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thelov3lybookworm · 5 months

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Remember Me? (Part 8)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I promise feyfey is going to leave rhysie. i promise. she just needs a lil bit of time to think things through.

also, im thinking of making the next chapter feyre's pov, and that is why this part was short 😅

Anyways, dont kill me please, and enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n watched as Feyre trembled, her hands wrapped around the small paper cup, the melting ice cream now all but a milkshake.

She seemed to be deep in thought, and her trembling increased. Y/n hoped it was a tremble of rage and not despair.

It was just Feyre and Y/n at the table, Eris having taken the two little boys with him to another table so they could have, as they called it, boys time.

Just the thought threatened to make Y/n smile.

But she suppressed it, as it really was not a good time to laugh. Because her friend next to her was quite literally having a mental breakdown.

But still, she decided to peek at where the three males were sitting near the back of the shop while waiting for Feyre to collect her thoughts, and it became harder to suppress that smile.

There, she found the two little boys gesturing wildly with their hands, their faces covered with the ice cream, and Eris laughed, a quiet joy in his face. He reached out to wipe a little bit of ice cream from Nyx's face, nodding to something the younger boy said.

Then, as if feeling her gaze on him, he looked up.

The world ceased to exist around Y/n as she met his eyes. The sounds or people around her didn't matter, for some reason.

Eris was as still as the wall behind him, and he barely seemed to breathe.

But then Y/n felt a touch on her hand, and she jolted, looking away from Eris as the outside world came back into focus.

Her cheeks burned as she met the watery eyes of Feyre.

"Are you listening?" Feyre sniffed.

Y/n's eyes widened. "Oh. I am so sorry. I zoned out. Can you repeat what you said?"

She sniffed again. "I- I don't know if I can leave him..."

Y/n stiffened. "Why not?"

Feyre's eyes floated towards the back, where Nyx was sat with Fin and Eris. "He... he needs his father."

"He needs no one other than you Feyre. You are his mother."

She nodded slightly, her eyes not once straying from her son. "I know... but he knows who his father is, unlike Fin. He will question me about why we are leaving his papa. I don't think I'll be able to leave Rhys. He is the one that pays me, and despite having my own money... I'm not sure I can use my money outside of night court. Where will I go?"

Y/n's heart clenched at the sheer pain etched across the high lady of night court. "Feyre... you can come with us." Y/n offered. "Fin and I will obviously live all alone. You can live with us."

Feyre shook her head ruefully. "I can't leave him Y/n, especially not on such a short notice."

Y/n heaved a frustrated breath. "Feyre. Think about Nyx. If Rhysand was ready to throw you and Nyx away for an unclear future with a son he barely knew, them I'm really concerned for Nyx. You never know when Rhys decided he's done with you and kicks you out. His mental state is not the best at the moment."

A tear slipped out of Feyre's eyes, and she dropped her head into her hands. "I don't know what to do." She said, her voice muffled.

Y/n felt like she had somehow caused Feyre this pain, and she felt the need to take away that pain. And so she relented, stopped pestering Feyre to leave Rhys.

"Look Feyre, you are Nyx's mother. You know what's best for him. If you need time, then take some time. Think about this if you want. But leave him Feyre. He does not deserve you or Nyx. Also, if you're worried about funds..."

Y/n could not offer to take up the high lady's expenses, because it was hard enough earning and spending for her own son. She didn't have the resources to help another person. But she also could not leave her friend and, essentially, her son's brother, here.

"If you are worried about the funds, then I am sure we can figure something out. We can take up jobs, or maybe we can sell your paintings."

Feyre met Y/n's eyes, tears shining in them.

"I need time." She stated simply. She sniffed once, pulling out a piece of cloth from her bag and wiping her face on it as she stood. Y/n watched Feyre helplessly, knowing she didn't have much time because the sun was beginning to set and Eris had to get out of night court soon.

Y/n stood as well, her hand snapping out to catch Feyre's.

"I can't force you to come with us but... I beg you Feyre. Think about this. And when you are ready, write to me. I will ask Eris to make arrangements for your safe travel to autumn court."

Feyre just nodded, blinking away a fresh wave of tears as she brought Y/n into a quick hug, then walked away, calling out to Nyx. The little boy turned to his mom with a small pout on his face, but then whatever he saw on her face had him bidding Fin and Eris goodbye.

He waddled over to his mother, waving to Y/n as he reached up to clutch Feyre's hand in his tinier one.

Y/n watched the two of them go, despair brewing in her stomach.

"It's time."

She glanced at Eris, who smiled sadly at her.

Y/n nodded, turnng back to catch a glimpse of her fried and her son.

But they were gone.

•○🌑○•

Part 9

Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392

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wolveria · 13 days

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Omg I was trying to write you a anon message about something and my cat bumped me before I could word it how it right so I can’t tell if it sent or deleted it

If you just got a unfinished and awkward ask wining about how unfair it feels that shipping crosshunt or fivesecho etc will get us attacked and run of the platform while the same people with the pitchforks post about rampart SA-ing crosshair while he was in a state that made consent literally impossible that was really frustrating me this morning 😅

I was trying to trim it down and make it less rambling when my cat bumped me lol. I’m firmly in the ship you ship camp it just bugs me consensual clone shipping is the most evil thing you can do here but they can drool over crosshair being violated

Sorry if you got both these aks 🫣 I’m just sleepy and head over heels for crosshunt and it makes me sad I have to vague post and use sneaky tags to not get hate mail and/or blocked when it is my comfort ship idk if any of that made sense

You're all good! I only got this one ask!

I've been seeing this/thinking about it a lot too. Especially with the antis panicked around this little showrunner interaction.

People literally begged in the comments for clarification, hoping that the Kiners were talking about Rampart/CX, and not cloneshipping.

And I'm like... what mental gymnastics do you have to commit to believe that NONCON is more wholesome than cloneshipping. Like don't get me wrong, I've written some fucked up stuff, including noncon, but I can't find a situation where I would write a Rampart and a clone, let alone Crosshair, and it not be noncon. I couldn't even pull it off as dubcon. That is straight up, no consent is happening there, no matter what either party says.

And again, I don't care if people ship Rampart and a clone. I'm a big fan of Hydra Trash Party, and this is basically the Imperial Trash Party. But let's not pretend it's anything but noncon/dead dove. And for these same people to judge and harass cloneshippers? Nah. Glass houses and all that.

But that would be expecting antis to be consistent about their own fictional preferences and tastes, and that's asking far too much of someone who has an illogical stance to begin with.

