#i figured i should just post this thing here too

[nostalgicmiscellaneous]

This is long, but i need to get this out of my chest:

I have made so many post defending Penelope when people talked about her issues, her traumas but right now i feel like defending Colin.

As a woman, sometimes i naturally tend to feel defensive and shield the girl but i need to be fair here. Colin's feelings and trust were deeply hurt, Colin is insecure, soft, thoughtful, introspective, sensitive and suffers with a inferiority complex, and he struggles to know his place in society and among the people he loves, on what he should do and the expectations of society from a 22 years old man.

What many don't seem to realize is that Colin, even before knowing Penelope is LW, was very insecure about what she loves in him ( and even if she did in fact love him, because she was about to marry someone else), about being worth of her, he says he wants to do something, to publish his diaries because he wants her to be proud of him…he already didn't think he was good enough for and to her. Colin is insecure about not being good enough in every aspect of his life, tbh. His lack of purpose, faith in himself and on others loving him from whom he is runs deep. His moment of vulnerability telling how much Penelope not answering to his letters affected him, his family too was very revealing. Him screaming at Pen with tears in his eyes that he felt foolish that she read his diaries and praised him as something special. This is something i've noticed even in other seasons too. The family not caring much about his need to connect and his somewhat strained relationship with Anthony, who wasn't really a good male figure to him. It's about male ego? A bit, but it's deeper than that in the series.

Another issue is, he put Pen in a pedestal too ( much like Pen did until 2x8), to be honest, and that is never a good thing, because people are not perfect. And he needed to learn all that. There is disappointment there. But, again, it goes further. It’s him not knowing her as he thinks he should. It’s him perceiving her humanity but reflecting on his own. We have to remember he's so happy because Pen chose him, because he thinks now he's someone's priority and he's someone's focus. He has the immature idea that you should be everything in every way to the person you love, and if you can't be their protector and the hero in their eyes, why should anyone love you?

Then he finds out…and his worldview crumbles. Not only Penelope broke his trust and hurt him deeply - and she never told him and never would have - and it wasn't just himself but his family too, but she shattered his belief he knew and connected with her better than almost anyone else, she shattered his barely there newly found confidence and sense of purpose, what he thought was his sense of self now. All modern sensibilities tend to be ruffled about this, but i think it's a fitting conflict that he would have issues with her being so self-sufficient, so successful while he believes himself to be less, way less than her, so to Colin she doesn't need him, and if she doesn't need him, why would she love him? Why should she love him?

Again, there is the side of him conflicted about knowing her. The pedestal was broken, because she lied to him. She is this powerful, talented, successful woman on her own, not just the pretty shy girl with sweetness and great witty personality that he loves, the one that thinks the world of him. She talked about him, she criticized him and while it rings true deep down, it rings devastation, because she could see beyond his farce and it makes him look and feel pathetic.

So he's struggling with two things: on how to love her, all of her, and how to feel good enough for her, love himself. He's trying to accept her new wonderful aspects and her hurtful flaws because he never stopped loving her, in no moment we see anything but love when that man looks at her, when that man is crying because of her and his deep sadness and longing, his anger is laced with so much love for her. He's angry at her but mostly at himself and he needs to figure it out a way to feel like he deserves to be loved by her. It fuels his issues and he also over compensates.

His hang ups with LW becomes his tangible target. Not only he sees as a dangerous thing to her, it puts her at risk, and with that in mind he can put himself in a role of her protector again, but he fixates on the idea that without Whistledown she's the Pen that he can believe is able to love him even if he's not good enough. Without Whistledown she's not so much above him and not so far from him, because Whistledown is her critical eye, it's Penelope appraising people very analytically and if she looks closely, he doesn't think she will see much in him, as she proved before with he S3 ep1 comment. He wants to get rid of it.

Sure, he's jealous too, he envies her success but exactly because he resents how much that makes him less worthy. It's also another thing that he thinks she's putting above him. He couldn't see clearly that it wasn't something outside herself (and he gets it after), but part of who she is, and all of those parts loves him. It's foolish and it's nonsensical because he doesn't understand that she has seen his flaws but she loves him anyway. He needed reassurance just as much as Pen needed. He needed her to keep on telling she loved him and why, because it heals him.

Some people were upset he didn't make love to her that day he went to get a blanket, but i get it. He wants it, he wants her so badly, you can see it. Colin has problems communicating and doing what he wants because he feels pathetic, jealous and that makes him feel worse, makes him feel shame. It’s him, not her that was the issue at that point. His connection with her runs deeper, it's respecting her and himself, with all the conflicted feelings why he didn’t.

It’s a slow process and i’m bloody glad it took its time to be resolved. But he starts understanding that his way wont help them, it wont bring them closer. He wont solve things by controlling and being the hero. He can’t change the past, he can’t change who they are. He wont solve anything by repressing his love.

Pen words help him figuring out a lot, her spoken words directed to him and her written words that he reads again. She needs him. She tells him she needs him and his love, not grand actions. He can show love and be worthy by supporting her. He starts to understand and ACCEPT that Whistledown is Pen, and loving Pen will include that part of her personality. He grasps that it was always there and it never made a difference in how much she loved being around him and him her, how much attention she dedicated to him, how much her words, in her letters, were full of admiration for him, to her love to him, how much she is his special person. She needs him just as much he needs her, she needs his love, his charm, his intelligence, his humor, his integrity, she needs him because without him she doesn’t feel complete, she doesn’t feel happy. He’s a good man, a fine man that makes her happy, always have. And he realizes she inspires him, she always had, and that isn't a problem, that having her helping him is not a problem, because he helps her too in many ways. It’s only when he can accept himself as equal and entitled to her love as she is to his that they could truly be together and happy.

Colin had the right to feel hurt, had the right to have his insecurities, had the right to need time and had the right to need space, had the right to lash out, had the right to come to term with the changes and surprises life threw at him, specially as a sensitive person that he very much is, and i'm glad the show didn't rush that.

[karasuno-planet]

Hallo😆 how about some of the karasnuno boys when they have a crush headcanons?? If u don't wanna do multiple characters, that's ok!! I'd love kageyama headcanons!!

Karasuno boys having a crush HCs <3

includes: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Nishinoya, Daichi

a/n: YESSSS TY FOR THE REQUEST and here's some cutesy hcs to fluff u up !!

Kageyama Tobio:

he would avidly deny it but he is suuuuch a blusher, he just turns pink at the slightest things

acts totally cool, but everyone on the team notices his sets are faster when you're at a game

if you help him with his homework suddenly he seems locked in, until you look up at him and realize he's sneaking looks at you

even with your help his grades do not improve im sorry

totally checks you out with the full look up and down without realizing he's doing it

thinks he's really slick but the entire team knows about his crush

would try to smile at you but give you the creepy grimace by accident 😭

if you asked him to work out with you he would push himself wayyy too hard to impress you, probably gets yelled at by Ukai at the next practice

makes extreme effort to give compliments, gets coaching from his sister

GIFT GIVING- always little things like a drink from the vending machine

regardless of your skill or lack of skill at volleyball he would ask you to throw to him or hit his sets

"Why are you always looking at my hands?" swbfvouyqwrbefnh

Tsukishima Kei:

struggles to not just avoid you like the plague when he gets a crush

wants you to come to games but would never ask you, if you do show up he would play way harder

he's actually kinda good about being discreet about it, but yamaguchi definitely knows and encourages him to confess

always fiddling with a pen in his hand when he talks to you in class

"Do you think I should grow my hair a little longer?" "Why? Do you think y/n would like it??" "Shut up."

has a nervous compulsion to push up his glasses

makes playlists about you that he would only share after like yearsss of a relationship with you

low-key gives you sass and would love it if you reciprocated that. and that's def not the only thing he wants you to reciprocate.

if you were in his advanced classes he would kind of initiate an academic rivals thing, but if you weren't he would offer you help with your classes.

chat should I write a tsukki academic rival fic??

Nishinoya Yu!

he's a bold mfer but a little shy when you give him any attention in return

would ask your favorite color just to show up at school the next day with this blond streak dyed whatever color you say

tanaka knows. he fs knows. and they avidly abuse the word rizz.

noya is a little embarrassed that he's a pervert when he has a serious crush 💀

makes nicknames for you

would ask you to come to games to watch him play, and smile at you when he made an impressive save

stands up really straight when you're around to make himself a little taller

goes absolutely crazy if you compliment him. happiest boy alive.

