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#it's the first time i've changed it in three years......

readychilledwine · 2 days

Note

Batboys as coparents?

Batboy Coparenting Headcanons

Warnings - Azriel girlies aren't going to like this, slightly Harem mentioned, coparenting in general

Rhysand

You met Rhysand at a ball. Your father was one of his father's advisors, and it was love at first sight.

You two courted and married many years before he went under the mountain, leading to the birth of your daughter, Stella.

Stella is Rhysand's world, and when he became trapped, thoughts of her were what caused him to do everything he felt he had to.

He'd burn the world to keep her safe. He knew the mating bond would snap between you two. He just needed to get back to you for it to happen.

His world crashed down on him when it was Feyre instead. Then again, when he came home and a grown female stood where his sweet baby once did.

In his frustration and healing, you two still fucked like rabbits. Leading to yet another babe, one that grew as you watched your husband distant himself as he fell in love with Feyre.

You tried to leave so many times, but you love him, and he does love you. And slowly, so did Feyre.

Coparenting does not exist with Rhysand. Once you give birth, all three of you parent your new son, and in turn, your daughter.

When Feyre is pregnant with Nyx, the expectation is the same.

You three become a very happy throuple, with many, many children involved.

Cassian

I've given a little bit of a preview of this before. Peep Co Parents here

Cassian is the easiest to coparent with

You were a one night stand from a drunken forget Nesta night.

Finding out from Madja that you were pregnant terrified Cassian. He felt he had singlehandedly signed your death certificate

The babe had wings as to be expected, but somehow, you carried her to term and gave birth easily

Cassian struggled for awhile, he wanted it all. He felt he deserved the world.

But you and Nesta did not feel that way. You both wanted to be someone's first choice.

Nesta was obviously his, leading to many days spent with Rhysand being a neutral 3rd party the best he could be.

Obviously, he wanted his niece with them at all times, especially with the recent birth of Nyx, but your role was vital to her survival.

You two settled on you maintaining primary custody until she was weened and eating solid foods, then you would go 50/50 with alternating holidays.

Cassian provides you with child support regardless of that agreement. He gives you enough to get into and cover a lavish loft for both of you and any needs his baby girl has.

Cassian sees paying your rent as ensuring his daughter has a home with you, and taking care of you is just as important to him as taking care of his daughter.

Once you two go to 50/50 and you are able to work more, you insist he stops, but he instead buys off your loft, now allowing his money to focus on his daughter's necessities.

This leads to you giving him and nesta a spare key, letting them know they can come by whenever they'd like.

The relationship between you and Nesta is a blossoming one. The two of you become very close friends, and she comes over for girls' nights one a week and mom's night one a week.

Her pregnancy is an absolute joy for all 4 of you, but Cassian still makes sure he speaks to you and your daughter privately, ensuring you two know this changes nothing. That he is there for the long haul.

Soon, there are no divided holidays. Just all of you as an odd family gathered together to celebrate.

Cassian is the fairytale dream coparent. Nothing can change my mind on that

Azriel

Azriel is the most difficult to coparent with.

You were one of his rebounds after Elain. You are allergic to the contraceptive tonics, and Azriel had been too lazy to take his.

You sighed as the healer in Windhaven told you it wasn't sickness but pregnancy.

You were to be the mother of a bastard's bastard, and the bastard had not even acknowledged your presence since he fucked you in the weapons shed.

You learned soon after his bond with Gwyn had snapped, and you knew instantly that this babe would not be a priority to him.

He ran into you, quite literally, when you were 7 months pregnant. He goes pale as he realizes his scent is lingering heavily on you.

"What are you going to do?"

"You're fucking joking. What the fuck do you think?"

Azriel tries to convince you many times to just give the baby up, and you can't tell if it is because of his guilt or because he is genuinely that uninterested.

Rhysand and Cassian are the ones who approach you, instantly stepping up where their brother is failing.

You give birth to his son, YOUR son, on Starfall, and pick the name Erebus much to Rhysand's glee.

Azriel is in and out of his life and shotty with helping you raise him despite Rhysand moving you to Velaris

You have no relationship with Gwyn and find out Azriel had not even bothered telling until Rhysand showed up one day with his son, shoving the boy into his arms and commanding him to bond with him.

Overall, raising a baby with Azriel is not a great experience, but you have his brothers to stand in his place, and you help you with your son.

#elizabeths.updates #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar x reader headcanons #acotar headcanons

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katerina-marie · 3 days

Text

Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely

Gojo Satoru x Reader & (past) Geto Suguru x Reader

Your relationship with Geto Suguru came to an end somewhere between the day of his betrayal and the day of his death. Your relationship with Gojo Satoru began somewhere in the midst of it all, even without you realizing.

WC: 6.2k

Content: Canon Divergence, Gojo x Female Reader (referred to as such but left descriptively vague), (past) Geto Suguru x Female Reader, Geto's canonical death, friends to lovers, angst, eventual happy ending, fluff later, reader is a sorcerer (left vague tho sorry), SFW (may change in later chapters idk), no use of y/n. More notes below.

Notes:

Product of an angsty Suguru Tik Tok. I have roughly five or so more chapters thought out for this, but that is subject to change as none of it is written yet. Canon events are loosely followed from Hidden Inventory and JJK0, but future events (Shibuya/Kenjaku) will not happen.

I've taken liberties with JJK canon/timeline for this fic. While not explicitly mentioned in the story, reader, Gojo, and Geto are all 20/21 with Nanami and Haibara being a year younger when the hidden inventory arc starts. There would only be 5ish years between HI and JJK0, and then another year or two between JJK0 and present day JJK where Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara are at the school (their ages stay the same and I’m sorry cause I know that wouldn’t fit with the changed timeline, but they will most likely only ever be mentioned through conversation in this story).

------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely (For the Sake of Understanding)

September

“Suguru?”

The dial tone was constant and unyielding, just as it was with the previous four phone calls.

Unanswered. Ignored. Avoided. Did it happen gradually, the pulling away of a boy who sat nestled in every major part of yourself? You could recall your last conversation, only a few days prior, and it was stilted in a way they hadn’t ever been before.

“Suguru?”

His reply was delayed, as if the distance that separated the two of you actually affected how quickly your words reached him. There were currently hundreds, maybe thousands of miles in between each of your current locations on Earth—missions and curses…they never gave consideration to lovers or their quarrels—and for the first time, the distance felt detrimental and significant.

“Hm, yes?”

“I said, ‘I love you,’ and hopefully I’ll be home in three or four days. We’ll spend that evening together, yeah?”

In the silence, all you could think was ‘he’s slipping, he’s slipping, he’s sl — ,’

“Sure, I’ll see you then.”