I'm sorry you have to deal with that, a fandom where torturing a clone is fine, but having them be in a consensual relationship with another clone is a moral outrage.

#star wars #the bad batch #cx #crosshair #rampart #at least for me i'm seeing a LOT of anti cloneshippers saying that crosshair and rampart used to date #and i'm like #that's not dating my dude #at least have the courage to say what it is and while you're at it stop harassing other fans #i hope that helps anon bc you're not the only one feeling a little salty about it

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soracities · 10 months

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i dont know if it is just me but i feel like art is dying. there’s like a lack of space for the artists to explore. a lot of limitation surrounding making art right now.

* I dont if i were able to articulate my thoughts well 😅 (english is not my first language)

oh no your english is fine, lovely, don't worry 💕

it's interesting to me because i think "art is dying" is a statement that is as old as art itself; it has existed in one form or another in every century--people have said this for as long as humans have been making art and for as long the art being made has differed from the art that came a few years before it, and also for as long as the societies it is being made in have changed. i don't necessarily believe that art is dying, because to me art isn't something that can die—it simply cannot be measured in that way; it's a fundamental part of being human and it is always going to be made, no matter what the external circumstances look like.

sometimes, when we talk about creativity and its current state in whatever society we're in, we tend to lose sight of the bigger picture because we measure so much by works and artists that are already "established" (often without examining what factors allowed them to be established): Art™, as we perceive it in its finest and therefore "purest" state, is what ends up in galleries, or the books that top the bestsellers or the "must read" lists, or the songs that become "anthems of the summer" or endure for decades. but for me those divisions aren't set in stone; i don't draw a distinction between the working father who gave up music and the established musician who didn't; one may only sing and play for his kids now and then and the other may get to sing and play for hundreds or thousands regularly, but the intent behind their craft is the same, the moment they create is the same: you are making something and it is reaching someone and it is, in that moment, binding you together and allowing a moment of joy (or relief or community, the possibilities are many). that is art to me: a moment where the world inside you finally becomes bigger than yourself.

that said, i do think there are growing threats to how art is made and to who gets to make it and how that art then finds its way into the world--creativity requires freedom, not just financial, but also psychological and emotional and you cannot make art when you are run off your feet with a zero hours contract, or living paycheck to paycheck, or grappling with mental health issues, or your mind is crowded with endless to-do lists that leave very little room for you to even just get back to yourself, let alone art-making. i can only speak for what i see in most anglophone western countries and in that regard i agree with you in that there is a lack of space for artists to explore, because that space is only available to those who can afford it: those who do not worry about finances because they have an established safety net, those whose time is not tied up in work commutes or full-time or part-time caregiving etc., those who have access to the resources / people / know-how necessary to succeed commercially in their chosen field, and so on.

art--and the freedom to make art, of any kind--are a necessity for our wellbeing but it is, right now, being made into a commodity that only a few people can have access to: this is not to say that someone lucky enough to be well-off cannot write a beautiful story or paint a beautiful picture or articulate a startling philosophy, but that when the only people who are able to put their art out into the world are all from the same world, or from off-shots of, or sharing in, an already similar experience (middle or upper class, for example), it narrows the potential landscapes that the art surrounding us can contain and the experiences it is informed by (i think it also sends a deeply disturbing message; art is the single most human activity, the single most enduring heritage we have as a species, regardless of race or gender--it has persisted for millenia and established the very notion of our humanity and all the facets of whatever a soul might be; so for it then to be cordoned off like this with the implication that something so primal and species defining belongs only to a chosen few, is deeply insidious). art can be a door or art can be a mirror, but what kind of a world will it be when those lead you, always, to the same place?

i'm deeply against the idea of art as something to put on a pedestal, so when i say that i don't believe art can die, i don't mean that i believe art is something too deep or eternal or transcendent to be affected by the world around it; i just mean that human nature is, quite frankly, stubborn (i don't even mean this in a conscious way, i think it's something that is just blindly instinctive): we will always find a way to make something and this something happens across a spectrum of circumstances--it happens in spite of censorship & totalitarianism, in spite of poverty and in spite of shackles, in spite of the dead-end job with the boss you hate and in spite of boredom in the classroom. in spite of and through all these things people have made art and they have couched it in metaphor, or dressed it up with humour or veiled it in irony, and some have been blatant in their refusal and others have been more circumspect and, yes, some of it has been public and enduring, but a lot of it has been private: lullabies passed down, origami roses made of napkins, a busker at a street corner you share 5 minutes of your life with as you listen to them and then never come across that musician again, a scarf knitted for a friend, a hole in a shirtsleeve stitched over in a heart shape and etc etc etc. some has been big, and some has been small, and some has been made, not for the sake of any kind of endurance or legacy, but simply because: because i am an i and i am in this world and it is what it is (grief-stricken, astonishing, painful, lonely, incomprehensible) and i lend my existence whatever shape i can, even if it's just drawing aimless patterns in the sand on the beach. when i say i don't believe art can die i just mean that, no matter what is happening in the world, someone, somewhere, will crack a dick or a sex joke or craft the most godawful pun known to man and it will still be hilarious.

this is longer than i intended but to sum up i think for me, more than anything, it's the structures around art, the mechanisms through which it engages, actively and widely, with its society as a whole, that are being limited or threatened (or are changing in order to do the limiting and the threatening). and even then, when you get down to it. i think that itself is about something more; i think the only real threat to Art, as it stands, is an existential threat which, ultimately, is not so much about art as a whole but the broader ramifications of what it means to be human, to be a collection of humans, bound together and interacting with the world we are currently living in, with the trajectory it currently has. i think the real focus of whether or not art is dying should be there, because it's not so much about art as an isolated activity: it's about us. x

#ask #anonymous #notes from elsewhere

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weirdkpopgirl · 1 year

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Too Much | Chenle Imagine #3

Title: Too Much

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Warnings: mentions of a breakdown (yes another one), and good old stress

Word Count: 671

Author's Note: So um I did write this based on recent experience from my first job. I just added Chenle to it, partly because I love writing stuff for Chenle. Even though he isn't my bias (sorry Chenle), I think having someone like him in my life would be nice. Also thank you for all your kind words from my last post. I just get really annoyed with myself and especially my writing. But thank you for reading and listening to my tiny rants 😅.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Chenle’s attention on the television moved away when he heard the clicking noise from inserting the passcode into the front door. The dimmed light of the room barely allowed him to see your figure come through the doorway. After kicking off your worn-out sneakers, Chenle could hear your soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor.

He barely felt your body sink on the couch cushion beside him. Your neatly tied ponytail from the morning was now droopy. Despite the lack of light in the room, Chenle could make out the faint dark circles under your eyes.

