#he was a very articulate child and he'd use it to tell adults to fuck off

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

i’m obsessed with those “itkg finds out gojo raised megumi” fics & now i’m just giggling at the idea of like every month they find out megumi is someone’s boy. it could be yuuta. shoko. maki. gojo. etc.

kamo is fighting to get megumi as his boy but :( he’s just not valid enough. yuuji is seething at the idea that everyone get to claim megumi as their own in some fucking way but meanwhile, he can barely find the courage to hold his fucking hand.

kugisaki is just wondering if megumi is like the village baby. like does she need to step up? she absolutely will because she needs a doll to practice makeup on & etc. gotta put those lashes to good use.

(also the idea of gojo using jujutsu terms to describe the most parental things like sex. god i don’t even wanna imagine his period talk.)

Megumi had to give the period talk.

It was the second worst and most painful talk of his life. It used to be the first, and then Gojo decided that Megumi needed to learn about safe sex and the magic of his changing body. megumi almost killed them both just to end that conversation.

Tsumiki was unfortunate enough to have hit her period before everyone else in her class, and she was always kind of isolated from the rest of the kids because of Everything with her home life. She wasn't inviting people over for sleepovers, and she didn't really go on them herself. Her mom was completely checked out of her life from a young age. And I head canon her as someone who tends to neglect her own needs in favor of everyone else's. So she had absolutely no idea what was happening when her period came. She hadn't heard of it at school yet. She hadn't heard of it from her mom. She hadn't thought to look up what exactly happened in puberty for herself yet. She thought she was bleeding internally. She thought she was dying. It was a point of hysteria.

It did not help that Shoko had spent years lying wildly about what happened on a girl's "time of the month" to Gojo and Geto. To this day, Megumi has no idea what Gojo thought happened on a woman's period, but it sounds suspiciously like lycanthropy. As a result, Gojo also thought she was bleeding internally. He almost teleported her to Shoko for healing. He was about to take her to a hospital.

Luckily for them both, Megumi secretly loves his sister and had very quietly prepared for this eventuality while hoping beyond hope that it would never come to be.

He didn't want to do it. He just knew that Tsumiki wouldn't think of herself and that she didn't have a mom to walk her through this. At least for him, he knew that Gojo had lived through the amab puberty experience. He assumed that Shoko would step up to the plate when the time came, but Shoko was more of a wine aunt than a mom figure, and he just wanted a contingency if she didn't.

He read a book on what to expect with puberty for afab reproductive systems. He immediately returned this book to the library. He said nothing about any of this to anyone ever. He shut the fuck up about it for years. He was happy not talking about it.

Until Tsumiki got her period. And it was treated like cause for a hospital visit instead of the corner store.

Megumi calmed them both down. He told them that they were going to shut up, sit down, and listen. Absolutely no eye contact would be allowed for the duration of this conversation. They would never speak of this again. There would be no questions at the end. Everyone shut the fuck up and listen.

It was a comprehensive and medically accurate explanation. There were diagrams pulled up from the internet. He gave one (1) stiff hug to his sister and informed her that if they ever spoke of this again, he would have no choice but to kill them both. Then, he went upstairs and tried to forget it ever happened.

legitimately every time they turn around, they find out that Megumi is someone else's Boy. First it's Yuuta, and that's a crisis and a half--mostly for Yuuji, who seethes with a quiet and unexpected jealousy. Then it's Maki, who very unexpectedly fussed over Megumi's injuries after a mission and lectured him about being careful before sending him to bed. Then it's Gojo and finding out that Megumi is literally his boy, like he's his legal adoptive son. Then it's Panda and Inumaki, who have decided that the Village Baby custody agreement that only exists in their head means it's Their Right to harass any of Megumi's potential romantic partners, leading to a very confusing conversation with Itadori, who was still buffering with his gay awakening and hadn't realized he was a potential partner.

It's not Kamo. It's never Kamo.

