#time to digest whats going on and go insane about it

[staryarn]

Vague speculation and MAJOR canto iv spoilers

My only actual speculation is that the "cathy" (red text at the end) talking is carmen (trying to get hc to distort) and the purple text is cathy.

The whole cathy in the coffin image, yi sang talking about them 'producing a human' and Faust kind of agreeing, the parallels between that and lobcorp, the whole 'woman of light put in a coffin and. Is kind of related to light (carmen being yeah and cathy w the golden borough), the leviathan parallels (and also callbacks). Like my god

While I've never read Wuthering Heights I know like. Enough through osmosis. The constant mentions of dogs (both for Heathcliff and hindley), the book adaption of hc vs the lcb version , and my god

And the like. References to the bodysack ego

+ how other people have noticed that faust goes inbetween third person ans the recent 'I' (and how recently dante said that it seemed like she was pausing and looking off somewhere like. Omg lore)

+ the ryoshu lore like. Augh

The fact that this is the third distortion (bc as far as I remember ahab was an ego like dongbaek) and like. Cathy mentioning sins. Likenits so much to take in and I'm scared of whatever we'll face next week

I can only hope we'll actually see that hc mirror id (and learn how the hell he hopped mirror worlds)

[thekimspoblog]

Tumblr: "Would Saul be able to get Light Yagami acquitted for the murders?"

Me: I can't participate in this conversation, lest Tumblr find out how much I hate "Death Note"

[thebiffmethod]

today we mourn the plot of every upcoming zelda game

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 2

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: couldn't still believe that this ff blew up like tysm for all of your support! and thank you so much for waiting~ and like always, this is not proofread lol

previous / masterlist / next

“if i'm not mistaken, the mission would take at least three to four business days.” yaga passes satoru a sheet of paper where it contains all of the information he needed to know and what kind of things he should focus on investigating.

satoru looked at his former teacher in uncertainty despite the blindfold in his eyes. he's very hesitant to take the mission not because he cannot beat this curse, but because he still needs to apologize to you as soon as possible.

“yaga, c—can i not…” satoru was about to continue when he suddenly trailed off.

“not what?” yaga raises his eyebrow.

but to think that it's all his fault, he must have really hurted you this time, and you wouldn't probably hear him out that easily. that is why satoru thinks that it is best to just give you some space as of now, and when he comes back from his mission, that is the time when he would bother you with his presence.

“it's nothing. i’ll be taking my leave now.”

“very well—” before yaga could even finish his sentence, satoru already vanished in thin air.

the duo, yuuji and megumi, was on their way to visit you just like what they had promised to themselves a while ago.

it was around eight o'clock in the evening and here they are, kind of tiptoeing through the hallway where your room is located.

“i think it's better to let her know our presence first.” megumi said quietly to the pink haired male while holding out a basket with foods that are suitable for digestion of a pregnant lady.

“then it wouldn't be a surprise if we told her.” yuuji then answered. he was carrying two board games on his left arm and a uno card on his right hand. you actually once told them that you were exceptionally good at these kinds of games, so yuuji wanted to test that out.

suddenly, the two boys stopped in front of a door where they immediately froze at the smell of something oddly familiar. “me…megumi, is this y/n sensei’s room?” yuuji slowly mumbles out a word, his eyes going wide.

however, megumi didn't answer him. instead, he immediately tries to open the door without any hesitation just to know that it is locked.

panic slashed across their faces as the smell of blood coming out of your room becomes the leading factor of their franticness behavior.

“y/n sensei! are you there?!” yuuji keeps on calling out to you while megumi does the door breaking.

“it's locked! i can’t break the door!” curse these doors in jujutsu high. megumi could not help but to mumble profanities when he remembered that the doors in jujutsu high are purposely made this strong so any invading curses could not sneak in especially during sleeping hours where most of the sorcerers are vulnerable.

“itadori! call yaga sensei and shoko-san, quick!” megumi screamed at the other boy, whom he instantly obliged.

a weave of panic surge on their bodies because you are involved in this situation. not to mention, you are pregnant on top of that and that puts the situation into a more nerve-wracking experience.

sweat drips on megumi’s forehead as he still tries to break the door. kicks and punches were made but still the door wouldn't flinch his attacks. the idea of using his curse technique came into his mind but he's afraid that it would worsen the situation.

sooner and faster, yuuji came back with the two elders running faster than before. both also have a panic flash on their faces as yaga begins to break the door with his insane force. and after countless tries, he successfully invades the door.

everybody froze at the sight, because there they saw you, lying unconsciously in a pool of your blood that trickled down on your lower body.

“shit! what happened?!” shoko was the first to react and immediately came closer to you to check your pulse, it was there but weak. then shoko proceeds to check your baby's heartbeat, and to her disappointment, there was none that she could detect.

“yaga sensei, please help me get y/n to my clinic. now!” without a further do, yaga carefully lifted up your body and then proceeded to follow the frantic shoko to her said clinic.

on the other hand, yuuji and megumi watch the two elders quickly move away from the scene and that leaves the two. they had been quiet all the time, probably still traumatized because they just saw one of their teachers (plus with an unborn child) on the literal verge of dying.

megumi's eyes trailed on the pool of blood that had been sitting on your floor. he could tell that you had been unconscious for like way past an hour now due to some parts of the blood being fresh while some parts were dried.

“what the hell just happened…?” yuuji was still flabbergasted. he would never expect that this would happen when he just visualizes this night as a fun one because he got everything ready for a surprise mini party to cheer you up.

“i don't know.” megumi solemnly answered.

“...do you think y/n sensei and her baby would be alright?” yuuji added, totally worried about your situation.

for the first time in his life, megumi didn't think he that would utter the same word but with a different tone, different meaning, and in a different situation.

“i…i don't know.”

satoru gojo was busy walking through the busy street of roppongi despite the sky being nighttime. the whole atmosphere was still so lively from bright signage up to crowded night market stalls. this makes a perfect night for a perfect leisure.

but satoru isn't here to do that. he was supposed to do a job and finish it as soon as possible so he could get back to you and finally do the right thing.

he was about to enter an abandoned building when he received a phone call. without looking at the caller, he answered.

“what?”

“where are you?” it was his corporate friend, nanami.

a teasing smile made it into his demeanor. “oh wow! here is my underclassmen calling me first—!”

“i am asking you, where are you?” nanami was clearly not in the mood for his bullshit. his tone was beyond serious and it made satoru wonder if something happened.

“i'm in roppongi. somewhere behind a luxurious night bar.” gojo said.

the moment he said his address, the phone suddenly dropped. confused, the six eyes looked at his phone then just shrugged it off. for the second time, he was about to enter the said building when someone appeared from behind.

“you should go back.” there he saw nanami, breathless as he tried to catch his breath. looks like he ran his way towards his location.

“yo, my man! what are you doing he—”

“go back to the jujutsu high. i’ll be taking your mission here.” nanami explained like he was .

did something happen? was on satoru's mind.

“why?” satoru dropped all of his mischievousness as it was replaced by his unhidden worry—you were literally there at the jujutsu high.

there was a pause on nanami, he seemed very hesitant to say it and satoru was growing impatient.

“just say it nanami—”

“yaga asked me to take your mission on your behalf after something happened. it's about your wife. she was found unconscious in her room.”

never ever in his life he could feel the quickest adrenaline rush in his body as nanami didn't even manage to utter the last syllables of his sentence when satoru already uses his technique and teleports himself towards your room back in jujutsu high.

and there, he was welcomed by the janitors of the said school, mopping the dried liquid on the floor. the smell was so familiar that it made his body tremble in a span of a second.

“w-what the fuck happened here?” he asked the janitor who looked at him in pity as he continued to solemnly wipe the floor.

“miss y/n was found unconscious and there was blood…in her lower area.”

blood, y/n, unconscious, my wife, danger, the baby…my baby!

that was the only thing that came into his mind as he went out of the hallway and ran somewhere he wasn't aware of. his mind raced with negative thoughts.

and since his life is not always about sugarcoating—he thought that probably you just had a miscarriage, got attacked by some curses, or worse, you're dead. his wife, you, were hurt when he was away and not even there to at least protect you.

unbeknownst, to the man, tears were threatening to slip down his six eyes, making his blindfold become wet as it was being absorbed by his tears constantly. satoru could feel that his body was filled with self-loathing, guilt, and regret all over his system.

“satoru.” a voice called him from behind. satoru does not need to turn around to know who it was. it was yaga.

“come to my office.” without waiting for him, yaga already left with satoru trailing behind him. taking off his blindfold, satoru wiped the tears that were about to fall.

when they arrived at yaga’s office, he saw his two students, yuuji and megumi, sitting quietly by the couch. they were both acting quietly odd, like they knew what was going on too.

“where's y/n?” satoru asked.

“do you want to know what happened first?” yaga avoided his question for now. instead, he goes into the other aspect that he's been wondering too. satoru fell quiet, so yaga took it as a yes.

the principal looked at the two students who were already looking at him. sighing deeply, yaga then proceeds to start explaining.

“y/n was found unconscious by these two. it has been over an hour since she's been in that situation judging by the dryness of her blood. right now, we still had no idea about her state since shoko's the one who's been handling the situation. and it's been a while too since we have seen her.”

“and the baby…i'm sorry, gojo. but we have no idea either.” yaga sighed heavily. satoru was all silent, he couldn't bring himself to utter any word. he was too caught up about the situation that he had so many things to say to the point that he couldn't figure out where to start.

“i know it's not my business to interfere but…did something happen that leads to this?” the principal asked the strongest. the next moment was something that everyone expected—they did not receive any response from the man.

suddenly, the door burst open, revealing the tired doctor. her eyes landed on your husband who's still frozen about your condition. on the other hand, satoru was too busy drowning himself with his thoughts to notice shoko in the room.

“itadori, megumi…go back to your dorm for now. it's getting late and i’ll just update you two tomorrow.” shoko scurry the two younger boys and they obliged.

as the door in yaga's office closed, the three grown-ups fell into a silent atmosphere, only the sound of the air ventilation could be heard inside.

“h-how’s y/n and the child?” yaga was the first one to speak among the three. but shoko's attention was drawn to gojo only and gojo was still unable to move.

