legit had a dream about this situation with remy the day before you sent me this ask and I was cackling in joy when I saw this! I basically hyperfixated on it because I love this trope.

TWS: sexual themes n shit, no explicit smut. As always, reader written while picturing fem! but no specific pronouns mentioned. Semi-public making out and touching. Nipples be touched but size and type of breast not mentioned.

-Ps- reader can see heat signatures for plot purposes. I usually try to keep powers ambiguous but it was a NEED!

"In here, quick!" Remy's thick draw catches your attention, just before he yanks you into an alley. The two of you were in New Orleans, looking for a specific mutant Xavier wanted to talk to. The only downside was that Remy still had a warrant out for his arrest, and wanted posters plastered all over the city from bourbon Street to the garden district.

"Don't worry Cher. You said. NOPD 'dumber than a sack of rocks, you said!" You gripe at him. Remy laughs, tugging you around the corner. The alleyways on Burbon street are mostly private areas, owned and sealed off by the bars that line the storefronts- but Remy knew this city like the back of his hand. However, things had changed since he was here last. That became apperent when the two of you reach the end of the alleyway and there's a brand new brick wall, a dead end.

Remy curses and skids to a stop, causing you to slam into his back. You send him a dirty look as you whip around, eyes adjusting to the brick surroundings. It's hard to make out the figures of the cops through the walls of the busy bar in in front of you, too many people crowding the street for drinks even this late at night. You strain your eyes a bit, but are able to make out the stiff-shouldered men, heat signature slightly elevated from booking it after the two of you. Unfortunately, they're headed towards the mouth of the alleyway.

"Damnit." You mutter, turning back to Remy. He understands what you mean just by looking at your face. He hums, thinking for a moment before he begins to take out a playing card. You grab his arm to stop him, trying to ignore how warm his skin is against your own.

"Don't. The explosion will just lead them to us." You say. Remy nodds, glancing at the corner before suddenly caging you against the wall of the alleyway. You try not to blush as he does so. Remy smirks at you, and you think your heart might just explode. You remind yourself that this is standard Remy behavior, but it doesn't stop your face from heating up. You can only hope it's too dark for him to see you properly.

"Well, there is another way we could fool those pigs." Remy says, quieter than before. You cock an eyebrow at him before looking back over in the direction of the alleyways opening, able to spot the cops as they begin to enter. In your peripheral, you see Remy running his fingers through his hair to flatten it. You open your mouth to ask him what he has in mind, but the sound of footsteps cut you off.

"-Well, if you're going to do something, you better do it quick!" You whisper back at him. Remy pushes you further against the cold brick, his hands drifting down to your waist as he leans over to wisper in your ear.

"Trust me, Cher. I'll take care of you." His words cause goosebumps to rise at the back of your neck, and you hardly have time to react before he's kissing you. Your eyes are blown wide, heart thumping wildly as you start to slowly relax into the kiss.

Unsurprisingly, Remy is a really, really good kisser. It's hard to focus while he's touching you like this, kissing you deeply like he loves you. He nips at your lip, and you gasp, having forgotten about everything else already. His tongue darts into you mouth, caressing the skin he finds there. You let out a small moan as one of his hands drifts lower, caressing your thigh and hiking your leg up just a bit. Your own hands slowly slide up his chest, drifting to his neck.

The heat in your chest is unbearable when Gambit separates from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths before he wipes it away, nothing but affection on his eyes. You're panting for breath while he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then lower. Remy places wet kisses on your neck, sucking and biting as he tries to swallow you whole. You thread your hands through his soft hair as his does so, fully encouraging him to ravage you in whatever way he would like. One of his hands begins to slide under your shirt when a cough startles you out of your heated state.

Your first instinct is to turn towards the noise, but Gambit is quick to cup your cheek and pull you into another heated kiss before your head could move a centimeter. He keeps you occupied as his other hand fully caresses the skin beneath your shirt, squeezing and caressing your chest. You hear another exhausted sigh from the cops. You crack and eye open slightly, knowing they cant see you do so in the dark. One of them begins to raise his voice, but the other smacks him on the shoulder.