"You should call me Noya-Kun"

figures out what kind of music you listen to and then posts stories with it

will "jokingly" flirt with you

"wait, did that make you nervous..? If I didn't know better it might seem like you like me...!! oooooOoooooo"

Daichi Sawamura:

CLASSIC HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND

he's got that promposal planned

would love for you to come to games and would give you his jersey

is honestly shameless about having a crush, and if it went on for long enough without anything happening between you he might just casually confess

rubs the back of his neck when you talks to you

he kinda speaks quieter/softer when he's alone with you

keeps his crush kinda quiet but definitely tells people he's close with, this makes Asahi act particularly nervous around you because he's scared of giving you a bad impression!

is very protective of you but not in an obnoxious way

always offering to walk you home

typical movie-star smiles at you all the time

takes notice of you and compliments you really genuinely

"Did you do your makeup today? It looks great."

[masterlist]

[puckinghischier]

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. Absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wander what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

[rupeenotruby]

@isasan347 made a post about Fable doing her ssbu stuff in front of Legend and I thought the idea was quite humorous and so I made a comic!

I chose to go with her lightning kick because her three main special moves are just the great fairy spells for OOT which would then belong to Time and her down b isn't very iconic since it is a more recent addition. Lightning kick has been there since the beginning and is the first thing I think of when I think of Zelda in ssb.

I started working on this comic a few weeks ago but had to put it on hold because of my finals. But now they are over and I have finished this! There is a lot I dislike about this comic (namely the dialogue, I didn't really script this out like I should)(If you have a better final punchline you are welcome to edit the panels with it (2nd to last), I changed it so many times and am still not the biggest fan of it). But there is also a lot I like! I actually finished it for one! Yipppe! I'm still figuring out how to draw everyone and wouf! It was a challenge (shoutout to four though he's a real one). I'm probably going to study their clothes a bit more before making another comic though. I'm also still figuring out how to write all these guys so they might be ooc, sorry about that too. Also here's the rough draft if you want to see it(if you zoom in you can see the original ending (maybe)):

Anyways, if you have read this far, I have a favor to ask: You see it has been a while since I have made a comic for human consumption, and I would like some feedback. Is the text big enough? Do you understand what is happening? Anything really bothering you about it? Anything you really like? Etc. Etc. I am open to constructive criticism.

I will take this time to complain about Zelda's horrible heeled-sandal-boots. They are evil and awful and horrible and every other negative thing you can think of. That is all.

[mumms-the-word]

A Final Death

Pairing: Gale x gn!Tav Summary: Gale has ascended and has returned to his chronically ill lover in order to ascend them, only to realize that they have died while he was exploring godhood. He departs for the Fugue Plane to find their soul and offer them divinity once more. ao3 link A/N: This is inspired by an angst ask I got in my inbox (hi anon!!) but it got so long that I decided to make it its own post. CW: death

Wait for me. Give me time. Soon, I will return with the means to ascend you, and you will never have to fear dying again.

Those were the last words he had said to Tav before leaving them. The sight of them on the docks watching him bow and back away was burned into his mind, even long after ascension. They were stunning in the light of the rising sun. As beautiful as they had ever been, and more.

And oh so fragile. Brittle. Broken. The condition they had maintained so carefully before being taken by the nautiloid had proven taxing, dangerous, even deadly on the road to Baldur’s Gate. True resurrection should have cured it, but it never did, no matter how many times they sought Withers’ help, resurrecting their broken, dead body with true resurrection spells.

A curse, Tav later told him. The nasty result of a hag deal gone bad. Since then, every injury healed wrong. 

The evidence of the curse was staggering. Broken bones that never fused together just right. Bruises that never seemed to fade. Cuts that always seemed only half-healed. A persistent cough that would go away only to be replaced by other pains, other illnesses. A perpetual state of pain, never ending, ever changing, managed only by a careful schedule of potions and healing spells and rest. Some days were worse than others. Some days they felt only the dim pains of a single bruise. But never, not even once, had they admitted to a single pain-free day.

But there was no promise of rest and healing on the road and no end to the fighting. Yet still, they pressed on. Still they fought. Still they endured. Until finally the Netherbrain crashed, defeated, into the Chionthar, and Gale had the means to end their suffering at last within reach. For the first time in months, they could rest.

He hoped the last few months had done them good. That they had found ways to heal and secured the rare, nearly-pain-free day as they waited for him. He had dedicated all of his time in the pursuit of ascension, and then after that, in testing the limits of his godhood. He had to know what he could do, what he was capable of, before he returned. He only had one chance to ascend them. He wanted it to be perfect.

As he materialized outside the Elfsong Tavern room, the one they sometimes shared when he and they longed for a night with just the two of them away from the others, the one his beloved had promised to be in while they waited for him, he wondered what kind of god they would become. Perhaps a god of healing, focusing their efforts on healing spells and potion crafting. Or perhaps they would hate that idea and surprise him. The god of knitting, they might suggest, the most mundane thing possible, or the god of puns, making use of that humor they used nearly every day to cope with the pain. He smiled to himself, remembering their many jokes, as he waved a hand for the door to open on its own.

He stepped inside, dimming his celestial light, only to find the room was quite dark without it. His smile faded as he gazed about the room.

Empty.

No, not empty, he realized, as a figure unfolded themselves from a chair in the far corner. The figure approached, slow and silent, the whisper of their ragged robes the only sound in the room.

“Jergal,” Gale said.

“Well met, young god,” Jergal said. His expression was that same old blank expression, his mouth just shy of a faint smile, and his eyes glimmered in the dark just as they had months ago, back when Gale had been mortal. “Thou come seeking that which is no longer here.”

“I can see that.” He could sense it, too. Though other souls slept, ate, and drank in other rooms beyond this, the only two entities present in that room were himself and the Final Scribe. “Where are they?”

“Gone.”

Gale tried to ignore the flicker of irritation kindling within him. “Yes. I’ve noticed. Gone where?”

“They are where they must be…until they goest where they must go.”

The irritation only grew. Jergal had always been vague, but that was when Gale had been mortal. Now, they ought to speak as gods do, one deity to another. The Final Scribe need not hide divine secrets from the God of Ambition, now that they were equals.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me,” Gale said, “then I shall simply have to find them myself.”

“Thou wilt search these planes for some time, I fear. They are not here. They are…beyond.”

“What do you…”

All at once the meaning came to him. Gone. Beyond. 

Dead.

“That…cannot be,” Gale said, refusing to believe it. But Jergal merely stared, silent. Waiting. Waiting for him to accept it.

Again he refused. He cast his senses wide, stretching out his mental presence far beyond the reaches of the Elfsong Tavern, over the whole of the city, and even further beyond, briefly touching hundreds of souls at a time, seeking, searching, hoping to brush against the soul that had once called to his own. The soul that had been his match. He would know it as soon as he found it, so familiar was it to him, though this was the first time he sought it out as a god.

But there was nothing. Though he felt the first embers of pride, the fanned flames of hungry ambition among dozens of souls, he couldn’t feel the one singular soul that he desired.

They were gone. And he knew, even if he searched the entire surface of Toril, that he wouldn’t find them. Not on this plane.

Tav was dead.

He struggled to find his voice “When?”

Jergal’s gaze softened briefly. “Nigh on forty days past.”

“That long?” he asked. “It can’t be, I was only gone for…” But even as he said it, he knew his estimation would be wrong. Jergal looked sympathetic.

“Time runneth differently when one is immortal,” he said. “As thou well know.”

Again Gale struggled to comprehend the news. Not because he misunderstood—he could see the truth as clear as crystal. Tav was dead, their soul having departed from the mortal plane days ago, and he had missed it. 

That was the part he couldn’t fully grasp. How had he missed the day, the very moment his own beloved had faded out of this life? Their brilliant life, bright as a star in the sky, snuffed so quickly—again. 

He should have felt it. It should have been, to him, the same sort of feeling as losing the light of a single candle’s flame in a vast darkness. Or perhaps a feeling like a chill, a dread, a pit in his stomach. He was divine. He could sense souls in a way he never could as a mortal. He should have felt Tav’s passing.

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t even recall what had been the focus of his attention forty days ago. A single day was like a breath to him. There and gone in a flash. One didn’t count every breath they took in an hour, much less in a day or a week. Had so much—so little time passed without him noticing?

He set aside those concerns for now. “I see,” he said quietly. “That is unfortunate. But it is time to bring them back now, if you would. That is why you’re here, is it not? To resurrect them?”

“No.”

Gale frowned. “No? I don’t understand.”

Jergal was quiet a moment. By the time Gale was certain he would simply refuse to elaborate, he closed his eyes briefly and then reopened them.

“I came to them in their final hour,” he said. “To offer them my services. They greeted me as a friend.”

He paused. Then he lifted a hand to his head and touched his temple. As he drew his hand away, a small orb of light followed after his fingers. A memory, Gale realized, as Jergal sent it floating toward him. Gale cradled it in his hands, letting it sink into his silvered skin, and immediately his vision was flooded with the memory.

He saw Jergal approach the bed in the room, sitting down in a chair at the bedside. For a moment, Gale almost didn’t recognize the figure on the mattress, lying beneath the folded sheets, but as he drew closer there was no denying who it was.