“You should’ve just gone home to rest if you were tired,” He sighed. His hand reached to cup the right side of your face.

You didn’t say anything for a moment. But Chenle saw the stress screaming from your eyes. He didn’t need to ask if you were okay because he knew the answer. Eventually, you did speak.

“I quit my job.” The four words fell from your lips with subtle despondency.

Somehow that sentence alone was able to set off the waterworks. The fresh tears almost burned as they streamed down your cheeks. A second didn’t even pass before Chenle’s arms were wrapped around you in a much-needed embrace. For once, the loud boy was silent. His hand quietly patted your back, as you softly sobbed into your hands.

Eventually, he noticed Daegal pawing at his legs. Then he smiled and picked up the small white dog to bring her to your face. Giggles would quickly erupt when you felt her tiny pink tongue lick across your knuckles.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” You pulled away slightly to grab a tissue from the coffee table and blew your nose. “I should be happy I won’t have to deal with all the crap I get at work after this month.”

Chenle’s lips parted as he gently put Daegal back on the floor. “It’s probably because you’ve been holding in all this stress from your stupid boss until now.”

You laughed again, impressed by your boyfriend. He knew you better than yourself.

“You’re only eighteen, (Y/n)-ah.” He cupped your cheek again to wipe away any leftover tears. “You’re not Wonder Woman or Captain Marvel. You don’t have to carry all this weight on your shoulders.”

You shook your head in slight denial. “Everything has been too much lately. But I seriously thought I could hold it in a little longer.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Your boss is an idiot for losing such a strong and brilliant employee.” Chenle spoke as if he was stating the obvious. “Now you can find a place that knows and appreciates your value.”

You soaked in your boyfriend’s words, ultimately knowing he was right. No matter how much you hated yourself, you had to admit that these past months have contributed to your declining mental health.

“Thank you…for saying that and being by my side,” You sniffed a few minutes later. “What would I do without you?”

A snarky comment was on the tip of Chenle’s tongue. But he held back, knowing that’s not what you needed right now. He stared intensely into your eyes for a moment before placing a kiss on your forehead. Shortly after, he’d move down to your lips. You felt his warm lips brush against yours in light, heart-fluttering pecks. Until the sixth one, where he properly connected your lips into one long and slow kiss.

These intimate moments with Chenle were rare. But when you did share them, you felt closer to the singer than you were before. The two of you were able to communicate in a way that was almost telepathy. Chenle had become an expert in reading the emotions you weren’t even aware of. Perhaps, this was one of the reasons you and him were so compatible.

The rest of the evening turned into an unofficial binge-watching k-dramas date. That was how you two woke up the next morning being in the comfort of each other’s arms.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

#nct dream #nct dream imagines #zhong chenle #chenle imagines #chenle scenarios #chenle x reader #nct dream fic #dreamies #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nctzen #nct zhong chenle #czennie

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omgcatboi · 1 year

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what made you want to get fat? Plus, seing your strting weight and all, my ass wants B&A

Oops! I already posted before and Afters 😅 any befores I have left just show my face 😟 I know you sent this before I posted them. But because of my mental issues it's hard for me to keep up with asks like I'd prefer.

but I can tell ya what made me fat !!

Living in the most obease state in the most obease country in the world! That's right, southern Mississippi made me wanna be fat !!

As a super fit person, I had been wanting to get fat for a while. Because I always wanted to be massive ! But I held back on it because I was worried I'd disappoint everyone around me. But once I got another taste of that sweet Creole down the bayou soul food that was it!! The food from my childhood was back, and just like my childhood, it started packing pounds onto me.

I started engorging on dishes, then I learned to cook the way they cook in the deep south. It's in my blood, after all. So I ended up cooking food so damn good that I couldn't stop no matter how full I was ! Everyone around me loved my cookin', too. We rarely had left overs.

Here's a glimpse of how I cook, these are seasoned pork chops that I seared in apple pie moonshine !!

Yes there's a bite missing man it's hard not to eat my cookin' before taking pics !! It's why I don't have many pictures 😂

Anyway, that's what made me wanna be fat !! Good food and also I find fat bodies so so SO cute and attractive. I love being fat.

#fatty #fatty answers

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satocidal · 7 months

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I'm studying social work so I kind of mix law, sociology and psychology 😅 this is why I'm the way I am, ig

And like, I'm really sorry for the toxic things that happened to your friend.

Yet, as someone who's got friends with toxic things happening in their life and who had toxic things happening in my own life, I also have to say some people are not 'ready to be helped'.

Some people will not see you for your worth. That doesn't make you less worthy, it just means you two simply don't fit.

And while a lot of one's behaviors are influenced by how they grew and their mental state, it is also not your duty to help them "escape" those. Especially when they don't willingly try to help in those things that are actually their problem.

For example, I was really depressed in my middle school years. I had a lot going on and all that. Everything was a mess and in shambles.

BUT

When my bestie came into my life and started talking to me, I started making progress because I /wanted/ to get better.

And I'm not saying there aren't moments when I fail and revert back to bad habits. But actively trying is a form of accepting a helping hand and being thankful.

It's the "my trauma/mental state does not excuse my behavior, it just explains it"

If my apartment is messy my explanation is I wasn't in a good mental state and it reflected in my surroundings and all, but it's not an excuse for the apartment being messy. That one is legitimately and exclusively my fault.

My bestie offering help is welcomed, but I do not sit and watch while she does it for me because she doesn't have to clean after me. I have to do something too. To help, at least. Even if it's in another form such as teaching her to make pancakes and offer her the patience her mother didn't have to teach her how to do it.

People will say friendships are selfless. And they are, in the sense that one shall not expect instant gratification for an act of pure heart.

But they're not /free/. Because you "pay" with something else. Sometimes it's your time and all.

So yeah

Don't let even your own brain make you believe you're in wrong for possibly letting go of someone who doesn't try to keep you 🥺

~🦊

Answer under cut<3

I mean I do get you, I really do but then how do i put it? Like I just…idk, I just deal with things in a sense that it’ll pass. Like issues with firmed or whatever happen and my thoughts ar just- no matter, not like these friendships would last a lifetime and it shows that they won’t. And I know this is very very toxic a thinking but idk it’s just how I cope now.

I’ve never had emotional,y detaching from things so I’m afraid that if I decide I want to, it’ll be done with so quick. And it makes afraid because i feel like no one has ever understood me like she does but then at the same time, i don’t want to open up anymore because she doesn’t want to hear stuff probably at all.

But that’s that- idk.