"Just another pair of drunks. We've got bigger things to worry about right now." The cop says. You could practically hear the other roll his eyes before they turn to and walk away. Gambit brings your attention back to him and only him when you feel a finger brush lightly against your nipple. You gasp, and Remy chuckles, playfully biting your lip as he pulls away. He's smirking as he looks at you, and you can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Looks like you enjoyed that." He teases, voice low and husky. You can't seem to pull your thought together properly when he's looking at you like that. You nervously look away, hands playing with his collar.

"And if I did?" You ask, glancing back at him to gage his reaction. He looks surprised at first, face morphing into a lovestruck smile before he tries to cover it up with a smirk. Didn't stop you from being able to see the heat rise to his cheeks, however.

"Then gambit thinks we should do this more often."

[system-to-the-madness]

お米 Okome - Inumaki Toge x Reader

Pairing: Inumaki Toge x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff Word Count: 4 532 Warnings: mentions of blood and injury Summary: Inumaki hates that he can’t use his voice to express his feelings towards you

Masterlist

Inumaki Toge doesn’t usually struggle with his fate. If there’s a situation he doesn’t like, he prefers action over lament and puts his mind to work to find a way to change it. Sure, there are situations he can’t change, his cursed speech for example, then he works around those things, finds a way to deal with it somehow. He talks in onigiri ingredients, occasionally uses a notebook or his phone’s note app to communicate more difficult matters. Inumaki Toge doesn’t usually struggle with his fate.

Except now he does. His eyes fall on Yuuta and you, sitting on a bench underneath the Momiji, red leaves sparkling in the autumn sun. Even from the distance where Toge just stepped out of the building across the yard, he can tell how hard you’re laughing, can tell that Yuuta has the biggest grin on his face. He stops, several different thoughts shooting through his head all at once. He loves your laugh. He wants to make you laugh too. He can’t, because of his cursed speech. He envies Yuuta for being able to tell you joke and making you laugh like that. And suddenly he remembers this thing he read in a magazine, that said that girls like boys who can make them laugh, and his stomach sinks.

 Toge already knows you like Yuuta. Its’s obvious. Do you like him because he can make you laugh? Toge stops in his steps where he was about to walk over to join the two of you, his heart suddenly thrumming almost painfully in his chest. Do you like Yuuta? He watches his black-haired friend, watches as he lifts his hand and leans a little closer to you. You stop laughing and lean in too. For a terrifying moment Toge thinks he’s about to witness you, the classmate he may or may not have had the biggest crush on since your first one-on-one training session, kiss his friend. But you don’t. Instead, you listen to something Yuuta says that Toge can’t make out over the distance and burst into another fit of laughter.

Suddenly Toge feels like crying. He could never make you laugh like that. Not by whispering a few words into the narrow space between you, not by letting words roll over his tongue. He can write them down, or pantomime them, or fool around to make you laugh, but he can never whisper them.

He wants to talk to you about normal things too, about the stupid weather, or how pretty you look with that new hoodie, or how clever your answers in class were, or how annoying Gojo and this new homework is. He doesn’t want to have to use his notebook for every slightly more complicated conversation, but he can’t be sure you would understand him if he didn’t. It doesn’t stop him from wishing he could use his voice to talk to you. Ever since he really, truly understood his cursed technique, he’s realized just how powerful and yet intimate voice is.

It’s something he’ll never be able to use to communicate his feelings.

Once, not long after Yuuta had joined the school, they, together with Panda, had talked about it. Or rather Yuuta and Panda had talked about his cursed technique, and he had listened. Panda had joked that if he ever wanted someone to kiss him, he could just use his cursed technique, which Yuuta had disagreed on, saying he’d need the other person’s permission to use his technique on them, otherwise it’d be harassment. Panda, who hadn’t thought about that, had quickly agreed, and the two had joked around a bit longer about the possibilities this offered. Toge thought about their words a lot. But there was something inside him, that wholly refused to use his technique for these purposes. It just wouldn’t feel right. Even if the other person agreed, or even asked him to do it, it would be like he’d take their will from them. He’d never do that for his own pleasure.

