#Even I didn't see that coming. || CRACK

[pallideinanis]

"How old do I look to you?! Answer quickly!"

With the suddenness of the playwright's urgent question, narrow shoulders shoot upwards, hugging his neck and freezing him in place for a beat while he processes what had just occurred. And what exactly Qaraang was asking of him.

Eyebrows shoot up, then quickly fall back down in the other man's presence. Brow pinching together in an obvious sense confusion that remains evident on his twisted face.

"Look?" He parrots, a creeping smile slithering onto pale features while he uncurls from himself, fully willing to cut off inference and what he knows from glimpses of Nona that he can recognize. "You look aaaancient. Archaic, unknowable!"

"Beyond the realm of anything I'd be familiar with!"

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.

[fromtheseventhhell]

Ned Stark has never shown a sign that he hates the Targaryens (???) I don't know where some people get that from? i mean, just because you hate targaryens doesn't mean your fictional characters are also, and based on nothing

That's exactly it, people dislike Targaryens and want other characters to feel the same way to justify it. I've seen people call it a "plot hole" that Ned doesn't hate the Targs/Rhaegar, but at this point fandom's mental gymnastics don't surprise me. They either rewrite characters to align with their opinions or decide they're unreliable. It never occurs to them to change their opinions based on what the story is actually telling us.

[everysongineverykey]

and for my next trick i present... my Grand Tv People Freakout Extravaganza!!! *falls to the floor weeping violently*

[sysig]

Totally unaffected by this gesture of affection, definitely (Patreon)

[hella1975]

my mum picking me up this morning: you're not as hungover as i thought you'd be

me, just yacked in an alleyway: yeah haha

[cerbreus]

had a trainwreck of an in person consult for my sleeve tattoo yesterday only made better by the itty bitty yorkie shop dog adoring me and sitting on my lap the whole time.

[fourspiceblend]

It's funny cause for the most part of the game, I didn't really care about people's criticisms of Engage's writing and thought they were just mad the story was straightforward and didn't try to be overly complex... But now that I'm (finally) reaching the endgame, there's a loooot of weird plotholes that 3H would be jealous of lol.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

You have no idea what it's like to have done the things I've done... and to care.

[pallideinanis]

Earlier today I was replaying The Knife of Dunwall and while in the Void, I passed an unfinished work-in-progress of The Isometry of High Overseer Campbell. I thought, instead of this painting being a representation of Dunwall Tower on that terrible day in history, it clearly must be an unfinished piece created by the Outsider himself as he watches Sokolov work on his portrait of Campbell live. I then thought of the Outsider following along very closely with his own paintbrush and canvas as though the guy was watching an episode of Bob Ross, copying every brush stroke with precision in an earnest effort to learn how to paint.

[beskad]

.

[chuluoyi]

✎ wedding anniversary

- gojo satoru x reader

seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—heavy smut, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, crack, drunk, lovesick and possessive gojo (nanami is so very done with him), also fluff !!

note: back to chu's thirsting hour :') based on a fellow gojo fucker's very helpful brainrot (chiyo if you see this, hii!😗) pls give it some love bc this has gone through not showing up in the tags 5x already *sobs*

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

To this day, it was still beyond Nanami why you, his very sensible former classmate, would have Gojo Satoru as your husband.

“She... doesn't—hic!—care about m-me... anymore!”

But well, to each their own.

“Gojo—”

“Today is our—hic!—anniversary!”

This is exhausting. It had been 30 minutes ever since the blindfolded shithead started rambling his sorrows. “She is probably just busy, you don't have to—”

“I r-really thought—hic!—she would at least n-not forget it l-like that!”

“Please, stop this nonse—”

Satoru snapped his head so swiftly that Nanami was startled, pointing out an accusatory finger at his face. “You stop!—you don't understand, Nanami!”

The said man flinched, taken aback, before feeling the surge of irritation coursing through his veins.

Sure, Nanami would gladly admit that he didn't understand. He neither had the time nor energy to. It was beyond him that he was even entertaining this blubbering idiot at this time of the day, in a bar no less. How did he get roped into this in the first place?

