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#and then I lost some of the glasses I wanted
literaila · 2 days
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will you ever think of writing reader's reaction to megumi going on a mission alone and getting hurt and after finishing the mission he stumbles home having lost a ton of blood and just looking very hurt ? her poor baby is hurt so what will she do ?
(waaaaay back in the past)
“what the hell is wrong with you?” you ask him, wanting to slap the stupid smirk off his face, the stupid glasses, and his stupid chiseled jaw.
his face is completely unfair. his attitude is infuriating.
satoru moves his jaw, wincing in pain. “if i don’t let him get a hit in, he doesn’t let me spar—“
“you let him hit you?”
your hand is holding his chin, keeping his stupid eyes on yours—even through the glasses, even if you can barely see them.
something about satoru gojo makes you want to run towards the edge of the nearest cliff, and then turn around so you can drag him along with you.
he is a terrible person.
“suguru would’ve noticed. i just forgot to block—he swung right,” he says it almost in awe, almost groaning, “he never swings right.”
“the more you talk, the stupider you sound.”
“let me go. it doesn’t even hurt.”
“i think he broke your nose.”
“what!?” he stands up, off of the table in the infirmary. you take a step back, scowling at him. your arms cross automatically. “is it crooked?”
“yes. it’s very ugly now.”
satoru scowls. and then he lights up, once again. you can basically feel it when he opens up all of his eyes. “it’s fine. shoko will fix it.”
you scoff at him, your glare an impenetrable thing.“shoko is busy. and this is your fault—don’t take up her energy just because you’re being an absolute idiot—“
“she likes practicing.”
“you know what i like?” you ask, taking a step closer, wishing that you could pop his convient little bubble and pull on his hair. “i like not having to drag you off of the court yard because you were stupid enough to let geto hit you!”
“he barely grazed me,” satoru crosses his arms. he’s looking down at you like he always does—self righteously, arrogantly. “i think you should calm down a little.”
you blink, watching him.
and then you tilt your head. “can you release your technique real quick?”
“huh? why?”
“so i can mess your face up even more—“ and then you push even closer to him, hands going up to his face and—just like you knew he would—satoru releases his technique.
maybe it’s because he’s caught off guard by your impromptu storming of him, or maybe it’s just because he’s finally gained some listening skills.
either way, it lands satoru sat back on the table, and you basically in his lap.
satoru coughs, holding his nose. “i think you broke it again,” he groans.
you look to him, wide eyes, and then down.
and, well, oops.
but you straighten your face out quickly. “good. i hope that hurts.”
“i didn’t do anything to deserve this.”
“just because you’re a loser who lets himself get attacked—“
“we were training—“
“doesn’t mean i should have to put up with it.”
your arms are crossed. you’re sitting in satoru gojo’s lap, staring intently at him, and it’s…
(well it’s sort of like a breath of air. it’s sort of like you’ve wanted to be here for the past year. sort of like you actually like him. which you don’t, just to be clear.)
then satoru smiles, and he’s almost hypnotizing you. “are you worried about me?”
“no. i’m worried about my own sanity. i already have to deal with everyone else getting hurt, i thought,” you take a breath, shaking your head. “i thought i was cleared with you. ‘cause of your… thingy.”
“my thingy?”
you roll your eyes. “you can apologize anytime, you know.”
“i’m very sorry that you have to look at me when im this disheveled.”
“you look the same as always.”
satoru pouts. “why would you say that?”
you scoff, flicking his head. “stop being an idiot—i know it’ll be difficult for you, but at least try.”
“are you flirting with me?”
“you wish.”
then satoru coughs again, still grinning at you, his face beginning to turn all sorts of purples.
there’s a moment where you stare at him, awaiting his next move.
but satoru only clears his throat. “are you, uh, going to get off of me?”
your eyes widen and you scramble to get off of him, basically elbowing satoru in the stomach while you do it, and you move five steps away from the table.
just in case.
satoru grins at you again. “well, i should probably call shoko so she—“
you cross your arms again. “i already did.”
“you did?”
“yeah. when you were washing the blood off of your face.”
satoru practically sparkles at you. “aren’t you sweet?”
“she’ll be here soon,” you say, looking away from him. “and you owe me.”
“of course,” satoru hums, “whatever you want.”
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notafragilething · 2 days
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Buck/Tommy Late Night Endgame Ramblings
I want to start off by saying that this is all speculation and I think it's a bit to early to know what their long term plans with Buck and Tommy are but....I get the feeling that they are possibly being set up as an endgame/long term couple so I'm going to ramble about why I think there were some subtle hints of this already. And I need to know if other people agree with this. Please reply or send me messages or something because I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ON THIS!
The main reason being the parallel between the hospital scene and the end of Buck/Abby's relationship. Now, I can't claim credit for noticing this but I saw someone on here mention the parallels between the scene where Buck drops Abby off at the airport and Tommy arriving at the hospital.
So I went back and watched that singular scene.
It's Buck and Abby outside the airport saying goodbye. She needs to leave and Buck says he'll be there waiting for her, which is shown by Buck never moving from his spot in this scene (until it's time to walk away). He's standing still. They kiss goodbye, she walks through the glass door and we see them close between them. This visually showed the door closing on their relationship.
Now, rewatching the Buck and Tommy hospital scene after that made some things stand out.
The first thing that jumped out to me is that there isn't one door. There are two. The scene starts from Buck's point of view as he walks through opening doors. You then see Tommy, from Buck's point of view, walking through the glass doors to enter the hospital. Both Buck and Tommy are walking though their own opening doors.
Tommy, meanwhile, has literally come straight from the fire. He's in gear, dirty, sweaty and hasn't slept since he left the bachelor party. But he came straight to the hospital because he was here for Buck because this was important to him.
They then meet in the center together for that kiss.
We know now that Tim has been queer coding Buck since season 2 when Abby left and maybe this is all accidental but honestly? The opening doors, the meeting in the center, etc. It really seems to be doing some symbolism to set up their relationship in juxtaposition to a failed one and this isn't what you would do for something casual.
Have I completely lost the plot or is anyone else seeing this?
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ithebookhoarder · 1 day
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Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭
All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.
A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕
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Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness 
Masterlist
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It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.
Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.
No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field. 
You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing. 
You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team. 
Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.  
As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot… 
That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was. 
It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master. 
They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return. 
The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides. 
You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage. 
“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”
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He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you. 
It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may. 
So, you’d said yes. 
You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons. 
Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.
Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.
Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further. 
“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”
“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.” 
Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter. 
Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him. 
In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess. 
“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”
“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.” 
“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”
Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you. 
Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?
As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people. 
You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together. 
“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her. 
It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk. 
“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”
“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”
“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”
Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”
“-LOOK OUT!”
The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd. 
“Good god!”
The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop. 
Anthony.
“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.
As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.
Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”
“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.” 
“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”
“Almost.”
“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”
“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled. 
It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking. 
“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked. 
“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”
Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.
A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.
“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.
“What on earth for?”
Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”
You all rolled your eyes.
“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”
Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one. 
“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd. 
“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”
It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field. 
“What about female guests though?” 
Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise. 
“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.
He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time. 
After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.” 
“Anthony?” 
To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.” 
“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.” 
Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.
"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."
“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.” 
“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-” 
Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections. 