Toge gets pulled back into the moment by your voice calling for him. He blinks and looks up, finding you and Yuuta had turned to face him, waving him over. As much as he appreciates Yuuta, and as much as he likes you, he doesn’t feel like going over. He doesn’t want to hear the way your voice probably rises in pitch when talking to the special grade sorcerer, doesn’t want to watch Yuuta subtly touch you, doesn’t want to feel like he’s intruding on this moment between you, doesn’t want to burden himself with more heartbreak than he already signed up for.

He swallows thickly before he crosses his arm like an X in front of his chest.

“Okaka,” he denies, continuing his way as if he had planned on moving towards the dojo, instead of towards his friends.

He doesn’t dare to glance over to see your reaction. Are you disappointed? If you were, he’d feel guilty. If you weren’t, he’d be disappointed. If he’s being honest, he can understand that you like Yuuta. The guy is sensitive, and quiet, a good listener, great at giving advice. He’s funny and overall great company. And he’s crazy powerful. Otherwise he wouldn’t be a special grade sorcerer. And he saved your life when Toge himself was of absolutely no help whatsoever, instead almost throwing up from the taste of his own blood.

Toge is nothing in comparison to Yuuta. Sure, he has a strong technique. A strong technique he can use two to three times before his throat is bleeding. And he can be funny, or at least he’s good at making a fool of himself. And he can listen, but he never knows what to answer, worried that whichever advice he gives, it might not actually be helpful, or only make everything worse. So, if you like Yuuta, he gets it. If he were in your place, he’d also prefer Yuuta over himself. Not that you have to choose between the two of them, you could also be interested in neither of them. But the point stands: Yuuta is the better fit for you, and as much as Toge wants you to be happy, it breaks his heart.

-

“What was that,” asks Yuuta, tearing his eyes away from his retreating friend and looking at you instead.

You’re still watching Inumaki leave, his posture somewhat sunken in, hands buried in his pockets. He looks defeated and somehow you want to run after him, ask him what’s wrong. But that would be too pushy, too clingy, wouldn’t it? So instead, you swallow and turn back to Yuuta.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “He’s been… weird lately.”

Yuuta nodded. “I know, right? And ever since that last mission…”

That last mission, on which Gojo sent the three of you. That last mission where Inumaki’s voice gave out before he could finish the command, which lead to the curse injuring you. That last mission where Yuuta had been the one who had finished the short fight in just a single blow. You knew better than to assume that Inumaki was jealous of Yuuta’s power. You knew he wasn’t. But still something seemed to have dimmed his formerly good relationship with Yuuta. And with you too. He avoided you, texted you less throughout the day, reduced his already limited vocabulary to the equivalents of agreement and disagreement. You feel like you’ve made a mistake somehow, said or done something that hurt him.

“Do you think he’d talk to me about it,” you wonder, your voice small, nothing left of the breathless laughter from a moment ago.

Yuuta chews on his lip as he considers your question, and you know he’s considering a few things he officially doesn’t even know about. For example that you like Inumaki, that you make an active effort to spend time with him, have conversations with him. You’re the one who understands him the best, understands his language the best, even without the notebook.

What you don’t know, is that Yuuta also knows the other side of the story. He knows that Inumaki uses his notebook with you the most, because he wants you to understand his mind. He knows that Inumaki spends a lot of time considering each and every conversation he’s had with you. Sometimes, it’s late at night, and Yuuta gets a text from Inumaki, telling him about a conversation he’s had with you and if he should have replied something else. It’s not hard to tell that Inumaki is absolutely enamoured with you, and you with him. At least it’s not hard to tell from Yuuta’s perspective. But the way Inumaki and you never seem to understand the affection the other is harbouring, Yuuta begins to think that it’s actually very hard to tell from either of your perspectives. Or you’re both just idiots. Which, honestly, as much as he likes the two of you, is more likely.

“I’m not sure,” Yuuta eventually answers your question. There’s a lot Inumaki is bottling up, a lot he doesn’t even tell Yuuta about, stuff Yuuta can only assume. “But I think he’d probably appreciate it if you asked. Maybe he won’t tell you what’s going on, but I think he’d be glad to know you care.” This is as much as he can do to be honest without giving his friend’s secret away to you. A secret, Yuuta doesn’t even know officially.