#from.🦊baby #☼࿐𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠→

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celiaelise · 2 years

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Just remembering the time I was like having a breakdown or whatever in my dorm room because as usual I had like 4 hours to figure out how to not fail one of my classes with an assignment that I hadn't even started yet. I think I was doing things like pacing around and laying on the floor.

Anyway, for whatever reason, I was running through ALL my life problems or concerns or whatever in my head. I might have even been making a physical list. I like to make lists to help me prioritize when I'm stressed. It helps like 50% of the time, probably.

And I REMEMBER THINKING, "also I might be gay, not ace. I think I might like *******," and that was like mentally catalogued in my little list. Like, "Do assignment A. Do assignment B. Send an email. Figure out if I'm gay and if I have a crush on my friend/study partner." I think I actually did write her name down on a list somewhere.

But I was LITERALLY like, "okay but I don't have time for that right now because I have to do this FUCKING assignment." (It was a really stupid assignment. Also that ended up being the only class I passed that semester. Not because of that project though, just because I'm good at art.) And then I went on identifying as ace for several more years, like, at least two more years after I left school.

And the thing is, I'm pretty sure there was kind of a thing between me and this girl? But I literally did not reflect on it and fully realize for years. So, like, academia kind of ruined my gay awakening, and that sucks.

I'm not certain, because of course neither of us said anything directly. But we spent a LOT of late nights and all-nighters studying for linear algebra together. We would spend all night doing mathematical proofs or whatever, and then walk over to the dining hall together when it opened to have breakfast. She was much taller than me, but would always noticing if she was outpacing me, and make a point to apologize and adjust her stride. (I have tiny little legs.)

I went back up to see all my school friends for my birthday the summer after that class. We all met up at Main Event to spend the evening there, and when we left, she and I knew there was no guarantee we'd see each other again. She was transferring to a school in another state for the next year. And, ugh, I don't know how to say this without sounding cheesy?? But we just kind of had a long nice hug when we said goodbye. And I may have imagined it, but I got the sense that it was a little awkward for my other friends, that they didn't quite get what was happening. (I think perhaps because she was not usually particularly affectionate?) I remember that not bothering me, though, cause I felt like she and I had an understanding, which was what mattered in that moment.

but, BUT, she also TOLD ME ABOUT HER BOYFRIEND? But in literally the most minimal way possible. She was studying abroad from literally the other side of the world, which is where he was. I remember she showed me where he lived on a map of her hometown, likely not realizing that a quick glance at a map means literally nothing to me.

(We were actually always doing that; sharing our interests and experiences with each other even though there was almost NO overlap, but enjoying it anyway. She was an accounting major! I let her tell me about the stock market!!! And she was so confused every time I talked to her about art 😅)

Anyway, she told me she had a boyfriend, showed me where he lived, and told me LITERALLY nothing else about him. Not his name, not how they met, how long they'd been dating, nothing. I think maybe she only told me because she was just pointing out places she knew in her city? I know she indicated her parent's home and her high school as well. And that was the only time she ever mentioned him. She video called her parents every week, (I was often nearby) but never seemed to keep in touch with him.

Anyway, whatever that was, she does have a husband now. Not the guy from back home, an American. I've actually met him, and he seems very nice! We met up a few years ago, before they got married, when she came back to Texas for a week, and I spent the evening with the two of them. They seem really happy.

And I'm not broken up over the loss of her, though I do still think she's very cool, especially for an accounting major. But it does kind of bother me that I probably missed out on a chance to a explore a part of me that I still haven't yet. And it also bothers me that I don't know for sure what potential was there. Not enough to ask her about it, though! 😅 We're friends on facebook, but we definitely haven't kept in touch, and it would be a very awkward conversation. I don't think she even officially knows I'm gay? How do you even ask something like that?? (I mean, I'm sure those more socially savvy than I could manage no problem, but I still sometimes have to spend shifts figuring out what words to say to customers, so, like.)

(Like, "hey, I know you're married, congrats btw, he seems great. But, well, I know now that I'm a lesbian, and I think I might've had a crush on you? Is it possible that you may have had a crush on me?? No worries if not, obviously it would not work between us now either way, because, you know. Husband, you live in the Northeast, so many reasons. I swear I'm not trying to come onto you. Anyway, hope you're well. 😬")

But, like, not just her. The whole time I was in college. I think, even more than homophobia, struggling to wrangle my mental illnesses into the confines of academia took that exploratory time away from me. I couldn't focus on getting to know myself because I was struggling to make it from day to day.

And I know I still have plenty of time, and I'm honestly not particularly concerned about it, and I would never assert that you have to be in college or your early twenties to discover your sexuality. But I am just a little sad for the possibilities that were lost.

#i guess this can be like a pride month post??#just wanted to get it out bc something else reminded me #and it ended up being way longer than i thought!#pride 2022 #actually lesbian #lesbian awakening #idfk lol #college #university #anxiety #my life #my feelings #by elise #lgbt #lgbtq #also if you're wondering linear algebra kind of sucks and is very difficult! but is also kind of satisfying bc of the logic?#but mostly it's hard lol

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abysscronica · 2 years

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Heyy thanks for clarifying on day 26! I did have another question about his characterization and your take on Kidd’s mental and psyche as well. I noticed in one of your previous answers you said that Kidd and his crew thinks of birdie as “kidd’s stuff.” In that sense could Kidd be unable to legitimately bond with people beyond seeing them as his tools or property? Because I also saw in your Emperor’s story that even Law sees that his mom is treated like an object, so this aspect of Kidd never gets resolved, and his possessiveness over Killer can also be seen as Kidd viewing him as his object/property rather than as a person and that’s why he hates that he got married so much. Like sees him as his partner, but doesn’t accept/acknowledge Killer as a being outside of their partnership basically. Idk if it’d be narcissism or something similar, maybe ASPD/socio/psychopathy, but basically do you think that Kidd has one of those disorders, or lacks the ability to genuinely care about/love those close to him and not be about ownership and pride? For example when he sees that Law’s hurt and tries to hide with sarcasm, and “feels bad;” is that feeling because he wants to keep Law around and is afraid he’ll hate him and leave, or because he “cares” and wants Law to be happy? If so it makes the story incredibly heartbreaking imo but realistic, as birdie deserves better but just accepts the situation, and it reflects dv situations where victims never leave for various reasons.

