#hoc answers asks

[liongoatsnake]

calling it species dysphoria delegitimizes trans peoples actual medical gender dysphoria

As someone who experiences both gender dysphoria and species dysphoria and has had both accepted by every therapist and psychiatrist I've seen in the past 10+ years: The only people who legitimately take gender dysphoria less seriously because species dysphoria also happens to exists are transphobic people looking for excuses to remain transphobic. And transphobes can take a long walk off a short pier for all I care about their opinions. I refuse to deny my own lived experiences just to pander to bigots.

Do you?

[houseofchimeras]

I'm really sorry if this question is a bit of an overstep, but I'm genuinely curious!

You've been around in the Alterhuman community for so long, and you're such a prevalent name as well! How did you (and other Alterhuman folk, like Page and Orion) end up being such big names in the community? And since you guys have been around for so long, do you have any advice you'd like to pass along?

Again, really sorry if this seems pushy, but curiosity killed the cat, y'know?

I hope you have a great day!

Your question isn’t overstepping at all! (So sorry for the delayed answer, offline life has been busy and seasonal depression has left our "writing energy" a bit low for now.)

To the question on how we became “big names in the community,” our system honestly has a hard time understanding it ourselves. To be fair, our system suffers from some serious chronic Imposture Syndrome and self-esteem issues from trauma from childhood echoing mean stuff said about ourselves long ago, plus we’re just overall kind of social anxious creatures, (all while simultaneously desperately wanting validation and the idea that we’re ‘liked’ by people.) Because of all that, internalizing that people like us, let alone look up to us in the community has never been something we have been able to do. We seem to be psychologically incapable of feeling about ourselves and our work half as highly as others view us and our work. We always see ourselves as just “some guys,” in our own eyes.

We just… like writing. We have a lot of special interests and one of them revolves around the history of the communities we are a part of, and we have a lot of tendencies towards hoarding links and copies of materials relevant to these communities. So out of these two things we’ve ended up becoming a community historian and archivist of sorts. Our academic background in history (and to a lesser extent anthropology and library science) certainly has helped us develop skills towards these projects of ours.

And sometimes people like what we write, I guess. We’re always just flattered and happy people like things we have made or done.

As for advice,

A lot of our advice on community engagement is echoed in  Page and Orion’s “YOU ARE NOT A MUSEUM PIECE: Putting Yourself Out There in the Alterhuman Community” 2023 Othercon panel. Our partners, @who-is-page and @frameacloud explain dozens of things there 100 times better than we ever could on that matter.

Other than that -

- Be kind; not just to others but to yourself as well. - Create stuff you want to see made in the community and things you enjoy making, first and foremost. - Every project ever, no matter how large or small, has all started out as nothing but a blank page. Try to not see it as intimidating and instead see it as a blank canvas of endless possibilities.

We hope that answered your questions, and may you have a great day as well. - Earth Listener (she/her/hers)

[carlyraejepsans]

I love that you stick with the “sans is financially responsible” idea, but some part of me thinks the “don’t you live in a huge house?” “Yes, but my brother pays for it” “ where’s your brother get the money to pay for it…?” “Oh, that’s simple. It’s a mystery” conversation papyrus and undyne have about his house means that even with all the jobs sans has, his brother still shouldn’t really be able to afford their house, so I am a firm believe he’s committed something like tax fraud, he might pay his tab but certainly not taxes

he's Italian that's just cultural heritage

[ansitru]

Dyou think you'll ever add the "bless your heart" floral piece as a pattern in your shop? It's gorgeous and I would love to stitch it!

(Also I'm in the middle of the screaming cowboy possum and I'm having so much fun with it 🤠)

Heyhey, thank you so much!

Once I'm finished with test stitching & photographing it, it's going straight into the shop, yep!

(I also can't wait to see your cowboy possum if you end up sharing it :D)

[whetstonefires]

Political arranged marriage

Okay so this is actually a challenge option! For 1) how likely am i to write this fic trope and 2) whom for.

Because see, it's an interesting topic to me broadly speaking, but as it's used in fandom it's primarily a romance vehicle. A contrived scenario to set up a pairing in a Situation. Specifically a situation involving forced intimacy and externally imposed sexual pressure.

And like. It's not that I'm incapable of enjoying that, if it's the right blorbos handled in a way that works for me, it's a structure you can run a lot of fun dramas in, but I don't have anything I particularly want to deliver in that line, either.

Statistically at this time I'm most likely to find myself writing one of these about wangxian, because 1) my brain is in a rut help i have never cared about a ship like this in my life and 2) there are SO MANY of these damn fics in this fandom (modao zushi/the untamed), and historically 'high concentration of trope i find mildly annoying' has a high rate of inspiring me to process my feelings by producing my own iteration of that thing.

The Thing about wangxian politically arranged marriage scenario in particular is that it's a direct inversion of the context shaping their relationship in the canon.

Arranged marriages for political purposes require both parties to be actively embedded in high-status formal social webs which very proactively sanction their official attachment, regardless of personal sentiments, and any ensuing relationship develops within the framework of not being free to part.

All of this is the exact opposite of their situation; they are deliberately the exact opposite of this.

Now, if you engage with the thematic inversion on some level in your fic that's good fun, but if you try to edge awkwardly around it it gets very stale very fast. If I hadn't seen anyone doing anything fun with this I'd probably have been possessed and produced something by now, but I have, so it's eh. We're fine. It's fine.

More generally, I'm absolutely likely to depict politically arranged marriages, in general, but I don't know that it counts as doing the trope because I'm chiefly fascinated by all the ways these relationships can develop that aren't particularly close matches for romance as we typically block it out.

You know the bit in Fiddler on the Roof where after all the drama around love-matches rather than relying on the matchmaker, the dad asks the mom if she loves him, after like 30 years in a normal, traditional arranged marriage? And after initial bewilderment, having never considered the question before, she finally says she supposes she does, and he says he supposes he loves her too. Compelling. I'm intrigued.

If I'm going to write a political arranged marriage as a central feature of a story it's going to be about the social construct of matrimony and how it's conceptualized within the society in question. Necessarily this means it will also be about gender. The household as a sociological unit. Power and property.

It will also, obviously, be about politics.