Tav.

He had never seen them look so frail. The months since their victory had wasted them away until they were left looking more dead than alive. Their skin was as thin as paper, their usual tones now cast over with a gray pallor. Dozens of bruises bloomed on their skin, all in varying stages of healing or freshness, and their lips were colorless, their hair thin. He could see their bones sticking out, their skin stretched over them, as though half their muscle and fat had dissolved away. They had the look of a corpse about them, even as they opened their sunken eyes and turned their head toward Jergal. 

He wanted to think them beautiful—this was his beloved—but he could only stand, vaguely horrified at the sight of mortality at its worst. There was very little beauty here, only wretchedness. He hated the sight. Not Tav—never Tav—but all the evidence of what the illness had done, the pain, the injuries.

Why had Tav not sought healing?

The sight didn’t seem to alarm Jergal as he sat at their bedside. “I heard thy call,” he said quietly. “What dost thou require?”

Tav turned their eyes toward Jergal and reached one weakened hand toward them, a faint smile on their lips. “Maybe I just wanted to see an old friend one last time.”

“Thou art dying.” It wasn’t a question.

“I know.”

“Then dost thou require my resurrection services?”

“No.”

Gale jolted. No? No?

“He isn’t coming, is he?” Tav whispered, their hand still outstretched toward Jergal, lying inert on the sheets. 

“Thou speakest of thy wizard. Thy newborn god.”

Tav’s lips twisted. “He’s not my god.”

Gale stared, his fists clenched at his sides. Shock and pain and anger swirled within him, tangling together in a complicated knot that was all too familiar, all so dreadfully mortal, that he couldn’t help but hate it.

“He’s forgotten me, I think,” Tav whispered.

The knot in his chest stopped swirling all of a sudden, frozen and cold. Forgotten…forgotten? 

He wanted to rage. To tear this memory to shreds. To claw his way back in time and make Tav see the truth. Forgotten? Never.

But even he couldn’t alter the fabric of time.

You’re wrong, he wanted to scream. You’re wrong. I’m here. I’m here!

But it was just a memory.

Jergal said nothing at first to their remark, but at last he spoke. “Thou knowest I can give thee more time. Is that why thou hadst called?”

“No.” They breathed in shakily and Gale could hear the rattle of their breath as their lungs struggled to take in the air. “No. I just…didn’t want to be alone. When I died. For the last time.”

The last time.

The words echoed in his head, but he couldn’t stop the memory from playing out.

Jergal nodded slowly. “I see. And so thou didst call me.”

“Yeah. I decided…who better to watch me go than the Final Scribe?”

Jergal chuckled softly. “Ah. Thou hadst found it out.”

Tav’s smile was crooked, a ghost of their old humor. “I followed the clues. You made it kind of obvious.” They moved their hand closer again to Jergal’s. “Will you stay with me?”

“Is this truly what thou wishest? To die, and not return? If I recall, thy wizard hath promised thee eternity.”

Tav swallowed once, twice, silent. When they blinked, the glimmer of tears appeared in their eyes and then was blinked away. “I…don’t think I can wait for that chance, old friend. He’s been gone for months. Silent for months. What if he has forgotten me? And even if he hasn’t, this body…all the pain that just keeps building, I…” 

They swallowed again, and this time the tears leaked from their eyes, dripping down the sides of their face. They took another shaky breath, and then couldn’t speak the words. Another rattling breath, and then a faint whisper, choked with tears.

“I don’t think I could start over and endure all this again. I don’t think I’m strong enough to wait for him.”

The words nearly drove Gale to his knees. He had been so close. Only days, mere days separated this memory from his reality. Tav couldn’t endure for a few more days, after yet another resurrection brought them back to life? They couldn't have endured one more cycle of death and rebirth, for him?

Why couldn’t they have waited?

For the first time, he began to understand the pain they kept hidden from him. Even as he understood, at the time, comparing the pain of the orb to Tav’s experience, even as they had bonded over a mutual knowledge of what it meant to be in pain every single day…he’d never realized the depth of their pain.

That it would be so bad that they would wish for death, even when promised eternity.

I don’t think I’m strong enough…

“Oh, my love,” he whispered. “If only you could have endured it, I…”

But the memory didn’t wait.

“It’s stupid,” Tav said, swallowing and finding a bit of strength to speak above a whisper. “I’ve died so many times since the nautiloid. I used to hate it. But I realized a while ago that…waiting there in the Fugue Plane…it was the only place I was free of this pain.”

“Thou were free of thy physical body in death,” Jergal said. “And where the soul doth go, physical pain doth not follow.”

“Exactly. You understand.” Tav took a deep breath, this one less difficult. “I think that’s why I’ve decided…the next time I die…I want to stay there.”

Jergal offered no opinion, he merely tilted his head and watched Tav, his glimmering eyes unblinking.

“So?” they asked. Again they inched their hand closer to Jergal. “Will you stay with me until I go? I know my soul is in safe hands with you.”

“Yes,” Jergal said, and at last he reached out to take Tav’s hand, his withered fingers curling around theirs. “I shall guide thy passing, as in days of old.”

Tav smiled again, their relief relaxing their entire body. “Thank you,” they whispered.

The memory faded as they closed their eyes, the moment of Tav’s passing obscured from Gale’s vision. He tried to cling to the memory, to see the moment of their final breath, but it was gone. Jergal had kept it from him.

He felt…empty. Hollow. For one, terrifying moment he wondered what all this divinity was for. If not to share with his lover, then…what?

But a spark kindled within him again. Was he not the god of ambition? Was he not the god of taking risks for the highest rewards? What was death to a god like him?

“You know where they are,” he said, turning once more to Jergal. “Take me to them. To wherever their soul resides.”

“Thou knowest as well as I that it would be of no use,” Jergal said. “Thy beloved’s soul is beyond thy reach, now. They hath made their decision.”

Gale could feel his anger rising, as it always did these days when someone dared to suggest what he could or couldn’t do. Anything was possible, given enough time and enough power—that was his creed as the god of ambition. 

“Fine,” he said, keeping his voice carefully controlled. “Then I will seek them out myself.”

“Go, if thou pleaseth,” Jergal said, watching him turn away. “Perhaps it is best thou see them for thyself. But I will not aid thy search.”

“No matter. I will find them. Even if it takes me aeons.”

So saying, he left the material world, casting his essence through the planes, heading for that ever-shifting realm of the dead.

———

He materialized at last in the Fugue Plane, obscuring his presence and divinity in a fog that matched all the rest as he moved through the vastness of the gray plains, seeking, searching, looking for Tav. He scarcely knew what he would say to them, other than all the questions he wanted answers to. But he had to see them.

Why couldn’t you endure? Why did you think I had forgotten? Why did you stop believing in me? Why didn’t you wait?

Anger and despair fought for dominance in his mind, anger at Tav, anger at himself, despair at losing Tav, despair at his own follies. But something in his divinity kept him from ever really taking the blame. He was a god, after all. He knew better than mortals. It was Tav’s mortal reckoning that was the problem. Their mortal frailty. Their mortal inability to see the scope of eternity beyond their brief lifetime of pain. Perhaps if he had given them more glimpses of divinity, to show them what they had to look forward to…

His train of thought halted as he finally found them standing among the gray. Tav. His love.

They looked as they had in life, when they were at their very best. Healthy, standing straight, their hair full and thick, their skin clean and without blemish. They were stunning. Beautiful.

But gray. All over gray, in the same shades as every other wandering spirit here. Colorless and without vibrancy.

Yet...more solid than the wandering souls around them. Gale paused, remaining in the fog, watching. They stood on the plains, looking around, but not with the dull, aimless look of a soul shambling directionless in this plane. No, they appeared alert and confident, as if they knew themself, as if they had purpose.

After a moment, they seemed to find what they were looking for. They walked over to another soul that was sitting on the ground. The soul’s gaze was lifeless, dim, just the same as every other soul around them. This soul was a shade of their former self, their memories and life already slipping from their grasp. Tav softly called their name and held out their hand.

Kelemvor has sent me, they said, offering the soul a kind smile as the soul looked up slowly at them. I can take you to the City.

…Kelemvor?

Suddenly Gale understood.

Thy beloved’s soul is beyond thy reach.

So that’s what he meant. 

Gale had come with two, perhaps three ambitious plans in mind. If he couldn’t convince Tav to be resurrected and then ascended, he had planned to ask them to be resurrected and then become his Chosen. If Tav didn’t agree to either, then Gale was prepared to ask them to join his domain in death. One way or another, he thought, they would be together. As gods, as a god and a Chosen, or as a god and a faithful soul. Together forever.

His divine mind hadn’t conceived of a fourth option. He hadn’t anticipated what was now clearly Tav's new reality, irrevocable and unchangeable. Yet it stood before him, the evidence as obvious as day.