Just realized that letting birdie go at the end kind of counters this but it has been something that is bugging me about his characterization; not that it’s bad at all lol I think I’m just confused and looking too deep in this xD and sorry that this is so long. I didn’t exactly know how to explain what I mean, so if it doesn’t make much sense I’m sorry 😅

Hey! Sorry it took so long! 😩

Okay, first of all I need to state that I am not a psychologist, nor did I study the subject. I only have a very superficial knowledge of the disorders you mentioned (and I'm sure there are others that may be ascribable to the situation), so I wouldn't dare to assign any of these to characters I write, not without the proper research on the matter first. I characterize Kid, and all the other One Piece characters I include in my stories, just through the observation of their demeanor upon reading the manga, and I follow through based on the interpretation that forms in my mind as a result. Most of the time I do not sit down and outline the story, instead I create a situation and I let the characters act as they please according to their personality. I hope this makes sense to you? It's hard to explain.

Now, coming to your actual question: no, I do not think Kid only views his loved ones as objects. Especially not Killer, whom I'm sure he deeply admires since he was very young. Sure, he's possessive with some of his closest people; yes, he longs to be the center of their world, but he does not wish to force them into something they don't desire. As you said, you have the ultimate proof at the end of Captive: he lets birdie go exactly because he couldn't think of another way to break the power dynamics that took form between them. That is the very opposite of viewing her as an object or his property, on the contrary, it's precisely the toxic relationship that he's trying to escape. If you read through the lines, at the end of the book, it's birdie (not Kid) who's willing to settle for such dynamic, and he's the one who refuses because he wants her feelings to be authentic. Kid puts her wellbeing (or what he perceives as such) above his needs.

The relational patterns in Emperors are probably a little more difficult to piece together at times, mainly because there's a prominent time skip and we don't see how the relationship between Kid and birdie evolves through the years. Being his woman, Kid does view birdie as "his", in the sense that they are in a very exclusive relationship, a jealous one where either partner cannot even look at someone else. And it should be stressed that this goes both ways. Birdie is no better than Kid, she just has more self control. They are aware of it and they accept it (they get off to it, even). But should either of them express the desire to leave, the other would never try to prevent it by acting against their will. They want to be together as long as they're both in love. There's something else I can add to their relationship, which I wrote through the lines (but not too much really). Birdie is slightly masochist, or a "sub" if you will (she can be a switch). Kid is obviously a sadist, so they pair well together. Over the years, they learned to read each other to the faintest signs. This is a key you can use to read the scene in Emperors where Kid hurts birdie's hand. They both needed a cathartic punishment for what happened, Kid to inflict and birdie to receive, so they could move on and leave it in the past. Whether this relationship is unhealthy, toxic, and to what extent, I leave it to the reader to decide. Everyone can bring their own moral compass to the table and read it as they prefer.

Killer is a very different matter, of course. The fact that he accepted Kid as a captain doesn't take away from his own personality and needs, and it seems that Kid never questioned it. For example, Killer's own insecurity (maybe even self-loathe) pushed him to wear a mask all the time. I'm sure Kid isn't a big fan of this idea, but he lets his mate do his thing. At Sabaody, when we are first introduced to the crew, Killer was walking around causing ruckus by himself, and Kid was nowhere to be seen. More than "his stuff", I think Kid views Killer as a staple of his adventure (life?) since the beginning. Add his natural possessiveness into the mix (I'd never deny that he is in fact a possessive man), and you see that he'll naturally treat as antagonizing whatever threatens to divide them, like Killer's wedding. He just needs time to realize that Killer isn't going anywhere and adjust to the new routine.

This post is becoming quite long so I'll quickly wrap it up by saying that, in my mind, Kid just wants his children to be happy. You're gonna see that distance is going to do quite good for him and Law.

I hope this replies to your question. If not, feel free to drop another one for further clarification!

#eustass kid #eustass kid characterization #captive #eustass kid x birdie #tw toxic relationship #character concept #kid pirates #killer #one piece #fanfiction

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breelandwalker · 2 years

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Hi (twitchty96 is my side blog 😅)! I wanted to thank you so much for your advise and wisdom. As well as ask you ask you a question. You can choose not to answer that’s ok :3. I was wondering about how different energies affect charms and spells? Do I need to stay in a positive head space in order to get positive effects from a charm or spell? Or do I just need to trust myself? I see so many different ways to try things and being a first generation baby witch it’s so easy to feel swept away in it all.

Sorry for the long question I just feel like I need a little help. 🥺

Good question!

A lot of witches do believe that holding oneself in a particular mindset can affect the outcome of a spell. I've only ever found that to be true in the case of a distracted or unsteady mindset, as in getting interrupted during a casting or having too many distractions in the area or just not being into to settle myself down enough to focus on what I'm doing. When that happens, I usually clear the area of distractions and start over, or I just scrap the spell and try again some other time.

I think too much emphasis is placed on "remaining in a positive headspace" the majority of the time. For one thing, it's impossible. Even equilibrium is difficult to maintain. Emotion and mental state don't work like that. Everybody has ups and downs, it's perfectly natural.

There are fragments of this Law-of-Attraction nonsense drifting around the witchcraft community which insist that we attract what we think about, that our thoughts influence our surroundings and attract matching energy in people and circumstances, whether we want them to or not. (If you ask me, it sounds a lot like leftover post-Catholic "wages of sin" guilt tripping.) The most innocuous form of this is the Good Vibes Only meme - another impossibility. But I digress.

In my experience, it's not necessary to maintain a "positive" headspace in order to cast spells, if by "positive" one means "happy and upbeat and optimistic." What I do find helpful is conviction. A simple matter-of-fact resolution that you can Do The Thing, that you are going to Do The Thing, and whether it works or not, it will be a learning experience.

So yes, definitely believe in yourself. Try to get all your second-guessing out of the way before you begin casting your spell so that you can be present in the moment and properly focused on what you're doing, rather than nagging doubts. And it's fine to second-guess things after you're done, as well. Plenty of us do it, especially when spells take a while to manifest or don't end up working the way we'd hoped. The important thing is to learn and grow, whatever the outcome, and no matter what, to believe that there is magic within you and therefore, boundless possibilities.

Hope this helps!

#twigg96 #twitchty96 #witchcraft #witchblr #Advice for Beginner Witches #baby witch #Bree answers your inquiries

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cestcirque · 2 years

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🎉 12.12.21! 🎉

In honor of one year since starting Aperture (and this lil ol’ blog 🥺) I’ve compiled some of the countless behind-the-scenes stuff I never revealed about my SMAUs

This serves no other purpose but to be a nice walk down memory lane for me and the nostalgia is sO real—LET’S GOOOO!!!

I’ll probably make another post for The Cardinal Set and link it here!