Had his voice always been so tired and hollow? Had he always felt so distant and uninterested in the words coming out of your mouth? You were used to his rapt attention and soft affirmations in your conversations, always letting you know that he was focused on you. So when, in the last year, had Suguru become a shell of himself? You should have known, and your conscious would tell you that your level of intimacy (‘girlfriend’ felt like such a lackluster term for what you were to him, but your relationship hadn’t progressed further yet to earn you any other title) demanded you be aware of the moment things began to crack and crumble. All you knew was this: that there was the murder of a girl with a purpose that had been determined years prior—whose fate had changed under his watch—along with the brief but insurmountable amount of time that Suguru believed his best friend was also dead.

Gojo Satoru. A close friend he was to you, once maybe out of obligation to your partner in the beginning, but there had been enough time to have built a friendship of your own over the years. Surely, now that you took a second to consider the situation, he would know what to do.

“Satoru,” you mumbled, “I should call, Satoru.”

And yet, the dial tone remained unrelenting. The A/C unit of your hotel room hummed under the bottom edge of smoke-beige curtains, and the muffled slam of a door down the hall caused you to jump from your seat on the edge of the bed. The phone remained tightly clasped in your hand and it pushed just hard enough against your ear that pain began to erupt from where the post of an earring dug into your skin.

“Suguru?”

——————————————

Your phone rang an hour after leaving the hotel room to begin your journey home. It was in the middle of a foreign airport, your clothes were sticking to your skin after the rushed shuffling through security, and Shoko had just told you that Geto Suguru was currently wanted for the murder of 112 people and his subsequent defection from jujutsu society.

“Is he…does anyone know where he is?” The question slipped out quietly as you dropped into a black leather seat and dragged your suitcase in front of you so you could lean your elbows on it. You took a quick glance up at a screen and tried to decide if “Gate 7” was truly flashing in the top right corner or if it were the building tears in your eyes that were starting to blur the number into a different shape entirely.

“No, he hasn’t been located, and he’s not responding to our phone calls either. Not even Gojo’s. Have you—,”

“No.” You let out a wet laugh and the man in the seat next to you cast a long sideways look in your direction before getting up and moving a couple seats away. Did you look so distraught that the idea of possibly spending hours on a plane next to you was so unappealing? Another stare from a woman in the seat across from you and the tear-drop shaped spots appearing on your pants convinced you that you were better off not knowing.

“I’m so sorry,” Shoko began, and for the first time, her voice brought none of the comfort and healing it usually did. “We debated telling you and waiting until you touched down back home, but Gojo figured you’d…”

Shoko trailed off without any other indication of what considerations for your feelings were taken into account during their discussion, and all that you could respond with was a shake of your head and a hushed “no, no.” You couldn’t decide if you were grateful to know immediately of what had transpired instead of being surprised with the news upon arrival home, or if you were appalled at their thought that sitting trapped in a plane with hours to despair at the unbelievability of it all was the better suited alternative.

A flurry of sudden motion and shuffling around you jolted you back into awareness, and you realized with a sudden panic that your plane was beginning to board. Your only connection to what was going on was about to be severed. You stood with the others and began the slow march to line up at the terminal.

“Shoko, I’m about to board my plane but please—,” A sob cut you off, and you knew that you were further from finishing that sentence than you were from the one person you yearned to be beside at that moment. A heavy ache settled in your stomach at the thought. Suddenly, there was a realization that some great reconciliation was to be made in regard to who Suguru was to you before this point and what he would be now and going forth. In no possible scenario did you see yourself emerging totally unscathed.

Shoko was silent for a moment before offering some reassurance you didn’t really hear and then muttered a quick goodbye. Between that minute and the next, you had boarded the plane, stowed away your suitcase, found a seat next to the window, and picked a spot in the sky to stare at lest the environment around you remind you of how trapped you were.

“Suguru?”

——————————————

“Suguru!”

Screaming your boyfriend’s name from across a crowded street wasn’t what you had envisioned when you thought of your return home, even after the news had broken. But time hadn’t let you attempt to catch up before it decided that the person you treasured most in the world was to continue unraveling on a schedule you had no hope of following.

You had barely taken your first steps out of the airport onto paved sidewalks when your phone rang again. The ringtone could only play its first few chimes before you had it up to your ear with a breathless reply already on its way out.

“I found him.”

Shoko sounded neither relieved nor any more worried than she had when the two of you had spoken hours earlier, but you didn’t have a chance to question her further before she set your whole being on edge.

“Suguru confirmed the reports, and I’ve called Satoru already.”

For a split second, dread filled your limbs and you stumbled in your step that took you from a standstill to a sprint. Why did the thought of Satoru confronting your boyfriend offer anything other than utter relief?

“Where are you? Shoko, please tell me where you are, and I’ll be right there!”

‘Right there’ had you struggling against the hold Shoko had on your shoulders as you watched from a distance as Suguru and Satoru stood opposite each other. People weaved in and around the two, unaware of the danger, the devastation, of the complete dismantling that was occurring just beside them.

“Suguru! Suguru, Suguru, Suguru!” Your screaming seemed to have no effect on him, and you would have lied and told yourself that he just couldn’t hear you, but the disdainful stares of the oblivious people all around kept you from denial.

Suguru remained placid as he stood and took the brunt of both yours and Satoru's desperate calls to bring him back. He looked so much like the boy you had fallen in love with, but then again not at all the same. His hair was different. Half of it laid unbound against his neck, though the piece that framed the left side of his face still hid the corner of his eye. You stared at him, and you weren’t sure if you were trying to commit every inch of him to your memory or simply beseeching him to spare just a glance in your direction. Had his cheeks always been so gaunt? Did the delicate skin under his eyes always bruise purple like they were now? What else had been missed in the last year that could be counted and added to this moment?

Before you could damn yourself further for missing the signs of Suguru’s slow deterioration, the raising of Satoru’s arm had your whole existence narrowing until it was just the two of them in frame. The sound of your heartbeat thudding in your ears faded. The warm feeling of panic that had started in your chest, radiated down your arms, and made your fingers feel numb blended in with the shuddering of Shoko’s chest against your back. All the background noise—the clack of dress shoes on concrete, the whir of car engines flying by that also shuttered the view in front of you, to the incessant wailing of your boyfriend’s name—suddenly ceased as two of Gojo Satoru’s fingers began to close in on one another.

“Satoru!”

One day, Gojo Satoru would be brave enough to remember what it felt like to hear you lament his name. He could recall fondly and effortlessly how his name and the one of his best friend could slip so seamlessly, interchangeably, from your lips. But now, when he swore you were moving your mouth though nothing else but his name came out, it would haunt him in his dreams, his memories, and everything in between.