Actually, he had minus interest in your marital affairs, but Gojo was latching onto him all day, rambling about how excited he was for this day for weeks now, until you gave him a call, saying you would be home late and disregarded his very open anticipation. You broke his heart to pieces, apparently.

Amidst his heartbroken musings, Gojo followed him to his frequented bar, where he proceeded to down multiple glasses without any supervision.

“Am I really t-that lousy? Can’t be it… I’m s-strong, d-dashing… rich—”

Nanami released a guttural sigh, messaging his temples. How could this idiot have no shame while spouting all of this?

“Will s-she… divorce me next…?” he abruptly blurted, eyes widening as saucers and full of clarity all of a sudden. Satoru firmly tugged at his suit and forced him to face him. “Nanamin…! S-she won’t divorce me, r-right?!”

Oh, to hell with it. Nanami couldn’t take this anymore. He was done and he had no patience to tolerate it any longer.

He shrugged him off, and pulled out his phone to dial your number. “Hello? Please, come pick your husband. He’s a public nuisance!”

In fact, you didn’t forget your anniversary.

How could you? Satoru made it his point to drop hints about it almost every day, and you actually struggled to be indifferent about it because you also had things planned out.

A present—already taken care of thanks to your mail order of Rolex’s newest collection watch, and a treat—a two-tier mochi cake he had been staring at with literal stars in his eyes on your last date.

Which has become the problem. The bakery had mishandled your delivery and you had to wait for them to remake it. It was 8pm already and you couldn't help but worry. Satoru must be feeling utterly despondent by now, thinking you had forgotten a day that meant so much for both of you.

And so when you got a call from Nanami, you dropped everything to get him and told the bakery to arrange for the delivery tomorrow, because you knew... nothing good ever came out of Satoru getting drunk.

"I missed youuuu~! Dearest, darling— my universe!"

To Satoru, the everything around him was a blur of lights and hiccups when you came to retrieve him. Nanami was so eager to wash his hands off him, leaving you with a pointed grimace as if pitying you.

. . .

"A-are you going to—hic!—leave m-me?" Satoru slurred for the nth time now, stumbling inside your house with you propping him.

"For the last time, no, but I'm tempted to," you hissed, throwing him a glare. Your husband was a very unpleasant drunk because he wasn't even a drinker in the first place. "Satoru—walk properly!"

You managed to get him into your bedroom, where Satoru flopped onto the bed, dissolving into groans. You exhaled deeply and plucked the buttons of his shirt open, trying to get him change into his sleepwear.

"Ah... haaah," suddenly he caught your hand and placed it on his bare chest, his eyes blazing into yours, rambling, "Sweetheart—please. I c-can't live without you now... I'm sorry—I'm sorry for anything, or everything, I don't even know but—please don't hate me—"

"Satoru..." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Why was he this spooked? "I'm not leaving you, okay?"

"I promise you, I'll do better—" his voice was watery, as if his throat was clogged up. "I'll be better..." His voice then reduced into a whisper. The alcohol had stripped away his facade, leaving his raw emotions exposed.

Something inside you lurched. Throughout the nine years you have been with him, Gojo Satoru was always irritatingly self-assured, and so seeing him like this— so openly fragile, it did more than just churn your insides; it made you realize the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you knew your reassurance meant everything.

"I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" you placed your other hand over his, offering him a genuine, soft smile. “Satoru, I’ve put up with your ass for more than nine years. So…” you shifted your eyes away, suddenly feeling embarrassed, before looking at him again. “I'm here... for you, always.”

His grip on your hand loosened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn't wane, and you would've laughed when he hiccupped next if you weren't feeling the overwhelming warmth in your chest.

But oh you wouldn't have expected it, because one heartbeat later, he yanked you down to the bed— crashing his lips against yours.

“Mmmph!”

He tangled his nimble fingers on your hair, and his other hand slipped inside your blouse, unclasping your bra in one flick. You let out a gasp, "Satoru—! "

Before you could even gasp, in the next second, he flipped you over— seizing your puffy lips once more. His hands now moved with more urgency, squeezing your breasts rather roughly, flicking your nipples with the pads on his thumbs.