So I'm much more likely to wind up doing this as a subplot in original fiction than as the premise of a fic, basically, but now I admit I am tempted to go figure out a premise for a one-shot political marriage fic for wangxian that I would find inherently interesting. I am easily baited, what can I say.

Alternate answer: i'm brain stuck in mdzs so technically the correct answer to this is like 20% and Jin Zixuan/Jiang Yanli because they're this in canon already and i'm basic like that.

[fingersfallingupwards]

Hey there! Are you still writing for the beatles fandom?

Sorry for my late reply!!

At the moment I'm not writing for anything. I am simply too busy. But I do like to come on to Tumblr to unwind a little ✨

Hopefully some writing will return either winter or summer though I never know which fandom it'll end up being 😅 thank you for your support. I'm always really chuffed to know people like my little fics.

[an-inspired-eternity]

35 and 40 for the ask game!!

this is the "takes that get me blocked" round so lets just knock em out

35. worse take you've ever seen

-if you take offense to mafuyu and tsukasa being compared to each other as narrative foils, not even someone saying they're the same (they aren't the same, but that's not my point), then you should not be in this fandom and also don't look at me ever again

-similarly if you view tsukasa as exclusively either comic relief or reduce him down to only his issues. please never talk about or write him ever 💖. also i swear to god if you even LOOK at wxs miku or saki i will blow you up

-SAY IT WITH ME KIDS RUI IS NOT INSANE RUI IS NOT A YANDERE HE IS A BOY WITH AUTISM WHO LIKES ROBOTS AND IF YOU VILLAINIZE HIM FOR BEING ECCENTRIC AND PASSIONATE YOU ARE BEING ABLEIST!!!!!! STOP THAT!!!!!!! HE LITERALLY HAD A DISSOCCIATIVE MELTDOWN OVER HURTING ONE OF HIS FRIENDS BY ACCIDENT HE'S NOT A MONSTER LEAVE HIM ALONE NOW I SWEAR TO G

-i don't think i should have to say this but some people apparently still need it spelled out in the year of our lord 2023 but mizuki is TRANS they are TRANS they arent a guy crossdressing or god forbid a trap they are TRANSFEM!!!!!!!!!!

40. a hot take?

i don't think revival my dream is a bad event and especially i don't think it was anywhere near bad enough to have warranted en cancelling the whole thing, and it makes me genuinely enraged that they just locked the entire story from the en playerbase when it's such an important part of rui's character arc? literally the worst part of the event hand to god is the girls' costumes and i really hate to have to be the one to say this but THEY ARE BASED ON PRINCESS MONONOKE. THEY'RE BASED ON PRINCESS MONONOKE!!!! EMU EVEN HAS THE WOLF IN HER TRAINED!!!!!!

like. there's ONE episode in the entire event that has some seriously questionable dialogue and. you know what they could've done instead of cancel the whole thing?

🗣CHANGE THE FUCKING DIALOGUE TO NOT BE OFFENSIVE🗣

[tar-dar]

SKIRANGER YESSS. I'll be waiting for it! and wish you good luck with a lot of strength to do it all

Skif and Stranger <3 the ultimate OTP from Stalker 2

[thebahwrites]

answering your previous post!!

this is probably recency bias but i was reading hoc on the way back from a roadtrip and the scene where jake just straight up tells the daggers about alex made my jaw fall to the floor i live for that kind of drama dude, had to keep myself from screaming in the back seat

(ps you don’t have to answer this but do u have an alex fancast?? like my brain immediately went to henry cavill when i read the scene but i’m curious what you think!!)

JSADSJGFGAFSDHASDH I ACTUALLY LOVE THAT?

that scene was one of the few I was very hesitant to write about because I wasn't sure how good it was WELL THANK U FOR ANSWERING...

👀 I actually had NOT thought about a specific fancast but you know what? Henry with a buzzcut fits it PERFECTLY I can see it, yes, Douchebag™️ energy 100/100)

(Here for whoever is curious)

what's the most memorable scene from any fanfic of mine, first that comes to mind?

[liongoatsnake]

Hey! Ran across a psych grad thesis about long-form "life story" interviews of therians, and if you all haven't seen it already, figured it'd be right up your alley--it's "Life Stories of Therianthropes", Natalie Bricker 2016, Lake Forest College; can't include the link bc tumblr, but that should be enough info to find it easily.

Oh yes, we do have a copy of it. Thank-you. It’s a great piece.

In fact, where going to take this opportunity to share it.

For anyone seeing this post and are interested, a pdf copy of this dissertation can be found at (among other locations):

Also, a recording of the panel “Life Stories of Therianthropes: An Analysis of Nonhuman Identity in a Narrative Identity Model” by bloodmuffins/Nat Bricker (they/them/their or xe/xem/xyr) from Othercon 2020, where they go into some behind the scenes information about their research, can be found here for anyone interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kCZiExARK1g .

[houseofchimeras]

Hello! I cannot for the life of me remember if it was you who argued that Dionysius was a dog alterhuman, so my question is if that was the case?

Either way thank you for taking the time to read this. =]

*Asker sent this ask fixing a typo:

DIOGENES! I MEANT DIOGENES!

We did include Diogenes in our document, A Timeline of People with Alterhuman Experiences & Related Subjects, though I wouldn't go so far as to argue that he was alterhuman. The document's purpose is to showcase persons or beliefs that have existed outside the alterhuman communities that yet feel reminiscent to what we call alterhumanity day. The document this information is in is currently under a rework as we've been doing research into the methodology and ethics around looking back into history to find examples of people who seem to fit modern day labels that relate to identity. As far as Diogenes, we're also looking into more/better references that go into his life. As the document exists as of yet most of our sources come from the book, Diogenes The Cynic the War Against the World by Luis F. Narvia. The current text we have regarding Diogenes is this:

323 BCE to 404 BCE: Diogenes was born in Sinope. Diogenes was a philosopher from Greece. He was one of the founders of Ancient Greek Cynicism and Cynic philosophy. One of Diogenes’s most famous traits that is referenced throughout the many accounts of him, is that he personally referred to himself as or described himself as a dog and there are just as many accounts of him exhibiting dog-like behaviors or thinking from the perspective of a dog. He is also on record many times likening himself to a dog or even stating for others to call him so. When introducing himself he would call himself, translated into English as, “Diogenes The Dog” but he has also become known to be called “Diogenes The Cynic” as the word “cynic” itself means “dog” or “dog-like” in Ancient Greek. Thus, his name, completely translated into English literally meant “‘a man from God who acted like a dog’” Throughout much of Diogenes’s life he was referred to as simply “The Cynic” or “The Dog.”  [1]