Kelemvor had claimed Tav’s soul before he could. Tav was beyond his control.

Though his anger flared up briefly in response—how dare Kelemvor claim his beloved before Gale had even had a chance to speak with them?—his anger soon cooled as he watched Tav take the hopeless soul by the hand and help them to stand.

Come with me, they said to the soul. I can guide you safely to the city.

Tav had been chosen as one of Kelemvor’s spirit guides, to help guide souls to the City of Judgment, or perhaps even to other gods’ domains, if Kelemvor’s judgment were so inclined to send them there. As Gale watched the two of them disappear into the fog, Tav leading the other soul gently by the hand, all his questions, all his anger, all his despair melted away,

He was left feeling hollow.

His ambitious plan had been thwarted, long before he’d even had a chance to enact it. The defeat should have stung, but instead he felt numb to it.

All that time spent exploring his godhood in order to ascend Tav, wasted. Yes, he had to admit, despite the humility churning his gut with discomfort, he had been too enamored with learning the limits of his power. But he hadn’t been gone long.

They chose this over him…?

He hovered in those gray, shifting plains, a cloud of fog amidst more fog, as he contemplated the matter to himself. Ran a thousand useless scenarios in his mind for how this could have gone differently. Tried to tease out new paths forward, only to be blocked at every turn by the rules of divinity and souls. He didn’t notice how much time had passed, until movement drew his gaze back to his surroundings.

Tav had returned. Only this time, it was clear they weren’t looking for a particular soul. They looked around them slowly before saying, out loud, “I know you’re there. You can come out now.”

They wouldn’t say such things to a soul they had been sent to guide. Which meant only one thing.

They were looking for him.

He hesitated at first but then decided that no more harm could be done. Not to them, anyway. And how much worse could his divine heart break, really?

He dropped his cloak of fog, settling down to stand just a few feet away from them. As soon as he materialized, their eyes were on him. Not shocked or surprised. As if they had been expecting him.

There was, however, a faint hint of nervousness in their face.

They locked eyes in that gray space, the fog swirling around them. A silver-toned deity, glowing with electric blue divinity, and a grayscale spirit guide, their eyes burning with silver light. They watched him silently for a moment, waiting.

Gale opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg, to argue, to weep, but not a sound issued forth. What was there to say? They were out of his reach now. Separated from him for an eternity.

In the end they spoke first.

“Kelemvor said you were looking for me,” they said, in his silence. “I suppose you have questions.”

He had so many questions. But has he watched them stand before him, looking more alert, more confident, more vibrant with energy and vitality than they had been in life, even on their best mortal days, his questions all died on his tongue. All save one.

“Are you…content?”

The question surprised them, he could see it in their face. They nodded. “I am. You’ve probably already guessed what I am, then?”

“One of Kelemvor’s spirit guides. To lead the lost souls wandering this plane to the City of Judgment to await Kelemvor’s judgment of them.”

“Yes.” They hesitated. He could sense the words on their tongue that they wanted to say but were uncertain about. He saw them swallow the words back.

“I have a purpose here,” they said, instead. “There are so many I can help. So many places to travel in this line of work. Sometimes, when Kelemvor decides someone fits a different god’s domain, I even get to visit it with them as I take them there. I’m still trying to figure my way about, but…”

They trailed off, again uncertain. Gale could only smile.

“It suits you,” he said softly.

And it did. In life, they had longed to travel, to see new sights and meet new people. And then when forced to travel, it had brought them nothing but pain. Yet even so they had pushed through, seeking to help everyone they could, even as they themself were hurting, broken by battle and their curse.

He still felt there were better alternatives—could he not have made them a god of new things, of rebirth, of travel, of care for the downtrodden, or more? But they had chosen this instead.

He should have expected nothing less and nothing more.

“Thank you,” they said. Again they hesitated, until finally, in a burst of words, “Gale, I’m sorry. I know you said—”

But Gale held up a hand, stopping them. “No. No need to apologize. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

They frowned. “And yet you must think me the ultimate fool for giving up your offer of godhood for an eternity of playing messenger and guide.”

“What I think doesn’t matter,” he said. “But…no. I could never think you a fool. You simply…chose the path you felt was best for you.”

And now there was no turning back. 

They both lapsed into thoughtful silence at that, each of them watching the other. He could feel them studying him, taking in the new glimpses of his divine presence, the silvered skin, the lightning crackling at his temples, the white-blue glowing eyes. Here in the Fugue Plane, the two of them didn’t look that dissimilar, with all the grays and silvers that coated Tav’s body now as well. 

He still loved them, he realized. And he would always, he felt, love them. But that love had shifted. He was the god of ambition now, and they were a spirit guide of Kelemvor. Separated in death, yet still part of the same godly realms.

“Gale,” Tav said uncertainly. “I know you’re a new god, and there’s no one, that I know of, who is worshipping you who has died just yet. But when they do…perhaps Kelemvor will be kind enough to let me guide those souls to your domain. Maybe then we could…see each other. Once in a while. From a distance.”

Gale smiled at that. He could just picture Tav arriving at the edge of his domain, leading an ambitious soul to him. “A visit every now and again? I’d like that.”

“It won’t be every time, mind you,” Tav said. “There are a lot of guides. And you’re responsible for picking up your own faithful.”

Gale chuckled. “I am aware.”

“But other souls…ambitious souls who didn’t know you but that might fit your domain…well.” They offered him a little smile. “I’m just saying maybe this isn’t goodbye. It’s just…until we see each other again.”

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Gale would never forget the chance he missed with them, to have them reign as a god at his side. But the hope shining in Tav’s silver-toned eyes was impossible to ignore or destroy. If they were content with this lot, perhaps, in time, he could be too.

“Very well,” he said. “I look forward to your first visit to my domain, then.” He gave them a little bow, a return to some of his mortal mannerisms.

Tav nodded, their smile faint, but as full of love as they had been in life. “Until we see each other again, Gale.”

He returned their smile and gentled his voice, bringing with it all the tenderness and love he still felt for them, and may yet feel for them for an eternity.

“Until then, my love. I will be waiting.”

[ghcstao3]

vampire x monster hunter……….i am so respectfully asking for more (im foaming at the mouth)

(original post) i shall do my best. again i got a little out of hand with word count. cw blood (of course)

-

John knows he should be happy about Simon's return.

He knows he should be happy to be reunited with his once-best friend even if it's after over a decade, because all this time he'd thought Simon was dead. He knows he should be happy that Simon would return here, of all places, to make amends, to catch up, to do whatever it is old friends are meant to. He knows this.

And yet... John can't help but feel on edge.

John is happy, of course he is. It isn’t often he’s surprised as he was when the knock at his door had been Simon. It isn’t every day an old friend returns from the dead. But he can only be fed the same excuses over and over so many times before he grows wary in Simon’s presence, which is really, truly the last thing he wants.

Being told I'm not hungry, I'll eat later would only be of any worth if Simon had said it once or twice, and not for every meal offered. It might be a cause for concern if Simon did not still appear consistently healthy and sated in spite of it.

Not to mention the sneaking out at odd hours. New creaks and groans have since developed in John's old house, ones Simon wasn't aware of, clearly, until the first time he makes his mistakes. It all just... worries John. Frightens him. Of course people change, and certainly over thirteen years, but it all seems to raise far more questions than there are answers that Simon is willing to give.

And then all of the sudden it makes too much sense, and John finds himself wishing Simon had never come back.

With the regularity at which people disappear in and around the town, John doesn't notice any difference after Simon's arrival. No increase or decrease, no change in occurrences that might tip John off to a new creature needing to be hunted.

This particular hunt was meant to be carried out like any other; John was heading out alone as the creature he was after didn't pose so much a threat to require help, it would be clean and quick, then he'd return home. He leaves a note for Simon, who may or may not have gone out himself, grabs his gear and vanishes beneath the cloak of a cloud-filled night.

Vampire, is what little information he'd been provided with, and so vampire is what he prepares himself for.

John has long since been a stranger to bloodshed. Really, it's necessary he not be squeamish, especially when so often he comes across scenes like this—this being the messy feasting of what could only be a newer, more inexperienced vampire. The unfamiliar hunger like nothing else usually makes them far more reckless when it comes to finding food.

This fledgling isn't any different, judging by the large smears and smatterings of blood leading right to John's culprit.

A figure sits hunched in the dark, accompanied only by the sound of tearing flesh. When John had first been learning, the lack of breathing that should be present when drinking so fiercely had made him uneasy, but now it merely serves as a reminder that he should hold his own breath, lest he catch the vampire's attention.

John wields a silver dagger, creeping forward as carefully as he might in approaching a wild animal—these monsters are just about the same, anyway.