And soon, far sooner than you thought...

"Who else gets to see you like this?" Satoru inquired darkly after you were naked under him, his voice low and deep. He was no longer that stupid husband of yours, rather the wanton man of your nightly wonders.

Without warning, he slid one of his fingers into your folds, probing your walls, and a gasp escaped you as you arched your back, throwing your head back on the sheets.

"No— one," your voice came in a breathless moan, still reeling. "H-how can y-you ask me—" Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger and you wailed, "Mmgh!"

He had always loved the sounds you made and how you were so pretty squirming under him like this. And before you knew it, his face was inches from your cunt, blowing hot air into your sensitive flesh.

"Tell me, who is the only person who gets to see you like this?"

Your eyes rolled back, words died on your tongue as his skilled tongue ran down on your drenched pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, but he firmly held them apart.

"You." Panting, your mind racing to form coherent thoughts. You managed to mutter, "Only you... No one else—hah—just y-you...!"

He suckled on your clit hungrily then, rewarding you for your honesty. Squelching noises echoed around your marital bed as your arousal pooled around his fingers— you being so incredibly, irrevocably close to your release.

"Haaah, ngh—mmph!—Satoru, I'm a-about to—!" but then, in one cruel twist, he withdrew his digits, and your pussy throbbed at the loss.

You muffled your whines, feeling betrayed and irritable. "What—why—!?"

"Don't think that I'll let you cum anywhere else but my cock," he stated gallantly with an unusually stern expression, blue eyes narrowing as he assessed your wetness. Right in front of your eyes, his cock sprung after he let it out of his pants.

"Soon, you'll feel me..." Your eyes shamelessly followed his long length as he placed it on your lower belly. "...there."

Everything about him using that taunting tone turned you on, and true to his words, he soon slid himself inside you. He let out a low grunt at the feeling of how your walls clenching around him and you whined, the pain of being stretched making you almost sob.

"Shit, hold still," Satoru groaned, pushing down on your belly. "You're so tight— relax for me a bit, sweetheart? You're doing so, so fucking well."

His words went through you, and you could feel yourself opening more to ease his intrusion. Next thing you knew, he was buried deep inside you, and his gaze met you once again.

"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths, voice softening. When you nodded in response, he planted a kiss on your chest.

"I love you," he said in a rasp, eyes piercing your soul. "I’ll give you anything. My body, heart, soul—you can have it all. In return, you just have to promise one thing." His eyes, now clearer, deprived of the earlier haze, boring straight into you like an arrow.

"Don't ever leave me."

"I won't," you replied resolutely, catching your breath. Your own eyes shone with your love for him, making it even. "For as long as I live, it's going to always be you."

Satoru gazed at you as if you were his skies and stars, and before he started pounding into you, he vowed—

"Then I'm yours."

And soon, you were a nothing more than a frenzy, hot mess. You couldn’t help the nasty moans flying out of your lips as he kept barreling into you. His grunts reverberated throughout the room, rutting you through your hazed mind.

And the way he was whispering provocations into your ear, pushing you further into ecstasy at the mere thought of—

"What if... I get you pregnant this time?" A thrust. "Just imagine—" Another. "My wife, all round—" Another. "—just because I—am doing this to her—!"

You were barely registering his rambles at this point. Your walls clenching around his girth impossibly tight and you let him claim you as his thoroughly, your legs locking around his waist.

"Ah—ngh, mmrgh! Satoru—more!"

This wasn't you, the usual you wouldn't be this daring— but even you'll be more than forgiven tonight.

Satoru's jaw tightened at the sheer pleasure you brought him, his ego stroked, and his heavenly eyes darkened as you begged and dug your nails into him. He was so close, he could feel it. Your moans was enough to lead him to cum right here and there.

But before that, he was determined to show you, to whom you truly belong.

“My wife.” He growled. A thrust.

“Mine.” You gasped. Harder.

“All mine.” Deeper.

"Yes," you cried. "Yours— all yours, so please—!"