“Satoru!” Urging, demanding, and shrill.

Do it, do it, do it.

“Satoru!” Pleading, shrieking, and broken.

Please, don’t do it. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.

Satoru’s fingers remained a hairsbreadth apart, and Suguru’s back turned as he walked away with nothing more than an unaffected wave over his shoulder. Shoko still trembled, Satoru’s face crumpled, and your heart and mind had broken into pieces that scattered far beyond your reach.

All the while, there would be a day upcoming when all of this would have to be condensed into something that was capable of being understood.

Today was not that day.

——————————————

December 24, Years Later

Did your footsteps have to echo what your heart was chanting?

Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

Your walk to the communal lounge of the Jujutsu High-Tokyo campus was different, in some ways, from usual. Familiar stone scraped at the bottom of your shoes. Acrid smoke still hung in the air, and pieces of wood and rock falling to the ground could be heard echoing from where buildings and walls were left in ruin. The fading orange of a winter sunset was dipping below the remaining trees, leaving behind a night that was dark and dreadful and devastated.

Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

And then you were here, at the door you had to open and walk through before any number of questions you had could be answered. With a deep inhale, you took your first step forward to pass over the threshold and the room that was full of people, though couldn’t be considered noisy, went silent.

Principal Yaga stood in a corner to the right with a cell phone at his ear. Nanami sat at a table with his spotted tie loosened around his neck and his suit jacket thrown over the back of his chair in an uncommon show of haggard exhaustion. Behind him, Shoko was washing her hands in a sink where the water swirled with something pink. You jerked your head to the left to avoid having to process the sight further, but what you looked upon instead didn’t spare you any relief.

The underclassmen, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki, hovered around a loveseat where Okkotsu sat slumped with his head in his hands. All four of them were covered in varying degrees of debris, bandages, and scant traces of blood. It made you feel a little better to think that’s all Shoko had been washing off in the sink.

What didn’t help ease the knots in your stomach was the way Okkotsu never raised his head to acknowledge the entrance of your presence—a contradiction to his normal deferential behavior—but also how the rest of the eyes in the room all looked at you with varying degrees of emotion. None were malicious, but unnerving nonetheless.

Pity, unsureness, sorrow, regret, and condolence—,

Your sharp inhale was enough to make a person or two flinch, but no one else moved and you were left to contemplate whether fleeing to solitary misery would hurt less than receiving answers about what had happened tonight.

Before you could decide what to do, the door to the back of the lounge slid open and Satoru stepped inside. His bandages around his eyes were off, and he was looking at you in a way he never had until now. How you were supposed to interpret that look and what it could even mean…well, you didn’t have the slightest clue, and that would be the final blow to your being.

You had already lurched back to reach for the door when Satoru called your name, and you were slow to turn around to face him. When you did, he used his head to nod to the garden through the door of the lounge in a bid to get you to follow him before exiting the room the same way he came. You took a deep breath and gave a helpless search around the room before following after him into the night. Someone had the grace to close the door behind you.

The two of you walked a few steps into the garden, and while it did nothing to ease the turmoil you were feeling, the vastness of the night sky and coolness of the air was preferable to the atmosphere in the lounge you were just in. When you and Satoru finally came to a halt, you weren’t close enough to touch, but if you tried, your fingertips would just miss the fabric of his uniform. You waited for him to speak, swallowing once, twice, a third time to try and clear the tension out of your throat. Your hands began to tremble, and a stinging burn rushed up through your nose to prick at the corners of your eyes.

With only a whisper of clothing as a warning, Satoru’s hand reached out to cup the back of your neck and draw you into his shoulder, his arms capable of closing the distance between you without requiring him to step nearer. His other hand settled between your shoulder blades while yours loosely gripped the fabric at his ribcage. The embrace only lasted another second before he was pulling away with a gentle squeeze around your arms and letting his own drop to his sides.

“You’re aware of what led up to all this tonight, correct?” Satoru asked, gesturing vaguely to the campus surrounding you both. There was no preamble from him and you watched as his eyes flicked between yours.

“Yes,” you nodded, “I was there in the city with everyone, Satoru. I saw you leave, and once everything finished I stayed after to check on everyone from Kyoto before coming back here.” You let your eyes wander around over Satoru’s shoulder, and you could just faintly make out a persisting plume of smoke in the distance.

“He was here,” you continued, no more asking him a question than you were stating what you already knew, “and this was him?” Even though it was meek, your voice didn’t crack.

Satoru hummed out an affirmation, not needing to clarify what you said in order for him to know that you were referring to the damaged state of the school as a result of Suguru’s presence.

“Alright,” you started, firm and as prepared as you could make yourself in this moment, “where is he?”

Satoru carried on without acknowledging the question you asked. “Some of the damage is from him fighting Maki, Panda, and Inumaki, but most of it is from his fight with Okkostu and Rika after the others became too injured. I arrived just at the end.”

It was here that you started to feel like you were listening to his words from somewhere outside your body. There was an outcome that you were waiting to learn of, and you knew you either needed to ask a question or make some kind of noise or movement to prompt him to go forward. But really, your head felt like it was full of static and you couldn’t begin to piece the words together to make them sound even remotely coherent.

The end, the end, the end, the e–,

“The end?” You asked on an exhale, stunned when you saw Satoru’s chin quiver just once. You realized then that you hadn’t ever really taken the time to study the world’s strongest sorcerer. Did the blue of his eyes always reflect even the dimmest of light, or was there something else that caused them to swim as they did now? He stood rigid, but then again Satoru always held himself up to his full height, unbothered by the weight that sat on his shoulders and unencumbered by the threat of a physical blow. Maybe now that you could notice, as you saw how his head hung slightly and weariness lowered his stature, it was apparent that the time Satoru spent constantly guarding his person never allowed for the same courtesy to his mind. You wondered if the vulnerability of it, of how he sacrificed himself to the heavy weight of emotional torment, was what eventually managed to dim the spirit of the person in front of you right now.

“Suguru’s dead. ”

One day, you’d look back and wonder if you already knew what was going to come out of Satoru’s mouth. The news had the ground beneath your feet tilting in different directions in a way that threatened the contents of your stomach, and it did expel the air from your lungs in a pained-sounding moan. But it didn’t send the electrical current of shock through your body that you were waiting for. You’d suspect that you were aware of it from the moment you set foot on campus, that the tension in the air and the stiffness of everyone in the lounge had been direct indicators that the worst had occurred. Perhaps you knew, but needed Satoru to deliver that blow in order for it to land.