“her situation was so severe that we needed to put her into a hospital as soon as possible.” shoko said quietly and directed to gojo only. her eyes were trailed to him, and only him. she wants him to taste the bitter medicine of his aftermath and she is going to make sure he's taking it.

call her brutal and cruel, but in your realm of marriage where her role is only being a worried close friend, she would choose you over everything. that's how much she cares for you. shoko could see what kind of person you are, and she believes that you deserve better than what you are right now.

sure, gojo was right when he said that she'd only known you for a short period of time. but that is enough for her to determine that she is going to stick by your side whatever may happen. because she knows how a gojo satoru works, she knows what kind of person he could be.

if gojo can manage to leave shoko out in his life, then he could do it to y/n too.

“she was bleeding too much, i'm afraid it has to do with the child. so if we don't act fast, we might have to choose who to save—are we going to save y/n and lose the baby? are we going to save the baby and lose y/n? or…what if we lose them both—”

*boogsh!*

a sudden explosion was seen. the four walls inside yaga’s office have officially become three when satoru couldn't handle his emotions that he let his cursed energy slip and create a hole into one of yaga’s walls. the impact was so strong that it literally shook the whole jujutsu high.

and surprisingly, none of the three inside the scene was scratched, just emotionally taken aback. the once gojo satoru who couldn't even utter a word earlier, was now looking at shoko with a mixture of menace, trouble, anger, grief, and…extreme sadness.

shoko ties his stare, looking equivalently. “did you hear what i said, gojo? your wife and your baby are currently facing the grim reaper. do you understand that?” she said calmly but there is a hit or hardness into her tone.

“shut up! fucking shut up!” another surge of curse energy flows in different directions, making yaga and shoko feel goosebumps on how strong it is.

“satoru!” yaga yelled in panic.

“where is she? where the fuck is she?! show me where she is!” satoru screamed at the doctor. shoko, whose face is now back to emotionless, decides to subside her annoyance to the man as she knows you are the top priority right now.

“i will let you see her. but once you see her, you have to teleport us into the hospital immediately if you still want to see her open her eyes.” shoko said seriously. thankfully, satoru managed to calm himself alone and just stared at shoko, waiting for her to continue.

“y/n was experiencing placenta abruption. it's a very serious complication in her case because the placenta in the inner wall of her uterus is completely detached. it greatly affects the baby’s supply of oxygen and nutrients and the situation causes her to bleed heavily.”

“i immediately minimize the bleeding but i cannot guarantee the two's safety, especially the baby, since it is not worth the risk to imply cursed energy to an unborn child—” before shoko could even finished explaining, satoru already stormed out of the room and just proceeds to the room where his guts tell you where. he was being followed by shoko who was screaming at him.

opening one of the doors, there he saw you all pale. he could feel your cursed energy barely beating, and that scared the shit out of him because that indicates your weakness.

“o-oh god…” satoru couldn't help but to feel his breathing pattern becoming irregular as a single tear followed by another drop from his gorgeous powerful blue eyes.

this can't be happening. you were just fine a while ago!

“y/n, oh my g-god! my wife…” gojo satoru, known by his title as the strongest sorcerer in his generation, was seen crying over his dying wife and dying unborn child. his tall figure was trembling in tangled emotions that he couldn't even determine the two ends.

“sorry to ruin your moment, but if you want to save your family, it's better for us to keep moving now.” shoko followed the suit, still savage as ever.

gojo does what she said and teleports the three of you into the bestest hospital that he knows. ignoring the toll on his cursed energy as it took more, more than the usual usage, satoru believes that your well-being should be his priority rather than his.

when they arrived, shoko immediately started to bump the people out of the way and started to call for help. “someone! get us to an emergency!” she screamed.

meanwhile, satoru keeps your body close to him. hugging your frame ever so delicately, scared that you might break or disappear.

a man like satoru gojo, whom to some called him a man-god, find himself crying out to every gods and deities out there to help you, to help him get this through. he prays and prays to keep you safe and how he's sorry for all of the things he would do.

for sure, he knew this sudden care for you is not born out of pity or regret, it is a late realization on how much he couldn't bear to see you like this. because deep inside him, satoru couldn't deny the warm feeling of having someone that was waiting for him to come home, provide him service, and even give him a bundle of joy.

the words he swore to himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is completely capable of being by himself was getting eaten by his current self. served on a silver platter, satoru didn't mind eating his own words.

a stretcher was bought on sight and shoko instructed him to put your body there and watch the series of doctors rush your body into the emergency room. satoru watches the light above the door where you were in turns red, signaling that it requires immediate medical attention.

placing his traumatized body on one of the cold walls of the hospital, sliding his man shoulders and crumbling himself into small pieces to make himself as small as possible. never he would have thought that the night would end with him continuing to pray for your safety.

satoru didn't realize that he dozed off within the walls of a random corner of a hospital where he brought you in. he only realized his current situation when he could feel someone kicking his lower body constantly.

opening his tired eyes, he saw shoko eyeing him while still continuing to nudge him. “good, you're awake.” she said.

it feels like a surge of energy flows to his body and it immediately makes him rise up faster than he could. that was also when he started to feel all of the aches in his body just from sleeping in that kind of position.

“fuck, my whole body aches.” he mumbles to himself. satoru was about to stretch himself when he saw the time on the wall.

5:05 AM

and then his eyes landed on the door.

there was no red light anymore.

“y/n. shoko, where's y/n?!” anxiousness washed all over his body. he didn't know what to expect on what answers he's about to receive regarding his family condition.

meanwhile, shoko thinks that gojo looked like a lost puppy on how his eyes literally beg for a positive answer. despite his six foot frame, he looks like a poor and desperate child.

“the operation ended an hour ago. y/n was now stable and goy transferred into one of the private rooms. while the baby…” she pauses.

“w-what? what happened to my baby?” shoko almost grimaces the way satoru addresses the unborn child, wondering where the hell did he get the guts to say that.

the doctor was this close to brutally and savagely roast this man until he flew in shame—that’s how mad, angry, and upset shoko from what satoru did to you. but today is not the suitable day for that, she may be cruel but she had limits. so, shoko forcefully swallowed the harsh words and decided to just put it aside.

“the baby was delivered early through cesarean, it's the only way to save y/n and the child. the baby is currently in a neonatal intensive care unit where the bestest doctors monitor the child until it reaches mature development.”

so basically, you give birth to his child. satoru couldn't explain what he's feeling right now. he's happy for the baby, and yet at the same time, he feels really undeserving, but he still wants to be part of the child's life—this is too complicated for him.

and besides, this is not the right time to contemplate. because as a husband and father, he needed to stay with his family to provide them love, support, and to patch that once had been wounded. and he's going to start with…

“can i go and see y/n?” deep inside him, satoru felt ridiculous for asking that question since he is the literal husband! or was he? after everything he had done to her for five years?

shoko then tiredly pointed at the room at the end of the hallway and satoru, with the help of his long legs, never ran faster than his whole life.

gently opening the door in your room, satoru was greeted by your peaceful and sleeping form with all of the tubes connected on the back of your hand. closing the door behind him, satoru finally let go of the tears he's been holding the whole time, ranging from the confrontation with you until to to this situation.

sitting on the chair beside your bed, satoru weeps as he holds your arm. at this moment, the strongest no longer exists, it was just gojo satoru who couldn't stop himself from muttering an apology to his wife that he did so wrong.

they say, you would only realize the importance of something when it's now late. satoru would absolutely agree to that statement and he could even provide proofs and evidence. at first, he's being a total dick and douchebag to his wife who clearly doesn't even do anything wrong to him. then his own wife endured all of his actions for the whole five years and still remained as if their relationship could be only determined on a sheet of paper.

“i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.” satoru may not know what would happen the moment you would open your eyes. would you send him away? or would you let him stay despite all of the pain and trauma he caused you? for now, he can never know.

but one thing he's going to let you know, he's going to change for you and for his baby. he's done doing things for himself, and now, he should focus on you.

and he's going to start with cutting all of his ties to his mistress.

[part 3 is now posted! for those who wanted to be tagged, just say it on the comments — ©luvvixu2024]

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @username23345 @lvstru @neteyxms

[gothra]

I’ll never forget when I was arguing with a person in favor of total prison abolition and I asked them “what about violent offenders?” And they said “Well, in a world where prisons have been abolished, we’ll have leveled the playing field and everyone will have their basic needs met, and crime won’t be as much of an issue.” And then I was like “okay. But…no. Because rich people also rape and murder, so it isn’t just a poor person thing. So what will we do about that?” And I don’t think they answered me after that. I’m ashamed to say I continued to think that the problem was that I simply didn’t understand prison abolitionists enough and that their point was right in front of me, and it would click once I finally let myself understand it. It took me a long time to realize that if something is going to make sense, it needs to make sense. If you want to turn theory into Praxis (I’m using that word right don’t correct me I’ll vomit) everyone needs to be on board, which mean it all needs to click and it needs to click fast and fucking clear. You need to turn a complex idea into something both digestible and flexible enough to be expanded upon. Every time I ask a prison abolitionist what they actually intend to do about violent crime, I get directed to a summer reading list and a BreadTuber. It’s like a sleight-of-hand trick. Where’s the answer to my question. There it is. No wait, there it is. It’s under this cup. No it isn’t. “There’s theory that can explain this better than I can.” As if most theory isn’t just a collection of essays meant to be absorbed and discussed by academics, not the average skeptic. “Read this book.” And the book won’t even answer the question. The book tells you to go ask someone else. “Oh, watch this so-and-so, she totally explains it better than me.” Why can’t you explain it at all? Why did you even bring it up if you were going to point me to someone else to give me the basics that you should probably already know? Maybe I’m just one of those crazy people who thinks that some people need to be kept away from the public for everyone’s good. Maybe that just makes me insane. Maybe not believing that pervasive systemic misogyny could be solved with a UBI and a prayer circle makes me a bad guy. But it’s not like women’s safety is a priority anyway. It’s not like there is an objective claim to be made that re-releasing violent offenders or simply not locking them up is deadly.