And three deep thrusts later, Satoru finally busted his load inside you, spurts after spurts painting your wall white— filling you up so hard it was spilling out. And your orgasm followed in immediate effect along with your hitched screams of pleasure, before the two of you collapsed on each other, a mix of groans and sweat, entwined in cum, bliss and exhaustion.

"Love you, sweetheart," you heard him murmuring in your ears, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you drifted into sleep.

Next morning, you were awoken to soft hums in your ears.

"Oh, the sleeping beauty awakens." The first sight you saw was Satoru's cheeky grin, and him pecking you on the lips. "How are you?"

"Mmm..." you winced, feeling the slight twinge between your legs. He noticed it and gently untangled himself from you, fingers tracing your waist. "Don't move around too much, you're going to bother my little swimmers, you know."

It took you a few seconds to realize what he meant and you glared at him. "You horny weirdo. I just woke up."

“Heh heh heh~ Don't take it too seriously! I was just trying to get you to smile.” He pinched your cheeks and then mused, “Well, I'd actually be surprised if we made it last night...”

"You're not funny," you retorted. You had been feeling weird and that was when you saw it.

The dazzling, massive diamond ring. On your finger. Wait, is that Graff's Tribal Collection?

"Satoru..." you mumbled, lifting your hand in shock, your eyes fixed on the piece that likely cost more than your monthly wage. "You..."

"Do you like it?" his smile was so easy and light, adoring the sight of you. You were so adorable, marveling at the little gift he got you.

"What do you mean—" you stuttered, turning to him. "Are you crazy?! I can't wear something this expensive—!"

"But that's exactly my point. It's a gift, meant to spoil my wife."

"You are mad," warmth flooded your cheeks, your heart fluttering with joy. You were unbelievably giddy because your husband really knew the way to your heart, yet you'd be damned if you let the excitement show in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression souring, and with a mocking tone, he accused you, "Actually, you're the one who's gone mad. I can't believe you forgot our anniversary!"

"I didn't, you dummy. I was out picking up your favorite mochi cake before you got yourself wasted." You turned away from him, shyly. "And I got a gift for you too."

"Oh? Oooh! Really!? What is it?!"

He was back to his silly self again, and you could only shake your head, wondering how the sex god from last night and this fool was the same person.

Yet, you felt nothing but love. Your heart couldn't help but melt for him when you saw that carefree grin.

And you couldn't be more grateful to the stars for bringing him into your life.

. . .

Oh, and little did you know that his little swimmers also made the goal last night— as three weeks later, you found yourself clutching the first of your pregnancy tests, which was showing a positive.

[sysig]

(Requestober) Could you draw something with Virgil from Portal Stories: Mel?? I played the game recently and he was my absolute favorite- such a fun design and personality! Maybe something where he's hanging out with Wheatley or Mel or the rainbow core? I was SO mad they made the player leave him at the end, so just anything where he gets to have a friend, really.

Day 6 - Still together

[bwere]

YOUR VOICE CONSOLES ME !

despite leading busy lives, they are all found longing for you.

feature: choso, gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna

content: gender neutral — 1.9k+ wc: fluff, and mma toji/sukuna cause i said so [request are always open] + not proofread

CHOSO KAMO

His day had been long and tiring, the stress of it still lingering in his eyes. All he wanted was to come home, to listen to your voice, to lose himself in the normalcy of your life.

“Welcome home baby.”

As he stepped into the house, the smell of cooking wafted through the air, a comforting reminder of home. He found you in the kitchen, your back turned to him as you focused on the stove. He approached you silently, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

Though jumping slightly at the newfound contact, you turn to look at him with surprise. “Cho’” you call out, your voice filled with curiosity. “—whats up? everything okay?”

But Choso just shook his head, burying his face in your neck. He breathed in your scent, a mix of your shampoo and the food you were cooking. It was familiar, comforting, a balm to his tired soul.

You understood. Not pressing him for answers, didn’t ask him to talk about his day. Instead, you just wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. 

Slowly rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the pops and cracks on the stove—as you two swayed in silence.

Like two moons amidst the universe of stars.