You struggled to find a way to think past the roaring in your ears, so you tangled your fingers together in order to dig your nails into the skin on the backs of your hands. When the pain didn’t register and the blood welling up underneath them didn’t scare you into looking away, you fixed your gaze up on Satoru’s eyes in a desperate attempt to pull yourself out from inside yourself. They were wide in concerned alarm from whatever he saw on your face.

“God, so…,” you heaved a breath and closed your eyes to try and focus on getting your thoughts into something more than garbled syllables, “so that’s why Okkotsu looks the way he does…in there? He, uhm, he ki—,”

“No.” Satoru pulled his bottom lip under his teeth and rolled his head back to look up at the sky before returning back to you. Did he feel the same trepidation that snaked under your skin and knocked at your chest? Did your eyes reflect back to him the pleading that was going on in your head? To who, though? Certainly, the time for bargaining was long past. “No, Okkotsu didn’t kill Suguru. He wounded him…badly. But Suguru was able to retreat in the haze of the smoke and I…he…”

He what? Suguru? Okkotsu? If allowed, the endless possibilities of “what if” would steal whatever peace remained from you, and if closure wasn’t something granted to you, you would respond in kind.

“What, Satoru? He what? You have to be clearer. You have to tell me, for the sake of my own understanding.”

The sliding of the lounge door caught your attention and interrupted whatever Satoru was going to say next. You glanced over, watching as Nanami stepped out from around the door, shut it, and leaned back against it with his arms crossed over his chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Satoru giving him the faintest nod and you wondered if he had asked him to come out here. The reason wasn’t quite clear to you yet, but you stared at him, trying to figure out what part the blonde-haired sorcerer was about to play in all of this.

Ever present Nanami, stoic as he was strong, but soft spoken and never cruel for cruelty’s sake. Always maintained rigid self control and composure, even in the face of his best friend’s death. He was steady and stable, easily beat against but never yielded, made to never move under such intense pressure.

The thought had you turning back to Satoru, perplexed about what Nanami’s presence might be implying. What was about to come out of Gojo Satoru’s mouth that made him think he wouldn’t be enough for you? Or—in an even worse consideration—that he was about to become too much for you.

“I found Suguru after his fight with Okkotsu in some obscure corner of campus,” Satoru whispered, and you dared not move or breathe as you waited for his next words. “I found him…and I killed him.”

You had to hold a hand up to your chest, right between your breasts and over your heart as it began to rise and fall with the rapidness of your breaths, if only to ensure that it kept beating as every second ticked past the next. You felt your mouth drop open, felt your throat vibrate with some wounded noise, and watched as Satoru held out his hand to you, immense regret tightening his features, along with glistening tears clinging to the tips of his eyelashes. What hurt more though was the memory of Satoru’s arm reaching out like it did now, some years ago on the day Suguru left, his fingers trembling as they inched towards each other in his best friend's direction. You wondered—painfully, regrettably—if that’s what Suguru saw too right before it all went dark, and the sight of it was enough to send you staggering backwards. Someone caught you with large hands curling around the tops of your shoulders and—,

Oh, that’s what Nanami was for.

Taking advantage of your friend behind you, you wilted backwards against Nanami’s chest and sobbed, neither of you unnerved by the ugly gasping of it. The hand that wasn’t still clutched against your body in the hopes of keeping yourself sealed shut shot up to grasp at Nanami’s forearm in an effort to abate the buckling of your knees. Because in front of you, the honored one stood a few feet away from you with eyes made empty and full of loss, and you struggled to reconcile which one of you were owed more the space to fall apart. Perhaps it was you both, as grief in situations like this happened to be a great equalizer, and you considered, as your friend stared at you with pained hopelessness, that maybe—certainly—Satoru was entitled to his own moment of sorrow in front of you. The thought lent sturdiness to your stance and you pushed forward off Nanami and used the momentum to propel yourself into Satoru. You worried briefly that maybe the two of you wouldn’t make contact, that he wouldn’t allow you into the space of him, but your arms landed around his neck, your chest met his, and his hands pushed you past any remaining distance.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaking and hands hovering infinitesimally over your hips before they settled against you. All you could do was shake your head against his shoulder. There was no question about how equally wounded Satoru was. Where you now mourned the forever plans that once existed in the bright eyes and easy laugh of a man since gone, Satoru had the honor of shouldering the burden of knowing he was the one who snuffed those plans out, though the fault could be no more placed on him than it could you. Did he wonder as he waited for you, whether you would blame him for the duty in which he owed the world protection from people like Suguru? Where he would always be the one to know what it was like to take away the life of his best friend, did he worry about how you would look at him once you knew? Did you confirm his fear when you fell away from him? For a time, did Satoru bemoan the physical loss of Suguru and wonder if he would have to do the same for you when you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes anymore? Satoru might have been the one who made you something akin to a widow, but Suguru’s choices and decisions were what put the two of you here, who really held responsibility for the damage inflicted on the two people he had valued most.

You squeezed Satoru a little tighter and then tilted back some so you could peer into his face.

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, shaking your head at him when he opened his mouth to protest, “at least not to me.” A weak smile pulled at your lips as you did your best to reassure him and the spasming of his grip at your waist. You didn’t have the energy to explain to him the depths of emotion that swirled around in your head. How you didn’t blame him, but regretted the situation Suguru thrust the two of you in. How you would never leave him to carry this alone, but that you would need time before looking at him didn’t make your heart throb with painful memory and imagination. Or how the two of you would be forever connected by the loss of someone so important to each of you in vastly different ways, but that you wanted nothing more than to flee from his presence now.

So you moved away from him, trailing a hand down his arm because you could and because you didn’t know what else to do for him. You kept stepping back, already turning to retreat back the way you came and ready to seek solace in the privacy of your room. To do what, you weren’t sure. To cry, you guessed. To distract yourself enough that you didn’t replay every single second of the last few years over and over in your head so you could pick every word and touch between you and Suguru apart. Whether that was for the sake of your own memory or to try and figure out that which couldn’t be solved was unbeknownst to you. In the depths of your grief, maybe you would wonder what the last moments were like for Suguru. Did he think of you? Consider what he had done to you and to Satoru? What were the last words to come out his mouth? Were they for you or for—,

You whirled around from your spot halfway back to the lounge door and caught sight of Nanami placing a heavy hand on Satoru’s shoulder.

“Did Suguru say anything to you?” Your voice carried out clearly on the emptiness of the night, but Satoru didn’t turn in your direction, nor did he hardly move. “Did he…did he have anything for you to tell me?”

Satoru was still until he eventually twisted his head towards you just enough so he could look at you from the corner of his eye. They were guarded, maybe the slightest bit afraid, and you held your breath in anticipation.

“No.”