It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.  
It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.
"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.
You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.
Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."
"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."
The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-" 
He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.
"Thank you," you cheered marching away.
He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice. 
All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently. 
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Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?
"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green. 
Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field. 
Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target. 
"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?" 
Oh. You were in for it now. 
Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl. 
It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc. 
There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place. 
"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread. 
So, you did.
Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way. 
Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then. 
"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur. 
Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.
"Come on Y/N!"
"Anthony! Run!"
"Over here!"
"Come on!"
The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.
"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy. 
You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you. 
All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you. 
You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.
"IN!" 
The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured.  Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng. 
The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.
"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."
"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."
As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations. 
With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."
The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."
You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter? 
It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream. 
"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."
"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"
"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly. 
"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."
"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."
Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.  
It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you. 
As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face. 
"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"
"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you." 
"Thank you."
"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"
"Ok, Anthony. I get it."
"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"
"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"
"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion." 
"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."
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symptomsofdeceit · 2 days
Note
Spoilers just in case!!!
In the backstory of their childhood we see Thaumo and Nalis being all together (i assume they're all friends in that time) but during the scene with Thaumo coming into the office with Mc for their lunch break and Nalis sees Thaumo and ask who they're, was it for Mc sake? or did Nalis not actually recognize Thaumo? or something we'll learn more as the game goes on
Nalis met the mc around a year ago, and he never met Thaumo before the game. The childhood friend with Thaumo & mc is a different character.
The other kid isn’t named in the flashback because the mc can’t remember his name. In the longer flashback from Thaumo’s POV it is mentioned that he’s a sea star boy & has star shaped pupils, though! Some spoilers/bonus info under the cut:
He’s associated with crown of thorns starfish.
He has kinda spiky/messy hair and glasses. In the demo it’s unclear what happened to him, but if he survives to adulthood he would have lost one arm & both legs from SSWS and ended up with prosthetic limbs.
If he was still in the mc’s life he would have been trying to be another yandere LI also 💀
& finally his colors are super pretty!! I want to draw him just so I can use this palette 💕
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clairerosetarot · 2 days
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What is coming this month for you? PAC
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Find out what is coming for you this month of May by choosing one or more picture from this PAC.
1 —> 2 —> 3
Decks used: Rider Waite Tarot, The Golden Future Orcale, Animal Spirit Orcale
———————————————11333————————————————
Pile 1 🌹🌸
Cards: 2 of Wands, 3 of Wands, & King of Wands
Intergalactic Travel, Planetary Cleansing Oracle
Brown Bear Sprit
-
Hello my pile ones! Here’s what I read, take what resonates and leave what don’t, if it don’t apply let it fly and let yourself be loved. 💛
So immediately what I saw for you was lots of wands energy coming from the deck! (I promised I shuffled and everything, lol!) this tells me that there will be lost of new energies coming in this month. I see lots of your creative energy bursting through and if you have been having any seasonal sadness or procrastination throughout these last few months you will soon be shedding that and a new burst of energy will be jolted into you.
With the conjunction of the 2,3 of wands as well as the intergalactic travel and planetary cleansing oracle I see that sprit wants a vacation/work trip to be underway for you. I sense this could be to a sunny place, maybe somewhere you have been saving up/think of for a while now while you were in the aforementioned winter sadness stage might be becoming further along in its process into the 3d babes! Maybe Hawaii/Singapore/Macau/Bali/Cancun?
If not that’s okay but I do see some networking opportunities opening up where you can share your passion with others who understand you.
With the brown bear and king of wands coming together in your reading, I see that you do need to take some action for this to happen, but sprit is going to make it easier for you! I’m hearing Miguel’s ‘Sure Thing’ here lol (great song! Listen to it if you haven’t!) but basically, spirit is saying “if you be the match imma be the lighter babe” Your guides want to match your energy!! Just make sure you are taking the time to show them what you want!
🌹🍀💚Extra Messages/Advice: Don’t overwork yourself, Mediate on what you want, 17 second visualization will help you, Goop, Brazilian Pride, Baa Baa Black Sheep, Chanel Capri, & Marley🌹💚 🍀
Pile 2 🌹🌸
Cards Pulled: 4 of Cups, The Lovers, The Hermit
Angels, Nature & Work Satisfaction Oracle
Canary Sprit
-
Hello my pile twos! Here’s what I read, take what resonates and leave what don’t, if it don’t apply let it fly and let yourself be loved. 💛
Ok so first things first, this is my work hard pile! This May you will definitely work harder towards your goals. I see you guys learning new money saving hacks an dI even feel compelled to say you might learn more about stocks/financial independence. Big money moves for the future happening!
I also can see some relationships, but not only romantic, more like friendships and new people you will vibe with! However with the Hermit in upright, you might not be a total buzzing bee and most of these relationships will occur online. Oh! Maybe you will meet some new people in like a online money making seminar or class where you will sign up for!
Future you will be thanking you for the slow but steady work you are putting in the May spirit says.
🌹🍀💚Extra Messages: Goat Shopping (?), Fragrance Signature, Cryptocurrency, TechNerd, Glasses, Neo, Big suit Energy 🌹🍀💚
Pile 3🌹🌸
Cards Pulled:
7 of Cups, Ace of Cups, Page of Pentacles
Travel and Spiritual Technology Oracle
Flamingo Spirit
-
Hello my pile threes! Here’s what I read, take what resonates and leave what don’t, if it don’t apply let it fly and let yourself be loved. 💛
So right away I see some of you could be quite shy or maybe not opening up your throat chakra these past days/weeks/months/even possible years for some you. Don’t worry, be happy, says spirit as you will entering a new phase that allows you to showcase that hidden social butterfly you have had within yourself awaiting to be bloomed.
Embarking on new Travel could definitely help you I’m hearing the song Living La Vida Loca and some of y’all could even be entering a lil’ ‘hoe phase’ LMAOO. Capri/Las Vegas could definitely help. And if any of you are at or above the legal drinking age, responsibly(!!) sipping on some pina coladas or margaritas never hurt anyone!
I also see that experimentation with new appearance changes (hair,clothing,makeup) could be on your mind and sprit says there is a reason for that. Your. Guides don’t want to change yourself, but rather unlock a new part of yourself that makes you feel free and comfortable. Some of y’all could suffer from social anxiety and aww babes I know how hard that can be! 🥹 You’re doing just fine but remember there is no benefit in holding yourself back. Your guides don’t want you to be afraid of anyone. Safely working with vibrant Goddesses who have found their power like Kali or Athena could be beneficial I’m hearing.
Annnddd if this resonates for any of you: the closet is where you pick your outfit of the day, not where we live in!