“Don’t you think he’d get annoyed? He looked pretty upset just now,” you ask. You’re torn between wanting to show Inumaki that you cared, and scared of getting sent away or even worse, him getting angry at you.

“I mean, if you’re worried about it, you can always give him an hour or two. But I don’t think he’d mind if it were you, checking up on him.”

You don’t question Yuuta’s phrasing. Everyone knows you and Inumaki understand each other on a different level, the speed at which you sometimes communicate in single words thrown back and forth leaving the others out of their wits and completely clueless what the conversation was about.

“I’ll give him five,” you decide, leaning your back against the wooden table and glancing up at the red leaves overhead. “If he gets mad at me, it’s on you.”

Yuuta laughs, knowing you’re not serious. You’re not the kind of person who blames others for the outcome of your actions.

“He’d never get mad at you.”

“He looked pretty mad at me for getting injured on that last mission,” you disagree with Yuuta.

“He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. He blamed your injury on himself, when he couldn’t stop that curse because his voice gave out.”

You winced at the memory of blood trickling down from the corner of Inumaki’s mouth. He had once told you that he sometimes got sick from the taste, and after the curse was taken care of by Yuuta, it had been easier to focus on Inumaki than your own state. You remembered how awful the bright red blood had looked against his unusually pale skin.

“It wasn’t his fault, and he knows that.”

“Rationally yes,” Yuuta agreed. “But he still blames himself.”

“I’m surprised he talked to you about that,” you admit, closing your eyes in the sun. Behind your eyelids the picture of Inumaki’s bloody and scared face haunts your memory. You open your eyes again. “He never mentioned anything like that to me.”

“He didn’t, but it’s obvious,” Yuuta said.

“Is it?”

He just hummed in agreement.

“What else is obvious?”

“A lot. But that’s not mine to talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you and Inumaki really should talk about some stuff,” Yuuta answers, “Like for example that you like him.” He almost feels bad at the way you freeze up beside him.

“I don’t,” you deny, but there is no force in your voice.

“Just saying,” Yuuta shrugs. “A lot of stuff is obvious. Just not to you and him.”

There’s a moment of silence and you have a feeling Yuuta knows what you’re about to ask, your cheeks burning with shame, but you ask anyway.

“Does he like me too?”

Yuuta turns to you then, his big eyes studying you for a moment intensely. “You don’t have to ask me that. You have to ask him.”

You exhale with a sigh a glance at your wristwatch: “Fine… maybe not today, tho.”

Yuuta chuckles, knowing that that’s going to be your response for every day to come, but he doesn’t call you out for it. He doesn’t know if he’d have the courage to confess his feelings if he were in your position either.

“Welp, his five minutes are up. I’m gonna see if he’s okay,” you declare, and stand up from the bench you had been lounging on. “Just-” you glance down at your classmate. “Just don’t tell him about this conversation, will you?”

Yuuta nods. “I can keep a secret,” he smiles, and you’re satisfied, before you head into the same direction Inumaki ran off to a few minutes prior.

He wasn’t in the dojo where you expected him to be after he had wandered off there, so left a little helpless, you began searching for him. After checking all the usual places, you finally spied him sitting hunched over on a bench next to the koi pond in one of the small, traditional gardens squeezed between the buildings. He looked lost in thought, so you made an effort to not walk too quietly as not to startle him. But when you reached the bench and he still hadn’t turned to look up you, you furrowed your brows in confusion. Was he mad at you?

“Inumaki-san,” you asked quietly, sitting down next to him with a safe distance. He wasn’t wearing his full uniform, instead of the black jacket he had pulled a warm, green vest over the white shirt sleeved shirt with the high collar that hid his curse marks. “Toge?”

At the use of his given name, he finally looked up at you.

Your breath stopped when you saw the sadness in his purple eyes. He quickly blinked it away, but you knew what you had seen, your heart hurting at the way he had seemed so lost. Maybe even worse was that he didn’t want to show his feelings to you, instead masking them up.