You deflated and were unsure how to feel about his answer. You had hoped, thought, that maybe having Suguru’s last words for you would bring about some relief for the burning heartache that had started at some point in the last hour—the last couple of years—but you had also been hesitant to receive one more thing to occupy the scant emotional bandwidth you had left for everything that Suguru was. It would be one more thing to keep you up at night. On the other hand, the fact that your lover had left the world with nought an expressed thought or word for your condition left a blistering bitterness to swell within you. Insignificant were you not, but maybe to Suguru, in his last moments on Earth, you were to him. And that thought was enough to tip you into the realm of excess, surefly filled and overflowing with enough contemplating and pondering and general overthinking to last the rest of your life.

So you turned away from Satoru and Nanami and walked back through an empty lounge and out the door from which you came earlier in the evening. The night was still dark and devastated but relatively silent, the noise of utter ruin having mostly ceased. But your shoes still scuffed against stone and tiny pebbles skittered away from under feet, skipping and tumbling with every step you took.

Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

——————————————

“You were lying.”

Nanami’s tone was no more judgemental than it was inquisitive, but nothing about him seemed to press Satoru for answers that he wasn’t yet ready to give—or understood himself. He did lie. He wouldn’t deny that. But under no circumstances was he prepared to tell you what his best friend, your other half, had told him in the minutes before his death. They replayed tortuously in his head as he tried to make sense of it all. Satoru would have to speak them to you one day, and the fear of doing so brought the same panicked apprehension he had felt as he watched you try and hold yourself together as he had told you about Suguru’s death. As he waited for you, he had imagined every which way your face could have pinched and drawn up in enraged despair as you threw yourself against him to beat as his chest, to wail in his arms as you cursed his existence before finally retreating in a similar fashion as how you did just moments ago, but perhaps with less acceptance and a goodbye that would prove final in its anger. You hadn’t reacted that way, of course. You had fallen against him in sorrow and with a barely concealed need for comfort as much as you were ready to give it to him, and he had been filled with desperate relief at the feeling of you and how you hadn’t shied away from him. But maybe that was to come later one day, after Satoru spent time considering what was said and implied by Suguru’s words, and felt brave enough to share them with you. Surely then you wouldn’t have the same patience for him as you did tonight.

“I was.” That was all he said back to Nanami, refusing to elaborate on the specifics of something he owed to you and couldn’t yet come to terms with himself. Thankfully, Nanami simply nodded and glanced in the direction of your departure.

“I’ll check on her in the morning,” he offered, betraying no emotion or thought to the idea, but Satoru had a feeling it had something to do with how you had done the same for Nanami when, a few years ago, death had come for Jujutsu High and taken Haibara with it. Neither man said anything else as they departed, Nanami heading your direction towards staff lodging and Satoru leaving to walk aimlessly along crumbling corridors. His head spun, and he remembered.

Satoru had heard Suguru before he came upon him, dragging his shoulder against stone walls and mumbling nonsense to himself until it came to an abrupt halt as he spotted Satoru a ways in front of him. It was painful to take in the sight of his best friend, covered in blood and viciously mangled, but looking so achingly familiar. But the ensuing conversation, a mindless back and forth of words that meant much and nothing at all proved that the person in front of him wasn’t the same as he remembered.

“Tell me, do you have any last words?” Satoru had asked, a simple opportunity given to the man sitting in front of him, yet he cursed the universe for his lot in life, the unfairness of it all bittering the taste of his mouth and landing heavy in his chest as Suguru spoke back to him.

“She's yours now, it would seem.”

Satoru couldn’t ever say he had been rendered speechless before, but he choked on his own spit as he recoiled from Suguru’s words. He grit his teeth as he felt his face scrunch in anguished rage.

“God, Suguru! You can’t just—that’s not something you—!” What came out in a fit of bewilderment was followed by more jumbled sputtering before Satoru could mind his tongue again. “You don’t just say that! You can’t pass ownership of her like an object. Not like this, not ever!”

Suguru just chuckled, out of breath and clearly fading, and leaned his head back against the wall. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“It does!” Satoru shouted, panic and desperation lacing his tone,“She doesn’t want me! She would want you to come back, to make amends and live your entire life trying to repair what you broke. You don’t get to decide our future for us!”

“Consider it a dying wish,” Suguru said calmly, and Satoru wondered if anything else someone could ever say would hurt as badly as that (a picture of you flashed unbidden in his mind).

“She would rather have you—I would rather have you!”

“You haven’t exactly said ‘no’, Satoru.”

His words pinned him in place and Satoru was stunned into silence. His friend’s dying delusions were no better for his psyche than considering what Suguru implied would mean for him. Satoru had never let himself think so far, to entertain a thought about his best friend’s girlfriend in any other way except strictly platonic. Sure, no one could ignore your beauty, and a couple times Satoru had silently envied what Suguru had and he did not—intimate companionship, physical comfort and pleasure, and the eagerness for a future with someone, all that could be had with a friend but on levels not belonging to such a term. However longed for, it was never with you strictly imagined, just a simple yearning for something of his own.

“No,” Satoru managed, “not like this. Not without her consent, and certainly not in place of you being alive.”

Suguru made a motion similar to a shrug, or what one would look like if half of his shoulder wasn’t missing. “If you insist.”

“Do you not have anything to say to her? To leave her with?” Satoru beseeched on your behalf, hoping Suguru would tell him anything else to pass on to you other than his attempt to give you to him. Satoru would get his last words with Suguru, and it was all the same too much and not enough. He wondered if you would feel the same.

“What’s there to say?” Suguru said, his voice light, as if the discussion was more about the weather or something else equally mundane. “‘I’m sorry’ seems pointless without action behind it, and there will be none. ‘I love you’ is nothing she hasn’t heard before, and I would call into question the truthfulness of those words in light of my actions if I were her.” It was then that Satoru finally spotted a hint of regret and sorrow on Suguru’s face, but it disappeared only a moment later. “She would not want me as I am now, and there is no going back. The damage resulting from my choices is something the two of you will wrestle with, both individually and together, I suppose. Hence, why I said what I did.”

Satoru would laugh at the absurdity of it all if it didn’t pain him so badly. Instead, he walked towards Suguru and dropped into a crouch to get eye-level with his friend. His head lolled toward him.

“Damn you for that, Suguru,” he said, “but you’ll always be my best friend.”

Shock fluttered over Suguru’s face before amusement wrinkled his eyes and a tired laugh shook his body. His eyes slid shut and as Satoru stood and willed his arm to move, he desperately wished he could be anywhere else.