Many points of Diogenes’s life were written down by other phosphors and many of the most well-known accounts include Diogenes pointing out his dog-like nature or his preference toward dogs over humans. For example, it is recorded that upon Alexander the Great meeting and introducing himself to Diogenes by stating “I am Alexander the great king,” Diogenes simply stated, “I am Diogenes the Dog.” In another account, once, Polyxenus became angry upon hearing people openly refer to Diogenes as a dog; however, Diogenes simply said to him: “‘You, too, Polyxenus, can call me a dog. To me, ‘Diogenes’ is only a name that was given to me. In truth, I am really a dog, a dog of high breed, one of those that keep watch over their friends.’” There are also many accounts of him behaving in dog-like ways: he rejected and questioned customs and societal norms, he would bark (sarcastically or otherwise) at people, and so on.[2] He is also famous for living out of a tub on the streets as well as regularly eating raw meat. As a final example, Diogenes also apparently supported the idea primitivism and the idea of humans transforming into animals, especially into dogs. [3]

The philosophy of cynicism bares its name thanks to Diogenes. As the word “cynic” in Ancient Greek means “dog” Thus, Diogenes The Dog and Diogenes The Cynic are the same name. Also, in many accounts of Diogenes he was simply referred to as “The Dog” and thus he was also called “The Cynic.” Thus, the ways of thinking Diogenes helped to found, which viewed animals as being better models of life and behavior while viewing the ways of men poorly, became tied with being “a Cynic” and thus cynicism. [4]

Diogenes was not alone in his classical cynicism. There was apparently a group called the Pasupatas, who were, as described in the book, Diogenes The Cynic the War Against the World, a “strange group of people who since times immemorial found themselves attracted to dogs and to a doglike life. They had become apparently so divorced from their human context that, instead of speaking like human beings, they would bark among themselves and at other people, seeking to imitate the behavior of dogs in whatever they did. […] The Pasupatas displayed in their doglike behavior the exhibitionism and primitivism associated with Diogenes.” [5]

[1] Navia, Luis E.. Diogenes The Cynic the War Against the World. Amherst: Humanity Books, 2005, page 7-9.

[2] Navia, Luis E.. Diogenes The Cynic the War Against the World. Amherst: Humanity Books, 2005, page 62-65.

[3] Navia, Luis E.. Diogenes The Cynic the War Against the World. Amherst: Humanity Books, 2005, page 166.

[4] Navia, Luis E.. Diogenes The Cynic the War Against the World. Amherst: Humanity Books, 2005, page 9-11.

[5] Navia, Luis E.. Diogenes The Cynic the War Against the World. Amherst: Humanity Books, 2005, page 103-104.

~ Ocean Watcher (he/they)

[kerizaret]

🍯 🍭 and ❄️ for the sweet and pure ask game, please :3

Coming right up!

🍯- describe your favorite smell

You get a mug and turn on the kettle. You wait for the water to boil as you prepare the honey and milk. You cut the fresh bread your mom made and put butter on it. You hear your sister's laugh behind the door. The water boils and you pour it into the mug with a bag of jasmine tea. You add a spoon of honey and a touch of milk. You feel the smell of the bread, of the honey, but mostly you focus on the sweet and delicate jasmine smell, the same one you feel as you pass near your uni

It smells like peace and calm. It smells like smiles, and hard work rewarded by a sweet drink to end the day. It smells like love

🍭- how tall are you?

Last time I measured myself it was like 171cm iirc? So like mediocre height I guess?

❄️- what is your favorite season?

Spring! Especially late spring when it's already starting to become warmer and getting greener and more colourful ^^ it might be a bit cliché but I genuinely do feel myself coming back to life more together with nature. I don't dislike winter but I just feel so much more at peace when it's colourful outside and I can feel the warn sun rays on me. But still it's still a bit cold-ish, enough for me to still be able to sit with my blanket on, to enjoy a hot cup of tea, to not sweat and struggle with the heat, to keep my hair loose sometimes

And also its finally bright when I wake up 😭 and its so relieving bc that throws me off a lot in winter

[anim-ttrpgs]

Why So Much Combat in an Investigation Game?

Just about every time someone picks up this rulebook, we get asked “There’s more pages dedicated to combat than investigation. If this game is about investigation, why are there so many pages dedicated to combat?”

There are two answers, which are really two explanations of one answer.

The first is verisimilitude. Eureka wants the players to have a very believable and grounded experience with combat in the game, which is not something that most players and Narrators are able to consistently improvise off the top of their heads, so the rulebook provides detailed guidelines for this in the form of its combat rules. Combat in real life is also very dangerous and deadly, and survival of it often has less to do with an individual’s skill at throwing punches and more to do with their preparedness and knowledge to just not get into a disadvantageous position in the first place.

The second reason is Eureka is a game, and it's a game about investigation. Eureka wants the investigators to be investigating, not punching and shooting their way through all their obstacles. To this end, Eureka has to make punching and shooting into something very dangerous to the survival of the investigators, to discourage it as a solution in all but the most desperate circumstances. However, if combat is to be deadly, it also needs to have a lot of depth and strategic possibility, or else it wouldn’t be fun–and as a game, Eureka is meant to be fun. Rolling a couple dice that you and your character have little control over the outcome of, then finding out that they are just dead for a (believable) post-hoc reason, isn’t very satisfying.

Eureka wants the party’s skill in investigation to determine their survival in combat as much as if not more so their Firearm or CQC skills. This is how these two philosophies on combat rules writing come together. The depth and realism of Eureka’s combat rewards preparedness with survival more than it rewards raw stats, and the emphasis on investigation creates preparedness.

It is the investigation that tells the investigators that the building next to the warehouse where the gangsters are hiding out has a fire escape they could use to jump across to the warehouse roof, and from that they can sneak to a loft that will put them directly above the villains—and it is the intricacy and extensiveness of the combat rules that dictate that by being on the loft when they attack, which they got to by investigating, they have a huge advantage, but still no guarantee of survival.