🌹💚🍀Extra Messages: Be Bright, RuPaul’s Drag Race, Vouging, Pedicure, First Class, Sex and the City, Hot Pink Liquid Lipstick, Suns out,Buns out! 💚🍀🌹
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heavenlyraindrops · 3 hours
Note
BOOTHIL X READER PELALSPELLSLS I KNOW NOTHING AB HIM AND ITS BEEN A BIT SINCE I OPENED THE GAME BUT I WANT HIM SO BAD AND I AM SAVING SO MUCH TO GET HIM PSLSOSLSLSL
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ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ——> saw this pic in a post by @lynettess then I got this req and I just. I had to
Warnings: profanity, very suggestive, Boothill kinda has an accent or smth idk it’s not bad or anything
A/N: see more of her as in, more often? Or in the other way…? Thanks for the ask Adonis. Sorry this was so short tho :( mayb if it gets enough notes I’ll write a pt. 2…
Your plans for a Friday night definitely weren’t to get drunk in some obscure bar in the middle of nowhere, lost all sight of your friend who had dragged you out for a ‘good night.’ They definitely weren’t to be sitting so close to Boothill, to the point where his metal torso was pressed against your warm one, sending a thrill through your body- but his breath fanning across your face was warm.
The alcohol coursed through your system, making you more sluggish than usual- though you were sober enough. Not sober enough to stop and think about whether or not you should get so close to a stranger, and a cyborg at that- albeit an attractive one. Boothill tilted his head to the side, smirk playing across his lips as you giggled at something he said while taking another sip from your glass. 
Your eyes searched your friend out through the crowd of the hot bar, but couldn’t see her anywhere. His hand went to your chin, fixing your gaze back onto his own face. 
“Eyes here,” he said. You grinned, again, face burning, although you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat or from his actions as you swept a couple of strands of hair from your own face. “Didn’t anyone tell ya it’s rude to not look at someone when they’re talkin’?” 
You leaned precariously on your elbow, swirling the amber liquid in your glass. “Apologies,” you teased, hand pressed to your chest. His eyes followed the action. “How ever could I make it up to you?” 
He leaned back, away from you, and you leaned into him again, and his grin only widened. Your eyes traced the marks under his eye and your heart thrummed against your chest. “A favour? From a pretty thing like you? I could never accept that.”
You held up your hand. “Hey, when did I offer you a favour?” You complained, trying to fight the colour rising to your cheeks at his little remark. He tipped his head back to laugh and the sinful thoughts filling your head as you looked at him were definitely not seeing you through to the pearly gates. 
The past hour had been a blur, from when he had slid into the seat next to you, smoothly talking you into flirtatious conversation, up until now, where the tension was tugging at your fervently. And you were so, so close to grabbing him and simply begging him to-
“What’s wrong, sugar? Can’t handle a little compliment?”
No, no, I can’t. Not when it comes from you. Great, now I’m fucking wet. You smiled coolly and took another sip of your drink. “Not when it comes from you,” you shot back, echoing your previous thought. 
“Nice to know I have that sort of effect on ya, sweetheart,” he murmured, and the metal tip of his finger tracing a path along your collarbone. You froze at the provocative touch, hands tightening around your glass, growing more and more restless. 
“Is it?” You stuttered, fighting to keep your voice level. He chuckled, hand dropping down to your waist. 
“Mhm,” he hummed, and suddenly moved back. Your muscles tightened with apprehension- anticipation? You couldn’t tell. 
And then he took his hat off and set it on your head. 
You burned at the thought of the implications of the action as his finger traced the rim of the accessory. “I’m assumin’ ya don’t have any specific plans for the rest of the night?” You took off his hat, setting it in your lap. 
“Well, I didn’t.” You locked eyes with him. 
He raised an eyebrow. 
“But I do now.”
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according2thelore · 2 days
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oh DAMN this au is so insanely good. thank you for blessing us all with your writing.
i think LS sam proposes the foursome during sex and of course LS dean agrees but he thinks it’s just, like, dirty talk. he doesn’t give it a second thought afterwards.
then the next night at dinner sammy just puts down his wine glass like :) so dean and I were talking and we think we should all hook up :) and LS dean just CHOKES
HAHAHA you are so correct!! i am going to add a split for nsft!
dean's going to fucking die.
sammy is beneath him, head pressed to his forearms on the bed and ass in the air, legs spread wide and dangerous, thick cock hanging heavy between his legs.
dean is thrusting into him, and bends over his back so he can bite at the back of sammy's neck--just like the fucker likes. their sweat makes their skin stick, then glide, and dean is going to fucking die.
sam is so hot, so fucking wet. his ass is better than heaven, and dean would fucking know. sam grabs at dean's hair and pulls him even closer so they can tangle their tongues messily, barely catching each other in a kiss. dean has to change his thrusts to a slow grind, little shallow half-circles so deep that sam's eyes roll a little behind heavy-lidded eyes.
"god, i want to do this with them," sam breathes right into dean's open mouth, words hot on dean's tongue. dean doesn't say anything, because words do not exist in his brain. "could you fucking imagine the way younger me would scream when you slam into his ass?"
dean makes a noise, something that sounds like "shit, sam." to his own ears, but he doesn't remember giving his brain permission to speak.
"you're so thick, fuck." sam moans, and dean bites hard on his shoulder in a kind of fucked-out pride. yes, he is. "you just know he's so tight. just fingers up there so far. you'd split him open."
"yeah," dean groans, imagining that. taking sammy at age 23, all spread open and little scrawny arms, concave stomach heaving for breath, and pink nipples that'll make him cry if dean plays with them enough.
"that kid would die on your dick," dean grunts, and sam's wide eyes catch his over his shoulder, as dean leans back so he can get an actual rhythm going again, reaching down to wrap a hand around sam's dick. they both know they're talking about younger dean. "he'd fuck himself on your cock until he died. he'd come before you even got your pants off. at 26, you could've skull-fucked me until i bled and i'd cry of gratitude."
sam cants his hips back in time with dean's next grind in, and dean grabs his hips, controlling the way they move together. dean watches a bead of sweat slide into the divot of sam's spine.
"i want you to fuck him first," sam whines head tilted against the pillow, and dean's hips stutter, thinking about holding his younger self down by the throat and teaching him some fucking manners.
dean's brain melting out of his ears, lost like he always is to sam like this: open and dick leaking and just for dean.
"nah," dean leans down, mouth right against sam's ear. "i'd want him to fuck me first. i gotta make sure he knows what he's doing before i let him take your dick."
sam comes with a wail, spine snapping straight and eyes flying open, like he's shocked by it. dean chases his own pleasure, hips snapping furiously against sam's ass with wet slaps that fill his ears. he bites down on sam's shoulder, hard, and sam's spent dick gives another jerk as dean empties into him.
as soon as they're wiped down, dean falls asleep, completely at peace knowing that sammy'll bitch at him for his come leaking out of him all day tomorrow.
~~~
this is...nice? dean thinks, as he stares around the table.
his younger self is devouring the steak dean made in a truly horrific frenzy. he doesn't even notice that dean very purposefully made sammy a black bean burger, to really drive in his younger self's faux pas from the other day. which in dean's opinion, is super fucking shitty of him.
sam is sitting next to younger dean, and staring at him eating his steak with a sort of pity-disgust-wonder. did they really use to look like that?
dean looks up next to him at sammy, who is calmly chewing his veggie burger like nothing is amiss.
but there have been no blow-ups today--for the first time in maybe a week? he and sam sat in the garage for most of the day while sam watched him fix up an old pontiac. dean was even super charitable and let his younger self blather about whatever he talked about at age 26 to sammy for five whole uninterrupted hours. dean's really feeling like the bigger man today.
and it probably has something to do with the big bruises on sammy's neck, peaking out over the collar of his flannel. dean definitely knows that younger dean saw those this morning. dean can't say for certain that that's why he went so crazy on sammy's neck last night...but he's not not saying that either.
dean reaches for his beer just as sammy next to him finishes taking a sip of his. sammy puts the beer back on the table, and he's suddenly all smiles.
dean raises an eyebrow takes a sip of his beer.