-----------------------------------

I hope I didn't ramble too much and that this made sense! The next chapters shouldn't be as thought/monologue heavy. I can't promise an update timeline, but I will do my best to not take too long. I am writing in the breaks between chasing my toddler around, so patience is appreciated:)

Cross-posted on ao3 as well.

Thanks!

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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up-in-flames-writing · 11 hours

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I feel like we never talk about how hard it is to be a trans immigrant. We never talk about how escaping from a country that persecutes you does not free you from suffering & bigotry.

I may not be able to attend my own graduation ceremony. I worked so hard these past three years to achieve something, to be the first person in my immediate family to finish uni, get a degree, & then be able to actually do something with it, to pick my own life course & not stray from it. I reinvented myself during these last three years so much, from the shy, dysphoric kid with no friends to a man who maybe isn't doing the best in life, but who has a hope for the future. I worked hard to present myself in the best way I could, & yet I won't be able to see the fruits of my labours.

And, sure, the reason is real silly. I can't legally change my name, so the name on the degree will be my dead one, & the Vice Chancellor will read out the corpse of my old self in front of all my teachers & peers, everyone who knew me as Booker, & Booker alone. And they will expect to see a young lady in a dress climb the stage, only to be met with a boy who isn't quite a man yet, who is still forced to live under a girl's name.

And why? Why! Because I am an immigrant who feared for my young life when Brexit was happening, who has been teased & bullied for being an ESL student, who never quite belonged. Because I am an immigrant transman who could be imprisoned in my country of birth for the crime of wanting to reinvent myself, who has to walk on eggshells around the man who reared me because he grew up Polish & catholic & who knows how he would react if I told him I was his grandson & not his granddaughter. I am an immigrant who has to hide behind their parents because who knows how my extended family will react to me, who is still not allowed to tell his cousin, his little sister whom he adores, his real name despite the fact I was her age when I started questioning my own gender & I somehow wasn't too young to be in pain!

I am an immigrant who cannot safely return home, but the country that took me in isn't quite the safe haven either. Because I need a passport to prove that my name has changed, but a passport cannot be issued to me under a name my birth country does not approve of. Because to change myself fully, I need to become a citizen to a country that abandoned my homeland after the war & looked away when it was being subjugated during it. Because I need to know how many of the swans in London belong to the Crown for the state to consider me a citizen of this dying empire, despite the fact I've lived here for so long, I can't remember what my childhood home back in Poland even looked like! I cannot truly remember what my room in that flat in a small, backwater Polish town looked like anymore, except for the bed that we now have in our guest bedroom, & the bookshelf that cradles all of my books on transness & queerness & feminism.

Because I am an immigrant from a country who hates me, I am forced to live in a country that hardly tolerates me, & to live as my true self I have to subjugate myself for the sake of an old empire that lost its touch. I have to submit myself to a personal sort of colonisation, to be able to walk onto that stage at graduation with my real name on the degree. But I can't do that, because I don't have the money, because I spent the last three years breaking my back proving to people that the little girl with behavioural problems who was always bullied, was able to become something greater than the sum of her parts. Because I now don't have the time or the patience to tell you exactly when the Union Jack was created, or at what hour of the day is tea time, & I don't have the time to wait for a passport to be sent to me, only for me to return it to sender with a plea of changing my name upon it.

Because my transmacs friends in college had their names changed at sixteen, while I'm already done with my undergrad & still have to contend with the question of what citizenship I would rather have. Because I will sooner be on hormones & growing a beard than I will be able to change my name.

And in all this I find it so ironic that I was named after an angel, & like everything else in my life, I reject the goodness & the easy way out, I reject the things that once made me, me, to become my own god & rebuild myself out of the scraps left behind by a life of turmoil.

And still I am just some immigrant bitch stealing jobs from good, hardworking Britons, & I'm still just a transsexual fag taking women's rights away, & I'm still just some freak of nature manipulating the kids into sin & immorality. And no matter where I go, where I turn to, I don't feel all that angelic at all.

#booker speaks #booker writes #transgender #transmasc #transandrophobia #transphobia #immigrants #xenophobia

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mirpuzzle · 2 days

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I've been really curious about this, who are your top ten Yu-Gi-Oh characters?

Hello! 🌷 Usually, I only have a few favorites. So, aside from the first three, the rest is constantly changing. I'll try to put them in order (all under the cut).

♡. 10 ── Carly Nagisa (5Ds)

What's not to love about her? She's funny, pretty, and a complete mess of a person. She gets in all sorts of trouble, all because she's trying to make a living. I like it when she gets screen time.

♡. 9 ── Noa Kaiba (DM)

He was my favorite as a kid, so I still have a special place in my heart for him. His story made me cry. He did not deserve that. He only wanted others to understand him. You're valid, Noa.

♡. 8 ── Yusei Fudo (5Ds)

It's rare for me to favor a protagonist. That's how you know he's good. This man is a blessing to Yugioh. He has a natural charisma that's impossible to ignore. He's perfect.

♡. 7 ── Bandit Keith (DM)

...I think. I have mixed feelings toward him. I don't even know why he's on this list. I keep going to him in games where Kotsuzuka is not there. So, that must mean I like him, right? I'm confused.

Cross Duel showed me he can be really nice to you if you help him win. I appreciate how he helps other duelists fortify their decks, using the themes they originally had instead of giving them a completely new deck. He cares.

While there's no excuse for what he did to Kotsuzuka and the boys, the fact that, behind that 'bad guy' front, there's a sad, broken man makes me feel bad for him. He deserves to heal.

♡. 6 ── Ryou Bakura (DM)

The anime doesn't do him justice. The more I learn about him through other fans and Duel Links, the more I like him. He's a precious cream puff who likes spooky stuff and is treated terribly by almost everyone. He deserves better (friends).

♡. 5 ── Divine (5Ds)

This man is terrible in every way, and that's the point. I hate that his character was designed to be hated. He gets no backstory, no redemption arc, no nothing. I pity him. He's the worst. I love this guy.

♡. 4 ── Thief King Bakura (DM)

PLEASE give this guy a break. He has gone through enough.

♡. 3 ── Kiyoshi Takaido & Satake (DM)

They share third place because I can't have one without the other. I automatically started loving them because they're close friends with Kotsuzuka. I like that they care about him. These guys have so much potential to explore, and it's a shame we see so little of them.

They're not 'Keith's lackeys'. They're duelists in their own right. They have ambitions and aspirations. They just didn't get to be in the spotlight.

♡. 2 ── Yami Bakura (DM)

Sometimes switches places with Takaido and Satake but usually stays in second place. He's wickedly perfect. From his gorgeous design to how he pretends everything is part of his plan, even though he's literally dissipating into nothingness. And he has the nerve to make empty threats that he never carries out.