At that moment, all of Choso’s worries seemed to fade away. He was home, in your arms, and that was all that mattered. His day had been hard, but he knew that as long as he had you, he could face anything. And with that thought, he let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing against yours as you two continued to sway in the silence of the kitchen.

Acknowledging nothing but each other's embrace.

GOJO SATORU

Satoru hated meetings and would skip them at any opportunity. 

However, tonight was crucial, and all he desired was to return home to you. His shoulders were slumped, his tie loosened, and his eyes held the exhaustion of a long day filled with unskippable meetings.

He was late, later than he had initially promised you.

He entered your shared bedroom to discover you curled up on the bed, deep in concentration on a TV show. His fatigued mind felt relieved to see you, secure and at ease. As soon as you saw him, your eyes brightened, as you silently reached out your arms in invitation.

Satoru didn't need to be asked twice.

So without a word, he crossed the room and collapsed into your arms. The tension in his body eased as he sank into your embrace, his head resting against your chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his breaths syncing with the tune of your heartbeat.

“How was your day?” you asked, your fingers running through his hair in a soothing motion.

In response, Satoru just groaned, not wanting to relieve the stress of his day.

“Tell me about your day instead,” he mumbled into your chest, his voice barely audible. He wanted to hear your voice, your stories, your laughter. He wanted to drown out the memories of his day with the sound of you.

And as you began to recount your day, your voice a soft lullaby in the quiet room, Satoru felt himself relax even more. He closed his eyes, letting your words wash over him, your presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of his life.

As he drifted off to sleep, he knew that no matter how hard his day was, he would always have this – a safe haven in your arms, a place where he could let go of his worries and just be. And that was more than enough for him.

GETO SUGURU

The door clicked shut softly as Suguru stepped into the quiet house. It was late, much later than he had intended to come home. He tiptoed through the dimly lit hallway, making his way to the bedroom where you were already asleep.

He didn’t want to waste any time. So he quickly changed into his pajamas and slid into bed, wrapping his arms around you.

Stirring in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open at the sudden movement.

“Sugu’?” you mumbled, your voice thick with slumber, “...what time is it?”

“Hey, Hey, I’m sorry for waking you up, baby,” he hushed, his voice filled with regret. But rather than chastise him, you just drew him in and held him in your limbs.

“‘missed you,” you murmured, pressing soft kisses to his face. He could feel your smile against his skin, your love evident in your actions.

He couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling with love for you. “I missed you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Wanna tell me how your day was?”

As you started to tell him about your day, your voice faded as sleep started to claim you once again. He listened to you, his smile growing wider as he admired you drifting off mid-sentence.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering a quiet “I love you” into the silence of the night. As he watched you sleep, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for you, for your love, for the life you and him had built together.

And as sleep crept into his body, he shut his eyes and drifted with you. 

NANAMI KENTO

The soft glow of the computer screen illuminated Nanami’s face, casting long shadows across the room. He is a well known workaholic, his dedication to his work often keeping him up until the wee hours of the morning. Tonight was no different. He had been in his home office for the past week, filling out applications and paperwork, his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose.

And like most nights you couldn’t sleep well without him. You tossed and turned, entangled in the sheets, the other side of the bed cold and empty without Nanami. 

Finally, you decided to look for him, only to find him dozing off at his computer, a hand under his chin, his glasses in the other.

You approached him silently, your heart aching at the sight. 

You gently shook him awake, and he blinked up at you, confusion clouding his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Flashing a small smile, your hand reaching out to caress his face. “Come to bed, Nami’,” you said softly. “You can finish your work later.”

He knew he couldn’t say no to you, not when you looked at him with those puppy eyes. So, he saved the document he was working on, turned off his computer monitor, and followed you back to bed.

As you two settled into bed, you turned to him, your hand reaching out to caress his face. “I love you, Kento,” you whispered, your words dipped with meaning.

He mumbled a sleepy “I love you too,” before falling asleep, leaving you and the moonlight to capture his scenic beauty one last time before you joined him in slumber. The worries of the day seemed to melt away, replaced by the comforting presence of each other. 