But John underestimates how elevated this particular fledgling's senses would be. They pause the moment John takes a step toward them, sitting up straighter, immediately alert. Their face remains obscured, but John can see them cock their head, presumably listening for his pulse.

He expects an attack. Expects a fight so as to not become the next course.

What John hadn't expected—or maybe a subconscious part of him had—was for the figure to rise slow and cautious, head bowed in what John might dare call shame. What he hadn't expected was for the vampire to turn on their heel and have John met with none other than—

"Simon?"

His head remains hung, silhouette still impossibly imposing. It's hard to discern much in the low light, but John imagines Simon's irises are currently a scarlet red as opposed to their usual warm coffee brown, if evidenced by the blood that covers his face and drips from his chin.

"Johnny." His voice is hoarse, but it's most certainly Simon's. He can probably hear the way John's heart picks up pace, be it out of fear, or be it out of use of a nickname Simon has so far avoided since their reunion. "Johnny, I'm sorry."

“Simon, wha—“ John frowns and finds his guard falling, yet his grip on the hilt of his knife only tightens. “I don’t—“

“I can’t help it,” Simon rasps, begging. “I can’t… I learned how to control myself, I did, but when I’m around you…”

Simon is directly in front of John in the blink of an eye, frigid hands curling around John's, around the dagger. He allows the tip of the blade to dig into his abdomen, unflinching as it pokes past clothes and just barely breaks skin. John holds steady, more than capable of pushing it further, but unwilling to hurt—or kill—Simon until he's given a reason to.

Never mind the mangled corpse on the ground just a few feet away.

"How long?"

"Johnny—"

"How long, Simon?"

Simon doesn't meet his eyes. They're dark either way like this, in this lack of light, but John still feels like something isn't quite right about it.

"A few months. A year, maybe. Two," Simon confesses. "It's all muddled."

For reasons John can't describe, somehow it stings knowing this... affliction has only been short-term. Because instead it could have been an explanation for Simon's disappearance—let alone that of his family's that he still often wonders about. Because instead it could have been a reason for Simon to have stayed away for so long even as an adult.

But it's not.

"Then why come back now? And why come back here?" John hisses. "You're a fuckin' dafty, y'know that?"

Simon's mouth parts, and for the first time since his arrival John finally catches a glimpse of his fangs; razor sharp and promising a swift but violent death for John should Simon's instincts get the best of him.

He then seals his lips in a thin line, swallowing whatever words he may have had prior. Simon offers a solemn nod of his head, his theme of shame so insistent.

Against John's better judgement, he retracts the knife. Tucks it away, and forces space between them. The overwhelming stench of iron is beginning to make him nauseous.

Softer, much softer than Simon deserves at the moment, and far too reminiscent of a past long gone, John says, "You were supposed to be the leveller-head between us."

Simon huffs. "'Be easier if constantly listening to your pulse wasn't driving me mad."

Oh.

"Oh." The pounding in John's ribcage does him no favours in picking up speed again. Then, suddenly realizing where and why he is, John attempts to steel himself, clenching his jaw and taking deep, slow breaths to calm the flutter of his heart. "Well, quit listenin' then."

Simon regards him curiously, in a way so painfully familiar to a past life.

A silence stretches on between them, tense and riddled with uncertainty. John tries, pointedly, to ignore the elephant still in the room, but between the blood and the smell and the looming issue of them being a vampire and a monster hunter, it's nigh impossible.

But even still—John thinks it'd be less right to kill Simon now, than to let him free. To bring him home.

John sighs, suddenly and immediately overcome with fatigue. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger for just a moment, rubbing the skin to unsuccessfully self-soothe. He wishes there was some sort of... protocol, for this. Maybe then things could be easier. Could make more sense. Just for once.

"I'm not—" John pauses, takes a breath, shakes his head. "I won't kill you, Simon. Not... now, at least."

Simon nods. "That's all I can ask for."

"Good, because that's all you're getting." It's a lie, and they both damn well know it, but just a little longer would John like to linger in ignorance. "Now just... clean this up before anyone sees. We'll talk about this more in the morning, alright?"

"Alright."

John offers a tight smile, whether or not Simon can really see it.

"Right. Goodnight, Simon."

"Goodnight, Johnny."

John hovers only a second, hooked on that nickname as he's always been, before he finally pivots on his heel and starts off the other way, turning a dutiful blind eye like he really shouldn't be doing.

He had missed Simon, he really had—but he's afraid to start wondering if this will all be worth the trouble, in the end.

[philosophiums]

hi sam ok now i would love to know if you have any jji hot takes 👀

KJSDBVDKJFBV trying to get me #canceled i see i see /jkjk

i kind of only have one really Hot Take i guess (i have an uncountable amount of opinions but those have been said before by myself or others, or are just... yknow. vibes and feelings and preferences), and it's that:

gege is a character writer, specifically with an emphasis on character relationships (mirrors, foils, family, [perceived] romance, etc.), but he is not particularly skilled at plot (and specifically seems to struggle with balancing story within the plot), and i think a lot of the current animosity towards jjk would not exist if he had really buckled down on and maintained the level of character-centered storylines that we got at the beginning.

i will elaborate under the cut bc i don't think everyone needs or wants to read my thought processes KJSDBVJKDBV

jjk, in my opinion, has a very clean dividing line that is Everything In The Beginning and then Everything Post-Shibuya. up to the end of the shibuya incident, the story is character-driven (though a bit fast-paced, it still manages) and has a very clear and defined goal (not for the characters, though they also have their own motivations, but for the plot): get yuuji to eat all of the sukuna fingers, and then execute him. obviously a story has to story, so there are antagonists getting in the way, and there are underlying themes and actions that make that goal more heartbreaking, but it is laid in stone right away that there is no happy ending here (yuuji will die) and the best we should hope for is happy memories along the way, while the best we can hope for is the characters figuring out a way to get around this doomed reality. we had a great main cast and a through-line for the plot and, most importantly, circling themes of character/relationship mirrors, cycles in general, and the connecting thread between power and a severing or loss of humanity (which all created a story).

there's a reason so many readers are unhappy with the culling game arc and the sukuna fight, and i think that reason is the really hard pull away from characters being able to drive the story (it's a little bit about pacing too, i think, because the culling games were long and boring, and the sukuna fight has equally been long and predictable). i truly think the worst mechanical decision gege made for jjk was separating the main cast during the culling game arc. it created a "need" to introduce a million new (pointless) characters, and all it did was underline and emphasize that character (as a writing tool) doesn't actually matter to the story anymore.

like objectively it's not... bad. there is (probably) a plot that he's following, and he (probably) has an end-goal in mind and a conclusion that he is gunning towards. he is maintaining continuity and wrapping up loose threads that were mentioned in previous chapters. things are linked. but like.... it's just so, so hard to care about what's happening in the plot right now because A) so much tragedy based around characters we don't know has only made me exceptionally numb to everything gege decides to do now, and B) we the audience have been seated next to the narrator instead of next to yuuji or gojo or yuuta or whoever. it's soooo drawn back, it's so far away from character. and i think that was just.... a really bad decision.

anyway, i think, all else equal, jjk would be on better footing right now if gege had decided to maintain the writing from Pre-Shibuya and stick to a character-driven plot. at least all of the carnage would mean something, then 🤷

[mononijikayu]

“If i am with you” — gojo satoru.

This is what he’d like life to always be like, he told himself. This is why he went out there and did his thing. Why he bothered with trying to change everything from within, why he was gathering allies for his vision. This was his hope. This was what he wanted, what everyone deserved. He was glad. To have a place that was his. A place to be Satoru. Not the strongest. Not Gojo Satoru. He just wanted to be who he was in these four walls. The father, the husband, the friend, the hugger, the joker, the cook, the man of the house. This is what he wanted. This is who he is.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: if i am with you from the jujutsu kaisen s2 soundtrack

NOTE: i was supposed to publish this yesterday but i got distracted by the s2 of house of the dragon and crying about rhaenyra and jace and luke. i love them so muchhhhhh. but to comfort myself, i thought about what we would satoru do on father's day. and i thought about this. happy father's day, satoru!!! and to all your fathers and father figures, happy belated father's day!!! i love you!!! <3

addendum: i also started a ko-fi. im still deciding what should be there, but this is not going to be by tier, because its not fair i dont offer something in return. so until then, im just announcing and telling you that i only have one ko-fi~

masterlist

u s and t h e m

YOU DON’T THINK YOU EVER HAD TROUBLE GIVING GIFTS. For all occasions, you seemed to be the best at it. Everyone of your colleagues would say you knew them too well when they opened their presents. But you were stumped this time around. You don’t remember any time in your life where you ever failed at knowing what to give someone for father’s day. 

Your father always liked what you gave him, especially ones you worked hard to make. You still remember when your father passed, you found all the father’s day cards and trinkets you’ve made him over the years. He especially loved the mewtwo one you gave him, during his last father’s day. That one he kept on his Jujutsu uniform when he passed. 