I was adamant about using my own work as visuals bc I constantly see fanart go uncredited on SMAUs (and other works of writing). 🙄 All the art in Aperture is either mine, Furudate-sensei’s, or categorized as free-use imagery

1. This is the wallpaper on Y/N’s lockscreen:

By Burnt Toast Creative, one of my favorite illustrators, who makes a ton of great wallpapers free to use (check him out!!!!)

2. All of Y/N’s studio shots are my studio shots, edited to look like the characters. Her superpower to make people comfortable in the studio is a real skill! Based on how nonplussed I was at the results of working with models who didn’t know me very well

I distinctly remember being up at 4am just for Bokuto’s hair, no regrets

3. I put in Semi’s cross necklace wherever it would be visible

4. The billboard shot. Just. The billboard shot.

The Kanji character shown is the character for light (光, “hikari”). Alisa’s logo, along w the logos for Tokyo Cosmique and Massugu! gossip tabloid were also designed by me (obvi)

5. Y/N’s argument w Akaashi in Step 23 is based on actual interactions w actual editors, and Akaashi himself has a specific IRL editor from whom I drew reference (yes, he cute but his micro-movements not so cute 🙄). The amount of Akaashi stans outraged by this was kind of hilarious 😅

6. Neither of the jars or their contents exist in my possession. Nor do the places where the photos were taken, for that matter

The flowers on the shelf were also me saying Shirabu went and got purple flowers anyway, even though he said he wouldn’t 😭💕

7. The jars sequence was (kind of) based on a true story. In college my roommates and I kept accumulating jars and used them for everything (Y/N’s vodka cran mason jar was a regular occurrence for us). About a month before the Aperture challenge, I was on the phone w one of them and we talked about how our jars were like our mental state in the pandemic—sometimes they hold iced coffee, or tiny succulents, or those homemade pickles that went a bit too sour; if you put anything in, remember you’re still in control (i.e. pursue your interests and don’t watch too much news). Of course I kept it in my head bc I’m a wRiTeR

8. The story is structured so that each setter has a “turnaround” chapter and two “love and love” chapters (which is just what I call the sweet one-on-one chapters). The turnarounds (Steps 14, 23, 24, and 25) are where Y/N sees the opposite side of each setter’s first impression, whether that be good or bad

9. Surprisingly, a lot of important details were added on the fly. Aone’s translations, specific conversations w setters… I didn’t write Step 29 until the day before I had to post it, bc I was 100% clueless as to how to resolve Kogane. The whole conversation about aperture almost never existed! In a similar vein, Akaashi’s Natsume Sōseki analogy in Step 30 was added about 3 days before it was posted, simply bc I happened to stumble upon the book

10. Y/N’s phone interface changing from dark mode to light mode in the last chapter is to this day the most poignant visual storytelling I’ve ever pulled off. And I didn’t get a single message about it. 😝 She has spent the entire story, all 31 steps, intentionally developing herself like film—it was important to me that the first and last steps indicated choice; that this was voluntary (creating an absence of light and stepping out of the dark). All the setters (whose phones are on light mode) are trying to pull her out into the light, towards them, often times before she’s ready. What’s more, realizing she’s in love w Shirabu isn’t even when she steps out of the dark—it is when she chooses to use his given name

Can you believe I posted a chapter every day for a month? I sure as hell can’t

#aperture smau #aperture extras #haikyuu smau

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seeyoudarling · 3 years

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Where is the shaman King fandom most active?

Thanks to the new anime I am into it again and read the mange once again. It hits me hard everytime…

It feels so bittersweet but also dissatisfying.

Spoiler altert

I don’t even mean the ending. It starts with the 2nd phase of the tournament. The first fights are nice… but then it gets kind of messy and sad.

I love the character interactions, the depth, the different philosophies…

And still something is missing … don’t know. Still SK gets my thoughts and emotions busy.

Another Spoiler alert…

I like that Hao becomes SK but the explanation for him to postpone his plans could have been made better (e.g. merging with the Great Spirit and losing Reishi made him more balanced mentally?).

I love there are sequels… but I’d rather follow Yoh and Anna and the known cast than the next generation. I am curious where Hao’s Followers ended up. I am curious about Opacho!

Flower of Maize sounds nice and so on but I’d rather watch Hao fulfilling his plan and feeling that it isn’t a real solution at all and him dealing with the consequences/ trying to recreate the initial state of the world with humans ?

Even for the real ending the author stated he had a time and chapter limit which makes me sad. I hope he can finish the sequels as he wishes and we get more content with the original cast.

It was stated the younger people can evolve and improve their shamanic powers but we are already involved with the OC. We got a fast forward but have a lot of questions regarding the 7 years after Hao became SK, even how it will go on, how the OC keeps the promise made to Hao.

I kind of liked the twists in the original Shaman Fight. Initially I was disappointed because the SF was so hyped up but in the end it didn’t matter. But after further reading I got the message that SK is not about fighting at all. Therefore another tournament does not feel right. Sure through fights not only shamanic powers but also philosophies clash. But… don’t know.

Btw Hao wanting to marry Anna feels so wrong as she looks like his first life mother 😅 and why shaman queen… why did he want to leave descendants behind as the asakura family always try to stop him?

And becoming shaman king ist kind of a spiritual godly state without a body… so why the search for a shaman queen 😅?

Buuut I love the Funbari Hotsprings Idea 😂😂 you have to do smth for a living, don’t you?

And I kind of hoped for adult Yoh to have a Goatee 😂😂

Okay that’s it for now xD

#shaman king #shaman king 2021 #shaman king the super star #shaman king flowers #hao asakura

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shinigamiplayroom · 3 years

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Understanding - Megumi x Itadori Angst

✨Surprise! I did a thing!✨

Incoming rambling....

This is officially my first characters only piece! Those of you that have read any of my previously posted works know that I usually write y/n fics. I'm trying to build my writing portfolio and I needed a complete sfw piece soooo here we are 😅.

Megumi and Itadori have one of my favorite dynamics and this idea just kindof happened. If this isn't your thing please feel free to scroll past this and live your life. If this IS your thing and you read it I hope you enjoy 🙃.

P.S. This is ANGSTY like straight up inspired by the canon manga/anime storyline angst (but there aren't any spoilers so if you're not caught up you're good.)

CW/TW: for the love of god there is ANGST, suicide pact mention, mild violence, very mild blood, kissing, vulgar language? can you tell i never write sfw?

A/N: Usually I post the spotify playlist that I created to pair with the fic, but I wanted to try something new. These scenes are pretty specific and i listened to certain songs when i wrote particular parts. I will add the link to the specific song for each scene as individual words. Words with links will be blue.

wc: 3k words

Itadori can’t sleep. Insomnia brought on by the string of thoughts holding his tired mind captive.