(Kamo: he could be my boy

Maki, not missing a beat: he really couldn't

Kamo: he could--

Maki: he never will be)

Nobara doesn't have Yuuji's homosexual drive to make Megumi Her Boy but she does have a rapidly developing codependency with him and a healthy sense of competition. Fuck it, he's her boy now. She'll do it better than everyone else. She's got Her Boys and none of them go outside without the other two anymore. They're a Unit. they're gay idiots but they're her gay idiots. Fuck off.

Megumi absolutely has no awareness of any of this happening and would not be happy if he found out it was.

[intruality-overlord]

Why Are We (Best) Friends?

Warnings: excessive swearing, alcoholism, mentions of drugs, drug use, suggestive humor, implied sexual content (no smut), some gore descriptions. Generally, Remus stuff.

Taglist: @blogging-time @veraisnotfine @littlestr @jessibbb @broken-pens @hi-its-tutty @idkanameatall @moxiety--sanders101 @theyluna-womoon

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! Updates every Wednesday/Thursday. Get ready for fighting...

Chapter Five: Fuck You

The Present.

“How much do you remember?” Remus nagged the next morning as Patton bustled around his room getting dressed.

“I wasn’t black out drunk!” Patton retaliated, “I remember everything.” Patton wasn’t, and he’ll say it again, not a lightweight. No. Not that the thought offended him in any way shape or form. “I mean, it’s fuzzy, but still,” he mumbled into his shirt as he pulled it off over his head.

“So… Logan knows and now probably the others…” Remus clutched the rumpled bed sheets, his eyes stretched wide to accommodate all his stress. Waiting for the floorboards to open their jaws and swallow him, chew and spit him out again, he stared at it expectantly. He’d rather bleed to death from splintery teeth than deal with this right now, and he wouldn’t have to if he resembled mashed potatoes. This fucking stress. This guilt.

“I’m over thirty years old! It’s normal, having a drink with a friend!” Patton dismissed with a wave of his hand, swatting Remus’s very real, very valid concerns away. Not entirely unusual. That is, if they were talking about something as trivial as why Mother Nature created hyenas the way she did. Poor things, childbirth was already messy enough.

“They shouldn’t be so shocked. Now where’s my—” Patton whisked around the room looking for a change of clothes, and Jesus, he needed to clean his room. He found his one clean polo wedged behind his wardrobe. Remus thought he was entirely too concerned about clothes when everything had been fundamentally fucked up yesterday. Clothes were overrated, anyway.

“Why did you…?” Remus couldn’t help but ask. Trying to make sense of things was a new hobby of his. He was still an amateur. Patton pulled his fresh polo on, and Remus tried to ask again hoping he’d succeed with one less distraction.

“Why did you admit we’re friends to Logan?”

Patton just looked at him like he was crazy. Crazier than he thought. “Because we are? I had just been talking about how I need to stop pretending we're not friends. Do you really think I’d go back on my word so quickly?” He said incredulously. “Hey, I think I left my hoodie under the bed again. Could you pass it?”

Remus did retrieve the garment from beneath the bed, checking there were no cobwebs or spiders on it. Then he held it, frozen. Remus rivalled Virgil when it came to thinking of worst case scenarios, only Remus wasn’t normally scared by them. Now… Remus knew he’d someday ruin everything for Patton. Ruin it like he ruins everything. That’s what happens when you’re the embodiment of bad ideas. It’s not fun anymore when he’s ruining something, someone, he actually cares about.

He just wanted Patton to be happy…

Hands rested on his shoulders, comforting and solid. “Look at me,” Patton hushed. Remus did.

Since when did his eyes twinkle like that?

“I don’t regret it, Remus,” Patton said sternly. “I can’t afford to spend every sober moment regretting everything.” Patton smiled. “I want good memories, however few.” His eyes crinkled in that simple, rare way you’d hope to see well worn into his skin one day. That private smile was for Remus.

Patton gently took the hoodie and wrapped it around his shoulders like a cape. “I’m gonna need some tequila for this.”

Oh god.