But this time around, you think you really do not know what to give a first time father for his special day. Father’s Day was coming up, and you wanted it to be special. It was Satoru's first Father's Day as Satoshi's father, and you wanted to make sure it was memorable. Being a father was Satoru’s favorite thing about himself. And you wanted it to be great. 

You shifted things over and over for the past month. You had  pinterest boards of cute little arts and crafts. You had special sweet dishes he wanted to try. You had those little ads about the best gifts to give fathers on their special day. But nothing really was peaking your interest. They’re good but they’re not great. And your husband deserved great, nothing less.

You wanted to give him the very best, because he gives you everything. He was there the moment Satoshi was born, he was there the moment you and him took guardianship of Megumi and Tsumiki. He was always doing what he could, from always doing everything when he was around to making sure he spends time with the kids when he had time off, most especially on family Sunday.

But as days passed — there was nothing that stuck as being the great thing that one could give to the best father you know. You pouted as you slapped the top of your head lightly. You’ve dug through everything and anything in your brain for days and days and here you were, panicking as two days remained before that special day. You had to come up with something before he got home. As you pondered over what to do, your thoughts were interrupted by Megumi.

“Hey, can you help me with something?” he asked, holding a piece of paper.

You blinked at Megumi and nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

 “I’m trying to draw a family tree for school….”

“Uh huh….”

 “But……. I don’t know much about my mom….or my dad.” He reveals to you, face echoing a scarlet fluster. “And I don’t….really know much about the Zenin clan.”

Your heart ached for him. Megumi didn’t know your Toji nii–sama, his own father, nor did he know much about his mother. You wondered sometimes how you were robbed of your father at such a young age, but you look at Megumi and Tsumiki and you wonder how it was for them. Because you at least remembered your beloved father. And they did not have that luxury.

Megumi has had a hard time trying to remember the past. And you can’t blame him or Tsumiki. His mother passed away soon after he was born. Megumi was three when Toji nii–sama left them with that woman he remarried. And only a year or two later, she too disappeared. The world was stacked against the two of them. 

You sighed, crossing your arms. You don’t even think it would be good to talk about the family you had grown up with either. The only ones truly worth liking are Mai and Maki. The rest were not worth noting.

After all, the Zenin clan’s history was complicated and often painful. None truly needed to know more than those words. You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. The memories of Toji nii–sama were bittersweet, filled with both love and sorrow too. And that’s not something you were ready to talk about.

Before you could decide, Tsumiki walked in with a small smile. “Gen–san! Do we have any paint? I need it for a project.”

You and Megumi blink before you returned her smile and went to search the drawers. “You need help with the project,’miki?”

“No, thank you, Gen–san.” She grins at you waving her hands. “You don’t need to, I can do it!”

“You sure?”

“One hundred present.”

You handed her a small box of paints. “Here you go, ‘miki.”

She smiled brightly. “Thanks!” She hurried off, leaving you alone with Megumi again.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the memory lane. You slowly started explaining some of the Zenin family history to Megumi, being careful not to overwhelm him with too many details. The one thing you didn’t want to do was to cause him some trouble with all of this. He’s still a kid. He would be fine with trying to know this when he’s a bit older.

“The Zenin family is one of the three great sorcerer families. Your father, Toji, was... unique among them. He’s my father’s cousin, so that makes me his first cousin, once removed. But he was like a brother to me.”

“First cousin once removed? What does that mean?”

“It means we’re one generation away in relation.” You pointed it out to him on the paper. “Because he and my dad were born from siblings, they are cousins. I am his first cousin.”

He narrowed his eyes, as though trying to understand. “Then what does that make me, you and ‘miki?”

“First cousins twice removed, for me to you.” You tell him, pointing again on the paper. “But since your dads are brothers, you guys are first cousins. But there’s two generations between me and both of you.”

“And then what’s Maki-san and Mai-san to you, me and ‘miki?”

“Maki and Mai are your second aunt, they’re born from your second grand uncle.” You say to him, trying to focus to not forget details. “Maki and Mai are my…..first cousins once removed, like your dad. ‘miki and you are their second nephew and niece.”

“Since your father was their cousin?”

“Yeah, That’s right, that’s right.”

Megumi listened intently, absorbing the information. You could see him trying to piece together the fragmented bits of his past. As he started drawing his family tree, you guided him, filling in names and relationships where you could. You talked about Toji nii-sama and his wife, but only briefly. You think it would be best if he asks you about it one day. You don’t want to push much on him. The Zenin family tree was already a lot to deal with.

“Is that all you need from me, ‘gumi?” You asked him as he started to finish up his work and he nodded at you.

“Thank you for taking the time to help me, Gen-san.” You grinned at him, rubbing his head as he pouted. “You didn’t have to rub my head like that. What if I grow bald?”

“Then we’ll figure out if Shoko can use the reverse curse technique on your hair!”

As you finished helping Megumi clean up the papers, your thoughts drifted back to Father’s Day. You still had time to plan something special for Satoru, seeing as he would probably come back tomorrow. Seeing Megumi’s determination and curiosity reminded you of the importance of perseverance. You’ll get that great present for him—

“Yahoo~”

You felt your eye twitch for some reason. Your husband, Gojo Satoru waved as he removed his bandages and took his dark rimmed glasses and wore them. He grinned at everyone from the genkan. You didn’t know he’d be back this soon. As soon as he stepped away from the genkan with his house slippers, he was greeted by the sight of Satoshi crawling towards him, his little face lighting up with a big smile. Satoshi had long abandoned his little blocks—his interest now was greeting his beloved father. Satoru picked him up, lifting him high into the air, making Satoshi giggle with delight.

“Hey there, little guy!” Satoru cooed, nuzzling his son with a loving gaze.

You emerged from the kitchen, surprised to see him. “You’re home early!” 

“Yeah, it was not that hard to defeat the cursed spirit this time around.” He says as you walked over to him and kissed his cheek. “So I’m here.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here, safe and sound.”

“Me too!” He cheered as he tickled your son, who laughed. “Oh, it’s good to be home with family~”

“Oh, you remember about ‘miki’s performance tomorrow, right?”

Satoru grinned. “Of course I remember! One of the reasons I even came home early. Wouldn’t miss singing ‘miki sing her heart out~”

Just then, Tsumiki came rushing in. “Satoru-san! You’re home!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Satoru crouched down to hug her properly with his free arm, with a smile. “Of course I am! I wouldn’t miss your performance for anything.”

Tsumiki beamed with excitement, her eyes sparkling. “I’m so happy you’re here! I can’t wait for you to see me sing tomorrow.”

After a moment, Satoru stood up and spotted Megumi in the corner of the room, looking stressed. “Hey, Megumi,” he greeted, concern evident in his voice. “Everything okay?”

You stepped in, explaining, “He’s still having a hard time digesting how we’re related. He asked for help in the family tree project for school. It’s been a bit overwhelming.”

“Oh? You mean the Zenin family tree?” He snickered back at you. “It’s a whole mess of a knot, isn’t it, ‘gumi?”

You lightly hit his arm. “Hey, its just as bad as the Gojo–Mikoto family tree!”

“It’s not my fault our ancestors liked each other.” You gasped at him.

“Satoru, not in front of the kids!”

“I mean….you and I are related too—”

“La la la, we shouldn’t be talking anymore–”

“You guys are so loud.” Megumi frowns as he crosses his arms on his chest.

Satoru walked over to Megumi and ruffled his hair gently. “Don’t worry, Megumi. You don’t have to worry. You finally got out of the family knot—”

“You’re insufferable, Satoru!”

“Hey, it’s not wrong if it's true!”

“Oh, I think the food's done!”

“This is going to be a long night.”

YOU STILL DIDN’T HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR YOUR PRESENT. You wished you could hit your head on the wall, to try and get an answer. But it would hurt and you would start crying even more. So you opted to suffer in silence. Satoru wanted to be early, because he feared he’ll miss the performance.

So, you all head to the school together. Gojo Satoshi happily giggled as he was nestled in the baby carrier strapped to Satoru's chest, gurgling with delight at the new surroundings. At least your baby was the cutest boy in the world. He’s so beautiful in your husband’s arms. 

As you walk, your mind races with. You still didn’t know what to give Satoru for Father’s Day, despite texting Shoko, Nanami, and even his wife for ideas. Nothing seemed quite right. Shoko suggested making a cake for Satoru but you do that all the time already. Nanami and his wife suggested making mochi but your husband buys that all the time already too.

You could feel a heaviness in you. What do you think is worthy to give as a gift to the best father in the whole world? You still didn’t know and that frustrates you. When have you ever been this stumped over a present?

“Are you okay?” Satoru asks, noticing your distraction.

You force a smile. “I’m fine, just a bit nervous. It’s my first time attending a much bigger school function like this. Well…for the kids.”