"so." sammy says, and the other two across the table turn to look at him, younger dean's cheeks full of half-masticated meat. "dean and i have been talking."
sammy turns and looks at him, sly smile making dean's dick twitch. he's not a robot, okay? dean swallows. they have? he takes another sip so he doesn't have to finish sammy's sentence, if that's what he's expecting.
sammy looks back at their younger selves. sam has an unimpressed eyebrow raised, and younger dean is trying to swallow his mouth-meat-mountain as quickly as possible.
"dean and i agree that we should all have sex." sammy says.
dean inhales a lungful of beer.
dean's going to fucking die.
~~~
HAHAHA this was so delightful to write. i am kissing you on the forehead for your brilliant brain, anon. sam just being like :D !! so :D what do you think?? :D !! as both deans choke to fucking death on the ground.
and thank you, anon! that's so kind!!!! thank YOU for sending in this lovely prompt!
-lizzy
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Isn't it SO fun to be harassed and bullied at school? /sarc
People call me a "FUCKING WEIRDO!" (Yes, that's word for word.)
They make faces at me like I'm sort of disgusting slob. (And they SHOW it and they WANT me to know they think that!)
Along with that, one kid pretended to gag and throw up at the sight of me, and used solar eclipse glasses to not look at me.
One kid called me ugly today! (YAY! /sarc)
They poke and prod at me like I'm a science experiment.
They fear the fact I smile all the time, that I tend to keep an emotionless expression in my eyes. (I'm only following Alastor's advice!)
They love to annoy me... But it's getting tiring.
Only a select few enjoy my presence, they keep me in and go along with my antics. My friend group likes having me around. And other kids I don't know much and we're neutral with each other.
I know I'm "weird" by their standards. But what's the fun in the world without differences?
I know I took on the persona of "weirdo" in my class. I want to go up to a teacher and cry. Because I didn't deserve to be treated like this?
I didn't deserve to be told "You know you should kill yourself" when I'm already suicidal. Did I?
Get told I'm retarded like 10 times already? Maybe more? (I'm not even exaggerating...)
And considering I might have mental illnesses such as possible autism, that's even meaner. At this point I'm not living, I'm surviving.
There's a reason why I've given up. My best friends are on the internet. I don't think without them I would be able to live today. Why do the people who care about me, share my interests, accept me for who I am, respect me, and TREAT me like I'm a human being, so far away?
I know I may be Xenogender, but that's no excuse for treating me no better than some sort of inferior species.
I see no one else getting treated like this, I'm the subject, no, the OBJECT of their bullying.
What the fuck am I supposed to do??? What do you fucking EXPECT me to do??? "Be yourself"??? I AM being myself, and you're fucking BULLYING me!? AM I SUPPOSED TO PUT ON SOME SORT OF MASK? I AM SMILING, MOTHERFUCKER, YET YOU STILL BULLY ME WHEN I DO HAVE A MASK!? /not you, to them
Like, please. Let me rest. Let me have a normal day where I don't have to face discrimination. Where I get treated with love.
I get treated so awfully so much, that I don't even know who I am anymore.
I lost myself.
My catchphrase has to be "I'm so done-" because I said that more than I needed to.
I feel like the next time someone does anything to me, I'm just going to burst out crying.
🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂
I hope you're doing alright right now, first things first, i need to let you know that you do matter, and you certainly don't deserve to be treated as subhuman as they treat you, I only wish the worst upon them <3 They are bitches who are a waste of oxegyn, they need to put you down to feel something or feel like they matter, and for that they are the weakest most disgusting subhuman people, genuinely hope they get more fucked up than they ever made you feel 🧡
It's pretty obvious that they're trying to make you feel shit, and i wish i was there to fight them off or comfort you when it happened, i said it before and i'll say it again, you don't deserve any of this. You deserve to be happy, and to feel like you are loved and cared for, the way they treat you is uncalled for and it's disgusting [them, not you, your cool] And agreed, your gender or your neurodivergence shouldn't be the reason you get bullied, they aren't things you can control, or things you have to change, they are litterally a part of your being/existence, I can't believe all of the shitty things they're doing, you don't deserve it. Have you tried to tell anyone? [although that doesn't work often, it's worth a try]. It seems like it's really affecting you, whether you admit it or not /nbr /npa I'd reccomend telling a teacher/principle [the meaner the teacher the better], if that doesn't work fight back, physically i wouldnt reccomend but if you have to, do it. Theres not much we can do about bullying, which is fucking shitty, but please hang in there at least and take care of yourself, i care about you and love you /p
I hope it gets better and they stop, they're pieces of shit who shouldn't be making you feel like this, they're insensitive cunts who should have their face cut up, hope they get bullied those fucking assholes
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forlorn-crows · 12 hours
Text
𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 5: 𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒔
words: 911 pairing(s): mountain + hank the raccoon/juniper the cat catch up on the hank lore [here] and [here] and [here]
A thumbtack. An acorn. A loose ribbon. A big lilypad snatched from the lake. Pebbles, flowers, and petrified chips. Even a lost earring without its twin, the worn gold star glinting from where it’s buried in the pile of random trash and trinkets.
Mountain stares. The only reason he noticed it at all was because he had to scoot out the storage cabinet to get to the stone planters. He sets down the tower of pots he was shuffling from one end of the greenhouse to the other and wipes his hands on his apron. Curiosity reels him in; he squats down to inspect the squirreled-away pile of things at closer proximity. 
The little stash is actually quite unique. Hardly any duplicate objects besides the pebbles—even the dried blooms differ from each other. Mountain pokes around some of the objects with his finger, rummaging for the more buried items. A broken plastic bubble wand. A scrunchie. Part of a grucifix. A cork. Even a guitar pick. And . . . are those . . ?
“My glasses?!” Mountain frees them from the pile and stares at everything open-mouthed. He’s been looking for them for weeks; swore he left them in here, just on the bench, but when he had come back the next day they were gone. He had come to terms with having to get a new pair (though he quite liked these ones)—and yet, here they are.
There’s a rustling behind him, and when a round little body toddles up to him, the puzzle pieces click into place.
“Hank,” the earth ghoul accuses. He dangles the pair of readers in front of the raccoon’s twitching nose. “Why’d you steal my glasses, dude?”
Hank chitters and whips his fluffy tail back and forth, ears pinning back to his head. 
Mountain sighs and offers him a scritch under the chin. Too cute to stay mad. “I’ve been blindly potting flowers for many days, little one,” he scolds, albeit with a kinder tone. 
The animal squawks and pushes past Mountain’s legs to his trinket stash. He whines when he sees the state of it, all scattered about and disorganized.
“Well you can’t blame me for wanting to look,” the earth ghoul defends himself. “You’re not stealing from other people, are you?”
Hank screeches at the accusation.
“Sorry, sorry. Just me then, hm?” He gets screeched at again and bapped in the shin with Hank’s tail. 
Lucifer give him strength, he’s arguing with a raccoon. “Okay, let’s just say you found them, then.”