Promising that no matter how difficult the day may be, you’ll end up in each other's arms no matter what. 

TOJI FUSHIGURO

Opening the front door and taking off his shoes— as the late-night silence amplified the sound. Toji, a man used to only having to hold his own, stepped inside, his body sore from the rigorous MMA practice match he had just endured. His official fight was only a couple of months away, and every practice session was a step closer to that day.

He knew you worried about him, your concern evident in your eyes every time he left for a match. Tonight was no different. He had come home late, his body bruised and worn. He didn’t want you to see him like this, didn’t want to add to your stress. So, he decided to sneak into the bathroom, hoping to patch himself up before you noticed.

But as he tiptoed past the living room, he found you there, waiting on the couch, your eyes heavy with worry. The sight of him, beaten and worn, made your heart clench. 

As you rose from the couch, you reached out to him.

“Toji,” you scolded, your voice soft yet stern, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

With a flash of remorse in his eyes, he looked at you. “’m sorry I worried you,” he said—observing your face, not once breaking eye contact. “did ya’ miss me?”

With a sigh your agitated facade melts away. You just couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he talked to you with a hint of honey in his sultry voice.

 “Come on,” you said, leading him towards the bathroom, “let’s get you patched up, big boy.”

Tending to his cuts, your touch was as gentle as always. Your brows were furrowed in concentration–your lips pursing as you worked. In that moment, he realized just how much you cared to put up with his bullshit. He reached out, cupping your face in his palms. Pulling you in for a kiss.

“Mmnm–you’re still not off the hook, Toji,” you warned, pulling away from the kiss. But your eyes were soft, and your lips curving into a small smile.

His heart crested with devotion to you as he grinned. "I know," he uttered in a playful tone. "But you jus’ can’t get enough of me, admit it." 

Laughing together as any concerns before, were momentarily forgotten, knowing you had the strength to face whatever the future held. Since all you needed was each other—that's just what you had. 

SUKUNA RYOMEN

Sukuna, a man of few words and an intense demeanor, was in the middle of a late-night training session. The gym was filled with the grunts and groans of his fellow boxers, their sweaty bodies a stark contrast to the cool, calm demeanor Sukuna usually carried. But tonight, he was missing something – or rather, someone.

He decided he needed a break. He missed you, the only person who truly knew him, who saw past his intense exterior to the man he was inside. As he stepped into the locker room to call you, his teammates asked him where he was going. He simply ignored them, his mind already made up on calling you.

As soon as you picked up, his tense demeanor changed. The sound of your voice brought a genuine smile to his face, a rare sight for those who knew him.

“Are you okay Kuna’?” you asked, concern lacing your voice, “is something wron—”

He cut you off before you could say anything else. 

“I love you,” he said, his voice soft. “miss you. be home soon. keep a hot bath runnin’ for me.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as you were seemingly taken aback by his words. Until, you giggled, your laughter like music to his ears. 

“I love you too, Kuna’” you said. “anddd, I’ll have a bath ready–but only if you say pleaseee,” 

Scoffing with a smile that you can hear in his voice, he gives in, just this once he tells himself. “Please.”

“Thank you, Kuna’ get home safe, mwuah” 

His teammates reminded him that it was his turn to spar just as he was about to respond, he hung up. His expression returned to one of annoyance as he rolled his eyes.   

But inside, he was smiling, looking forward to the moment he would be home with you, away from the sweaty gym and obnoxious boxers. And for the rest of the night, he trained with a newfound energy, as his thoughts were filled with you and the warm bath waiting for him at home.