“What’s wrong.”

“Okaka.” Nothing. Why?

“Don’t,” you warned him, “Don’t lie to me. Please don’t.”

“Okaka, okaka!” I’m not lying!  He said it with amusement in his voice, but when you failed to smile, his eyes grew serious again. “Okaka.” Nothing’s wrong.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Shake, shake.” Yeah, yeah, I know.

“Do you want to talk to me?”

This time his answer took longer, and it was only quietly spoke when he answered with another “Shake.”

Instead of saying anything else, he began reaching for the notebook he always carried with him, but before his fingertips had even grazed the cover, you caught his hand.

“You can talk to me. I’ll understand you. No notebook needed.”

Toge looked up at you then, his eyes widened. What did you mean, you didn’t need the notebook? Would you really understand him?

“Tuna,” he mumbled, averting his gaze from yours, but from the corner of his eyes he saw you tilt your head. How the hell was he supposed to communicate his feelings with onigiri ingredients? He had words to agree and disagree, words to catch attention and swear, but how was he supposed to tell you his greatest wish was to talk to you without having to use this damn notebook, that he wanted to just use normal language, like everyone else? How was he supposed to tell you how much it hurt to see you liking Yuuta? “Okaka.” It won’t work.

“You can try. And if it doesn’t work, you can still write it down, okay?”

“Shake.” Okay. He reached his hand up, absentmindedly running his fingers over his curse marks peeking out from under his high collar. “Ikura.” I hate them.

He had more mumbled that to himself, but you nodded. “They don’t make life very easy, do they?”

“Shake.” No, they don’t. Toge focused on what he wanted you to know, that he wished he could talk to you without risking cursing you. “Furikake… saamon.”

Okay, this was new. Not just one, but two new ingredients. Rice spice and the other word for salmon. You furrowed your brows. “Can you say that again?”

“Furikake saamon,” Toge repeated, slowly, trying to convey his feelings through just these two words. This was never gonna work.

“You want to talk about your thoughts?”

His eyes widened at your correct interpretation of his words.

“Shake, shake!” Enthusiastically he nodded his head. “Furikake saamon! Nori nai!”

“Nori nai, nori na- you don’t want to use…”

“Nori!” He motioned to his mouth, then to the notebook in his pocket.

“Onigiri ingredients and the notebook? You don’t want to use them?”

“Shake, shake!”

He nodded again, and you could see how excited he was, his eyes shining with disbelief that he had managed to communicate something so out of context to you. Quickly he reached up and pulled the zipper of his collar down, so he could additionally use his mimic to tell you what he was thinking.

“Tarago Furikake.” His lilac eyes were widened expectantly, as he waited for you to decipher his words.

“You want to talk?”

He nodded, then pointed at you. “Tarago furikake,” he repeated, underlining his words with stabbing his finger into your direction.

“You want to talk to me?”

“Shake. Nori nai furikake tamago. Okaka.”

“I know. I know it’s difficult without the notebook,” you sighed. “But we’re managing. Right? It might take me a while to get used to it, but I we’re having a normal conversation right now, right? A bit like talking with someone in a foreign language, but not much different than that.”

Toge smiled, the sight making your breath hitch. You were used to seeing his eyes squeeze together when he smiled, but his mouth usually was covered by his collar. You couldn’t help but think that he was one of the most beautiful people you knew.

“Furikake nai, tamago, maguro, nori” he continued.

“Maguro,” you repeated the second last word, thinking what he might have meant. Quietly you mumbled the phrase he had just uttered, your eyes skipping away from his face and over the koi pond instead, as if the translation were written in the ripples on the water surface. Without talking, having to write everything down, he felt bad… like an outsider. Your eyes widened. Was this really what he had wanted to say? That he felt like an outsider? You looked back at him, seeing the shock on his face as he took in your expression.

“We’re making you feel like an outsider because you can’t talk to us? Toge-“

“Okaka, Okaka!” He quickly waved his hands around, signalling you had misunderstood. “Tamago. Maguro.” He pointed to himself.

“You feel like an outsider?”

“Shake!”

“Because you can’t talk to us?”