Why? Why did my grandfather tell me to save others? To be strong for the people who couldn’t…what if I’m weak? No, I know I’m weak. Even my physical strength can only take me so far. I can train, strengthen my cursed energy, and punch the living shit out of what stands in my way. But that doesn’t make up for the constant state of chaos that runs in my veins, lives in my head, takes shape in another set of eyes and mouths that speak at will.

I’ve died and come back to life at the hands of another. Watched the people I care about in pain, sinking into madness, and at what cost? Because I swallowed a finger. Because I wanted to fulfill my grandfather’s dying wish. Because I thought…I felt I could make a change. Make things better. But my failures look me in the eye and tell me it’s my fault. The blood shed, the lives lost, the bonds severing right in front of me.

Am I too stubborn to see it? To admit that behind every smile, every breath I’m able to take, there’s regret? There’s pain and no end in sight. Even my friends, the people I’ve claimed to protect, are willing to die to protect me, when all of this is a consequence of my doing. Megumi thinks that I don’t know. That even though he saved my life, his ability, his untapped potential will end him if he chooses to use it.

Does he think I wouldn’t understand? That I’m too selfish to comprehend why he would need to do that? No. It’s not me who’s selfish, it’s him. If anyone can stop this from happening, stop me from continuing to fuck up everything in my path, it’s Megumi.

He stares at the ceiling. Hands behind his head, pulling at his unruly pink strands of hair before he decides to sit up. The number of times he’s knocked on Megumi’s door in the middle of the night is past the point of bothering to keep count. But this time it’s for a different reason.

**************************************************************

Megumi can’t sleep. The chain of events confining him to his own mental prison.

Two times. No, more than that. But the number doesn’t matter. The number of times someone has died for me is too high. What is it that’s worth keeping? My ability, the ability I never asked for that’s caused so much fucking pain. Even when I thought I was strong, I thought that strength could be used for the sake of others. But I was wrong. Apparently my entire idea of what strength is, has been wrong this entire time.

Apparently sacrificing myself for everyone else is not something that signifies the strength I have. I’m not physically strong like Itadori. I always considered myself to be intelligent but currently, actually for a while now, I’ve become less sure. I have my shikigami, I can train as often as I want, but that doesn’t stop the death, the constant string of pain it seems my life is threaded with. Where is it coming from, is it me? The decisions I’ve made, the people I’ve risked my life for…are they in more danger because of me?

Megumi’s eyes squeeze shut, tossing his arm over his eyes as his fists clench.

What is it all for? Itadori’s face hovers in his mind. His perfectly stupid grin beaming at him like a fucking stream of moonlight cutting through the inky black he’s found himself sinking in. It makes Megumi’s chest ache, gritting his teeth as hot tears start to well behind his eyes. Why does he always have to try to be a hero? He doesn’t owe me anything. He hardly knows anything about me. My sister, my fuckhead of a father, Gojo, everyone that’s ever given a shit about me gets hurt. So why the fuck does he try so hard? What the fuck does he want from me? If he really gave a shit. If he really cared, he would put this shit to rest. If anyone would do it, Yuuji would.

Megumi wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, crescent moon indentations in his palm, almost breaking the skin from clenching his fists. He sits up, letting his bare feet touch the ground, imagining the look on Yuuji’s face when he’s the one knocking on his door. It’s always been Yuuji that padded down the hallway, a soft couple of raps against the wooden door pulling a smirk across Megumi’s lips as he got out of bed to let him in.

This was when Megumi was a witness to the side of Itadori he buried. The weight of everything crashing down on him in the dead of night and they had that understanding. That deeper knowledge that as much as they fought, clawed, bled for redemption during the day. They only ever found sanctuary with each other. Megumi never voiced his pain to him but he didn’t have to, their common ground found in conversation about anything else, in the presence of the other, in the rhythmic breaths of one of them finally slipping off to sleep.

Megumi knew Yuuji would understand.

**************************************************************

Itadori’s door flew open before Megumi could even knock. His eyes wide at the sight of Megumi’s tearstained face.

“Megumi? What-“

“Itadori, I need you to do something for me,” Megumi cuts him off, he needs Itadori to listen. If he lets him ask any questions beforehand, he’d be forced to think about his decision, and Megumi didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to think about anything anymore.

Itadori searches the raven haired boy’s face, the moonlight whispering through the window behind him, illuminating his red rimmed eyes, shadowed by dark circles that signify he hasn’t slept. He notices his jaw clenching, making the hard lines of his face even more prominent. Something’s wrong. Itadori looks up to meet Megumi’s gaze, reading him before stepping aside, watching as he moves past to stand in the center of the dimly lit room. The conversation he was going to have with him will have to wait, the tightness in his chest growing as he notes the grim line on Megumi’s face, the stiffness in his body.

Something is really fucking wrong. Itadori can’t recall a time that Megumi has asked him for a favor, and he definitely can’t recall a time Megumi has knocked on his door in the middle of the night. It’s usually him that makes the trip down the hall on sleepless nights, Megumi’s presence usually enough to keep his restlessness at bay. Was I being selfish coming to him for help? Never thinking about what he might be feeling? Itadori’s thoughts pull him in every direction, fraying the edges of the thin thread that’s barely holding him together.

He closes the door behind him, keeping his eyes on Megumi the entire time, looking for something, anything that would tell him this would be something he could fix. Whatever he’s feeling right now, is bringing a side of him to the surface Itadori hasn’t seen before tonight. He walks toward him, his focus fully encapsulated on Megumi’s movements, his tense shoulders, blue eyes cast towards the floor. Why won’t he look at me?

Itadori opens his mouth to speak, to ask him what’s wrong, what he can do to help, but Megumi’s voice stops him.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Itadori’s brow furrows, Megumi’s words sending a wave of confusion through him, his response flying past his lips without thinking.

“Look at you like what?” He asks, the air around him getting thicker, his body tightening in preparation for what Megumi is about to say.

“Like you think you can save me,” Megumi says, turning his head away from where Itadori stood, as if the possibility of seeing his face would make him break.

“What are you talking about…” Itadori starts, taking a step forward to erase the space between them. Megumi’s face, he needed to see his face; panic begins its slow burn in his gut as he came closer. What the fuck is he saying right now?

He barely gets within arms reach of him before Megumi’s slender hand is on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “Listen to me,” Megumi mutters, his voice steady and low as his fingers grip tighter onto Itadori’s shoulder. His head hangs between them, keeping his face out of Itadori’s view.

