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#real life mango
voidsumbrella · 9 months
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kairukitsuneo · 1 year
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miloway · 1 month
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I think the reason I was able to start identifying with the butch label so easily now in late teenhood/early adulthood was because growing up in an evangelical megachurch, there were a couple butches/masc presenting women that just existed and I looked up to (even if it was in secret)
I'm sure these people went through a lot whether it be internalized stuff or figuring out your place in a homophobic/transphobic church while presenting non-conforming, I admire them for sticking to what made them happy.
Even though I deconstructed in my teens and am no longer a part of the church, I admire these people, whether or not they're still believers or in the church anymore. Having that kind of representation in my life made finding myself so much simpler than a lot of other people have to go through.
This is why presentation matters, whether it be in media or real life, seeing people like yourself, helps and grows a person.
If you need that push to start bravely being yourself, this is that call, cuz you will be a person people look up to, relate to and have comfort in when their having a hard time understanding themselves, even if you don't know it,
just existing can help <3
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theshinazugawaslut · 1 month
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:D
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he's a strawberry ! :D - xoxo, angeliiix (u can call me saeyo if u want !) >:D
AHHHH HE'S SO CUTE!!!
Saeyo's such a lovely name! Love you so much baby!
And may I just say how gorgeous the entire aesthetic of your account is? It's everything I could ever want!!
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kellystar321 · 8 months
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#periodical life updates#(<- NUMBER 3!!!) I FINISHED THE ANIMATION AND EVERYTHING FOR THAT PROJECT AND SENT IT OFF! super excited!!#it looks really cute! i tried my best and im mostly satisfied of where i landed <33#it's my little sibling's birthday today!! it's also the first official meeting of lgbt club!! (the other event was a fun lgbt mixer)#my backpack smells bad. like mildew or mold maybe? urgh its awful and gives me a headache. i might need a new one. i dont know. urghhh.#my programming homework is due today!! yike!! but other than that my personal projects with deadlines are all done!#INIQUITY NOW THAT YOU HAVE TIME ARE YOU FINALLY GONNA WORK ON YOUR SELF SHIP BLOG?? YES!! HOPEFULLY!!#truthfully i /have/ been working on it on the side. it looks decent but the colors;;; i have always been pretty sht at color picking?#i can adjust with filters but without that im like. a little not good yet lmao. gotta do some studies sometime perhaps#BUT YAY EXCITED!! ive got some rambles and doodles and a tag system and f/o info which is extremely cumbersome (affectionate)!!#also i have new fandom ocs for the latest dimension 20 campaign and im so delighted heho <33 this campaign is literally so fun.#im watching it with my sibling when its done!! OOH ALSO I FIGURED OUT HOW TO PNGTUBE AND i will likely never use it BUT COOL!!#i dont like. talk. lmao. my art streams are 1) silent 2) rare 3) only shared with my siblings. pngtuber is a little useless. but CUTE!!#i got boba tea yesterday!! sandy bought it :3 <3 and we're having pho and cheesecake later and i might plan out a little excursion today?#like i might get a treatsie. OR i'll just sit on campus as usual and get a mango smoothie and draw for a while (or work on homework.)#(lets be honest its likely the former. i might get a little back into traditional? ooh or maybe i'll practice my asl?) HEY THOUGH.#ive been thinking about making a henrey stickmn (ask)blog to practice asl? like. no plot. just henry teaching ellie and charles asl#really funny considering my Real concept of an askblog for THSC. not ace or eca; but a secret third thing (⛎) ;)#then again since when have i EVER followed through on an askblog lmao?? damb im all over the place today. we're already hitting tag limit#okay!! 3 AM!! if im going early tomorrow i gotta eep! goodnight everyone i love you!! see you tomorrow if i have the energy and time!!
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formulapisces · 10 months
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i went and saw the besties the duckies today and look! there’s so many! and the ducklings have grown up! 🥺
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i also bought wildflower seeds too which i’m going to plant around in autumn or spring :)
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ninjago playing d&d
Lloyd as the DM
Nya is a Paladin
Jay is a Bard
Kai is a Sorcerer
Cole is a Barbarian
Zane is a Rouge (with an incredibly detailed backstory)
and Pixal "doesn't play" but she watches them and gives Llyod ideas
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nikkiissleepy · 2 years
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if u could rename wasteland, what would u call it?