He gives you a reassuring smile and squeezes your hand. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll not mind that you’re nervous.”

“Maybe you’re right…..” You let out a gruntled sigh. 

“I’m always right, darling~”

“Uh, uh, don’t push it.”

As you arrive in the auditorium, you find your seats among the other parents. The school’s auditorium buzzed with excitement, people were whispering and talking with one another. Many parents took time off to cheer for their kids too, you think.

Satoru whispered to Satoshi, about how he should cheer for Tsumiki when she comes out. You smiled at them as you look at the stage. You don’t know when Tsumiki was going to be up. But there’s quite a few teams in her grade, after all. 

Each team that came sung a song that they made themselves. It was quite impressive, seeing young kids just being so lively and artistic. Jujutsu High didn’t really have much of these things, and even then, you and Satoru really didn’t attend any schooling outside your own clan’s comforts until you were of age to attend Jujutsu High.

So both of you were going to enjoy this, enjoying watching these kids have better joys than you ever had. Satoru was quite excited, clapping along and soon followed by your son who was also giggling and clapping along with his father.

Then when it finally came time, you immediately spot Tsumiki as she giggles nervously. She comes out with her team. Tsumiki shyly sent a wave, which made her pigtails bounce slightly. She was happy to see that you were both there. Your husband waved back, enthusiastically. You smiled as you waved too. But then Satoru immediately cheers, his voice booming with pride.

“That’s my kid!” Satoru shouts proudly, his eye glasses nearly falling off. Everyone was looking at you all. “You guys, isn’t she pretty?”

“Satoru, sit down!”

“But ‘miki looks cool! I wanna hype her up!”

“But she’s about to perform!”

The music starts and the auditorium turns dark. The lighting starts on cue and Tsumiki is the first to sing. You were in awe as she started mixing that with dancing too. Satoru immediately pulled his phone out and started recording with excited giggles. But it was quick to notice how he started to shift.

When he suddenly goes quiet, eyes wide with surprise. On the back of Tsumiki’s shirt, in those bright glittery bold letters, is written, "Gojo Tsumiki." Satoru glances around, noticing that all the other kids have their last names printed on their shirts too.

Tsumiki stops at the side as attention goes to another member of her group. Tsumiki waves at Satoru, her smile brilliantly radiant. Overcome with emotion, Gojo Satoru turns his head and buries his face in Satoshi’s tiny shoulder. Satoshi lets out a sound as though asking his dad if he was alright. You sighed, patting his shoulder.

You lean in, whispering, “Are you crying?”

His voice muffled, he replies, “No, I’m not.”

After the performance, Fushiguro Tsumiki runs over to greet you both, her face glowing with happiness to have spotted you. They won the top spot today, when Satoru was the loudest for. She was waving her medal as she rushed over to you both. You take Satoshi from Satoru, freeing him to hug Tsumiki tightly.

“You were amazing out there, kid.” Satoru says, his voice thick with pride. “I’m so proud of you.”

Tsumiki smiles up at him. “Thank you, Satoru-san!”

“You didn’t have to do that, you know! I was surprised, you wore my name on your back.”

“But I wanted to.” She beams at your husband shyly. “I can’t legally change my name, but I wanted everyone to see your name on my shirt, Satoru-san. After all, you’re the dad I have.”

Satoru starts to thank her, but his words become a jumble of emotions. Warm tears stream down his face, and you realize Tsumiki too started crying and wiping her tears. You let out a small sigh and smiled at them. You quickly pull out a tissue wrap and gently wipe Satoru and Tsumiki’s cheeks.

“Thank you for this, ‘miki.” he finally manages to say. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She beams, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I’m glad you liked it, Satoru-san.”

“I’m going to go and hang up that shirt in a frame, okay? I’m gonna put it in my office!”

Tsumiki grinned. “I’ll be happy every time I see it there!”

“Me too!” Your husband cried with joy.

“Gugah!” Gojo Satoshi joined in.

“Yeah, what he said!”

SATOSHI WAS FALLING ASLEEP. Satoru cooed as he cradled him back and forth, humming to your little son as he was trying to get him to sleep. Satoshi was getting cranky by the end of the picture taken for the group and when you noticed, Satoru refused to hand your little son to you. He said that he was making much of what time he had your little dawn. If he had to fall asleep, it would be in his arms. You didn’t have the heart to deny your husband, because you could see the love in his eyes shining through. And so you let him do as he pleased as you and Tsumiki sat down on the bench together.

As the program concluded, Tsumiki’s class was told that the rest of the day was to be dismissed. Since it would be time to prepare for the first term exams next month, they thought a day break is not going to be too bad. Coincidentally, it was also already nearly time to pick up Megumi. So, you decided to wait outside his classroom until his class was over. 

You were mulling over what would be a good dinner today, so you were trying to remember what you had in your fridge. Tsumiki had some suggestions and you took them in mind, but she was having cravings for something hot. And you kept thinking a spicy hot pot was going to be good. But a good question would be if your husband could take the spice. He really isn’t one to tolerate things he didn’t like. And every time you ate something spicy together, he seemed to not be as bothered. 

It wasn't long before  the bell rang in the school and you could see Megumi emerging, looking flustered. His hands were tightly pressed against his backpack straps. You quickly stood up, to take his school bag from him, but he pouts and tells you off softly. You nodded at him and ruffled up his hair tenderly with a small smile. 

Satoru was quick to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Megumi replied swiftly, and sensing his reluctance to talk, no one pressed further.

Tsumiki sang as she opened the door into the house. Satoshi was found asleep in the carrier while you started to tell the kids to go get some rest before they showered. You went to the fridge immediately while your husband settled your little dawn down. Satoru emerged from the nursery and smiled at you when he immediately suggested hotpot, a cozy meal perfect for the occasion, and since Tsumiki was craving something spicy, you could just add some togarashi on her bowl. 

As you and Satoru were talking in the kitchen about how grateful you were for the kids and what you guys should do tomorrow since it was still an off day, you felt Megumi approaching you. You looked at him as he pulled at your shirt. He lowered his gaze, his cheeks round and red. He opens his mouth but he doesn’t say anything. Satoru watches as he mouths towards you, asking what's going on. But you shook your head, not knowing what to say. Megumi gathered up his courage and then slowly placed a placard from his hands to yours. You could tell he was a bit hesitant to even hand it to you.

“I didn’t think it was right to submit in a Zenin family tree.” Megumi began, his voice steady but quiet. “I barely know them.”

You and Satoru looked at the placard together. It was simple, but it was colorful enough that you could call it lively. You could tell Megumi did it, it was his style. He likes beauty in simplicity. The tree was big enough to encompass all the information that he knew about each and everyone on the tree. Just as much, tender pictures that were neatly placed.

On it, Megumi had written that you were his mom and Satoru was his dad. Tsumiki was listed as his elder sister, and Satoshi as his younger brother. The simplicity and honesty of it touched your heart deeply. On the top, he wrote, ‘my family’ in that neat lettering that you had grown so fond of.

“I had to discuss my family tree and talk about my family,” Megumi explained bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m not gonna talk about strangers.”

You and Satoru looked at one another, eyes glossy with striking tears that were threatening to fall. When did you both deserve such beautiful happiness? What could you have both possibly done that made you both worthy of the love these kids have given you? You smiled at Megumi, looking at the placard again. 

Satoru’s eyes softened as he pulled Megumi into a hug, ruffling his hair with a laugh. “I’m so proud of you, Megumi. You’re right, family is about who’s there for you.”

Megumi mumbled, “Stop hugging me so tightly.” but there was no real resistance in his voice.

Satoru chuckled, “I just want to hug my son.”

“‘am not your son—”

“Too late, the placard says it. We’re adopting you!”

“We should have this framed.” You say as you gently touch the placard with a grin. “I’m putting it in the living room.”

“Please don’t do it.”

“Oh wifey, that’s a great idea!”

“It’s really not.”

“Not valid to your dad, son!”

IT WAS AN ENJOYABLE TIME AFTER THAT.  Your beloved little dawn Gojo Satoshi woke up just as dinner was finishing, and the whole family came back out and sat on the table all together to enjoy a lovely meal. The atmosphere was warm and filled with laughter and it was how it should always be. The meal was delicious. Tsumiki was right about the spice. It tasted good on yosenabe. As you predicted, Satoru didn’t like the spice and opted for some soy sauce. Megumi was satisfied with the taste without any condiments. 

Dinner together was never quiet. Satoru made many jokes today, almost half of which are dad jokes. Megumi felt bashful about them, but you knew that he liked them. Satoshi and Tsumiki giggled at each and every one of Satoru’s little quips. You laughed too, until it hurt your cheeks to do so. If there was anyone who could be the light in the home, the one who makes life ever so beautiful, it would be your husband. 