Hank is pleased with this answer. He chirps and begins to re-arrange his items. 
“Why do you have all this anyway? I mean, I’m a lover of a good trinket myself, but you aren’t exactly the collecting type of species . . . also I’m not sure that all of these things count as trinkets.”
The animal gives him the best side-eye a raccoon can muster.
“Hank, there’s a dead bumblebee in here.”
If a raccoon could roll its eyes and lift its chin indignantly, Hank would do that. Instead, he chitters what can only be a string of small mammalian passive aggressive statements. 
“There’s no need for such language.”
Hiss. Chirp chirp. 
Mountain rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I’m not saying you can’t—listen. Little one. My darling. Little. Creature.” He emphasizes each word with a sigh, chopping his pressed-together palms down as punctuation. Hank stops fussing with his objects and looks at the earth ghoul with those black little orbs. “Could we, perhaps, just find a better place for them? Put them somewhere I’m not going to accidentally crush them with an old armoire, yeah?” 
The animal screes happily, bouncing over to the earth ghoul and standing up with his little hands outstretched. Mountain snorts and picks him up, rising back up to his feet and flipping him over to rub his belly. 
“Why do you have to be so cute?” he asks, playfully pinching under Hank’s chin. The raccoon only kicks up a scratchy purr in response, swatting at Mountain’s wrists weakly. Mountain bounces him like a baby for a few moments before setting him down again, glancing around for something to use for his friend’s treasures. 
“Hm. I think there’s an old basket or . . . something around here,” he mumbles. He taps his hands on his apron as he scans the rows of tables and shelves. No . . . no . . . no. Suddenly, Mountain stops. Scrunches his face up and turns back towards Hank fully confused.
“Why are you hoarding things anyway?”
As if to answer his question, Juniper squeezes her way through the back door. Mountain had put a kitty door in it for her and Hank—though, Hank still prefers to force himself through the gap in the opposite corner of the green house where the windows have bowed out throughout the years. 
The white cat offers a mrrow in greeting, striding up to the both of them with an unbothered, graceful aire. Hank chitters excitedly and bounds over to his pile of trinkets, quickly selecting a mystery bauble between his thin little paws. He shoves it in his mouth and runs over to her side, chirping in greeting and dropping the object at her feet.
A close-to-fresh dandelion. Juniper mrrp’s at the gift and leans down to inspect it, the buttercup yellow petals tickling her nose. She seems pleased with the gift and rubs her cheek affectionately against Hank's with a purr. Two little unlikely lovebirds.
“Ah. Should have guessed that’s who those were for . . .”
𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿
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islayhawkin · 2 days
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Coming home
Simon "Ghost" riley x f!asexual!reader
Request: Hello! I saw you're cool with writing fics for ace readers and I was wondering if you'd like to write something for either Ghost from COD or V from Devil May Cry? Something like they're reassuring the reader that they're okay with them being ace? If it's not possible, that's completely fine! I'm just so happy to see someone including us in fanfiction 🖤💜🤍Thank you, and have a good day/night! :)
Warnings!: mention of sexual themes, making out, human body reaction, swearing
ooc simon ( bc it's kinda unrealistic that he'd even be in a relationship but we can do in fanfiction what we want so we're gonna ignore that. In my head he's just a lost puppy )
Hurt/comfort, fluff
A/N: I did my reasearch in form of fanfiction too and literally almost every fic on tumblr under ghost x reader is smut so I'm starting the counter-revolution for aces. Hope anon will find this again. Bc I've been on hiatus for some time.
.
The 414s had gone to a bar at friday night after a long mission. They had the weekend off for the first time in a while. They all had a hard time adjusting to the civilian life again but most of them did have a life to return to outside of work. For ghost, well rather simon, this life contained you. His civilian life was practically you. It was all he cared about outside of work really.
The group sat around the table with glasses in their hands conversing about nonsense really but for them it was pretious to be this careless for a moment. Simon sometimes contributed dry comments which earned some laughter from soap beside him.
Simon had invited you. Though he was at first hesitant to bring you together with the 414 however that changed quickly when he heard that you'd be walking home alone in the darkness than. And as if you didn't do that every day he seemed adamant to not let you do that when he was around.
The bar they were at was relatively quiet as you entered and spotted the team on the other side of the room. A small smile formed on your lips when you saw the back of his head.
Unfortunately for you the men had settled on the topic of sex when you joined them.
"Can't wait to get that stress of the last months sorted out." Gaz chuckled. The others laughed while adding comments of their own. "I bet riley's gonna have a blast tonight when he gets home." Soap laughed with a teasing look to his commrade.
There was a small grin on Simon's lips at the teasing but he quickly shut them down. "Shut up johnny."
You made intentionally loud noices when walking the last few steps to make yourself known to the group and also not to startle simon. He turned around in his chair and immediately stood up to greet you. When he stood up his figure towered over you.
"Hey."
"Hey. I'm glad you're back." You smiled and gave his arm a small squeeze. You were still quite distant from eachother due to your knowlege about him, were you aware what he was comfortable with. You were sure he didn't even feel your soft touch through all that cloth and muscles though.
He made a quick introduction to the team before everyone rearranged themselves so you were able to get a seat beside simon.
The evening was great. You got along really well with everyone especially with soap. There were laughs here and there sometimes teasing comments towards you and ghost, which he quickly shut down. But they still lingered in the back of your mind when you came home to your shared apartment.
It's not like you minded their comments. You all were adults and it was their way to chill after weeks of just living in life-death situations. Some jokes were actually quite funny you had to admit. These men who normally went around threatening people were actually really hilarious.
You clicked the lights on in your apartment and threw your shoes off. Ghost stood for a while at the entrance hall watching your every move as you moved around the apartment, changing your clothes into something comfortable.
When you realised he didn't follow you inside you took a cautious step back into the entrance hall and tried to read his emotions through his mask and gear. "Are you okay?" You asked softly as you approached him. Your hands slowly moving around his waist.
"Hm." He nodded.
"Your home." You whispered with a smile and moved your hand up to remove his mask. He didn't stop you from doing so.
His hair sprang out from under it and you were able to fully take in his state. He looked incredibly tired and worn out.
"Home..." he repeated lowly. The sound vibrating through his body.
You traced a scar on his face tenderly. "Let's get you to bed hm? You look exhausted."
"I'm fine."
"I'm sure you're fine. Just let me take care of you. I'll give you a massage or something..."
The side of his mouth quirked up at that thought. "Alright."
You stood on your toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving for the bedroom again. This time ghost followed you.
His sweatpants and a pair of handmade socks were already neatly folded on his side of the bed. He made quick work of removing his vest and shirt at the sight, leaving his muscled upper body exposed. You had already moved to his side to help him unclasped his belt for him with quick fingers.
"You want to take a shower?"
You unsipped his trousers and he stepped out of them.
"Not now. Tommorow."
You threw the pyjamas pants to him and handed the socks over after he had his pants on.
"You made these for me?" He asked quietly. His eyebrows rose with surprise.
"Yep." You smiled shyly. "We got a matching set now." You showed the socks on your feet. A proud look showing on your face.
One of his rare genuine smiles took over his face. "You're adorable." He chuckled and fastly took his big arm around your waist to pull you flush against him.