[fingertipsmp3]

I am once again thinking about how I have empirical proof that my blood pressure goes through the roof when I’m pissed off. It doesn’t bode well.

[dj-of-the-coven]

trigun 1998 episode simulator

[3 minutes of guitar solo]

Vash the Stampede: hi my name is Vash the Stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love. all I really want to do is have a sandwich and a morning coffee without getting chased by bandits

some bandit: (gunshot) absolutely not. square up faggot

Vash: rats.

[gunfight]

Vash the Stampede: my name is Vash the stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love.could I please have a sandwich

Meryl from the Bernardelli Insurace Society: how long are you going to sit on your ass doing nothing but playing games with children and doing chores for the elderly and disabled and looking after lonely youths and cooking dinner for the homeless

Vash: I've been here for like 2 days

Milly Thompson: Hi Vash!

Vash: Hi Milly

[exit left pursued by bounty hunters]

Vash the Stampede: (panting, entering a bar) my name is Vash the stampede.... I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Good L*rd what is going on in here

Hostage: mphdsfhapff!!!! mffmpphhf!!!!

Villain of the week: well if it isn't the elusive Vash the Stampede! you see it all started when I was 4 days old and you kicked me like a football and then exploded my parents to death with a laser canon and killed every puppy in a ten ile (translator's note: this is the No Man's Land equivalent of the American Mile) radius

Vash: I don't remember doing that but well I suppose you can shoot me if it'll make you feel better

Side character of the week: Are you insane? Just shoot him instead???

Vash: but my mom told me not to be mean to people

Villain of the week: (still going) And as I am now 47 years old I have finally decided to get my revenge. Say your prayers, Vash the Pisshead

[Wall explodes and reveals a motorcycle with a sexy priest on it]

[sfx: guitar with a hint of electric distortion]

Vash: is that..... Wolfwood?

Meryl who was in the background this whole time: the priest?

Nicholas Dickolas Wolfwood: (brings his fingers up to a pair of luscious lips to grab the cigarette from right between them, taking one more slow inhale before crushing the cherry red underneath his heel)(sensually cocks one of his 8 guns) Are you just gonna let this guy talk down to you like that needle noggin?

Vash: I g-

[guitar riff bumper]

[guitar riff bumper]

Vash: -uess not, since you're here to help now... (slow, warm smile) Wolfwood

Nicholas D. ranged Wolfwood: Vash

Milly who was also in the background this whole time: Hi mr priest man! isn't this lovely, I haven't seen you since the last time you spoke with mr Vash yesterday evening when you were helping him buckle all those silly belts on his pants after he had lost them somehow

Vash: On a cactus

Milly: On a cactus! Oh it must've hurt so terribly; how fortunate that Mr Priest man was there to help you

Wolfwood: Hi Milly

[gunfight]

Villain of the week: ohhhhh curses!!! CURSES!!!! I have spent my whole existence getting ready to fight Vash the Stampede but he's just too good at swallowing all my bullets!!!!!!

Vash the Stampede: my tragic dead mother would be sad if I didn't swallow everyone's bullets so I've trained diligently every morning at digesting gunpowder without dying immediately

Wolfwood: [internally: I can't believe it. All this time I've spent walking the path of darkness, reaching to a pure light that I could never grasp, and yet here is a man who's dedicated his life and his body to the pursuit of Peace. I wish he were a woman so I could fuck him romantic style. I've got a whole plan for it and everything. Whiskey, sunset, a bed with no sand in it, 6 hours. This would be fully and completely possible if only he were a woman. Unfortunately he's not, but I can still think about the what-ifs. platonically of course. Maybe if he got some good dick he'd stop being so annoying. And maybe he'd stop making me rethink my morals. I wonder if the seven drunken handies meant anything to him. Platonically]

Wolfwood: Well anyway it looks like my job is done here

Vash: (teary) Will I see you again?

Wolfwood: I don't know. And besides, whenever I look at you, I'm reminded of everything I hate about myself. You know, it hurts.

[exit Nicholas D. Wolfwood pursued by repressed homosexual desires and immense catholic guilt]

Vash the Stanned Peat: (looking out the window like a widow whose husband was killed in action) Nicholas... D... Wolfwood.......

Meryl who was in the background that entire time, yes, the whole time: shut the fuck up already

Vash: when will it be my turn Meryl. When

[roll credits]

[sassydefendorflower]

I want to talk about something. I want to talk about ableism in fandom. And sexism in fandom. Oh, and racism in fandom.

Mostly though, I wanna talk about how the discussion about these things often gets derailed because people don't understand what trends and typical behaviors actually are.

Whenever a Person of Color, a woman, someone disabled, someone queer (or an intersection of any of these groups) points out that certain fandom trends are bigoted in some shape or form, half the replies seem to be "but they are my comfort character! Maybe people just like them better because they are more interesting!" or even "people are allowed to have headcanons!" - the very daft even go for a "don't bring politics into fandom" which is a personal favorite because nothing exists in a vacuum and nothing is truly apolitical. But alas~

What most of these replies seemingly fail to understand is something very, very simple: it's not about you.

You, as an individual, are just one datapoint in a fandom. You are not the trend. You do not necessarily depict the typical behavior.

When someone points out that there is racism in fandom, that doesn't mean every fan is racist or perpetuating racist ideas*. By constantly mentioning your own lack of racism, quite often, you are actively derailing the conversation away from the problems at hand.

When someone names and describes a trend, they don't mean your headcanon specifically - they mean the accumulated number of headcanons perpetuating a harmful or outdated idea.

I am not saying this to forbid anyone from writing fics about their favorite characters or to keep anyone from having fun headcanons and sharing their theories and thoughts - quite the opposite actually. A critique of a general trend is not a critique of you as an individual - and you're going to have a much better, and more productive, time online if you can internalize that. If you stop growing defensive and instead allow yourself to actually digest the message of what was pointed out.

I am saying this to encourage some critical thinking.

Allow me to offer up some examples:

Case 1: A DC blogger made the daring statement that maybe Tim and Jason were such a popular fanfic focus because they are the only two undeniably white batboys. Immediately someone replied saying "no, it's all the fun traumatic situations we can put them in!". Which is an insane statement to make, considering the same can be said for literally ANY OTHER DC Batman and Batfam character.

The original post wasn't anything groundbreaking, they didn't accuse anyone, didn't name any names... but immediately there was a justification, immediately there was a reason why people might like these characters more. No one stopped to take a second and reflect on the current trends in fanfiction, no one considered that maybe this wasn't a declaration against people who like these characters but a thesis depicting the OVERALL trend of fandom once again focusing on undeniably white (and male) characters.

(don't get me started on the racebending of white characters in media that has a big Cast of Color and the implications of that)

Case 2: A meta posted on Ao3 about ableism in the Criminal Minds fandom caught my attention. A wonderful piece, very thoughtful, analyzing certain characterization choices within the fandom through the lens of an actually autistic person. The conclusion they reached: the writing of Spencer Reid as an autistic character, while often charming and comforting, tended to be incredibly infantilizing and at worst downright ableist. They came to that conclusion while CLEARLY stating that the individual fanfic wasn't the problem, but the general fandom trend in depicting this character.

Once again, looking at the replies seemed to be a mistake: while many comments furthered the discussion, there were quite a few which completely missed the point. Some were downright hostile. Because how dare this author imply that THEY are ableist when they write their favorite character using that specific characterization.

It didn't matter that the author allowed room for personal interpretation. It didn't matter that they noted something concerning about the entire fandom - people still thought they were attacking singular people.

Case 3: I wrote a fic about abortion in the FMA(b) fandom (actually I've written a weird amount of fics about abortion in a lot of fandoms, but alas) and I got hate comments for it. Because of that I addressed the bias in fandom against pro-choice depictions of pregnancies. I pointed out that the utter lack of abortion in many omegaverse stories or even mpreg or het romances, painted the picture of an unconscious bias that hurt people for whom abortion was the only option, the best possible ending. The response on the post itself was mostly positive, but I got anon hate.

(which I can unfortunately not show you since I deleted it in the months since)

And I'm not overly broken up about it, but it also underlines my point: by pointing at a general problem, a typical behavior, a larger trend... people feel personally attacked.

This inability to discuss sexism, ableism, racism, transphobia, etc in fandom without people turning defensive and hurt... well, it damages our ability to have these conversations at all.

Earlier I said YOU are not the problem - well, i think part of this discussion is acknowledging that: sometimes YOU are in fact part of the problem. And that's not the end of the world. But you can only recognize yourself as a cog in the machine, if you can examine your own actions, your own biases, your own preferences critically and without becoming defensive.

And, again, this is not to keep you from finding comfort in your favorite characters and headcanons. This is also not to say that I am free of biases and internalized bigotries - I am also very much a part of the system. A part of the problem.

This is so you can comfortably ask yourself "but why is there no abortion in this universe?" or "why are my favorite black characters always the top in my slash ships?" or "why do I write this disabled character as childish and in need of help?" - and sometimes the answer is "because I am disabled and I want comfort", and that's fine too.

There is no one shoe fits all in fiction. There is not a single trope that captures all members of a group. There is no single stereotype that isn't also someone's comfort. No group is a monolith, no experienced all-encompasing (or entirely unique).

There is never a simple answer.

But that doesn't mean you should stop questioning your own biases, your own ideals.

Especially, if you grow defensive if someone points out that a certain trend you engage in might be racist. Or sexist. Or queerphobic. Or fucking ableist.

*this does not mean negate the general anti-blackness perpetuated by most cultures as a result of colonialism and slavery

[lilacxquartz]

A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES

part 1 of 3 • mahito x reader

summary: following an accident that destroyed your vision, you begin to suspect that your boyfriend, your caretaker, was actually replaced by an imposter.

tags/themes: body horror, psychological horror, reader insert, disturbing themes, dead dove, dark

ao3 • masterlist • more series

1. Fade Away

The accident itself came out of nowhere.

All you could remember was the squeal of the tires and the slamming force that threw you forward against the dashboard. The glass around you held for maybe a second before it collapsed and fell like sharp, near lethal snow.

Soon after, darkness followed, but not the slow pull of sleep or even death, but quite literally something pitch black and devoid of colour that crept into your vision, or lack of.