[genderqueerdykes]

the reason intersex people need to be visible and at the forefront of every queer's activism is because we are completely devoid of autonomy when it comes to identifying ourselves. no matter how hard we try to speak up on how we are treated, how we are dehumanized, how we are refused our right to say who we are, it falls through the cracks because of how many people continue to diminish our issues, and espouse intersexist beliefs.

when i speak up about being transfemme, and a trans girl, it's not because i'm trying to step on people's toes or speak about something i don't understand. i speak up about it because this is the life i've lived. it doesn't matter if strangers see me this way or not, this is how i've been my entire life. whether or not someone knows i was technically born AMAB and then had my gender "corrected" shouldn't matter.

trans people do not only come in binary sexes- just like gender, physical sex is also not a binary. i am an intersex trans girl , even if my agab didn't stay AMAB forever. I would be an intersex trans girl regardless of whether or not they assigned me male at birth, because my experience with womanhood and femininity is that they've always been held away from me, way farther than it would ever be possible for me to reach.

i've had to take estrogen & progesterone HRT in the past in order to "correct" my masculine features in order to look like and be a girl "correctly". the subject of my body and my gender has never been something i've been able to control. my whole live i've just been told that i'm a girl wrong, and that i need to "Fix" it.

boyhood or manhood weren't options either, that was held away from me with a 10 foot pole as well. i've had to transition into gender, itself, because i was forbidden to be a boy or a girl. i was always too sensitive or soft to be a real boy. gender as a concept has been a source of control and degredation for me. i had to transition into both manhood and womanhood in order to have control over how i identify. even now when i talk about manhood and being a man, people tell me that i'm not a trans man because of how i look. i'm routinely denied manhood, I "have" to be a trans woman only to some.

due to my intersex condition, i'm a trans man and a trans woman, transfemme and transmasc, but people struggle to accept this. there's no reason for people to give me hell about these parts of myself, and yet people still do. intersex awareness matters because we fight to be seen as the people we are. we struggle to have our identities be addressed correctly. we are in the same fight as trans individuals, and we owe it to intersex trans men, women, and people to help people understand that trans folks come in all different types of bodies, and that biological sex is not a binary, either.

we have to fight for each other's autonomy. for all of us. together we are stronger, louder, and braver.

[headspace-hotel]

Nature is healing.

I burned the Meadow a couple weeks ago. At first it looked like nothing but charred ashes and dirt, with a few scorched green patches, and I was afraid I'd done something terrible. But then the sprouts emerged. Tender new leaves swarming the soil.

My brother and I were outside after dark the other day, to see if any lightning bugs would emerge yet. We had been working on digging the pond. That old soggy spot in the middle of the yard that we called "poor drainage," that always splattered mud over our legs when we ran across it as children—it isn't a failed lawn, and it never was.

Oh, we tried to fill in the mud puddles, even rented heavy machinery and graded the whole thing out, but the little wetland still remembered. God bless those indomitable puddles and wetlands and weeds, that in spite of our efforts to flatten out the differences that make each square meter of land unique from another, still declare themselves over and over to be what they are.

So we've been digging a hole. A wide, shallow hole, with an island in the middle.

And steadily, I've been transplanting in vegetation. At school there is a soggy field that sadly is mowed like any old field. The only pools where a frog could lay eggs are tire ruts. From this field I dig up big clumps of rushes and sedges, and nobody pays me any mind when I smuggle them home.

I pulled a little stick of shrubby willow from some cracked pavement near a creek, and planted it nearby. From a ditch on the side of the road beside a corn field, I dug up cattail rhizomes. Everywhere, tiny bits of wilderness, holding on.

I gathered up rotting logs small enough to carry and made a log pile beside the pond. At another corner is a rock pile. I planted some old branches upright in the ground to make a good place for birds and dragonflies to perch.

And there are so many birds! Mourning doves, robins, cardinals and grackles come here in much bigger numbers, and many, many finches and sparrows. I always hear woodpeckers, even a Pileated Woodpecker here and there. A pair of bluebirds lives here. There are three tree swallows, a barn swallow also, tons of chickadees, and there's always six or seven blue jays screaming and making a commotion. And the goldfinches! Yesterday I watched three brilliant yellow males frolic among the tall dandelions. They would hover above the grass and then drop down. One landed on a dandelion stem and it flopped over. There are several bright orange birds too. I think a couple of them are orioles, but there's definitely also a Summer Tanager. There's a pair of Canada Geese that always fly by overhead around the same time in the evening. It's like their daily commute.

The other day, as I watched, I saw a Cooper's Hawk swoop down and carry off a robin. This was horrifying news for the robin individually, but great news for the ecosystem. The food chain can support more links now.