"I missed you." The words only a low rumble vibrating through his throat. His eyes switched from your eyes to your lips before he cupped your cheek and leaned into a kiss. His touch was always surprisingly tender with you, almost cautious. As if afraid he'd crush you under his strenght.
The first few times you slept in the same bed with him you even needed to reassure him that he wouldn't crush you beneath him while he slept with you in his arms.
His kiss on the other hand now showed a bit of force behind it as he pushed you slowly against the wall behind you. You both gasped for air when he finally pulled his lips from yours.
A smile tucked at your lips and you stroked your hand through his tousled hair. "I missed you too love."
He didn't give you a long time before pushing his lips to yours again. His free arm resting besides you against the wall. You felt his body react to you as he pulled himself as close to you as he possible could. One of your leg was positioned between his thick thights making it impossible for you not to notice.
The next time simon pulled away he muttered a breathy "sorry. I didn't mean to-" before leaning his forehead against yours. "I'm just- it was much the last few weeks. I've felt bloody alone without you."
"I know." You caressed the side of his head. "Let's go to bed okay? You can cuddle with me all night."
He nodded and cautiously disconnected his body from yours. "I didn't make you uncomfortable did I?" There was a dark shadow over his eyes, which gave you a glimpse of the eyes his enemies saw.
"No. It's alright..." you faltered for a moment. "Are you content this way?"
He looked almost betrayed. "What do you mean? Of course I'm content. I couldn't think of anything better to come home to. You're the bloody best thing that happened in my shit life."
You smiled sadly at his words and took his big hands in your smaller ones. "I mean with me being asexual. I know you said it was okay but I can't help but think I'm depriving you of it when you actually want it. The others made these comments and it got me thinking that you can't have these experiences and advantages of having a partner."
You could see how he was taken aback by your words. As if he never even considered it this way. "I'm not coming home every time again just so I can fuck you. When I'm all alone out there, with the possibility of dying everyday I'm always thinking about you. You're the one that keeps me alive. And you give me so much more that I could ever have asked for. I don't care if I want to have sex. I can't stop wanting it but I can live without it, I can't live without you."
There was silence in the room except for the small breathes.
You smiled tearfully. "Who would've known you could be such a poet." You chuckled.
He grinned. "I'm just stating the truth."
You kissed his crooked nose. "God I love you."
...
You snuggled up against his bare chest. His arms engulfing you in them. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you. But simon was still in his head. You thought he was trying to process the events of the past weeks.
"I don't want you to think of us like this ever again." He muttered.
"What?" You raised your head.
"I don't want you to think that I'm unhappy with you. That you are depriving me of something. I'm sorry for not showing it more often what you mean to me."
"That's alright. I know how you struggle..." you caressed his side with your palm.
"No it's not alright. You always do this. You're so sweet and understandable of me but I never give you enough back. So please don't think that I think any less of you because of your asexuality. For me you are the best person."
You smiled softly against his chest. "Thank you. I'll try not to."
"good." He squeezed you against him.
It was some time before you spoke up again. "You think about me when you're out there?"
"All the time. You're the reason I'm still alive and come back to you every damn time."
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jellophoid · 15 days
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good morning, I made a table yesterday
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kikker-oma · 7 months
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veemimis · 2 months
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<3
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what would megumi’s life have been if he was actually raised by the zenin from day one? like either gojo lost the custody battle or they were able to scoop him up before gojo ever reached them. i doubt they would want to keep tsumiki with them so she’s not there for little baby megs.
i think it would be really cool to see a zenin raised megumi interacting with his fellow classmates when he attends the school, not to mention the contrast between him and gojo. like on paper they both should have gotten the same treatment-being pampered and spoiled rotten but we also know that the zenin think that hurting little kids makes them stronger so it would be super interesting to see megumi realise that the stuff that happened to him wasn’t normal and for gojo to have a guilt trip bc he wasn’t able to help megumi when he needed someone to help him the most.
So I have a fanfic that I’ve half written (no idea if I’ll ever finish it—I’d love to, it’s just hard to find the time) about EXACTLY THAT that I talked about in this post for an ask game.
That being said, that entire thing happens from Tsumiki’s perspective, and I agree with you—I don’t think the Zenin would have ever actually taken her too. They don’t want her. She’s not Zenin. She’s not a sorcerer. They only bought Megumi. For the most part, Megumi is absent from that post, and you asked about Megumi. So this is what I think would happen on Megumi's side of that post I linked.
It comes down to two things:
1. He is never, ever happy with the Zenin.
2. He never lets go of his sister.
Megumi’s old enough to remember Tsumiki when the Zenin take him away. He's old enough to love her. And I think that Megumi loves very quietly, but he also loves very violently. He wouldn't let his sister hold his hand on the walk to school, but he would sacrifice himself for her future.
I think the Zenin took him from his sister, and I think he kicked and screamed and wasn't strong enough. I think they thought he would forget her eventually.
And then I think he bit most of the Zenin Clan.
At the end of the day, what Megumi wanted was the one thing the Zenin were not willing to give him. They were never like the Gojo clan, they were never going to pamper him, but there are a great many things in this world that they would give the Ten Shadows finally returned to them. But they would not give him a non-sorcerer, non-Zenin sister who would only be a weakness to him. They refused to let him have any contact with his sister, and that was the source of a lot of what soured.
Any Megumi that was taken in by the Zenin would have been taken in to Naobito's household directly. He would be announced as the one who finally inherited their most cherished technique, and he would be declared heir, and the Zenin would call him beloved for it.
They would keep him in a room that was large and empty and almost always dark, and he wouldn't be allowed to decide when he slept or woke, and the door would always be locked from the outside. They would give him a wardrobe of expensive clothes that he hated, and he would never get to pick which of them he wore.
Megumi would hate them. He would hate all of them.
He's just not the type to be comfortable with or enjoy the adoration of others--especially when it's not backed up by genuine love. Megumi is someone who very much values sincerity and depth to emotion--it's one of the reasons why he seems to respect Yuuji so much. Yuuji is a good person who follows through with what he says. He's not just going to talk about wanting to save people--he's there making the sacrifices as he does it.
The Zenin do not actually love him. And he knows it. He's experienced love before, and this isn't it.
They love the idea of him. The fantasy of him that lives in their heads. He has no interest in being their little god prince to contend with the Gojo's own. He knows who he is, and it's not this. He wants to go home. He wants to find his sister again. He doesn't want to do this anymore.
And I think that's a feeling Megumi never escape: he just didn't want to do this anymore.
Megumi would feel like a bug pinned beneath glass in the Zenin compound. He would constantly have people managing him--when he ate, what he ate, what he wore, when he slept, when he woke, when he trained, what he did. Having to become a jujutsu sorcerer signified an inherent loss of control, but it's nothing compared to the sheer objectification that he goes through when the Zenin have exclusive control over him.
He has no power of what clothes he wears. How his hair is styled. His schedule, his diet, the people he speaks too--he's suffocating and the Zenin are just increasing pressure on him.
I don't think Gojo ever thought that would be Megumi's life.