Before you knew it, the world was taken away from you and as was your remaining hope.

Essentially, you were left unable to see.

At least maybe temporarily, or so the doctors had otherwise claimed, feeding you a false sense of promise that the light could one day return. Days, maybe weeks all blurred together in perpetual darkness otherwise, so it didn’t take too long for your hope to fade.

The recommendation was to wear eyepatches over your eyes, or rather, a dual patch to both protect your eyes as they heal as well to hopefully make the gradual return of vision not feel so overwhelming.

You hated the things if you were honest; the very feel of them resting atop your eyes only served as a mocking reminder of just how easy it was to ruin the course of your life within mere seconds.

Your boyfriend however, as sweet as he was, tried to see you through it all. His calm and kind voice was the only consistent thing throughout your entire experience. He was always there to guide you when you couldn’t find your way—telling you it was all going to be okay—even if that word no longer made sense to you.

What was it… to be okay anymore?

Everyday, you looked forward to his calming voice and his gentle touch, except for when you didn’t; at least not anymore.

It was a subtle shift in the air, but something had changed.

When he walked into the room, something about his presence felt off. He greeted you the same way that he did before and the sound of his voice was familiar enough, but there was a different quality to it. It wasn’t wrong, at least not exactly, but something about the way he spoke had suddenly felt unnatural.

The way he touched you felt slightly… off, too. His touches were usually light against your skin; yet whoever this was, seemed to apply an uncomfortable amount of weight against you.

The scent in the room, the scent of his cologne that he wore was the exact same, although it was certainly faint, as though stale.

Maybe you were just going insane…?

It wasn’t that unlikely, you supposed. The trauma was life altering enough and after being in a loop of total darkness for the last couple of weeks, it was highly probable that the very last strings of your sanity were finally on their last threads. This whole thing was disorienting enough, since you essentially lost what you knew as the entire world in just a matter of minutes, so maybe it was the case of your senses being elevated a little too much.

It was a possibility, right?

Your mind was probably to blame, playing sneaky and cruel little tricks on you and feeding into the exhausting paranoia of losing one of your most vital senses.

The feeling however still persisted deep down. It was a creeping unease that would sink to the depths of your stomach and bubble away into poorly digested yet festering doubt every time he would reunite with you.

His laughter, while soft and familiar, now carried a hollow tone. His breath felt somehow hotter, his words felt almost… rehearsed. Your heightened remaining senses be damned; you knew it in the core of your very being that you weren’t crazy for picking up on such things.

It was the way his footsteps walked down a methodical path on his way to be with you. or how he hesitated to say your name, instead calling you sickly sweet nicknames that he had otherwise never before in his life used on you.

It was strange, but the company of someone you supposedly had loved for the last five years, had become almost foreign to you.

At one point, you reached for his hand while lying down next to him in bed and your fingers grazed against his, only for you to pull back away in an instant. His soft palms were now calloused and you could feel strange sorts of sutures line up his wrist in brushing retaliation.

You continued to try and drill in the idea that this had to have been all in your head out of desperate delusion, hoping, praying even, that it was the fault of the darkness for twisting everything into something so vile.

But still, that nagging feeling persisted. It wasn’t fear clouding your judgement; it was an innate warning to trust your gut to understand that something was actually terribly wrong.

You didn’t dare question him however, because after all, this person—whoever he actually was—was the only one who had fed you, bathed you and cared for you. How could it not be him? You kept telling yourself that it had to be because you were otherwise stumped on all other plausible explanations.

Whoever it was that tucked themselves away next to you in bed and idly traced haunting patterns in your skin was not the person you once knew.

It was absolutely, without a doubt, someone else.