(}ï{)

Now how was Patton supposed to break the news? He chickened out at breakfast, and he chickened out at lunch, now it was dinner. There was chicken on the table and no room for more than one. God, it felt like coming out of the closet all over again. Think, what would Remus do?

“I’m not a virgin,” Patton blurted.

Oh yes, very subtle.

Cutlery clattered and clanged combined with collective choked coughing.

That didn’t quite come across how he had wanted it to. Perhaps Patton was drunker than he thought and he didn’t need that extra liquid courage right before dinner after all. He had been aiming for tipsy, like usual, when he had taken a few shots this morning.

(He didn’t know how to get through a whole day entirely sober anymore. Wake up, get dressed, have a couple shots, brush your teeth, have breakfast— it was routine. When sober, he hardly had the energy to maintain his act, but when tipsy, he was just delirious enough for his insanity to come across as jovial joy.

Yes, that did mean Patton was living with a constant hangover.

And no, he could not find the strength to care.)

Perhaps he had overshot it with his nerves making him lose count.

All well, it served the same purpose.

Last time, anyway, Patton had just blurted that he thought guys were attractive, and it turned out fine. (Which went something along the lines of:

“Boys are hot.”

“Duh.”

“They are indeed glorious creatures.”

“I can confirm that that is a factual statement.”)

Why should it work any different this time?

Wait, why is no one saying anything?

Patton looked around at his fellow sides, and they all looked like they saw a creepy crawly death dealer sitting comfortably on his head.

“Did you hear me?”

As their brains caught up, Virgil and Roman both spluttered, “What?!” There was another brief silence before the information caught up to Logan, and he too followed with a small, “What?”

Bewildered, Virgil and Roman’s heads snapped around at Logan. “You mean— you didn’t…?”

“No,” Logan said, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought I dreamt what I saw yesterday,” Logan eventually said. All of the colour was drained from him. “Yeah, I know, so surprising how articulate I can be when I’m drunk,” Patton half joked defensively.

“Do you know what virgin even means, Patton?” Roman asked slowly, hoping this was one of Patton’s hilarious misunderstandings. Patton sighed. “It means someone who hasn’t had sex before. And I have. So I’m not,” he said, beginning to curl in on himself. He felt trapped like an insect enveloped in a water droplet, not strong enough to break the surface tension.

“With you always expecting me to be honest I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so surprised when I actually am,” Patton observed bitterly. Something about the mention of truthfulness struck a nerve in Virgil, resulting in a false epiphany. “Deceit?” Virgil said sceptically. The glare pressing on Patton made him feel like he nearly lost his footing despite not moving an inch.

“Wha— no, I'm not Janus!” Patton said incredulously. “Not that being Janus is a bad thing,” he added under his breath. Patton wouldn’t be offended to be compared to Janus under normal circumstances. However in this situation, he was put off by the negative connotations Virgil was associating with Janus.

“That sounds like something Deceit would say,” Roman mused.

“Oh, you want proof? Fine! Janus!” Patton summoned. A very discombobulated Janus appeared, much to the others’ surprise. “I know exactly what’s going on,” he lied.

“You are Janus, I am Patton, correct?” Patton snapped. “...No?” Janus said, utterly confused. Slightly scared too.

“See?” Patton pleaded. Meanwhile, Janus glanced around at everyone else’s faces screwed up in confusion and some other indecipherable glob of emotions Janus deemed safe to assume as anger. “Jesus, good luck,” he muttered to Patton, and he promptly sank out.

“We just never thought— you always were so pure—”

“Because that’s what was expected from me!” Patton heaved a breath, pushing back his tears. “I committed adultery! There! I said it— and no, I don’t mean adulthood,” he announced. Those words felt like screaming in a claustrophobic space. Stretching, stuffed into a suitcase, and feeling the unforgiving, unrelenting walls. It felt like breathing in the vacuum of space.