We’re gonna just have this imagining exist in the same world as the Tsumiki centric fic described in the linked post, and in that, the reason why Gojo never took him in was because he didn’t know Megumi had a sister. He showed up, saw the divine dogs, realized Megumi had the Ten Shadows, and decided he couldn’t do this. He was a mess. He was grieving Suguru and Haibara. Megumi looked just like the man who killed Riko, and apparently inherited the fucking Ten Shadows of all the goddamn things. The Zenin would lose their shit, and Gojo didn’t have the energy to fight and told himself he didn’t need to, because if Megumi was the Ten Shadows he’d be cared for like a prince with the Zenin. He turned around and left and spent the rest of his life with Megumi in the back of his mind, always nagging him with whether he made the right decision. It wasn’t until Maki got there and made a few worrisome references to Megumi's standard of living that he started to really worry that he had made the wrong one, and it wasn't until he found out about Tsumiki that he knew it was the wrong decision.
It's like this: The Zenin hurt Megumi in every world.
It would be bad no matter what, but it really gets bad because Megumi refuses to stop trying to get back to Tsumiki. She's his sister. They didn't have anyone or anything in this world, but they had each other, and he couldn't let these people just take her away. He’s feral about it. He refuses to fit the mold they keep trying to cram him in. He’s trying to scale the walls to escape. He’s increasingly desperate and angry and the Zenin are getting more and more frustrated the longer he fights them. He’s the heir to the clan, and he can’t stop trying to leave it to get back to some random girl who isn’t his real sister and isn’t someone they’ll ever allow him to have.
It gets bad.
They put him under increasingly strict levels of control. He’s constantly being trained, which means he's constantly being hurt. He’s not allowed to speak to anyone without the clan head’s approval. He is under absolutely constant guard after he manages to get over the wall and halfway to his old neighborhood before they catch him again. Tsumiki’s name is not allowed to be said aloud, or his old name. He forgets his name used to be Fushiguro, but he doesn’t forget Tsumiki. He doesn’t let himself.
I think it escalates until it hits a breaking point. Megumi becomes increasingly self-destructive and non-responsive to everything they try. They push him to extremes that start risking permanent damage.
I think Megumi would try to hurt himself, eventually.
He wouldn't be in his right mind. He's in the most shit situation possible. He's undergoing pretty severe abuse. He'd be at the end of his rope from the lack of control over his own life, and he'd be spiteful as hell towards the Zenin. And the only thing he has to hurt them with is himself.
As a character, Megumi has always considered his own sacrifice as an acceptable means to the end of getting back at someone. Mahoraga, intrinsically, requires him killing himself as a way of killing someone else. He'd hurt himself if it was the only way he had of hurting them.
Naobito would cover it up. He'd never, ever want the rest of the clan to find out that it happened. It was already bad enough that Megumi openly hated them--he couldn't have the Zenin seeing any vulnerability in what was meant to be their most powerful member. He'd put Megumi in total lockdown until he could make it all go away.
Then they'd make a deal.
A binding vow. Megumi could never purposefully hurt himself again. He could never again try to leverage his own safety against the clan.
And in exchange, Tsumiki would be taken care of.
The last time Megumi saw his sister, she was on a sinking ship. They were running out of food, money, options--he doesn't know if she even has food anymore. He doesn't know if she lost the apartment or if there's still running water.
They're not letting him see her. But they are letting him take care of her. He can sacrifice another piece of control over himself, and she'll never have to worry about money again. They'll pay for her housing, her food, her education, for her every desire for as long as she lives. The trust the Zenin set up for her will be a generous one, and it will be managed meticulously by a trustee who can make sure she'll be provided for until she's old and grey. And Naobito will vow to never hurt her or send someone else to hurt her. She'll be safe. She'll be taken care of.
Megumi makes the deal.
In the end, the deal's what sort of breaks him.
Because he doesn't promise to stop looking for her, but the Zenin manage to make it a part of the terms anyway. When they approach Tsumiki's mother with the offer to be her family's beneficiary, they include a requirement that Tsumiki be moved to another city entirely with no forwarding address given. She needs to be somewhere that Megumi can never find her again.
The Zenin keep the old apartment. They pay the rent every month. And the next time Megumi manages to make it off compound, they let him make it all the way there before dragging him home. They let him see the empty apartment with all its empty rooms.
Naobito wants him to know that Tsumiki's gone. He wants him to know that he'll never find her again.
He tries to run a few more times after that, but he never makes it very far. He doesn't have anywhere to go.
In the linked post, Megumi finds Tsumiki, just once. She's on a class trip. He's on one of his very few and far between allowed excursions off the compound grounds, and he sees her in the crowd and recognizes her, and he ducks away from his escort before anyone can stop him.
She remembers him. He didn't think she would do that.
She tries to save him. He didn't think she would do that either.
She still loves him. And he was always too afraid to hope she would do that.
It goes the same way it did the first time. There's a car, and the Zenin shove him in it. She's on the outside, and he's trapped within, and he wishes she didn't scream so loudly when it happens. The sound never seems to leave his dreams.
His sister still loves him. Naoya hits him in the back of the head. He wakes up, and it was like she was never there at all.
But they hit him harder, after. Like they're trying to beat the memory of her out of him. He has even less freedom, when he already had next to none at all.
But he still has a sister. He has a place to go that isn't here. He just has to figure out where that is.
He wouldn't really have anyone in the Zenin clan. Most people are just... weird about him. Naoya's violently abusive. Naobito's weird and violently abusive. Everyone wants him to be someone he's not.
Maki would be his favorite.
He doesn't care about whether she's got cursed energy--his sister didn't have any. And she's obviously strong. She doesn't treat him like a divine blessing or try to force him to act a certain way. I think they would have genuinely liked each other, but kept each other at a distance. They're both trapped in an abusive situation and keep themselves safe by keeping everyone else at arm's length.
He would have been happy to see her get out, though. He would have told her that she could have his spot as heir or head or whatever when she came back if she wanted it. She would have told him that if he ever got out... well, fuck it. They could be something then. Family. Whatever the fuck they weren't allowed to be here.
She would have told him she's sorry, and she would have meant it. The only one she she regretted more than Megumi was Maki. He would have told her not to be, that if she dared to be sorry for getting out that he would never forgive her, and he would have meant that too.
I think his relationship with his own techinque would be very different in a world where the Zenin raised him. In canon, his issue is that he doesn't view himself as someone who could be powerful or win in the long run, but in this world, all he ever hears is how powerful he is. Pride of the fucking Zenin. The most powerful of them in centuries. Meant to rival Gojo fucking Satoru himself.
I think his real issue would be controlling it.
His technique would be a source of negative associations for him. It's the reason why the Zenin took him away. Most of his interactions with it have involved getting beaten and hurt by either his family or a high-level curse they shoved him in front of. I think he'd have a lot more firepower under his belt than at the start of canon, but he'd have less of a fine tuned control over it.
He lost control over his own life because of his shadows. It think that would manifest in struggling to control his own shikigami at times. he's not as in-sync with them as he is in canon.
Eventually, he'd go to Jujutsu High. He would be the only one in the first year class at the beginning, just like in canon. And he'd finally meet Gojo Satoru, the man he's supposed to topple.
He looks at Megumi really goddamn weird.