They have the element of surprise which will allow them to attack first and also opportunity to make a Stealth Attack, and then once that is over, they still have cover while the gangsters have none.

The reason Eureka dedicates so many pages to combat despite being an investigation game primarily is to elevate and supplement the investigation gameplay by providing a real sense of danger as well as providing the Narrator a wide range of game mechanic tools to raise the stakes and provide obstacles, and provide the investigators and their players a wide range of game mechanic tools which they can use to cleverly overcome those obstacles.

We have provided a simplified set of “Basic Combat” rules, but these are an optional rule, with the default and intended way to play being to use every mechanic afforded to investigators and NPCs to the fullest degree.

[There is also a secret third reason why Eureka dedicates so many more pages to combat than to investigation, and it's because at the time of writing this, the chapters covering investigation have been copy-edited, while the chapters covering combat have not yet been. The copy-editing process reduced the page count of the investigation sections by about 25%, and will do the same to the combat sections when we get around to it. By the way,(You can also get the latest PDF for FREE for a limited time by joining the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club!]

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[sweet-evie]

Day in the Life of a Single Working Dad

A glimpse into the life of a single dad who's doing his best.

masterlist || pt 3

Content: Established Relationship, afab!oc, fem!oc, nameless!oc, she/her/hers pronouns for Satoru's S/O, singleparent!gojo, dad!gojo, Sentimental!Gojo, Mentions of Suguru and Satoru’s deceased lover, FushiGojo fam, Family, Fluff, Children…

A/N: Megumi is an angsty child… And Gojo’s antics don’t help. Also, I was 10 once and I had a potty mouth. Plus, I have loads of Gojo clan mentions sprinkled in this one, and they're connected to a post I made about my Gojo clan headcanons.

Never Grow Up Pt 2

November 2012

06:17 AM; Ota City, Tokyo

“Whatever happened to checking the calendar for appointment dates scheduled in advance?” Shoko snickered on the other side of the line. “And why are you rushing? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not going anywhere, but I am…” Satoru hissed, shooting a half-hearted glare at his phone propped up on a stand. Maybe answering Shoko’s FaceTime call was a bad idea.

“Why would you forget that Satsuki has her third vaccination scheduled today?”

“Trust me, you’d hate hearing the story.” He muttered through a mouthful of cereal.

“Sometimes I wonder what happened to the Gojo who would whine about his day not going okay. Where is he?”

“Buried under baby formula and diapers.” He grouched and shoveled the last of the sugary snacks into his mouth.

Catching movement at the corner of his eye, he turned to flash a bright smile and a wave at Tsumiki coming down the stairs dressed prim and proper in her school uniform.

“Come off it, Gojo, you have it easy. All you worry about is showing up on time to wherever you’re needed. And you never even do.”

“Okay, untrue.” Satoru knew Shoko was only joking. Did he have to mention the ad hoc lesson plans and the paperwork for the most recent missions he’d been sent on, plus the occasional parent-teacher meeting sprinkled in-between? “But I am self-aware enough to know that I have people helping me.”

“All that and you’re still a mess.” Megumi interjected, appearing behind Tsumiki with his school bag clutched between his hands. He barely evaded his sister’s elbow.

“Hey~” Satoru whined… Loudly. “I feed you!”

“The cook feeds me… He feeds you too.” Megumi shook his head, approaching the island counter to take the school lunches that had been prepped meticulously. He blurted out a quick ‘Hi’ to Shoko through the phone before busying himself with arranging his things. “Who packed this by the way? Kaihara comes in at lunch time today, doesn’t he?”

Sometimes Satoru marveled at how easily Megumi memorized everyone’s schedules in the house. Satoru knew who came in and out of the house too, of course, but he didn’t exactly bother remembering what time they were supposed to clock-in for their shifts. He was just used to seeing people outside of his family in the house, doing what they were hired to do.

“I would like to say that great teacher Gojo is good at packing lunches too, but I can’t take the credit. It was all ‘Miki.” Satoru grinned, reaching over to squeeze Tsumiki’s shoulder affectionately and pat the top of her head. 

“Don’t look too relieved now.” Shoko piped up.

Satoru had almost forgotten they were still on-call. “I’m not even going to bother asking what you mean by that because it’s nothing good. I’ll see you at the school, Shoko.”

“See you… Bring Satsuki’s important medical documents.”

“Gojo, if you’re really busy today, Megumi and I can always take the train.” Tsumiki offered, smiling at him sweetly as she finished zipping up her school bag.

“And be late to homeroom class? No way!” Satoru protested playfully, sticking out his tongue.

“Because you always show up on time, don’t you?” Megumi muttered sarcastically, only all too eager to push Satoru’s buttons this early in the day.

Grinning impishly, Satoru took threatening steps forward with his hands outstretched, ready to mess with the boy’s carefully styled hair. Megumi was about to swat his hand away — infinity be damned, when Ms. Yumiko — one of the hired nursemaids — wandered into the kitchen carrying a gurgling wriggly baby in her arms.

“Satsuki!” Tsumiki cheered, coming over to greet the happy girl.

“Full from breakfast and fresh from her bath.” Ms. Yumiko was grinning, bouncing her adorable charge in one arm as Tsumiki teased, tickled, and cooed at the baby. “Everything you’ve requested is on the table in the foyer, Sir.”

Satoru began ushering Megumi to move forward, snagging his blackout glasses left on the dining table as well. “Thanks, Yumiko. I know your shift’s barely begun, but you can clock-out early if you want. I’ve already told Kaoru and Shiori they can take the day off too, since Satsuki’s coming with me today. Isn’t that right, Princess?”

Satsuki turned her wandering attention from Tsumiki to her own father as Yumiko held her out to him, all the while babbling a continuous stream of, “Da-da” as she was transferred from one place of safety to the next.

Satoru knew she didn’t understand what that meant yet, but he’d take it. His baby was looking for him. “Right here, ‘Tsuki.”

Father and daughter giggled at each other as Satoru eagerly participated in baby talk, cooing and mouth popping at the little girl. She had on a cute blue dress dotted with white kittens, complete with matching shoes and headband. Satoru didn’t think he was being biased if he said Satsuki was the cutest baby in the world. It wasn’t an unfounded brag either… It was just facts.