“I knew as soon as I broke that perfect, innocent image of me you have, you wouldn’t react well. And guess what? You’re acting exactly like I expected you to!” He screamed. With another sharp, trembly breath, he vented all his frustrations out to people other than Remus for the first time.

He lost it.

“You’ve always treated me like a fucking child even though I’m the oldest. Telling me to shut up and let the adults talk, and this is a grown up conversation, or oh, you wouldn’t get it Patton even. Always sheltering, patronising me as if I’m not over thirty fucking years old,” a lump formed in his throat. “I’m Thomas’s heart. Where do you think his feelings of lust come from?!” Miserable strings of choked back words wound up like a ball of yarn into an incomprehensible howl that tumbled out of Patton.

“When I learnt what repression means, it sounded like something that perhaps wasn’t the best thing for me to keep doing, an-and I thought you’d want me to stop. That you’d be happy for me if I did,” he whimpered.

“W-we did! We are!” Roman quickly jumped in. “It’s just… just not— you… um, listen Padre, uh we,” he faltered. Looking to Logan for guidance, they just found him lost in his head, eyebrows scrunched, grimacing.

“Hold on, if it wasn’t us then it had to have been a dark side,” Virgil finally realised. Roman gasped, and Logan grimaced harder.

“I’m also an alcoholic?” Patton said in an attempt to quickly distract. It distracted them alright, only their reactions were just as bad or worse. It sent them all into a senseless squabble.

“So there was no consent then?” Virgil spoke up, mildly horrified.

What the fuck did he just hear?

Jaw slacked, breath fumbling, all Patton could hear for a moment was his thudding heart before a feeble, “Of course there was,” escaped him. “I can think for myself I-I-I’m not a child I…” And he looked like he'd just been stabbed, they saw. Between his ribs, the knife twisted, locking the blade in and exuding pressure. Because no, they’re not letting his blood spill. Can’t have carpet stains now, can they?

“He must have been manipulating you. Making you valuable with— with drinking and taking advantage of you,” Virgil said, seeming almost concerned for him. “He’s a dark side, he can’t genuinely care about you. It’s the only explanation,” Roman agreed rather bluntly.

His ears must be broken.

Patton’s eyes glistened. “How could you say that?” The watery wimper scraped his throat. “He’s my friend.” Patton wouldn’t let a tear fall; he refused. Only his true friends were allowed to see him that valuable.

“This— this isn’t— please just listen, please! I just wanted to be more honest with you all, an-and I was hoping yo-you’d accept our friendship…” Patton finished lamely.

“He is a dark side, Patton,” they said. “We are your friends,” they said. “We are the ones who really care about you,” they said. Lying was wrong, they had said. Hypocrites.

Mouth helplessly clamped shut, his thoughts ricketed around his skull like a brick in a washing machine. He wouldn’t have had to resort to alcoholism if they hadn’t made him bottle his feelings. Remus would never hurt him, he’s a good friend! Patton has been by his side when Remus was so fucking high, he didn’t even recognise him, and not for one moment did he even consider hurting him in any way! Remus cares. Maybe this whole thing was one big mistake. Patton always belonged with the others, not Virgil. And if Virgil had already made the switch over, then it was his turn. Patton had thought, hey, maybe I’m wrong. They’re my friends; they love me. But he was wrong. Stupid, nieve Patton being wrong, who knew.

Remus wouldn’t treat him like this.

Reverting to his last resort, Patton pleaded, “How can Thomas love himself if he can’t accept himself? If you can’t accept us?”

Completely unmoved, they held up their hands to address him as a scared, dumb animal. Their voice tweaked into a tone used for gently scorning a toddler, “It’s okay, Patton. It’s not your fault he’s manipulated you. We can help. He doesn’t have to use you anymore, we can do this together—”

“F-fuck you. Fuck. You. Bastards.”

As he sunk down, Patton called back one last thing, “By the way, Roman.

I fucked your brother.”

(}ï{)

Why? Why, why, why, why, why— It’s all Logan could think the whole time. It just didn’t compute, no matter how valiantly he tried to understand. Why why why why why?!

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