“Shake.” This time his voice was quieter, and he averted his gaze.

You exhaled quietly. You knew there was not much you could do to change the way he felt, nothing you weren’t doing already anyway. But to deny his feelings wouldn’t be right, even if you wanted to convince him that he wasn’t an outsider.

“I’m sorry,” you started. “I promise you, to us, you’re an integral part of the group, even if you don’t feel like you always are. Do you… do you have any ideas how we could help you feel more included?”

Toge shook his head. “Okaka,” he denied, and then pointing at himself: “Tamago.” It’s my negative feeling. “Tanaka-zuku mentaiko.” You’re doing everything right. There’s nothing you can do to change that. He hesitated for a moment before he added: “Furikake.”HHe hesitated for a moment before he added.

“Of course, we’ll keep talking to you. And you see that you can talk to us too. If I can learn to understand you, so can the others.”

Toge seriously doubted that, but he didn’t voice his thought, instead focusing back on what you had been talking about. “Tarago furikake mayo. Tuna-mayo furikake, saamon tamago, shiisamu. Takana-zuke tarago tuna-mayo shiisamu.”

You stared at him intensely, making his heart race. There was no way you had understood what he had just said. Was there? He was using words he had never used with you, or anyone at jujutsu high, before. He had sometimes used them when he had been younger, when he had talked to his toys as a little kid, finding ingredients for almost anything he could think of. That he still remembered them was a surprise. But there was no way you’d understand him like this, not even when he tried to embed the sentimental meaning of each word into his voice. Your eyes skipped over his face, as you were thinking hard, and Toge waited for the “Sorry, I don’t know what you mean, please write it down.” But it didn’t come. Instead, you answered him.

“I want you to be able to talk openly too. And I’d love to hear about the bad things you think and feel as much as about the good things. Because they’re part of you. Even when they’re hard, even when they’re painful and difficult to admit. But that’s why we have each other, right? So we’re not alone, so the difficult times aren’t quite as difficult. And you already make me laugh, you already make me feel happy. I’m always the happiest when I’m with you.”

You hadn’t used the word friend. The thought rang in Toge’s mind, and together with your last sentence it accumulated to the next words that spilled over his lips, words he had been certain he’d never actually say out loud. Words, which’s meaning he had thought he’d never communicate to you in any form or way.

“Tarago tuna-mayo furikake okome. Tarago tanaka-zuke okome.”I want to use my voice to tell you that I’m in love with you. I want you to be in love with me too.

The moment the words had left his lips, he wanted to make it all undone. What if you had understood him and didn’t feel the same way? All this time he wished you’d understand him, and now he hoped you hadn’t understood a word of what he had just uttered. The way you stared at him wide eyed was a good sign that you really hadn’t.

“Okome,” you asked, your heart beating in your throat. If you had thought rationally about the way he was listing food, you wouldn’t have had the faintest idea of what he had wanted to express, but somehow his emotions were swinging in his words, like the sounds accumulated to a meaning that wasn’t transported by words.

“Mentaiko,” he began, wanting to lift his hands to wave it off, to tell you that it wasn’t important.

But before he had completed the gesture, you caught his wrist with your dominant hand, raising the other between you, pointing at him.

“Okome,” you asked before pointing to yourself. Your voice was shaky, and you could see the moment Toge realized you had understood him.

His eyes widened and he paled a little, swallowing hard. You could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid you’d turn him down, you realized, and your heart broke a little.

So, what did you do, when your best friend, who you had liked for far too long without acting on it, accidentally confessed his love to you? Using the word for “rice” nonetheless, the base ingredient for onigiri. Because just like one couldn’t make rice balls without rice, humans couldn’t live without love.

You repeated the gesture towards yourself, pointing at you again. “Okome,” you said, voice just as shaky as before, before pointing at Toge.

His eyes followed your finger, the way it was pointing right at his chest, where his heart was stuttering in excitement, and then doing cartwheels, as the realization began settling in.

“Okome,” he asked in disbelieve.

But you just nodded. “Okome.”