His baby girl with snow white hair, the prettiest amber eyes, and the puffiest cheeks. Like a chipmunk…

She should be a Disney princess.

“Hey, Gojo!” Megumi grumbled, peeking around the hallway to scowl at him. “Satsuki will be late for her shots if you don’t hurry. Tsumiki’s already in the car.”

He didn’t mention that he and Tsumiki would be late for school too if Satoru kept dawdling.

Satoru gasped dramatically and grinned when it elicited another giggly reaction from the baby in his arms. “Oh right! We can’t be late, Princess. Shoko will kick my ass.”

“Language!” Megumi huffed from the foyer.

“She doesn’t even know what it means yet!” The man whined, launching into a tirade. “You cuss all the time, and yeah, I can hear you cussing through the walls. But do I call you out? No, I don’t, because it doesn’t matter!”

“Fuck off.”

Satoru cackled like a demon out of hell as Megumi’s footsteps faded away, followed by the door closing. The kid didn’t take shit and knew how to tell people off. He couldn’t wait to see how that would serve him in the years to come — especially as a sorcerer.

If Satoru bothered to look, he would have seen Yumiko standing politely to the side, shaking her head at the antics in this household. When she’d first taken on the job, she had been made to believe that this was a serious undertaking and she would have to maintain strict propriety and formality at all times — express reverence to the head of the Gojo clan and the wielder of the Six Eyes… Reality couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Stay safe, Master Gojo. Thank you.” She bowed as he passed by.

“Thank you, Yumiko. The house is yours!” Satoru waved as he made his way to the foyer and the genkan to get his shoes, phone in one hand as Satsuki busied herself chewing and drooling on the collar of her father’s leather jacket. “Clock out anytime and lock up. See ya!”

=OoOoO=

08:13 AM

Satoru pushed his glasses farther up his nose as he watched Megumi sullenly trail after Tsumiki as they passed the school gates. The kids would leave primary school behind very soon, moving on to Junior year. He should probably have Ijichi start looking into junior high schools they could transfer to. Two more years of that, and Tsumiki would continue to senior high school, while Megumi would relocate to Jujutsu Tech — on-track to becoming a full-time sorcerer.

Tilting the rearview mirror ever so slightly, Satoru grinned at Satsuki nestled snuggly into the comfiest car seat his money could buy. She was busy touching and nibbling her Yukimi Botamon plushie. That one would get its turn in the washing machine soon — about to join the other Digimon plushies victimized by her curious hands. He’d heard of parents who got upset with kids who tore up their toys, but it didn’t really matter to him. He would just buy her more.

“Should we stop by Starbucks, Princess? Auntie Shoko demands payment in coffee.”

Her reply came in wet babbles and a single squeal that Satoru took as a ‘yes.’ Putting the sedan in reverse, Satoru carefully backed away from the parking spot he’d stolen from an angry mom when he’d arrived ten minutes ago. Megumi and Tsumiki looked at him like he was crazy, but really, the angry lady didn’t have to get so defensive.

He glanced at Satsuki again as he left the school and drove to the closest Starbucks he could find. She was still babbling to herself. He was late for his own first year class at Jujutsu Tech, but it didn’t really matter. The kids could train with their upperclassmen just fine. Besides, he knew the moment he set foot on campus with Satsuki in tow, all sins would be forgiven in favor of entertaining the cutest, most precious baby alive.

Even Yaga couldn’t reprimand him for tardiness if he was toting Satsuki around.

Shoko accused him of using his daughter as an excuse and a shield to get out of trouble, and they were right. But who cared? Satsuki certainly didn’t. She just wanted to eat her baby food and play with her toys.

Besides, if all else failed, he could always hit the higher ups, who had the audacity to complain, with excuses along the lines of, ‘My kids are waiting for me at home.’

Being responsible for three growing children was a tall task, but in this at least, Satoru Gojo could admit he’d had it easy.

Well, easier than most.

Most people had budgeting to think about. They had to juggle work, child care, home maintenance, and healthcare. Most people were not privileged enough to be born into a family that provided their every need. Most people couldn’t move from one upscale residence to the next in just five days. Most people didn’t have a wealth of connections they could call or the money needed to take care of this and that to expedite processes as much as possible.

(What do you mean there were technical legalities to having a baby outside of marriage? Something about Supreme Court rule enacted last month? What do you mean there are lengthy legal procedures needed to legitimize the birth of his daughter just because he and his Love weren’t married yet when they had her? Apparently, the surname ‘Gojo’ didn’t have much weight if she wasn’t considered legitimate under the eyes of the government’s law.)

Satoru Gojo had the backing of an influential clan who had footholds in and out of jujutsu society. The majority of them cared too much for the family’s reputation as a whole and had resolved to help “cover” the “shame” Satoru’s “careless dalliances” brought them. It was a ridiculous mindset to have, really, but as powerful as Satoru was, he couldn’t change the way people thought.

It didn’t matter to him as long as he got what he wanted and Satsuki could grow up without worrying about legal bullshit around her birth.

Part of him wanted to whine about it to someone — about how much his life resembled a neverending whirlwind now, but Satoru was self-aware enough to know that he had been granted enough privilege and enough resources to make his life manageable. His younger self certainly wouldn’t have thought about it like this. If he had thought his life was busy before having Satsuki, he wished his old self could see it now.

=OoOoO=

10:02 AM; Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School

The drive up to Jujutsu High had been mostly uneventful. The only real hiccup had been when Satsuki started crying and he had to pull up at a gas station with a convenience store, so he could run inside and hopefully find something she needed that he didn’t have. But really, everything should be in the baby bag that Yumiko packed before they left home this morning.

Turned out, the baby needed a diaper change, and Satoru didn’t know what was worse: the fact that Satsuki had to be uncomfortable now of all times or the fact that diaper-changing stations were only in the women’s bathroom. It wasn’t a problem because he could warp in, do his business, and warp out, but it was still quite baffling.

Why did people in-charge of making restrooms and toilets neglect to put diaper-changing stations in the men’s room?

With Satsuki now strapped to Satoru’s chest, her baby bag slung over one shoulder, and Shoko’s unhealthy umpteenth dose of caffeine in hand, Satoru kept using Blue to move quickly up the stairs to Jujutsu High up until he reached Shoko’s clinic in the school.