There's something beautiful about this ancient evil spirit dedicating his existence to fulfill his objective - all while showing us that he can enjoy normal human activities, like playing games. The complexity of his character captivates me. You can study him for hours, and it will still take you a while to figure him out due to his confusing lore.

The way he makes others suffer causes me to have mixed feelings. Sure, I love angst. I just wish there were some feelings involved.

Seeing him make enemies with almost everyone he crosses paths with makes me think he wants to keep everyone away, and that's sad. I want him to care about someone other than himself. I want someone to care about him.

♡. 1 ── Ghost Kotsuzuka (DM)

Yes, that one guy who's known for using Zombie-Type monsters. That short, spooky 15-year-old who walks around hunched over pretending to be a ghost, not realizing he's too cute to be scary. That naive boy who trusted the wrong person and then was unlucky enough to cross paths with the main antagonist. He's my favorite.

I love him. The way his eyes light up when he talks about the things he likes is adorable. I could listen to him gush about ghosts for hours.

His character tends to be frustratingly misinterpreted and overlooked. It's sad that some people think of him as nothing more than collateral damage to Yami Bakura's 'mischief'. He deserves better than that.

When you see past his 'side antagonist' role, you realize he's a precious little guy who's trying his best. Behind that ghostly, mischievous smile, there's a lost youth looking for guidance from a 'big bro' figure he can look up to, whether he realizes this or not.

Despite the differences in his characterization between the manga, anime, and games, one thing remains consistent. He grows into someone who wants to prove he can duel by himself.

But what does he get? Nothing but pain. Betrayed, deceived, ending up dead or lost in the darkness, condemned in almost every canon, with only his sentient Duel Links data to remember him by.

He only wanted to duel.

---------------------ꕥ

I'll stop here. Otherwise, I'll be talking about Kotsuzuka for hours. Thank you so much for the ask! ♡ Sorry that it took a while. I was struggling to organize what I wanted to say for some of the characters, and I wanted to add some art :3

Keep in mind that I've only seen Duel Monsters and the first half of 5Ds, so there are many characters I don't know yet.

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aflamboyanceofflamingos · 22 hours

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So I've been dealing with a really bad fever for the last few days, and apparently i had written something i have no recollection of writing so here it is:

~~~~~~~

Tim had dug himself into a hole.

To anyone that knew him, that fact wouldn't be too surprising. Tim had always been a very capable individual, but every now and then he became too in love with how capable he was and he would trip over his own ego. Usually the boy could get out of the messes he created, the sudden humbling giving him a clear head, but this time, he didn't think he could climb his way out on his own.

The first shovel of dirt of this metaphorical hole came over 4 years ago, lining up with the first shovel of dirt of a literal hole.

Jason Todd had died. Robin had died.

Batman was in shambles.

And 13 year old Tim Drake thought that because of the knowledge he had, it was his responsibility to fix him.

Batman needed a Robin, and despite what Nightwing had implied, Tim was nowhere near cool enough to be Robin.

So what would make Batman get his own sidekick? If his enemies had one! Batman would be forced to find someone else to deal with the sidekick while he dealt with the actual Rouge.

The Joker was obviously out. Beyond the fact that the Joker was horrible, Tim may be joining up with a villain but that didn’t mean he wanted Batman to hate him.

That meant he needed to find someone Batman didn’t enact a lot of violence on. That got rid of the Scarecrow and the various crime bosses (Black Mask, the Penguin, etc.). Bruce had been close to Harvey Dent, but a 50% chance of death was a percentage that was just a little too high for Tim (oh how that would change). Most of the lower tier Rouges (Kite Man, Mad Hatter, etc.) had gone under after the got wind of Batman's fury, not to mention that Tim really didn't want to spend his days smelling like ketchup. Poison Ivy and Killer Croc were cool, but their skills weren't exactly ones Tim could replicate.

That left Mr. Freeze, Catwoman, Harley Quinn, and the Riddler.

The Mr. Freeze was more gentle with kids, their “villiainly” being based on the actions of adults, and the latter three were in it for their own interests rather than the purpose of killing or invoking fear, Catowman wanted shiny things, Harley wanted chaos and fun, and while the Riddler didn't share the same soft spot for kids, he respected intelligence.

Tim chose Catwoman; the least lethal, and the closest with Batman. The skills she could teach him would also be more helpful in other situations.

It took about a week from the day he knocked on Selina Kyle's door to convince her to train him, but soon enough, a couple days before his 14th birthday and a few more calls to 911 about petty thieves left in the wake of Batman’s grief then Tim would have liked, “Stray” entered the scene.

And his plan was working!

The first time Batman had seen the second pair of cat ears he had paused mid ass-kicking of a carjacker and followed the duo, leaving the guy with more teeth then the others.

Slowly but surely, as time went on, the punishments the Batman inflicted started to fit the crime. By the time Tim was 15, he even thought he had seen a small upturn at the corner of Bruce’s mouth as he witnessed a bit of friendly banter between the two cats!

This was when the young villain had started to become a tad bit overconfident. In his defense, he had managed to keep his identity hidden from even Oracle! Lifts in his shoes, a voice modulator, make-up to disguise his facial features, along with a set of the same goggles Catwoman had kept and physical information from being revealed, and Tim Drake never interacted with Selina Kyle so there was no reason that anyone should have suspected him.

That overconfidence is what led him to replicate his plan. If one Rouge sidekick had benefits, then two Rouge sidekicks would mean double the benefits!

Solving riddles wasn’t too hard for the young boy, being able to see double meaning and red herrings was a skill taught to him by Janet Drake, and he took to the escape-room-esque plans for his heists quite easily. The thing he couldn’t figure out was creating riddles of his own. Mother had taught him that knowledge was power, you only reveal it if there was something to be gained, so purposely revealing information about his intention, helping his opponent was not something Tim was accustomed to, not bound to the compulsion to always tell the truth.

If the boy truly wanted to replicate the Riddler, then he would have to learn from the man himself.

Convincing the enigmatic man to teach Tim was easier than it had been with Catowman, the impressive display of bypassing the puzzles that hid the location of the game-playing criminal certainly helping.

Now, 15 years old with an unexplained skill boost in his AP Lang class (the lessons on wordplay were a definite help), The Riddler’s protege, ‘The Puzzler’ became the newest addition to the Gotham Rogues. He resented that name by the way. It was supposed to be Sibyl or Sphinx, they were on theme because they spoke in riddles and though he would deny it, the use of greek figures were his own little way of mocking Oracle, who still couldn’t figure out his identity. But apparently Poison Ivy and the Riddler had brunch once a month (something about being the green Rouges?) and she had heard the Riddler refer to him as “the little puzzle piece” when he was talking about his apprentice and the puzzle theme stuck despite how uncreative the name was.

This is when things became a bit hectic. Not only did Tim have to hide his nightlife from Batman and his parents, now he had to keep his two mentors from realizing that their mentees were the same person.

He managed to convince Selina that the reason he was so busy lately was the AP classes that came with sophomore year, and while it wasn’t a lie, it certainly wasn’t the full story.

Nygma was easier to deceive. Tim had refrained from sharing his actual identity with the man (just because he would tell the truth in his puzzles for the sake of theme didn’t mean that he would be sharing personal information if it wasn’t needed. The only reason he hadn't hid it from Selina was to gain her trust, something that wasn’t needed with the Riddler) so just saying that he was busy was enough.

All the effort was worth it though. Things kept getting better.

Nightwing was seen in Gotham more often, and Spoiler (someone who Tim initially thought was trying to steal his thing by being a sidekick of the Cluemaster, only to realize she was working against him) had been seen fighting alongside the Batman one or twice.

On an unrelated note, Stephiane Brown suddenly had her tuition for Gotham Academy paid for in full by the newly created Jason Todd Foundation.

Since things were going so well, he decided to push his luck a little further.

Unfortunately for Tim, he would soon realize the reason he was known for his bad luck in the future.

It started off like other times. Tim convinced Harley Quinn to take him under her wing, and “Ace” made their debut along with Tim’s 5 in AP Psych (Thank you Dr. Quinzel).

Steph and Tim happened to share a few classes together, and went from study buddies (Tim helping her in Chem, and Steph helping him in American History) to close friends.

Spoiler officially joined the Bats, and there were rumors of another bat joining the clan as well. Well there were no actual rumors, but the newest Wayne kid, Cassandra, had started joining him and Steph at their lunch table so her becoming a new bat wouldn’t be too surprising.

Soon enough though, things went to shit.

To start off, the first time Spoiler met Ace, she threw a brick at his head.

Second, His parents had caught him sneaking out and had grounded him, meaning that he now had to wait until they did their last check on his room at 12:00 to sneak out.

The lack of sleep was starting to catch up to the highschooler. Handling 3 separate nightlife identities was hard enough, but doing so while exhausted was even harder.

After pulling an all nighter to study for a test the night before, he had gone to Selina’s apartment dressed as Ace, and had both costumes not been mostly black he would have been undoubtedly caught before he managed to fix his mistake.

Puzzler once spent a whole night sounding like Stray, and he didn’t think that his “sore throat” lie was all that believable.

Tim accidentally made a cat pun instead of a bat one when engaging in vaguely flirty banter with Spoiler as Ace and Harley had set him down to have the talk, stating that she would love him no matter who he liked and she would be happy to serve as a wingman for him and Catwoman’s protege. It would be funny if it wasn’t so embarrassing.

Third, Cassandra Wayne definitely knew something.

Tim’s “rumors” were right. 2 weeks after Cass had first joined their table Black Bat made herself known. By pinning Puzzler to the ground.

The next day Cass spent the entire lunch period staring at Tim. When he attempted to throw her off by invoking a mix of Stray and Ace’s mannerisms she stopped staring, instead choosing to freak Tim out more by smiling knowingly. At his wide eyes she mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key only throwing Tim off further. Cass was too smart to not have known, but there was no reason she wouldn’t tell if she did know, right?

Last, but not least, and the worst of all:

Jason Todd was alive.