There are two garter snakes instead of one, both of them fat from being good at snaking. I wonder if there will be babies?

But the biggest change this year is the bugs. It's too early for the lightning bugs, but all the same the yard is full of life.

It's like remembering something I didn't know I forgot. Oh. This is how it's supposed to be. I can't glance in any direction without seeing the movement of bugs. Fat crickets and earwigs scuttle underneath my rock piles, wasps flit about and visit the pond's shore, an unbelievable variety of flies and bees visit the flowers, millipedes and centipedes hide under the logs. Butterflies, moths, and beetles big and small are everywhere.

I can't even describe it in terms of individual encounters; they're just everywhere, hopping and fluttering away with every step. There are so many kinds of ants. I sometimes stare really closely at the ground to watch the activities of the ants. Sometimes they are in long lines, with two lanes of ants going back and forth, touching antennae whenever two ants traveling in opposite directions meet. Sometimes I see ants fighting each other, as though ant war is happening. Sometimes the ants are carrying the curled-up bodies of dead ants—their fallen comrades?

My neighbor gave me all of their fallen leaves (twelve bags!) and it turns out that piling leaves on top of a rock and log pile in a wet area summons an unbelievable amount of snails.

I always heard of snails as pests, but I have learned better. Snails move calcium through the food chain. Birds eat snails and use the calcium in their shells to make egg shells. In this way, snails lead to baby birds. I never would have known this if I hadn't set out to learn about snails.

In the golden hour of evening, bugs drift across the sky like golden motes of dust, whirling and dancing together in the grand dramas of their tiny lives. I think about how complicated their worlds are. After interacting with bees and wasps so much for so long, I'm amazed by how intelligent and polite they are. Bumble bees will hover in front of me, swaying side to side, or circle slowly around me several times, clearly perceiving some kind of information...but what? It seems like bees and wasps can figure out if you are a threat, or if you are peaceful, and act accordingly.

I came to a realization about wasps: when they dart at your head so you hear them buzzing close by your ears, they're announcing their presence. The proper response is to freeze and duck down a bit. It seems like wasps can recognize if you're being polite; for what it's worth, I've never been stung by a wasp.

As night falls, bats emerge and start looping and darting around in the sky above. If the yard seems full of bugs in the day, it is nothing compared to the night.

I'm aware that what I'm about to describe, to an entomophobe, sounds like a horror movie: when i walk to the back yard, the trees are audibly crackling and whirring with the activity of insects. Beetles hover among the branches of the trees. When we look up at the sky, moths of all sizes are flying hither and thither across it. A large, very striking white moth flies past low to the ground.

Last year, seeing a moth against the darkening sky was only occasional. Now there's so many of them.

I consider it in my mind:

When roads and houses are built and land is turned over to various human uses, potentially hundreds of native plant species are extirpated from that small area. But all of the Eastern USA has been heavily altered and destroyed.

Some plants come back easily, like wild blackberry, daisy fleabane, and common violets. But many of them do not. Some plants need fire to sprout, some need Bison or large birds to spread them, some need humans to harvest and care for them, some live in habitats that are frequently treated with contempt, some cannot bear to be grazed by cattle, some are suffocated beneath invasive Tall Fescue, Kentucky bluegrass, honeysuckle or Bradford pears, and some don't like being mowed or bushhogged.

Look at the landscape...hundreds and hundreds of acres of suburbs, pastures, corn fields, pavement, mowed verges and edges of roads.

Yes, you see milkweed now and then, a few plants on the edge of the road, but when you consider the total area of space covered by milkweed, it is so little it is nearly negligible. Imagine how many milkweed plants could grow in a single acre that was caretaken for their prosperity—enough to equal fifty roadsides put together!

Then I consider how many bugs are specialists, that can only feed upon a particular plant. Every kind of plant has its own bugs. When plant diversity is replaced by Plant Sameness, the bug population decreases dramatically.

Plant sameness has taken over the world, and the insect apocalypse is a result.

But in this one small spot, nature is healing...