Someone pretending to be him.

~~~

The doctors had been cautiously optimistic concerning your recovery; a phone call with the person who had initially treated you had revealed that while the accident had been devastating, your future might not be in ruins just yet. With time and provided that you were correctly taking the medicine that your boyfriend had been giving you, you should actually begin to heal.

There were signs to look out for in your returning vision; flickers of light, passing shadows and the like. They warned you that it might at times seem alarming, but it was all positive; a sign of healing, if you were lucky enough.

And much to your delight, you started to indeed notice hints of your vision returning after a while. Exercised moments without the eye patches would reveal partial sight in the form of colourful blurring patches manifesting within your view. It was something so little yet so hopeful, but you couldn’t help but cling to the fleeting glimpses of colour that painted your vision with almost elated anticipation.

Anything but constant darkness.

If you could at least see colour, even if it wasn’t so clear, then suddenly the future wasn’t as bleak as before.

Yet, every time you thought you were getting better, the progress would soon slip away every time he visited.

Just like the initial shift, it all started subtly. The brief casted moments of light would be stolen from you the second that he left the apartment, leaving you behind in a suddenly plunged black void and whenever you would mention this in a call to the doctors, they were simply perplexed. According to them, if you were seeing positive changes in your vision, then it should be improving—not deteriorating.

They told you that they would arrange for your partner to pick up a changed strain for the medication, hoping that an adjustment to your treatment should guide you in the correct direction.

But try as you might, the pattern continued to repeat itself, again and again.

You would heal and then the lights would go out.

You could have sworn that it was his doing somehow, even if the assigned blame was insane in its own right. With every touch from his tainted fingertips, he would somehow weaken you despite being otherwise gentle. It was so odd, because it was like he eluded poison from every stroke against the contours of your flesh.

You soon grew to fear contact with him as a result; dreading any sort of contact with the impostor who claimed to be your lover, lest he would damage you again. It was as though every time his fingertips brushed against your skin, he changed something about you and with every recurring visit, it only got worse.

You kept trying to talk to him about it, hoping that his once warm personality would return and tell you that you were wrong about your assumptions but you never got such comfort.

Again and again, you would ask him something of the same sort of variation, “I’m getting worse, aren’t I?”

But there would be no comfort that followed.

“Don’t be silly,” he would often taunt, almost, his words always so playful as they flicked off of his tongue with hidden venom. “Why would you feel worse, huh? That’s so funny to me, because you shouldn’t. I’m taking such good care of you, silly. You should be feeling better.”

His voice was soft when he spoke too, like smooth dripping honey against your weary ears. “Maybe you’ve got it all wrong, even. You’re feeling worse from me not being around. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you running, safe and sound.”

His words were now more erratic, almost playful. He no longer carried the same patterns that your partner once did with his speech. You wanted nothing more than to pull away from this monster—because that’s what he must have been—to escape from him, to scream at him to leave you alone because how dare he pretend to be someone you loved?

And yet you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Instead, you did nothing, resigning yourself to just sitting there, laying there as he would continue to purr falsely planted reassurances into your ears with promises that you prayed that he would not keep.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he would say, “I’ll be right here, always. Watching every last bit of you unravel—I mean heal. We’re in this together, right? I’ll stay with you until there’s nothing left—I mean, until you’re fixed right up.”

You could only sigh and endure, the ache behind your eyes getting gradually worse, as if something was pushing and pulling inside of your skull somehow; messing around internally, poking and prodding in places that should have remained untouched.

It didn’t take long for your body to feel wrong, like it wasn’t put together correctly anymore.

Like it didn’t belong to you anymore.

You could have sworn that your skull was contorting under your skin, slowly twisting and waning through whatever pressure his passing touch would apply.

Sometimes, late at night (or what you assumed to be night), you would lie awake and feel things moving inside of you; slowly, and deliberately—as though something was crawling beneath your flesh.

And all you could do was just sit there.

Broken, blind and waiting for the next visit.

For the next time that this thing wearing your boyfriend’s persona would return and wrap its hands around your body once again, uttering sweet little lies while tearing you apart from the inside.

“It’s all gonna be okay,” he would murmur or rather, mock, “I’m here for you, after all.”

But it wasn’t going to be okay.

That much you did know.

In fact, you had a very good idea that nothing was ever going to be okay ever again.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are doing well. I was wondering if you are still open for requests. If so, may I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein his precious captive darling is sick and refuses to be nursed by him

I am 4ever open for requests. I am grateful for the meal. It shall be digested properly.

Let Me Take Care of You.

note: You guys ever been so sick you started crying???

You both knew that this shouldn't go on for any longer. You knew you should've given in a long, long time ago. You've never felt so....terrible from a sickness before. You've never felt this helpless. Weak. But you showing weakness wasn't what destroyed you. You could care less if you looked helpless because the pain and struggle was just that great. You couldn't eat. You could only down liquids and, fuck, you really couldn't speak either. Your lower back hurt. Your arms hurt. Your sides hurt. Your neck hurt. You couldn't rest properly because of the pain. And on top of that, you were extremely fatigued, and dizzy.

During the daytime, you would overheat and even the thinnest shirts with wide-open windows could cool you. But at night, the slightest crack in the window with the millions of blankets you had on top of you couldn't warm you up. It was hell on Earth. And Kento couldn't bare to sit back and watch you struggle any longer. You were his sweetheart. His baby. His everything. And you wouldn't let him help you. It was driving him insane. In the morning, he would watch you move at a snails pace into the kitchen to refill your glass with water. You would avoid eye contact. If he told you good morning, you would reply. But your voice trembled when you spoke, as if it was a task to even make noise. It made him put his newspapers down in extreme concern. But still, you wouldn't let him help you. Take care of you.

It was when he came back for work that he decided he had enough. He thought about it the entire time he was on the clock. He took you in for a reason. He vowed to himself that he would never neglect you and would always take care of you. Yes, he wanted you to be comfortable around him, and yes, he allowed you to set some barriers between the two of you, but you were so sick.

When he walked in the door, all of the lights were off and it was slightly stuffy. The windows were all closed and you obviously didn't eat, seeing the empty kitchen sink with no dirty dishes. He sighs and makes his way to the bathroom. He goes to turn on the light when he hears the soft sound of sobbing from the bedroom. He freezes and turns towards the bedroom door, walking over to sneakily place his ear on it. You're crying. Kento knocks on the door. "Y/n?" Immediately, the sound stops. "Can I come in, please?" You sigh shakily underneath the covers. How the fuck did he hear you? You tell him no. The door creaks open and he softly closes the door behind him.

He walks around to your side of the bed and kneels down to see your puffy face, wet with tears. It breaks his heart knowing he was gone and couldn't comfort you when you were crying like this. "Hey, what's wrong?" He rubs your arm above the blankets and you sniffle. "It's nothing. Please leave me alone." God, you sounded like you were in pain. You could almost see a vein popping out of his neck. You were beginning to stress him out. "Y/n." You shook your head. "No."

His eye twitched and he got into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Sweetie, you know I told you not to keep secrets. Can you please tell me what has you so upset?" It was so painfully obvious what was wrong. There were used tissues scattered on the ground, you had so many blankets, and he could see your sunken in face.

"You're sick."

You used the energy you didn't have to try and turn the other way. You only managed to get yourself onto your back. It was silent between the two of you. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on not crying again, but it was just too much. You didn't want his help. He ruined your life. Kidnapped you, erased your public image, got rid of your phone number. You had nothing but him. You didn't want him. You ignored him. You tried to ignore him. He's right here for you and you just can't help but realize he's quite literally all that you have. It's so humiliating how you have to depend on the only person who you hate that is willingly giving himself to you like this.

A terrible sob rips itself out of your chest and you cover your face with your hands, a migraine reappearing at the strain you place on yourself once more. "I know I'm sick. I fucking know!" You couldn't even properly yell at him, too tired to even try. He frowns, and kneels on the floor, closer to the edge of the bed. "Then why don't you let me take care of you?" He wants to wipe your face of the tears, wipe the sweat off of your forehead. Feel you again. But he's scared he'll stress you out even more.

His hand almost hovers over your face as you cry. Your sad sigh of pain gives him the courage he needs to gently bring the back of his index finger over your face. He wipes a tear that falls down your cheek before bringing his other hand to wipe the other side completely. You let him. His touch was so very gentle. As if he didn't want to scare you away. "I can take care of you...." I am capable, he wanted to add that on. He loved you so much. He would rather fight a thousand curses before seeing you in this state again. He will do almost anything for you. Anything to see you happy. See you smile. He wanted to be fully yours. And he will do anything to prove that to you. Your eyes flutter open when he's done and you look over at him sadly.

Your eyes, so beautiful and beguiling, give him the softest look he's ever gotten from you. It makes his heart skip a beat and he sits up straighter. He would smile at you, but now is obviously not the time for that. "How do you feel? Do you want me to bring you medicine? Are you still in pain?" You look away before making eye contact with him again and nodding. He nods back and responds, "Okay. I will bring you some medicine and more water to drink." He wipes stray hairs off of your face, realizing how much you had to neglect yourself to rest. "I will make you beef stew, as well. You might be hungry, and your body needs energy to survive. I won't let you drink just water. Hopefully you will finish it all, and by then, maybe I could get you cleaned up, if you allow me to." You stare at him silently. He was offering to help you get better. You honestly don't remember the last time anyone has done that for you. But even then, he was still your kidnapper. Still, though, what were you going to do, say no? You hesitate before nodding to him. His face finally softens and he caresses your cheek one more time before forcing himself to stop.

"I love you." A weight is lifted off of his chest when he says those words. He wanted to say it to you in a better moment, but any moment is a good moment rather than when it's too late. He doesn't let you respond and gets up to leave and make you stew, a new fervor in his stride.

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugou Katsuki: Killer Skills

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: 1.2k, angst, fluff

• Being an ex-assassin provides skill, but when your secret is shared it makes things complicated with an explosive pro.

Warnings: Mature language, pro-hero age, mentions of killing.

>>>>——————————>

Never had you expected to be the catalyst of one night drastically changing form, yet neither had you expected your life to be thrust into the light by explosives either.

Calmly you stood, arms folded and expectant brow raised at said explosive.

"Look I'm not asking for help shadow shit, just a sous chef. I'm getting the extras together and need a hand since they're all still fucking useless in the kitchen."

"Alright, what are we making Katsuki?" Still addressing him so informally left him diverting his gaze but he gave a detailed list of his menu with vicious confidence.

—

It wasn't until hours later when surrounded by former classmates of UA did you feel minor pressure, even though you were trained to fit into any situation, this was still unnerving despite Bakugou giving a shoddy introduction. So many heroes, so many former enemies...

Did they didn't even know who you were?

What you were?

"Wow Bakugou, you finally found someone who's as good with a knife as you are!" The commentary of a bright brunette ripped you from your depths, the woman bubbly and impressed by the sight of the two of you dicing vegetables.

"Still think it's weird round face?"

"Yeah, how'd you get so skilled (L/n)?" Your blade paused mid strike upon hearing her question, low and regretful reply breathed into the world.