~~~~~~~

I have no clue where i was going with that last line, but i see a vision, so I'm hoping it will come back to me, but if not, any suggestions or constructive criticism (or a better puzzle themed name for tim) would be helpful

#If there are grammar issues i blame the fever #also i am now more concerned about my dc obsession #Cause beyond the fact that i apparently wrote this #i also kept hallucanituion Diana Prince (voiced by Grey Griffin) working through the problems on my AP CSA Exam #I might be in a little too deep #tim drake #batfam #dc #selina kyle #the riddler #catwoman #edward nygma #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #fanfic #wip

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exoexid · 10 months

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now that we're on exo comeback season i wanted to change my url so i decided to honor two of my fav groups ever hehe :)

caraveis -> exoexid !! 💗🌻💌

#dara.t #it's the first time i've changed it in three years......

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thefearhas · 9 months

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get to know me tag game

Saw this and now I'm doing it, thank you @loserlesbianongsa!

RULES: bold the ones that are true and tag 15 people to do it.

APPEARANCE

Blonde hair // I prefer loose(ish) clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES AND TALENTS

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with (a) friends // I travel during work or school breaks // I can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIP

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend who I’ve known for ten years // My parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

AESTHETICS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sun rise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs

Tagging @hoppipolla and @zerberosa and anyone who sees this and wants to do it :), no pressure though!

#I thought I would bold more but I guess this is it :))#Changed my nose stud to a nose ring a few weeks ago I think my face and nose really suit a nose piercing I'm glad I decided to get one :))#Ngl at first I thought hm.. I don't travel too much but even going to the same place very often can actually be described as travelling..#Those very very long car drives are kind of travelling I can't deny it.😭#I want to be able to confidently say I can speak three languages kind of fluently. But my skills are not good enough.. yet.#I'm working on it. And even if my English is not fluent I am able to speak it and that's enough for now :)#I bleached my hair for the third time last year and now it's a bit damaged..#The first two times my hair did not get this damaged..😔 But it's okay thankfully I love my natural hair colour too much to bleach all #my hair so I only ever got a few blonde strands :)#Also the Mexican food one.. it's not like I dislike it I just don't think I have ever really tried something authentic?#I don't know. I kind of want to try food from cultures I've never tried before but I need someone to come with.#There is actually a friend who suggested to go to a Mexican restaurant and she also said that she wants to try Vietnamese food..#I'm gonna text her when I have time again.#It's getting really unrelated here but I would really like to try homemade kimchi one day because I want to compare it to something #I know from my culture bc I read that it's a bit similar.#I watched a Korean street food video with my mum a few months ago and there were a few dishes that locked similar to food we know.#Everything looked so interesting. I'm rambling but it's okay.

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werewolf-transgenderism · 2 years

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hi hi hi!! is melba your favourite villager? who do you have on your island? :)

melba is tied for favorite with lily!! I love them both so much

I also have fang and molly in my little Marie de France section of my island (wolf and bird to represent bisclavret and muldumarec), and then a little residential area where julian, filbert, daisy, norma, roald, and cousteau all live :)

#I have had most of these guys for the majority of the time I've had the game norma was one of the first three villagers #I haven't changed my villager lineup since I got lily in my campsite like two years ago #I was never good at letting villagers move out they're all so perfect to me

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