Satsuki was giggling again, humming, and babbling ‘Da-da’ over and over as her tiny fists gripped the front of his dark gray shirt. Her little head moved this way and that, taking in colors and shapes that didn’t have a name in her growing brain. Satoru didn’t miss the way his baby kept staring up at him though, and who was he to refuse his daughter’s whims when she babbled like that? And if he had to blow his own saliva bubbles and pop them loudly so she would give him that cute gummy smile, no one had to know.

“Well, if it isn’t the deadbeat father.” 

Shoko joked when Satoru stepped through the door of her clinic at Jujutsu High. She was taking the unlit cigarette out of her mouth to drop it in her stash.

“Nice joke, Shoko. You should try something funnier next time.”

Shoko snorted and helped him unload. The baby bag was deposited on the couch, and the Starbucks coffee left on her desk — plain old cold brew for her and a cola frappuccino for Satoru. Holding out her hands, Satoru gladly passed his baby over to Shoko while he rid himself of the carrier.

“This is her last round of vaccines right?” He asked, fishing out the documents Shoko asked him to bring earlier this morning.

“Da-daaaa~ Da-da Da-da.”

“Yep.” Shoko nodded once and turned to the gurgling baby in her arms, voice turning soft. “Is ‘Da-da’ the only word you know? Say Shoko… ‘Sho-ko.’”

Satsuki giggled, popping drool bubbles in her mouth. “Da-da! Da-da Da-da.”

It devolved into incoherent babbling after that as Satsuki moved around in Shoko’s arms and stared at everything and anything. Satoru snickered and reached over to wipe off the drool from the corner of his daughter’s mouth.

“You’re so gross, ‘Tsuki. This after you made a mess on the way here too?”

“Huh, I wonder where she gets it from.”

“I’m offended.”

“You should be.”

Leaving a pouting Satoru, Shoko went to get everything she needed for the vaccinations. Satoru took Satsuki back and made her sit on one of the patient beds. Shoko took her time preparing everything, but it was hard to ignore the conversation happening behind her — a nonsensical conversation, but it was one nonetheless. It was a mix of baby talk and so. Much. Giggling.

People could say what they would about Satoru Gojo at this point, but anyone who worked closely with him couldn’t deny that he loved his daughter dearly — so enamored by her too.

With Satsuki sitting on a patient bed, propped up by her father, Shoko began administering the shots methodically, and Satsuki’s giggles turned into loud wailing and a lot of fussing.

Satoru cooed, wiping fat tears that rolled down his baby’s cheeks, and when they were done, he took her in his arms, tucked her head into the crook of his neck and calmed her down in the softest, most saccharine voice Shoko ever heard him use — a voice he used just for his baby girl. In some small way, it felt wrong to be there. It almost felt like intruding on a very private family matter.

“Sshh~ why’s my baby cryin’? Did it hurt, Princess? It’s just a tiny boo-boo, don’t worry about it.” 

He patted her back, left kisses on the top of her head, swaying side to side a little until the tears stopped and the aftereffects of the vaccine took hold.

“You don’t mind if I stay here a bit, do you?” Satoru gestured towards the sleeping baby in his arms. “She’ll wake up hungry and I have to feed her afterwards.”

Despite herself, Shoko had to laugh a little and nodded her consent. She sat next to him on the couch with a medical report in her hands. The clinic was silent — almost as if no one was there. Shoko intently read the document she’d been studying before he got here, while Satoru contented himself with scrolling through his phone while a baby slept on his shoulder. 

Time passed slowly in silence, and after a while Shoko spoke up quietly.

“When are you moving back to your apartment in Roppongi?”

“I’d like to do it before ‘Tsuki’s first birthday. Everything should be settled by then. Also, we haven’t exactly been weaning her from breast milk, but she doesn’t like it much anymore. Is that normal?”

“She’ll be 7 months old soon.” Shoko fiddled with the corner of a page. “It should be fine. Some babies feed on breast milk until they’re 2 years old, some are weaned early by their parents, and some don’t have a preference for it at all. Humans are strange like that.”

“Oh…”

“Sometimes it feels like only yesterday that you moved into that house in Ota.”

“I know, right?”

“Does your mother know that you’re planning to move back to your apartment?”

“I’ll tell her soon, after I’ve finished arrangements to move all of the kids’ stuff to my apartment and after an interior design crew finishes remodeling the space to fit children. Less trouble that way.”

Shoko chuckled quietly. “Look at you being a responsible adult. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Satoru wanted to say that it only took losing Suguru and the Love of his life to childbirth, but he held his tongue. It would be a stupid joke to make, and it wasn’t even that funny. If he had done things differently after that failure of a mission to bring Amanai to Tengen, maybe Suguru would still be here… If he had been a tad more responsible, maybe his girlfriend didn’t have to lose her life.

This was the reality he lived in now, and he’d promised himself he would do anything in his power to give Fushiguro’s kids the life they deserve and love his daughter enough so she would not miss out on the affection her late mother would have lavished on her.

So even if the situation was far too complicated, he’d waded through the knots, got his hands dirty, and did his best to sort things out.

After Satsuki’s birth, his mother had been adamant about him spending more time in the Gojos’ expansive ancestral home — the family’s estate, located further in the outskirts of Tokyo. There, he would have had access to a small army of hired nursemaids that could cater to Satsuki’s every need. The women in his family and his own mother had more knowledge about childrearing and experience than he ever could, but there was the fact that if he let it happen, they would isolate him from his own baby — pushing him towards his duties instead. 

That was not something he wanted, and the Love of his life would hate him if that ever happened. He made a promise to her.

Satoru would have preferred to raise Satsuki in his spacious 4-bedroom apartment in Roppongi from the start, but his mother did have a point. For the first few months of Satsuki’s life at least, his schedule required convenience. Roppongi was in the heart of the metropolis. His apartment was the perfect bachelor pad and entirely ill-fitted to house a newborn and all of her needs.

He settled in Ota City, which was somewhat closer to Jujutsu Tech and his family’s ancestral seat; moved into one of the residential properties registered under his name as clan head. It was a private two-storey home maintained by a live-in caretaker after the clan purchased it two years ago. 