"Having skill with knife is pivotal to an assassin, luckily such a talent can be applied to various situations."

Aside from to Katsuki, you think it's the first truth you've told.

The room fell silent, Uraraka stepping back ever so slightly nearer the comfort of Izuku and beside you there was a prevalently harsh whisper from Bakugou.

"Shit."

That's when you realised you'd screwed up, of course they didn't know, Dynamight probably hadn't a chance to tell them nor the priority to either.

"Assassin? (L/n)-san you...?" The gravity quirk user stuttered out, the heroes in the room suddenly more defensive and dawned upon you one by one.

"Not anymore but my hands aren't clean and they never will be. However I'm trying to be better, now that I'm free. I swear upon my life."

"You are The Shadow, right? I suspected as such after their mysterious prolonged absence." Izuku decided, just as Katsuki predicted he would, but never had you been disappointed by sheer terror and anger tainting once gleaming faces before. Until now.

"I was. Then like you said, I disappeared. I made my first choice in a long time and chose to kill myself so I wouldn't be forced to do anything else I didn't want to." With your harrowing explanation and final assassination poetically being that of your previous alias, the room fell tensely silent once more upon the digestion of such a tale.

"You're responsible for so many d—" They were cut off before they could finish (but you knew where it was going) by the deafening sound of a knife stabbing into your chopping board with knuckles white on its handle. You felt the dangerous presence towering behind you, enough to make anyone think twice about a comment so brash.

"Bakubro why aren't you saying anything?! You should be blowing up right now unless—" A flash of realisation as Kirishima settled upon his friends' protective frame. "—you knew."

"'Course I knew, you think I'm an idiot?!" The blonde aggressively barked back, you felt his riding temperature against your back as he leaned forward slightly.

"No but this is insane! Since when were you one for villain redemption?"

"Like you fuckers can talk about redemption, we've seen plenty of assholes do bad things and sometimes it ain't their choice. You still saved them didn't you?" A knowing look was directed at Deku, who already seemed to emphasise.

"Kacchans' right, we can't assume a situation based on actions. Only that if a lighter path is what (L/n)-san has chosen, then we should support it until given reason otherwise." Miraculously the words of this admired man seemed to resonate with them, yet Katsuki remained somewhat defensive and hadn't revoked himself entirely from your space quite yet.

"Besides, if (Y/n) wanted to kill any of you, you'd be dead already. Take that as a trusting start." He made a point of eating your food, almost as if making an example of his guests' unanimous wariness once stepping back to his station.

"Katsuki! Don't say that, it doesn't help my case."

"What?! It's not a fucking lie, you even gave me a hard time." He bit back defensively, glaring daggers that all most matched the sharpness of yours.

"Someone who made Bakugou sweat? I'd like to take a crack at sparring you sometime if you wouldn't mind." Kirishima seemed revitalised with newfound admiration that was mildly unnerving, maybe this new hero generation hadn't forgiven your crimes but they were willing to get to know you at the very least.

"Uh— I mean I'm trying to be better, if helping you improve accomplishes that then I'll participate." You bowed, Katsuki only snorting and providing a venue proposal.

"Could use my training room? It's been a while since I've seen shitty hair and Pikachu get their asses kicked."

———

So after turning the night upside down, Red Riot and Chargebolt became your opponents in an orchestrated game.

"Alright I have two powders, if you get marked you are dead as per my previous occupation. If you can hit me, you both win." Came your brief explanation, holding up a pair of red fingertips on your left hand which everyone agree and understood.

With that, the onlookers could only watch as you manoeuvred varying attacks, sidestepping, jumping, and swishing past jolts of electric whilst simultaneously avoiding the hardened combat from Eijirou.

Suddenly, after about 3 minutes, you came to a solid stop which allowed Kaminari to barrel into you rather unceremoniously a second later who dizzily voiced his victory.

"I got them!" A panting breath. "I win!"

A chorus of applause and laughter echoed in the room with comments spewing from observations.

"Kiri check your back man!"

"Denki... you've got a little something..." Jirou vaguely gestured to her forehead and lo and behold when mirroring her actions, his fingers came back dusted with scarlet powder.

"Also I should say that the second powder was UV sensitive, so if Katsuki kindly adjusts the lighting?"

Immediately there was gasps of astonishment, both bodies were decorated with reflective vibrant marks that almost made you feel sick of your own competence.

"Woah?! You coulda killed use twenty times over and we didn't even manage to zap you!"

"Told ya morons." Katsuki joined your side, a nudge to your arm to knock you from your worrying thoughts and a diverting suggestion to get you away from the situation. "Let's eat, we didn't go through all that shit to waste the food you damn extras!"

"Sweet, then you can tell us the story of how you both met over dinner!" Despite being beaten, Kaminari had newfound interest in your past life as did the rest of the heroes - you couldn't blame them, you were infamous for a reason.

The domino sound of agreement left you snapping to the host in mild panic upon the possibility of having to relinquish such a turbulent memory. You hadn’t even told him he’s the reason you quit killing and he hadn’t dared bring up that kiss you shared in case it meant nothing to you. A seemingly mutual whisper escaped both of your lips.

"Shit."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[odditycircus-2002]

Mortal Kombat 1 Intros with Medusa!Reader

Spoilers for Story mode: Proceed with caution

Yourself (Mirror Match)

Y/N: How could you possibly willingly marry that snake?!?

Y/N 2: My dear snake gave me the fruits of knowledge you could never imagine. /

Y/N 1: Ugh, let me guess, you’re also married to Shang Tsung? Y/N 2: No, I am happily married to Syzoth. /

Y/N 2: Such a disappointment looking at my carbon copy. Y/N 1: It isss more disappointing that you are as insanely depraved as you are!

/

Y/N 2: Have you considered the benefits of Kytinn royal jelly for your cure?

Y/N 1: Ha! As I- Mmmhhh, You may be on to something. /

Y/N 1: I thought Lord Lui Kang turned you to dust! Y/N 2: Do you really think my husband and I would not have any contingencies? /

Y/N 1: You made Empress Sindel do WHAT? Y/N 2 gives a malicious chuckle: Pulling her strings was some of the most fun I had in a long time.

/

Y/N 1: You have some rather questionable taste in bedfellows.

Y/N 2: At least I can hold mine without fear of being stabbed instantly.

/ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung: Across all timelines, we were meant to be.

Y/N: Never in this one or the next will I ever belong to you!

/

Shang Tsung: You have to understand what you saw in my lab is what true progress looks like.

Y/N: To think, I ever marveled at watching you work with your magic.

/

Shang Tsung: I know you would love the rare flora that can be found on my island-

Y/N: I rather see a carnivorous plant digest you slowly.

/

Y/N: I regret not ending you when I had the chance.

Shang Tsung: Don’t blame yourself too much, my sweet. I know you still hold a torch for me.

/

Y/N: You will NOT lay a hand on Baraka!

Shang Tsung: I will not let a filthy beast get in between us!

/

Y/N angrily: Every day, I wake up to find a stranger in the mirror.

Shang Tsung softly: And yet, you're the same clever woman as always.

/

Shang Tsung angrily: It wasn't enough to steal my birthright, but you also had to take away my soul mate?

Lui Kang: I did nothing of the sort, YOU drove her away.

Baraka

Y/N coquettishly: Do not go easy on me, Baraka.

Baraka: I know how you like it rough.

/

Y/N: So we are in agreement?

Baraka: Only IF you win, I'll stomach any greens you want me to eat for the next 3 moons.

/

Y/N: Sometimes, I wish we could-

Baraka: So do I, Y/N

/

Y/N: I heard from Ashrah that you asked her to end your life if you were to lose your mind.

Baraka: I did not want to burden your soul by having you take my life.

/

Baraka: How close are you to finding a cure?

Y/N: As much as I loathed to admit it, Shang Tsung's research has put me even closer to finding a permanent one.

/

Baraka: If you want to enter the Kytinn Hive, you’ll need to fight harder than ever before.

Y/N: I know I can trust you to watch my back, my friend.

/

Baraka: Stay away from Y/N, Sorcerer!

Shang Tsung: You cannot stop destiny, savage!

Syzoth

Y/N: I have so much to thank you for, Syzoth.

Syzoth: It's the least I can do for all I've been complicit in.

/

Syzoth: Does your skin still burn, Y/N?

Y/N: Not really, but my skin has been itching and flaking like mad.

/

Y/N: If I had known what Shang was doing to you, Syzoth-

Syzoth: Then you probably would been given a worse fate.

/

Syzoth: Zikandar barely survived the Kytinn's attack, and you want to follow them to their hive???

Y/N: If my theory about Kytinn royal jelly is correct, I could finally cure Tarkat!

/

Y/N gives a smug grin: Think you can slip out of my constricting hold?

Syzoth grins in return: If I can slip past Shao's forces, I'll have no trouble doing the same with you.

/

Syzoth teasingly: I believe you and Baraka would make a tremendous mated pair.

Y/N: Th-th-that'sss very kind of you to say, Syzoth.

/

Syzoth: I know what you did to her wasn't an accident.

Shang Tsung: I am not as heartless as to do that to my precious flower.

Mileena

Mileena: Why did you not tell me or Mother sooner about what happened?

Y/N: By then, your mother would not hear anything I had to say.

/

Mileena: Don't you regret being unable to save Mother?!

Y/N: My regret haunts me no matter the hour.

/

Mileena with desperate hope: Are you really close to a cure???

Y/N: I'm close to a breakthrough, but I will need a legion of soldiers to collect the most important ingredient.

/

Y/N: You did not happen to skip your required meditative exercises to sparr with Tanya again, did you?

Mileena: And what if I did? Skipping one session won't kill me.

/

Y/N: If I had found a way to treat your symptoms sooner, your mother would never have welcomed Shang Tsung into her court.

Mileena: One way or another, that Snake would have found some way to slither into the court.

/

Y/N: For what you did for the Tarkatans, you are already proving to be a fine Empress.

Mileena: It warms my heart to hear such praise from you.

/

Y/N: We are both trapped in bodies not our own.

Mileena: I pray to the gods that we may one day find a cure for you as well.

Shao

Shao: I almost regret not inviting you to join my cause.

Y/N: Your father should have let you die as a child!

/

Y/N: Your so-called "Patriotism" is nothing but a ruse to hide your lust for power.

Shao: And here I thought you were clever as your reputation says.

/

Y/N: I was tempted to leave you to die of your wounds, countless times.

Shao: Hah! For a Healer you are rather callous.

/

Y/N: I have to say, Reiko makes a far better statue than he ever did as a soldier.

Shao: Reverse your curse, witch!

/

Y/N: In hindsight, it is not so ssssurprising that your pride would have you betray the Empire.

Shao: I fight against the Royal Family for the sake of Outworld!

/

Shao: What in the Netherrealm did you do to my troops?!?

Y/N: I simply had the wildlife you hunt around your camp eat some special shrooms.

/

Shao: What do you truly know of War, Little Healer?

Y/N: Enough to know every possible way the mightiest can break.

Sindel

Y/N: I cannot fathom you as some vile harpy.

Sindel: Nor I with you as a heartless mad woman.

/

Y/N: I have deeply missed your hanging gardens.

Sindel: Perhaps later we may visit them together for old times sake.

/

Y/N: I am happy to report that Mileena is improving in mind and spirit

Sindel: I hope the same could be said for her body.

/

Sindel hurt: Why did you not come to me after what Shang Tsung did to you?

Y/N: I feared you would turn me away like you did with Lei Mei once you saw my visage.

/

Sindel: Care to explain the statue that strongly resembles Reiko in the middle of my garden?

Y/N: He had it coming to him.

/

Sindel: I am sorry, Y/N, the answer is still no. As Empress, I can not risk catching Tarkat.

Y/N hissing: If you only ssssaw what disgraceful conditions you forced the afflicted to live with!

/

Sindel: I am happy you found joy as I did with Jerrod, even with his disease.

Y/N surprised: What has Mileena been telling you now?

Johnny Cage

Johnny: Seriously, what did you see in Shang Tsung?!?

Y/N, with an exasperated sigh: Only what he wanted me to see.

/

Johnny: You will NOT believe how much my fans ship you and Baraka.

Y/N: Ship? Do they plan on building a boat for us?

/

Johnny: I totally have a chance with Katana... Don't I?

Y/N: *Hisses in amusement before responding* Ahhh, you are amusing Earthrealmer but no.

/

Y/N: Dammit Earthrealmer! I'm a healer, not an actress!

Johnny: But you already have the part down to a T!

/

Y/N: I too am something of a jokester.

Johnny: Ehhh no offense beautiful, but I'm not one for your brand of dark comedy.

/

Y/N: Why would you show me such a film???

Johnny: I swear, I forgot that's what happened to Medusa in that scene!

/

Baraka: Care to explain why Y/N seemed so frightened when she returned from your abode?

Johnny: Wait, wait, wait! I can explain!

/

Ashrah

Y/N almost smugly: So I resemble a demon?

Ashrah: That’s not exactly a good thing, Y/N.

/

Y/N: Baraka asked you to do what now?!

Ashrah: I pray you can find a cure for his condition before it comes down to that.

/

Y/N bashfully: Wh-what has Syzoth been telling you?

Ashrah: So are you and Baraka not a couple?

/

Y/N: I will gladly help you put down Quan-chi, as long as you do the same with Shang Tsung.

Ashrah: Together, we will put a permanent stop to both our tormentors.

/

Ashrah: My kris appears rather split with you.

Y/N: Considering some of things I’ve done, that doesn’t surprise me.

/