He's... enthusiastic. About. Teaching. He guesses. And constantly asking prying questions about the Zenin, but not in the sort of way he'd expect from a rival. In the sort of way he'd expect from someone concerned about him. Which is stupid. And annoying. And weird. He keeps a distance from everyone. They've all heard about the Zenin clan heir, and he has no interest in having to fit or break whatever mold they've already cast him in. He's better off on his own.
Maki's there. She's cordial where other people can see it, and in private, she takes care of him in a way that's terrifyingly close to familial. He's not sure if he likes it. He's not Mai, and she's not Tsumiki, and they both want someone they can't have.
She isn't sorry she left. She is sorry she left him. He can hate her for it all he goddamn pleases.
Of course, if this is in the same world as the linked post, Megumi finds Tsumiki again. He finds her in Sendai.
He gets to keep her, this time.
Gojo Satoru, of all the goddamn people, intervenes and becomes his sister's benefactor. It's super fucking weird. He won't stop looking at Megumi strangely. He won't stop insisting that he didn't know he had a sister, like that matters.
That would sort of be the first time in a long time that life actually gets better for Megumi.
I think he would ask to go by Fushiguro again, once he asks Tsumiki what his name used to be. He'd ask her if she minded it, him taking the name again, and he'd ask the rest of the school to call him Fushiguro instead of Zenin.
Predictably enough, Naobito loses his shit when he finds out, but it's not nearly as big of a pain in the ass as he thinks it is? Because Gojo intervenes.
Gojo keeps intervening.
It drives Megumi nuts, because if anyone was supposed to hate him, it was this guy. If anyone was supposed to be against him, it was this guy. This is the guy he was supposed to rival. This is the guy who killed his shitheel bio dad.
Gojo's just... good to him. He keeps him safe. He keeps him safe from his own goddamn family, and that's--no one's ever done that. No one's ever protected him from the Zenin.
The Zenin try to remove him from the Tokyo campus and move him to Kyoto the second they find out Tsumiki's there, and Gojo just... says no. It causes an uproar, and he doesn't fucking budge. It's treading dangerously close to him kidnapping the Zenin clan heir, his refusal to let them remove him from the Tokyo campus, and he doesn't care about whatever problems it causes him.
Megumi's his student. He doesn't want to leave. So Gojo won't let them take him.
He personally goes to Kyoto and collects him, the one time the Zenin force him into a car and move him when Gojo's off on a mission. He tells the higher ups to get fucked. He changes Megumi's student I.D. to read Fushiguro, and he causes problems for Yaga and the assistants until they start calling him Fushiguro as well.
Megumi's different with the other students once his sister is there.
He's more connected with them. He becomes best friends with Kugisaki and Itadori. He gets closer with the second years. He's visibly happier, and it sort of casts in sharp contrast how unhappy he was before this.
And Gojo? Gojo's so goddamn sorry. He didn't know megumi had a sister.
The thing is that now that both Tsumiki and Megumi are on campus, it sort of haunts Gojo with what could have been. They're both fantastic kids--funny, smart, resourceful. And it's painful watching them try to rebuild what was taken from them. And it could have just. never happened. Because he could have saved them both. He could have been their family.
It's sort of painfully obvious the Zenin abused Megumi, and it fucking haunts him. He doesn't even have to read into Megumi's behavior--he sees it happen, right in front of him, with how they try to control him and push him around. He wants to kill them for it. He wants to hate himself for it. He could have saved Megumi and he just. He didn't.
He wishes he did.
#jjk#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro tsumiki#gojo satoru#zenin clan#zenin maki#also featuring in this au: itadori absolutely torn because his best friend's long lost brother is extremely pretty and he HAS to be in#violation of some kind of bro code. the boy is in crisis. there he is. enrolled in fucking wizard school. his best friend tsumiki finally#found her long lost brother. said long lost brother proceeds to give him his gay awakening. he's fucking sweating. kugisaki stop laughing#gojos latent desire for fatherhood has been violently awakened in this and no one is safe. he's everyone's dad now. no one wants this.#yuuta in africa: sensei it's three am why are you calling is everyone oka--what do you mean what color do I want you to paint my room. what#room. what are you talking about.#yuuta keeps getting the weirdest goddamn updates from japan and he thinks he's having a stroke. what do you mean zenin-kun is fushiguro-kun#and he has a fucking long lost sister and gojos possibly going to gently kidnap him. is it kidnapping if he wants it too but the people who#has custody of him doesn't. what do you mean he needs to come back and help maki kill her entire family. maki explain your words explain#yes word of god megumi is also yuutas boy in this one i decide this for no other reasons than i want this#it's not the same way as in sea glass gardens. Maki just said some worrying things when yuuta first met him and he decided to keep an eye#out for him. he didn't seem all that happy. and he seemed alone. yuuta didn't want him to be.#megumi's sort of blindsided because he went from being raised in a clan where he was barely a person to having a bunch of medically insane#people decide that his wellbeing was their personal crusade. like. no one ever cared about /him/ before this. they just wanted their idea#but not who he really was. he felt like he was screaming and no one could hear it. then suddenly these people he barely knows are like#okay so we're going to punch your shitty bio uncle and also set his car on fire. yes we will call you by the name that makes you most#comfortable. yes we will help you get a new wardrobe full of clothes you're actually comfortable in.#he hadn't heard his own name in years. he's just been the ten shadows. never fushiguro. only rarely megumi.#everyone calls him fushgiuro at the school. his sister calls him megumi. he sort of wants to cry about it but he doesn't.#his shitty uncle shows up and makes a big stink about him being called zenin and inumaki and panda keyed his car. is this what love is.#is it a keyed car.#Low key he does NOT know what's going to happen the first time the school goes on break because gojo keeps making comments about how#megumi's not going back to the zenin compound and he says it like a joke but. he may not be joking. is he not joking. is. is megumi being#kidnapped. again. this is getting statistically improbable. did gojo just. decide. to keep him. when did that happen.
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girlscience · 1 month
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good GOD this trip. I have loved the scenery and the hikes we have been on, but my family is about to drive me bonkers.
#literally none of them are capable of making a single fucking decision without debating it for hours#and none of them communicate clearly so there is an insane amount of confusion#and we have done next to nothing because they cannot do anything in a reasonable time frame#like we were supposed to leave at 8:30 this morning and we didn't leave until 9:15#and then we got to the hike spot and my mom lost her glasses and instead of checking under her fucking seat#we had to spend a good half hour looking for them... guess where they were#and then we spent 10 minutes debating if we were going to do the hike we had already Fucking PICKED#and then my mom passed out halfway through the hike which is not her fault and I'm not upset about at all#but we decided to not do the rest of the hike and instead go to the town and look at the artist shops#which was totally good with me except we got there and they all decided they didn't want to look at the shops!!!!!!!!!#yes they were mostly galleries of art we can't afford but they were cool to look at#but nope. spent idk an hour wandering around OUTSIDE THE STORES#we did get the best chai I've ever had tho at a little shop there DELICIOUS#and then they were like beginning the dinner debate and I decided I was fucking done#so I just picked a place and said we are eating here and called and made a reservation and told them to get in the fucking car#like I Get It. it can be hard to pick things but at some point SOMEONE has to make a choice#we can't stand around going 'idk whatever you want' 'i'm okay with anything' 'what did you say?' 'did we decide?' ALL THE TIME#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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werepires · 5 months
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