He acted quicker than you could really perceive. Your one hand was still holding onto his wrist, to stop him from gesticulating, his skin warm underneath yours, but with the other he grabbed the hand with which you had pointed between you and him. His fingers wrapped around yours tightly, pulling you towards him, pressing your hand right over his heart, while he leant in at the same time, connecting his lips to yours.

A shiver went through you, at the feeling of his warm body underneath his clothes, at his soft lips pressed to yours, at the strange tingling of cursed energy that radiated from his cursed mark. And then you abandoned all thoughts, and just acted on instinct, moving closer to him, wrapping your hand into the fabric of his vest, and kissing him like you had wanted to kiss him for such a long time already.

A sound of appreciative surprise erupted from Toge’s throat and you could feel him smile as he met your kiss with equal fervour, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of your lips. When you parted them just the smallest fraction, he didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue past them, exploring your mouth until both of you had to pull away for breath. You were breathing heavily, your mind foggy, fingers wrapped into his vest, holding on to something, otherwise it felt like the world would just slip away.

When you opened your eyes, you found he was already looking at you. His beautiful eyes were scanning over your face as if searching for any sign of discomfort, as if he expected you to scold him for kissing you. Honestly, at this point the only scolding he’d get was that he had stopped kissing you.

Unwrapping one of your hands from where you had clung to him, you brushed a strand of his bright hair out of his forehead, the curl soft against your fingertips. With a smile you leant forward, and pressed your lips to his left cheek, then the curse mark there, feeling the cursed energy sizzle through them. You moved on to his right cheek, then his forehead, the tip of his nose, his chin, peppering small kisses all over his face until he was full on laughing and took hold of your face with both of his hands, pulling you only far enough away from him to be able to look into your eyes. His were still crinkled in joy, but his voice was serious and heavy with how much he meant this single word phrase that left his lips without hesitation.

“Okome.” And then he kissed you again, slower this time, just to make sure you understood each little detail of what he felt for you. Inumaki Toge sometimes struggled with his fate, but as long as he had you to understand him, what else could he really ask for?

Tags: @nnasv @ashy-akuma @delzinrowe

[noahsresources]

IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW

for muses who need to share some intimate thoughts with one another. can be platonic, romantic, familial ... works with any kind of dynamic really. feel free to change pronouns, descriptor words, whatever you may need!

❝ you know i love and care about you, right? ❞ ❝ ... i guess i'm just scared of losing you. ❞ ❝ i don't like most people, but you're an exception. ❞ ❝ you're not alone. you'll never be alone. not as long as i'm here. ❞ ❝ by your side is where i'm meant to be. ❞ ❝ not one person is more important to me than you. ❞ ❝ i don't know what it is about you, but, you just ... you're the only one who can make me feel like this. ❞ ❝ you're amazing, you know that? ❞ ❝ who has the greatest (friend/brother/sister/sibling/parent/etc) in the world? me, that's who! ❞ ❝ i'm only managing to stand here on my two feet because of you. i made it because of you. ❞ ❝ i don't know how i'm ever going to be able to repay you. ❞ ❝ i know for a fact that you're special. i can feel it. ❞ ❝ you've actually made me feel like a person again, like i'm ... normal. ... thank you. ❞ ❝ i used to think that everyone else was just evil and cynical, guided by their own self-interest. that is, until i met you. ❞ ❝ you truly are too good for this world. ❞ ❝ i'm always blown away by just how talented you are. ❞ ❝ you deserve so much more than what you were given. ❞ ❝ nobody i've ever met has been more gifted than you. ❞ ❝ if you ever need a place to stay, let me know, okay? ❞ ❝ you always feel really comfortable and safe to be around. ❞ ❝ i think i have a new purpose in my life. to be with you. ❞ ❝ you have a kind heart. i know you don't believe me, and you try to hide it behind a facade, but i know for a fact that you do, deep down. ❞ ❝ i think you're probably the only one who understands me. ❞ ❝ you're safe here with me. nobody's going to harm you ever again. ❞ ❝ i don't deserve someone as amazing as you. ❞ ❝ i was kind to you because you looked like you needed a friend. ❞ ❝ i'm never leaving you. you're stuck with me. ❞