The propositioned army of nursemaids were reduced to three, scheduled to come in shifts throughout the day so Satoru would have assistance 24/7. His mother hired a cook for him, someone in-charge of nutritional meal prep for Satoru and the children under his care. The housekeeper and the gardener the family had hired when the house was purchased would retain their duties, reporting to work twice a week to make sure the property stayed neat and tidy.

So while he was indeed busier than ever before, his life wasn’t as messy as it was expected to be had he been forced into a situation where he had to deal with all of this by himself.

“Megumi gives me enough shit about it.” He joked, shaking his head at the memory of Toji’s son.

“You think you can manage without the nursemaids and the cook after you go back?”

“I could keep them around if I wanted too, but nah. The apartment is serviced, and honestly, Tsumiki knows how to work a kitchen anyways. I’m her sous chef you know.” He declared proudly, flashing Shoko a grin that reminded her of a much younger, more-carefree, and more insufferable Satoru.

“I pity whoever’s on housekeeping duty when they have to clean your apartment.”

“So mean.”

=OoOoO=

04:55 PM; Ota City, Tokyo

The rest of Satoru’s day fell into a routine. After Satsuki got the last round of her vaccines, she had woken up hungry, fed from a bottle, and then she was strapped to her carrier, before Satoru went off to check on his first years. 

He had four of them this year. They were nothing to write anyone home about though. Two of them were more suitable for support — perhaps as assistants, and the other two were guaranteed sorcerers. They could get to Grade 1, if they pushed themselves hard enough — which looked like it wasn’t the case, because all four always did prefer theoretical lessons over practical applications.

And all four shared the same sentiment towards him bringing a baby to campus.

They adored Satsuki… Of course they did.

Satoru was predisposed to believe that anyone who didn’t, didn’t have a heart.

One of the girls, Eri, jumped up from her perch under a tree and rushed to Gojo first, squealing Satsuki’s name all the while. The other three followed and Satoru let them fawn over the baby girl while he delivered a verbal lesson on cursed energy control right there on the field. The students fiddled with her headband, cooed over how cute her little dress was, and watched her fondly as she played with the Digimon plushie that Satoru brought over. Yes, he derailed from the lesson from time to time to accommodate his baby whenever she squealed, “Da-da,” but for the most part, Satoru Gojo stuck with his version of a ‘routine.’

Finish a lesson at Jujutsu High, check the list of missions that were filtering down to the students, skip the paperwork (he’d make Ijichi do it, easy), receive mission briefs from Yaga, pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school, and finally head home.

He wasn’t really one for routines. Living the same way every day was just boring. Whatever routine he’d managed to put together for the last couple of months had been ragtag… Impromptu. In a sense, it wasn’t really a routine, was it? More like a list of daily plans that got moved around the board by order of changing priority.

Megumi was quick to point out that it was a disgraceful mess if Gojo ever called it a ‘routine’.

Satoru had to give him credit though. He and Tsumiki were better at holding down the fort while he was running around taking mission calls from the higher ups, being a teacher, and being around Satsuki enough to witness her milestones.

Just like now…

Phone tucked between chin and shoulder, the furrow between Satoru’s brows did not disappear the longer he listened to an urgent mission brief on the other side of the line. 

Megumi had closed the front door behind him and was heading to the living room to do his homework. Tsumiki cast one last concerned look at Gojo before turning away to follow her brother.

A shrill squeal stopped her in her tracks and she spun around to see Satsuki staring straight at her, one arm outstretched and pointing in Tsumiki’s general direction. She was babbling and blowing bubbles again and when Tsumiki outstretched both hands towards her, Satsuki squealed and gurgled some more.

“One second.” The clipped and curt tone instantly shifted into a cheery voice as Tsumiki approached. “Mind taking her for me, ‘Miki?”

“Nope. Come here, Satsuki.” Tsumiki smiled, carefully taking Satoru’s baby girl into both of her arms. “Can you help me do homework?”

Shifting the wriggling baby into one arm, Tsumiki brought over her school bag, plopping it next to Megumi’s as she claimed a spot on the carpeted floor. The television was on a nature documentary channel, and it held Satsuki’s attention while the siblings started to take care of homework. Megumi sighed, looked up from his notes, and paused immediately after.

“Tsumiki, she’s eating her fingers again.”

The brunette stared down at the baby lying on her lap and clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Oh dear. Satsuki, no… Your hands are not that clean.”

Tsumiki tried to take Satsuki’s hand out of her own mouth, but the baby began to whine in protest. She wasn’t crying yet, but soon she would be. The moment her wail gradually increased in volume, it was over. Tsumiki hadn’t even realized Megumi had left his spot. He startled her a little bit when he tapped her shoulder and held out the jar full of multi-colored pacifiers that he’d taken from the dining room.

“Da-daaaa! Da-daaa! Da-da Da-da~” Came the long, drawn out wail that Megumi had been afraid of — all before Tsumiki had the chance to stick one of the suckers into her mouth.

“Well, you know who to call if you don’t get your way, huh?” Tsumiki tutted, gently pressing the pacifier nipple to Satsuki’s lips.

She latched on to it, and Tsumiki wiped down the baby’s hands with gentle antibacterial wet wipes that she’d fished out of her bag.

“How is she spoiled already? It’s only been six months.” Megumi huffed, plopping back down on the carpet.

Tsumiki giggled. “I don’t think she knows she’s spoiled, to be honest.”

“You said yourself, she knows to call for Gojo if she wants something.”

“That’s just what it sounds like. But really, does she even know what ‘Da-da’ means?” Tsumiki mused curiously. To Satsuki, ‘Da-da’ was just a word that brought Satoru to her. So what was the comprehension level of a six-month-old?

“I don’t know.” Megumi shrugged.

“She knows all of us and everyone coming and going in this house, and she’s attached to Go—”

“Heyyy~”

Tsumiki and Megumi turned to the direction of the owner of the voice. As expected…

“I heard a Princess crying. Is she okay?” Satoru sauntered over to them with that ever present grin. The glasses had been tucked away in favor of a black blindfold. It hung around his neck.

“Mhm… Just fussy.” Tsumiki piped up, stroking Satsuki’s hair while the brunette rocked back and forth slowly. “She wanted to eat her own hands, so Megumi had to get the pacifiers.”