Ashrah: I am grateful you support Syzoth and I.

Y/N in a happy tone: Just be aware that if you hurt him any way, you’ll be begging for death. /

Ashrah: For a healer, you’re rather…

Y/N: Violent? That's always just been me.

A/N: Don't forget to like, reblog, and comment as I love hearing from y'all! Stay weird, my fellow humans.

[spaloonbabooguuscooties]

You could drink your whole life away and still never get that taste out of your mouth.

half commission for @salempie half completely self indulgent dreck pieced together from our insane conversations abt franke and elka. told myself id finally write a big explanation for all of the dum shit between these two for context so Thats Under The Cut.

so I already wrote some stuff about elka and franke's relationship back in whispering rock so feel free to look at that too . it goes over elkas blindness/‘seeing’ with clairvoyance and how her and franke started talking & all that good stuff

SO FOR STARTERS. a lot of thsi wont make sense without a big breakdown of elka herself. because elkas potential as a character is like insane to me. like just the idea of her in the long run of her life reads as something so potentially tragic; a young girl whos plagued with visions of doom and destined to be an outcast even in her own home for things she cant control and clings to the One vision of her wedding that she thinks is 'happy' even despite the fact she doesnt really love the person in it. im choosing to take the li-po doc as canon here because its funny shes the only one with backstory-

but my fucking god even the smallest look into what her parents are like is soo fucked up to me. and i do think elka especially gets a lot of influence from her mother; its funny how easily you can fit mabel doom into a box just from what elka says about her. knees deep in an avon-esque pyramid scheme and leaning into her daughters depressing ass visions & taking her to therapy at age 11 (which would be good if not for the kind of person you can already assume she is & so i doubt the therapist she has really does her any good. i think they share one). she reads as a very I Am My Daughters Best Friend type of mom to me and i can see elka being a centerpiece of the conversation when she has her Amway Girls over for drinks. wine-mom that lets her kid sip from the glass so she can feel like a big girl type deal.

and you can tell that elka is trying to hard to be too mature for her age even in her campster posts. how she writes letters to nils' mom and exchanges baking recipes with her and that feels like she really only interacts with middle aged women and not really many people her own age outside of camp (like her moms friends). which makes sense shed feel the need to ‘grow up’ early when shes probably had to process so many hard things at a young age bc of her visions.

theres a lot of filling the blanks here of course.

elka obsesses over nils to an overbearing degree even despite the fact he treats her like shit ('you promised no talking' and so on) and she treats him bad right back. she leans onto stereotypical heterosexual ideals like taking care of him and overblowing how Manly and Protective JT is and she admires romance stories like pride and prejudice and it feels like she Projects Soooooooo much of what she wants onto boys she barely feels anything for without knowing what its actually supposed to feel like. and clearly she WANTS that ideal future, a happy marriage, an actual romance- but according to nils even when they were dating she ignored him most of the time, which just seems Very Telling

like shes filling a role, overcompensating for emotions and lacktherof she cant digest quite yet, and it only makes more sense when you know shes had visions of their future together. how could that be bad for her? shouldnt it be like the books and movies? but she doesnt really connect the fact that her visions are only for Doomed futures, and if she does she certainly doesnt show it. Doomed relationships. it's been a part of her family for generations and she isn't turning out much different, is she? i dont think she even realizes thats all she ever sees yet, just that its Going to happen. that it's Her future, and it always will be

and like, her only reference for a real marriage so far has been her own parents, and she already Knows they have an affair, and theyre doomed to split, (and i actually like to think they were in rough waters anyway and elka was a child meant to mend a crumbling marriage but thats a whole other thing) and so without a framework for what an actual healthy relationship is supposed to be like she cant really grasp that her relationship with nils Isnt that and isnt ever going to be. she can only cling to this one happy idea of the future, and thats why she keeps chasing him, self fulfilling the actuality of her situation and creating and fostering the unhappy life they will inevitably live together.

and that bleeds into everything else in her life, of course, because as the years go on, as the visions grow in number it just makes sense for her to fall into the predictability of her life. she always knows whats going to happen, her visions are Never wrong- so why try to change things? shes had time to process tragedies days, weeks, months, years before they happen, shes had time to settle into every crack of her life. her parents divorce, her various break ups, her future with the psychonauts.

“and she's already seen so much of a future with [nils] she feels trapped almost. Like she has to be happy in it or else it just means her life is miserable. And it's a mixture of pride and fear of the unknown that keeps her clinging to the One thing she knows. BUT LIKE!!! She knows what's gonna happen! It's easier to grieve when she's been grieving for years... She wants so badly to be happy, But to do that she has to step into the unfamiliar. And that's more terrifying than staying the same miserable person she's always been.”

and thats where franke comes in— and yeah you Do have to take a lot of liberties for frankes character since it’s basically, like, all the info for her is just that shes a Supreme Baby Dyke but thats enough for me. i think she has protective butch itch in her . on campster shes defensive over other women evidenced in the way she keeps watch over the girls cabins for lili when elton is pursuing her . but shes also eager to please and constantly trying to make kitty laugh and also Very naive. but she tries! and i think it only solidifies more as she gets Older and really gets a hold of her feelings & her powers. this is incredibly franke to me

and i think as they grow older together— because i think franke and elka Do stay friends, both because elka is just pathetic and needs that positive connection even if she doesnt realize it and because i think franke is a very Loyal person & annoyingly persistent if you let her be . and i am also a kitty/franke truther. because kittys also important in this web we weave

because i think franke and kitty stay together after camp, to a point— theres a falling out facilitated on kittys end and they break up, but reconnect, and franke kind of... saves kitty from herself a little, from her strict military father whos love only extends thru finances , from her own stifling future , she drives all the way to bakersville in her shitty van handmedowned from her dad and they move in together eventually . they get jobs at the motherlobe , because it’s a pipeline to a decent job, because it’s whats easy, because franke doesn’t really have a future, because she’s never really been good at much, because shes never had much sense, because franke doesnt really care as long as she can live and help, sometimes, if she can, and because kitty’s there, and because elka’s there, and shes so used to being elkas eyes now and shes good at it. shes good at being the muscle of the missions when her colleagues lack it, when hypnosis and predictions arent enough. she likes it that way.

and elka appreciates frankes company. she listens, shes sweet, she does little things for her that no ones ever really put the effort for before; she likes her. franke is strong and bold and makes her laugh and shes always there but god elka cant let go of that future, of that box shes put herself in, that her mothers put her in, of being a Good Wife to a Loving Husband, of getting married normally and falling into unfailing familiarity. thats all shes ever wanted and shes not going to jeopardize that . not for franke, who may not be a boy but is handsome like one, whos always held her after every break up with nils and the men that filled empty days inbetween.

and elka is too stubborn to recognize those feelings anyway. too prideful to accept a way out. too set in her cycle no matter how much she hates it, her little self fulfilling tragedy of her own making, wallowing in her own doom. she struggles for control of her own life when she feels like every choice has been made for her anyway, she puts up her walls and carefully constructs what people see. but franke was always harder to trick, because while empathy isnt a particularly useful psychic power it’s certainly an inconvenient one. all franke has to do is get too close and all those carefully crafted walls fall apart, and elkas control is gone, and thats all she really has. and she tries to distance herself, really she does, but franke is also too persistent. and elka wears gloves, keeps contact that would make her walls crumble from happening as best as she can, but she cant really keep herself from the brief moments where she feels like someone actually fucking cares about her.

and that slightest lack of control, the need to wrestle it back is why she proposes to nils the next time theres a falling out— she knows how it happens, she plans every detail. and he accepts, despite everything. gets her a cheap ring and it feels like lead on her finger and its nothing at all like how shed thought it to be when she was a kid, theres no feather light feeling in her chest, only that dreadful reality that she cant turn this back. BUT WHAT CAN U DO LMAO

elka doesnt tell franke about this engagement until later, on their way back from a mission. late at night when neither of them can sleep, and franke invites elka to smoke in her van, because its been so long since theyve been alone like that, because elkas been so strangely absent lately. and because of everything, because frankes always so damn nice, because elka hates the feel of the ring on her finger, because she let herself get high alone with franke fucking athens whos always been so good at pulling her apart— the truth of it all spills out and its messy and emotional and she hates it, she hates the life shes made for herself, but franke makes it easier to bare and now shes here and shes so close and god she wishes she could see her smile again, she wishes she could see franke, thats all she needs right now and she cant but she can touch her and she can hold her and for tonight, she can be known, she can let those walls crumble, she can be something else just for once here with franke . she can kiss her here in this van, touch that happiness for just a moment, and forget the future that waits for her outside of it. franke begs her to forget the wedding, to just let herself be happy— and god, she wants to, but it means turning her back on everything shes known and everything shes saw to be inevitable, and franke has never been in her future, so if it were supposed to work out why hadnt she seen it and she cant, she cant take that risk but she can have this, even if its temporary, she can have it.

and just as soon as she gets a taste of it, its gone. after that night, after the missions over and theyre back at the motherlobe and have to pretend like nothing happened (franke doesnt, of course she tells kitty about it, she tells kitty about everything.) but that brief moment together haunts elka every time she sees franke, sees herself through frankes eyes, sees herself in her wedding dress because god its all franke can think about! of course it is! she knows how much elkas destroying herself she knows how much misery shes wallowing in that kiss in the van felt like an emotional punch to the teeth and she hasnt ever forgotten it and all she can do is sit and watch while elka throws herself into a loveless marriage. she can come to her wedding and see the way the bride and groom kiss with the emotional weight of a wet towel no matter how hard elka tries to hide it under a pretty dress and bouquets of flowers and meticulous planning.

and elka resents nils but she cant really hate him, its not his fault, not really. he feels trapped just like she does and his feelings of misery only cycle back into hers . they fight and gnash and wear away at each other and its a relationship thats crashed and burned a million times before elka even said i do. and its inevitable that she falls into her mothers habits, a sip of wine here and there to loosen up, until it turns to a glass, until it falls into a bottle on nights when whatever work nils does runs late.

but franke’s still there. shes always been there, hasn’t she? always trying to play knight, always trying to save her, dragging her home when shes stumbling over herself because god who else is going to do it but her? who else is left to care? certainly not nils. never nils. because franke knows her. because franke pities her. shes always pitied her. shes always known. and elka hates it, she resents it, but god in the same breath she’s desperate for it, she envies it to her very bones. elka is a mess but after frankes done with her she has someone to go back to that loves her. and god what elka wouldnt do to have that. to take it and keep it for herself because shes never ever got to have that movie romance shes always wanted.

so now comes this.

because elkas particularly miserable and particularly spiteful and she needs to get franke to understand, just for a moment, drink with her and get on her level and she needs her there with her no matter how her pity makes her feel. no matter how much it makes her shake with anger and envy and desperation, but god the way franke looks at her, the way she still tries to salvage what they have, the soft, slurred way she tells her that it’s okay but its not okay, none of this is okay, it never has been and she just wants franke to shut up and see that, and if she cant then she’ll show her, she’ll show her all the raw angry desperation, with too much teeth and hands that claw and grab and she’ll know why everyones always said she’s too much.