As you ate your mushrooms over the dashi, as Megumi drank his cup of orange juice, as Tsumiki grabbed a bite of her little pudding, Satoru couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and contentment. He had never imagined having a family this warm and loving, but here it was, a reality that he cherished deeply. 

This is what he’d like life to always be like, he told himself. This is why he went out there and did his thing. Why he bothered with trying to change everything from within, why he was gathering allies for his vision. This was his hope. This was what he wanted, what everyone deserved. He was glad. To have a place that was his. A place to be Satoru. Not the strongest. Not Gojo Satoru. He just wanted to be who he was in these four walls. The father, the husband, the friend, the hugger, the joker, the cook, the man of the house. This is what he wanted. This is who he is.

After dinner, the kids played for a long while. Satoshi had the most fun, trying to force himself to stand up. Megumi was making sure that he was not gonna fall, Tsumiki was excited to see Satoshi walk towards them. But the excitement also died down and everyone went to watch a movie. Tonight was Satoru’s pick and he chose Monsters vs. Aliens. He enjoyed it quite a lot, as much as the kids did. Satoshi had a blast copying the facial expressions of Insectosaurus which cracked Satoru up for hours. 

But now the older kids had gone and went to bed, and Satoshi was playing with his puzzle pieces just behind the couch. The rest of the night was you and Satoru both staying up to tidy up the house. It was already midnight by the time you finished. Both of you lunged together on the couch, exhausted. Satoshi, now disinterested with the puzzle, went and played with his squishy toys. 

You looked at the clock and then to your husband Satoru and, with a hint of regret in your voice, said, “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything for Father’s Day.”

Satoru looked at you and snickered. He shook his head and pulled you into a gentle embrace. “You don’t need to apologize, darling. You’ve given me everything I could ever want for Father’s Day. You made all of this possible.”

“But I just….I wanted to give you something great.”

He looked into your eyes, his expression filled with love and gratitude. “You already have given me something great. You gave me a home, warmth, and the loveliest family. It’s everything, darling. It’s more than anyone could ask for in this life.”

“I love you, my love. More than you know.”

Cerulean eyes met your lilac. “I love you too, darling. More than life itself.”

You hit his hand lightly. “You keep one upping me.”

He laughs. “I have to make sure you know I’m the one who loves you the most.”

“I already do.”

“And I’ll tell you everyday.”

“I should hope so.”

“Until we’re old and wrinkled.”

You laugh. “Is that going to be your case, handsome?”

“I reckon I’ll always be handsome.”

You sigh at him lovingly. “You always will be.”

Satoru kissed your cheek. “Thank you for being the light of my home. I wouldn’t be the father I am without you by my side.”

“And I wouldn’t be the mother I am without you.”

“If I am with you, it will be happiness.” He whispers under his breath. “If I am with you, I’m going to be alive.”

“You make me fall in love with you over and over.”

He grins at you. “That’s the point. For all of our lives and even beyond that, darling.”

You hugged him tighter, feeling the strength and sincerity of his words. In that quiet, tender moment, you realized that the best gifts are often not material but the love and support we give each other every day. As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and fulfillment.

 You had your family all together.

With all its warmth and love, this was it.

This was truly the greatest gift of all.

As long as you were with him, it was alright.

Life would be the best there ever was.

epilogue

You were preparing to get to bed, but Satoshi was being rowdy, and the morning sun was already beginning to peek through the windows. Satoru, seeing how tired you were, gently told you, “Go to bed. I’ll meet you there once Satoshi’s asleep.”

Grateful for his understanding, you nodded and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water helped soothe your tired muscles, and you felt more relaxed as you got ready for bed.

Meanwhile, Satoru was cradling Satoshi, rocking him gently in his arms. Satoshi, still full of energy, reached for his papa’s face, his tiny fingers patting Satoru’s cheeks. He giggled, his eyes bright and mischievous.

Satoru smiled down at him, murmuring softly, “Come on, little guy, it’s time to sleep.”

Satoshi started babbling, his sounds turning into something more distinct. Suddenly, he said, “Dada.”

Both you and Satoru’s eyes went wide in surprise and delight. You had just stepped out of the bathroom when you heard it. A smile broke across your face, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Did he just say...?” you began, looking at Satoru.

“Yeah, he did,” Satoru replied, his cerulean eyes shining with pride and happiness. “Satoshi said his first word!”

You walked over to them, and Satoru pulled you into the embrace, Satoshi nestled between you both. “His first word on Father’s Day,” Satoru whispered, emotion thick in his voice. “It’s perfect.”

You kissed Satoshi’s forehead and then Satoru’s cheek, feeling a profound sense of joy. “Happy Father’s Day, Satoru. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

As the morning sun continued to rise, you finally crawled into bed, feeling the comforting presence of Satoru beside you. Satoshi was peacefully asleep in his crib, the excitement of the early morning finally wearing him out.

You turned to Satoru, who was lying on his side, his eyes still glowing with the joy of Satoshi’s first word. “You know,” you said softly, “I couldn’t have planned a better Father’s Day gift than this.”

Satoru smiled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t think anything could top that. Hearing him say ‘Dada’ for the first time… it’s just perfect.”

You both lay there for a moment, soaking in the tranquility of the morning and the profound happiness that filled the room. “I’ve been thinking about how to show you how much you mean to us,” you confessed, “but seeing you with the kids, seeing how much they love you, that’s what really matters.”

Satoru pulled you closer, his warmth enveloping you. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want. This family, our home, the love we share… It's more than I ever imagined. Thank you for making it all possible.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “We did it together, Satoru. We built this life together.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if to imprint the moment in his memory. “And we’ll keep building it, one day at a time.”

The peaceful silence stretched on, and slowly, exhaustion began to claim you. As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a deep sense of contentment and love. The morning had brought an unexpected gift, one that underscored the beauty of the family you had created.

Satoru held you close, his thoughts echoing yours. He watched as you fell asleep, his heart full of gratitude and love. For him, this Father’s Day was not just about a celebration—it was a reminder of the journey you had taken together, the hardships you had overcome, and the beautiful life you had built.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, filling the room with a warm glow, Satoru finally closed his eyes, ready to join you in sleep. The house was quiet, filled with the peaceful breaths of a family deeply connected by love and the promise of many more joyful moments to come.

[puppyeared]

updated Sleight ref!!

[zebratimw]

Spirit animal SQH

[bambeebirdie]

This is for @bluepeachstudios ‘s Ghost in a Shell. It’s really good you should read it.

I looked at exactly one picture of Jupiter Jim and went “yeah this should be enough to draw him.” I will not be answering if it actually was

Have some bonus content under the cut!

And sketches

(I love any character who can say “I don’t want to go back to prison” it’s like the funniest thing to me)

[quietwingsinthesky]

Very strange to me that the longer supernatural went on, the kinder it was to John Winchester and the uglier it made Chuck.

There’s something very. I don’t know. “Don’t blame your father, your father never did anything wrong. Blame God. Blame this thing that’s been secretly making your life worse this whole time, pulling the strings, controlling you and everyone around you.”

And the further we get into the show, the more Chuck becomes a Writer, rather than it being about God as a Father. (Never completely losing that aspect, obviously, just like Chuck was always a writer, but one of these parallels clearly superceded the other in terms of importance to the story.)

[b4kuch1n]

dip pen ink comm second round for in order R. Burry, @sega-bass-kissing, and Solaris

[bentosandbox]

Roberta's operator record..........(kind of a summary ig

what if your fellow make-up artist bestie had the skills to work on soulless but well-paying blockbusters but refuses because only the B-horror flicks the both of you used to watch together and enjoy are the only type of flicks she wants to work on but the splatter movies just keep flopping so she had to resort to using cheaper paints and materials that ultimately killed her by chronic poisoning and you feel so guilty because you could/should have stopped her from going down this path but somewhere inside yourself you agreed with her ideals and left her to her own devices but also evidently her own ruin and now all the makeup skills in the world cannot bring her back to life unlike the zombies in the movies and you ask if you can do the remaining mortuary makeup before the cremation but anguish last minute over to keep it because you felt it would be insulting to kind of cover up her suffering under the makeup after she lived her life in true yolo fashion but you relent and leave it be because at that moment you decide to quit being a makeup artist and be a mortician just temporarily to send her off with a smile fake or not

anyway this line sheesh

"I'll never stop. I'll never compromise-- I'll do what I love most every day of my life, even if it only makes me miserable."

ohh her dead friend just like me fr wait that's not g

[foxgirlinfohazard]

oh yeag so droneself has decided that theyre going to start inserting uwuspeak into their typing style, which. i think is kinda cute but at first ngl i was embarrassed lol

[ciderjacks]

sometimes I get worried that whatever is wrong with me will kill me and the thing is it’s not an unfounded concern and that’s what really scares me