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Can't believe my parents nicknamed me Frooti. No wonder I'm bi.
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buthappysoverrated · 2 years
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Today’s
Milk tea and mango. What is it with hy and mango? Yes.
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voidsumbrella · 22 days
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!!!!!
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fanfictrashdump · 3 months
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Today I had the experience of being unmuted on a zoom call, declare "do you want your cranbys?", have a full-fledged argument about someone being a con artist, and THEN have to explain that I was talking to my crow buddy.
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ariaofsorrows · 3 months
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snow!!!!! yipeee snowww!!!!
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pakheedubey · 1 year
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first mango of the summer
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satoruxx · 6 months
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ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words
✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!
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i. 2007
satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.
he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.
satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.
he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.
you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.
ii. 2007
(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.
a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.
"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.
"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."
you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"
he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.
you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)
iii. 2008
satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.
he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.
"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.
"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."
"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."
he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.
you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.
"guess i couldn't stay away."
he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.
iv. 2007
(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.
nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.
shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."
when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.
then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.
satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.
shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)
v. 2008
it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.
he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.
every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.
you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.
"where's suguru?"
he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.
it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.
"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.
you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.
"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.
"what do you mean, gone?"
satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."
he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.
he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.
when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.
you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.
"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.
you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.
vi. 2007
(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.
you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.
"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.
"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.
satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.
"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."
he grins. "what? can't stay away?"
you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."
satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.
but you see right through him, like you always do.
"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."
"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.
"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."
fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.
"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.
you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."
he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"
the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.
he should've gone with you.)
vii. 2012
satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.
it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.
he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.
and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"
your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.
"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.
"nobody." he had answered.
he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.
"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"
"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."
you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"
"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.
"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.
satoru's mug shatters against the wall.
the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.
"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."
"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.
his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.
viii. 2006
(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.
even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.
he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.
"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."
shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"
"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."
your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.
the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.
and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)
ix. 2017
satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.
he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.
you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.
it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.
satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.
he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.
"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."
you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"
"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."
there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.
"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.
god he misses you so much.
he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.
"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"
his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.
he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.
you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.
he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.
when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.
satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.
he misses you so much.
x. 2007
(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.
he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.
well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.
maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.
that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.
there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.
they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.
it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.
"what are you doing?"
satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.
"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.
"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.
"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.
satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.
even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.
suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.
satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.
suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.
the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.
satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.
only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.
then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.
then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.
just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.
"don't want him to get lost."
xi. 2018
something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.
satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.
but something is wong. he needs to wake up.
the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.
you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.
you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?
you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.
you'll always haunt him.
you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.
for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.
he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.
he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.
your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.
his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.
"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.
"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.
no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.
no more haunting.
there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.
his eyes fall shut with a sigh.
"guess i couldn't stay away."
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filmnoirsbian · 1 year
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There are some things that cannot and should not be considered art. Art needs to have meaning and depth. “Middle grade” books and other pieces of media made for or about kids and teenagers simply don’t have the same capacity for deeper meaning. I think it’s fine for adults to consume pieces of media like that ocassionally, but it’s like reading Fanfiction or eating junk food; it has no real value, and it’s self-indulgent in way that is detrimental. Read what you want, but don’t pretend that middle grade or young adult is great literature, or that the people who make them are somehow creating art. It’s that sort of mindset that breeds “writers” like John Green and Becky Albertalli.
I contemplated simply blocking you over this but in the end decided to use your extremely pretentious ask to announce my appreciation of and respect for kid lit and especially middle grade lit. Literature for kids is some of the most important you can ever write, because these are the stories that can make a lifelong reader or turn someone away from literature completely. That anyone could look at books like the Chronicles of Narnia, His Dark Materials, Esperanza Rising, Walk Two Moons, Monster, The Watsons Go to Birmingham, anything by Kate DiCamillo, The House on Mango Street--and hundreds more--and say "there's no art there" just proves that any enjoyment you get from reading lies only in seeming intellectual to others and reveling in that perceived intellectualism, rather than engaging with a writer's creation. It's also overwhelmingly sad. In my experience, the adults that look down on kid literature--despite it being these very books that made them love reading in the first place--tend to be incapable of finding joy in the smaller aspects of life, or in any piece of art that isn't critically acclaimed so they have some proof that their taste is better than other people's.
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