and she knows this puts her on nils’ level too. that this makes her a cheater, that shes no better than he is now. no better than her father and his affair. but god, she wants to be selfish. she wants to be in control. just for once. she wants to feel right and she wants to feel happy and she wants to feel loved. thats all shes ever wanted. and franke will let her have that, just for a little while, at the very least.

anyway. sorry. sorry for being crazy . this isnt even getting into the shit after the comic takes place . elkas stupid brainworld thag she has to overcome in order to finally be allowed in the polycule and live happily ever as worlds first lesbian divorceman

sorry for all the shit i make up instead of caring about actual characters with screentime . bye !

[chelseeebe]

three’s a crowd.

this is just porn with absolutely no plot if i’m being completely honest lollll i was at a festival this weekend and wanted to ease my brain back into writing and then this happened?? i do have part 1 ready to go for shattering expectations but am waiting to post

18+. voyeurism. perv!eddie i guess. unprotected sex hehe

imagine sneaking off to the bathroom with steve at some event you didn’t even want to come to because he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

they’re grabbing onto your supple thighs to hoist you up onto the sink, moving between your legs, lips not living yours as his large, hardened hands roam your body. dress yanked up over your thighs revealing a damp patch in your lacy panties.

he’s growling into your mouth, feeling his erection nudging perfectly at your sensitive clit. pulling him closer to you with your legs wrapped around his waist.

murmuring words of encouragement to tell him to hurry up. you need him now.

his pants coming undone, cock springing up against his stomach as you shuffle forward, hips tilted as you wait impatiently for him to fill you up.

trying so desperately not to make any noise when he slides inside, forehead resting against yours with the tinges of a smirk on his lips. he can feel just how soaked you are for him already, stretching your pretty pussy around him.

finding it too difficult to keep your mouth shut when he hits that sweet, spongy spot deep inside, mewling into his ear with a breath chorus of stevestevesteve.

you’re not sure if you’re hearing things but you’re sure the door creaks and your eyes flit over to spot eddie stood gawping, one hand still wrapped around the rusting door handle.

you startle a little at the sight, squeezing steve’s shoulder to grab his attention, ‘steve.. steve,’ different to the similar sounds you’d been making.

he looks back over his shoulder without much concern, tsks quietly before continuing to thrust his hips, the sounds of your wetness filling the tiny room.

it’s so fucking hot. it shouldn’t be hot.

knowing he’s just stood there watching, you should feel weird. it was. but it was just so sexy, encouraging you in a way you’d never known possible.

your stomach twists, averting your eyes as your head rolls back against the dirtied mirror. heels digging into his back when his thumb moves to circle your clit. using the opportunity to bury his head into your neck, suckling at the taut skin, littering the empty space in a plethora of purples.

head lolling to the side as you once again making eye contact with the other man still stood at the door. dropping to the obvious tent in his pants, hand twitching, just absolutely fucking desperate to touch himself.

eager to please, you steve in by the collar of his shirt, lazily connecting your lips. tongues and spit. eddie’s chest is heaving, near enough drawing blood from his teeth dug into his bottom lip.

your stomach twists, too blissed out now to care about one eddie munson stood at the door. steve’s hand is balanced on the porcelain basin, slamming into your cunt mercilessly, feeling you tighten around him. he knows you’re close, the sweet sounds rolling out of your mouth are indication enough.

‘fuck..’ you’re whining, thighs trembling as the coil snaps, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm overtakes your limbs. white hot flashes explode behind your eyelids. clinging onto steve’s neck in fear of falling off the flimsy sink.

steve grunts, burying himself to the hilt as thick ropes of hot cum paint your walls. leaving wet kisses along your jaw and down onto your already marked neck before pulling out. his pants back around his waist before you have time to even digest what had just happened.

he’s a gentleman, pulling your dress down and helping you from the basin. finding it so insanely hot to know he’s dripping out of you as you land on wobbly legs, cheeks burning when you catch sight of eddie again.

it’s a silent exchange between them but it makes you giddy all over again. steve nodding at the boy before taking your hand and pulling you out of the bathroom with as much haste as he’d pulled you into it.

the lock clicking as soon as the door is shut again.

[littleplantfreak]

Roadtrip headcanons

I had these in a draft for two weeks until @the-bofurin-digest started talkin about how amazing Togame would be on a roadtrip so I'm dedicating them to you ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (I was gonna let them rot in my wip docs before i saw the post)

Umemiya Hajime

- It depends on the trip but most likely he's prepared everything to a T. If something doesn't pan out in regards to travel time or itinerary he's the type to take it in stride and just enjoy being with everyone.

-Starts up conversations with random people at rest stops/destinations they visit and has to be dragged away because dude we've been here for half an hour and all they have are vending machines.

- Not so secretly likes being a passenger princess. I mean he'll drive no sweat but he loves watching everything passing by the window or turning around to make conversation with everyone. He will help the driver with anything they need tho whether it's a change in station, drinks, or navigation.

-Has the most insane ideas/questions for in-car games. No Sakura doesn't know what he'd do if Ume turned into a worm, but now he has dreams about it.

-If he's not driving he usually knocks out immediately on the way back home. (watch out he drools)

Hiragi Toma

-Please don't let Umemiya sit up front while he drives. In fact, put him in a whole other car (depending on how many of them go that may actually be plausible.)

-Super reliable driver, though if he claims he has a handle on his road rage, he does not. It doesn't affect how he drives nor is he usually yelling, but you can see his shoulders become increasingly tense the more bad drivers he spots. Needs to be fed medicine occasionally for his stomach.

-Not a snacker in the car but he won't turn down a coffee.

-He's good with directions, so whoever rides with him is in no danger of getting lost. Also no soldier is left behind when Hiragi is in charge and he check frequently after every rest/bathroom stop to make sure everyone and everything are in the car. -If the trip is to the beach or some other place where he can relax, he'll definitely take a power nap esp if they left home early.

-Plays his music on the way back home when everyone is sleeping.

Tsubaki Tasuku

-It's a great time no matter where Tsubaki is in the car. She drives and sings or sits passenger and sings. It's impressive how many songs she knows by heart actually. Chalk it partially up to her close relationship with Shizuka.

-When she's not singing, she has a thousand different stories to tell, so no one ever really gets bored. Opts for silence only when necessary, however if she's driving, she really would prefer someone talks to her.

-Kotoha's her go-to passenger in the front, but if she's not there/in a different car she'll just choose anyone not prone to sleeping the whole trip.

-Has a preference for cookies or sweets as an in-car snack.

Kaji Ren

-Sticks with his lollipops as a snack in the car.

-Not a fan of driving even when he has his license. Passenger or back seat for him please.

-Brings CDs and lets people use them but keeps his own headphones in most of the time, which is fine because he's not one for just talking about whatever for hours in the car.

-He curls into his hoodie when he passes out either to or from wherever the trip is. Even if the driver hits a pothole and his head bounces off the window, he stays knocked out, which is both concerning and hilarious.

Sakura Haruka

-Gets motion sick if he's not in the front, either as the driver when he's older or as the passenger. Unfortunately did not know this until the trip started and struggled to hold it in before making everyone stop by the side of the road while he dry heaved.

-If he's at driving age, he's actually a relaxed driver after the first few months of him getting his license. Prefers country driving to city no question though. It ends up being therapeutic for him to take long drives when he's older.

-Don't ask him to use the fancy new car radios that only have the screen, he'll end up with the heat on somehow in the middle of summer instead of changing the station. It's funny to watch him try and work it out until everyone's sweating buckets.

-Perks up if he sees a good food place and remembers it so they can stop there on the way back. Eats whatever he can grab in the car so long as he isn't sick.

[genderqueerdykes]

I really really appreciate the posts about fat acceptance and stuff. I used to be pretty underweight but I've definitely gained weight (and muscle too I'm sure) on HRT, the way it sits/distrubuted on me is something that is hard to see sometimes and there's a lot of parental commentary about fat people that needs to be worked on.

hey, you're welcome! i'm glad you agree

gaining weight isn't always bad, in fact for many people, it can be an outright blessing. people can have a wide variety of conditions that can lead them to being chronically underweight, and putting on even a few pounds was seen as a huge accomplishment and a safety net. my best friend is this way

even if it's not required for one's health, putting on weight isn't inherently bad. every person's body has a range in which it attempts to naturally sit for their baseline weight. this will vary greatly from person to person based off of activity levels, hormone levels, genetics, individual dietary needs vs. dietary intake, digestive issues, eating disorders, allergies, food intolerance, neurodivergence, developmental disorders, and more.

the way i see it is it becomes very obvious to a person when their weight has actually come to negatively affect them. this will be marked in a decline in energy, feeling fatigued and malaise most of the time, headaches, difficulty getting out of bed, increased chronic pain including pain while standing or walking, breathing difficulties, difficulty walking/moving long distances for reasons not due to joint or connective tissue health, becoming pre/diabetic suddenly if one was not before, and/or other health complications that were not present before the amount of weight was gained

most fat, chubby, etc. people are sitting well within the healthy range for their body without realizing it. our bodies are great at telling us what they need it's just hard to listen when we're busy, exhausted, and/or neurodivergent. many people have a good idea of what their body needs but get talked or shamed out of doing what's right for them. parents, like you said, are especially uptight and strict about weight for seemingly no reason.

i've always been fat my whole life. once i reached my teen years i began to hover around the 300 lb range and that's where i've always been. my mom was fat and so was my dad, and both of their families. my mom projected so much of her fatphobia on to me it was unreal. she would critcize me any time i wanted a snack by asking "you're eating again?" and other dumb shit. children are growing and active, they need a lot of food, especially for good brain function (yes, our brains need fuel, revolutionary concept, i know)

i don't understand why parents desperately NEED their children to be physically attractive to them. can we talk about this? i know it's uncomfortable but this is a huge parental issue. i am SO tired of hearing parents go ON AND ON about how "beautiful" or "handsome" their children are. it's extremely creepy, there's no reason to focus on their appearance like that. some parents become SO distressed when their children are not conventionally attractive, as if it makes them less attractive by proxy. it's insanely creepy. a child's conventional beauty or lack there of should be of no concern to a parent- why do some parents obsess over this? it gives the child severe body image issues and it's not a good level of vanity to project on to a kid

anyway, it's okay to be fat, especially if you find you're not struggling with pain or mobility. some people will have pain and mobility issues no matter what weight they're at. everyone's different. someone's weight is their own concern and nobody else's, unless there is medical significance in which case it is between them and their medical team. not every fat person has health issues due to their weight, in fact, most do not. it's okay to let your body be the weight it wants to be

nobody should have to constantly feel like they have to be fighting their own biology just to look "more attractive". people are attractive when they look the most like their real, natural selves. it's way more flattering and it's better for the individual. don't expect other people to go through hell just to look "good". just let people be themselves. let people feel good, and feel good about themselves. worry about yourselves when it comes to appearance

anyway, thank you for the feedback, i really appreciate it! i will always be here for other fat folk because i've gone through many interesting situations with diet and health and my weight always sits around the 300 mark give or take 20 lbs in either direction. my lowest weight as an adult was 260 lbs. my highest was 360. muscle tissue plays a huge factor in this right now for me. i have clothes in my closet that range from literally Small all the way up to XXXL and they all fit me just fine. weight isn't as big of a deal as people think it is, it's a very neutral thing most of the time