Satoru snickered and eyed the jar of flavorless suckers that the kids had abandoned on the couch. Satsuki was happily sucking on a Leafmon pacifier.

“Tried one of those once. Sucks that they’re so bland.”

Megumi wondered if Satoru realized how crazy his statement was. Even Tsumiki was giving him side-eye. God forbid Satsuki inherited her father’s sweet tooth. It would not end well if the food supply around the house slowly shifted to just sweets. Thank the gods for Kaihara who always brought fresh produce and vegetables that Megumi could actually eat — except red bell peppers. Fuck those!

“Seriously? How old are you?”

Megumi should have known better the moment he saw a shit-eating grin spread across Satoru’s face. “Old enough to have a baby and raise them apparently?”

“Gross.”

“Hey~ What’s wrong about having kids?”

Megumi glowered at him — an expression too eerily similar to a man Satoru knew not too long ago. “Shut up. You’re gross.”

Satoru laughed obnoxiously. “I don’t know what you mean, Megumi.” 

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. They all knew Gojo knew… It was just one of those silent cues that said, ‘Drop the subject.’ Heaving a dramatic sigh, the man hopped over the back of the couch, landing smoothly next to Tsumiki. The brunette propped Satsuki up, so she was sitting on her knees, and Satoru’s expression brightened even more as he kissed his daughter’s forehead.

“Mind her bedtime, yeah?” He patted Tsumiki on the head and reached over to tousle Megumi’s hair — the latter felt unfortunate enough to receive it because he was not quick enough to evade him. “And you—” He zeroed in on the baby and tickled her tummy so she giggled, pacifier nearly falling out of her mouth “—be good to ‘Miki and ‘Gumi.”

“Hm?” 

“A mission?”

Tsumiki hummed just as Megumi asked.

“Yup. In Aoyama and Suginami. Depending on how this mission goes, I may or may not be around tomorrow morning. Yumiko’s coming in early though, and Kaihara prepped meals that can be reheated in the oven for breakfast if you want them. Otherwise, there’s cereal and cookies!”

“Be safe, Gojo.” Tsumiki smiled at him with so much sincerity, lifting Satsuki’s little fist to mimic a wave. The tiny girl stared up at her dad with big amber eyes, still intently sucking on her pacifier. “Don’t worry about us.”

“I’ll try not to be.” He grinned and rose to his feet. “Oh and about the ride to school tomorrow. If I’m not here by morning, Ijichi will be around to pick you both up. Yumiko and Kaoru will take care of Satsuki. I’ll be off! Good night, kiddos!”

=OoOoO=

Contrary to what he’d said, Satoru did make it back home before the children were due to wake up. A single glance at the property assured him that everything was untouched — no sign of attempted entry on both the physical premises and the layers of protection barriers over the home. The talismans infused with his cursed energy remained undisturbed — probably more than enough to ward off any threat that wanted to come close.

Unprovoked physical and supernatural attacks were rare for him (actually close to nonexistent because what curse or curse user would be stupid enough to launch an assault on Satoru Gojo?), but you could never be too sure.

Someone left the light at the foyer open — probably Tsumiki. She was mindful like that. The rest of the house was neat and quiet like always. Even before he’d had Satsuki, Megumi and Tsumiki were always responsible kids that picked up after themselves, and Satoru appreciated it. It wouldn’t have been a problem if they were messy because the apartment in Roppongi was clean-serviced routinely, but the Fushiguros’ tidiness and sense of responsibility that matched an adult’s was a sad reminder of how they were abandoned too early and were forced to grow up.

The watch on his phone displayed 4:47AM in white bold letters.

He took the stairs two at a time and made a beeline for the room beside his — Satsuki’s nursery. It was a usual sight: Satsuki in dream land, her night light was on, the winter-themed animal mobile hanging above her bassinet was turning slowly in circles too, and the room smelled of baby powder mixed with something distinctly floral. What was not usual were the kids sleeping comfortably on the large bean bags on the floor, sandwiched between the Divine Dogs. They were supposed to be in their own rooms across his own, but nope… Tsumiki was clutching a Digimon plushie — completely unaware of the presence of a canine conjured from her brother’s shadows, and Megumi had an open book on his face, the fingers of one hand buried in the Black Divine Dog’s fur.

What a sight to come home to…

He didn’t really say it, but he truly did appreciate the way Megumi and Tsumiki cared for his daughter like she was their own sibling. He had the Fushiguros as his wards first — looked after them together with the Love of his life, and when Satsuki was born, the situation could have turned sour quickly because of the swift change in living arrangements and the introduction of a baby that would take the majority of his attention. They could have been resentful… They could have been jealous… They could have thrown tantrums.

Instead, he had Tsumiki being her kind and sweet self as always, while Megumi was… Megumi. The kid was a grouch from the moment they met, but Satoru knew that he cared — in his own quiet ways. He and Megumi were similar like that, but Megumi was reserved and preferred to keep to himself where Satoru often forgot what personal space was.

Snapping a picture of the domestic scene that stirred something in his chest, Satoru turned and left the children in their peaceful slumbers, making his way to his own bedroom to catch a nap.

If he could come home every day to a sight like that… he’d never complain about a single thing in his life ever again.

[whetstonefires]

“😂 who even are you?”

Hahaha why does it matter

well because one faceless shadowy figure in sunglasses may just be a plot device, but when it's clearly the same person popping up and pursuing a theme with their identity cloaked that's a mysterious character.

you're supposed to want to know who that is, and if it's someone you know doing a bit, or a stranger with an unknown agenda.

tuxedo mask of strangely intense random analysis demands re: superhero comics.

[fingersfallingupwards]

Just stopping by to say I’m reading your time travel fic on ao3 and it’s a mind bender as well as being fucking awesome. I adore fics that screw with the time line and having multiple Pauls and Johns running about is basically my dream in spite of all the joyous chaos they would cause. Thank you 💋

Heyy thanks so much! I feel like I was in an altered state when I wrote it but I also had so much fun piecing it together. Always glad to know people are still getting things out of it. I think for a group which is well known for their many phases, getting to see those phases interact is just awesome. (And as you say very chaotic!)

Thanks for reaching out love 💗