It’s getting harder to breathe, Itadori’s skin prickling with fear from all the possibilities that could occur within the next few moments. He wants to know, he needs to know what Megumi is thinking right now. Megumi has always been more distant, always focusing their conversations on the curse living inside him, training to get stronger, never sugar coating his weaknesses to ensure Itadori had the best chance of survival. But he never divulged anything about himself, anything Itadori knew about him was discovered accidentally, and Megumi always brushed it off.

Itadori admired his strength, his honesty, his willingness to say the difficult things he needed to hear. They’d seen too much, lost too much, not to find comfort in each other, words weren’t necessary to communicate the understanding they had. Presence was enough, the warm sound of his voice during mindless, wandering conversations in the middle of the night was enough.

But this was different, Itadori could feel it in Megumi’s hand, fisting at the fabric of his shirt. He could hear it in the tightness of his voice, see it in the tears falling down his face when he finally looked up at him. The panic was no longer a slow burn, it was engulfing him. His pulse pounding in his ears as his fears were realized with Megumi’s next breath.

“Itadori, I need you...I need you to kill me.”

Itadori’s eyes widen, his lips parting as his mind goes blank. He heard what Megumi said, but he’s unable to comprehend the words in a way that makes sense. He couldn’t have heard him correctly. Itadori stares into his friends’ tear stained face, holding his cerulean gaze as he moves to grasp Megumi’s hand, still fisting the shirt at his shoulder.

“You need me….to do what?” He needed to hear it again. He needed to see Megumi’s lips form those words before he could believe he heard what he thought he heard.

Megumi’s face tightened, his jaw clenching before he turned toward him fully, his other hand flying out to grab Itadori’s other shoulder, pulling him towards him.

“You heard what I said, Itadori,” Megumi said through gritted teeth, glaring down into his amber eyes. “What do you not understand?”

As Itadori stared up at him, every thought he had before attempting to walk out of his room five minutes ago flooded his mind. How could he not see this coming? After everything that’s happened within the past few weeks, how did he not see the mask Megumi was wearing? The ocean of pain swelling underneath, threatening to consume him. Was he really so entangled in his own problems that he failed the one person he wanted to save the most? Idiot. I’m a fucking idiot. His hands drop, subconsciously clenching into fists. The anger he felt knowing he was selfish enough to want to ask Megumi to do the same thing, ravaging all that’s left of his previously calm demeanor.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” Itadori asks, barely loud enough for Megumi to hear, lowering his head as the muscles in his arms tighten. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding-”

Megumi’s voice gets louder, interrupting the shorter boy’s response as he shakes him hard at the shoulders, “Does it seem like I’m fucking joking?! Everything, everyone I care about gets hurt because of ME,” Mugumi’s voice breaks, shaking Itadori again, trying to get him to look at him so Itadori can see, he has to see his logic, he has to look him in the eye and tell him he understands. But Itadori keeps his head down as words keep pouring out of Megumi’s mouth. “I’m tired of being a pawn, of everyone around me sacrificing themselves for me. I-“

Itadori’s fist slams into Megumi’s face before he can finish, sending him staggering backwards against the wall. His eyes widen as he doubles over, reaching up to feel the blood trickling out of his mouth. Did he just…? Everything around him begins to blur.

“Why?” Megumi mutters, staring at the crimson coating on his fingertips, the familiar metallic taste of blood staining his tongue. Itadori doesn’t speak, unmoving aside from his shoulders, heaving with every breath, his knuckles blooming red already from the impact.

Megumi snaps his head up, his body moving in a flurry of rage, rushing Itadori, reaching out to grab a handful of his shirt. He crashes into him, slamming him against the wall across the room. “ANSWER ME!” Megumi screams, fisting Itadori’s shirt in both hands. The blood on his hands stains the white fabric as he stares down at the pink head of hair he’s wanted to run his hands through on so many nights.

He trusted him. He trusted him with his life. The only person on this god forsaken planet he’s ever felt this way about. So why?

“Why can’t you understand what I’m asking you?” Megumi’s voice is faltering, unraveling at the seams as he raises his voice. “You’ve been there. You’ve seen everything. If you gave a single shit about me-“

“If I gave a single shit about you, what?” Itadori looks up at Megumi, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’d fucking kill you?” He squeezes his eyes shut, forcing the tears to fall as a broken smile spreads across his face. He pushes his head back against the wall hard enough to hear the impact. Megumi watches the conflicting emotions play across Itadori’s face. Even now, in the midst of all this shit, he would give anything to make sure he smiled again.

“This is so fucking backwards,” Itadori mumbles, lifting his arm to cover his eyes. A shuddering breath rippling through him as his words caught in his throat.

Megumi’s grip loosens slightly, “What are you-“

Itadori gasps Megumi’s shirt, pulling him closer to look directly into Megumi’s eyes, “When did you get so fucking selfish?!” he screams, angry tears freely falling down his cheeks.

“I’ve always been selfish, Itadori!” Megumi screams back at him. Pulling at the boys’ shirt pushing him back against the wall, their clenched fists, the only things separating them. “How do you not see that? It’s my fault you’re here. It’s my fault you’re suffering-“

Itadori cuts him off, “You think I wouldn’t suffer without you?!” Megumi’s eyes widen at his response. “You’re supposed to kill me!” Itadori’s voice breaks, as Megumi’s lips part, he doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath. “I can’t- you can’t…” Itadori’s grip tightens against Megumi’s shirt as his voice drops, “I’m not enough…why am I not enough?.”

He pulls himself closer to Megumi’s face, searching Megumi’s eyes for an answer. He can’t do this. He can’t do this without him. He’s always known this. The day he died for him, he knew he would do it all over again if it meant Megumi would get to live. He needed him to live. All the pain he’s been through, the horror he’s witnessed, doesn’t come close to the quiet moment’s they’ve spent together, the comfort he feels when he’s with him. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t care anymore, and he realizes now, he was voicing it for the first time.

Megumi’s head drops to Itadori’s shoulder, his hands clinging to his shirt as his body is wracked with sobs, all the anguish he’s been holding onto, breaching the walls he’s carefully built throughout his lifetime. Itadori wraps his arms around him, unconsciously burying his face into Megumi’s neck, breathing him in as he holds him against his chest. Megumi’s breaths begin to steady, the feeling of Itadori’s arms around him, holding him up, as he turns his head towards him.

“You’re wrong…” he barely whispers, his breath grazing Itadori’s ear.

Itadori’s chest tightens, “What…?”

Megumi pulls back, bringing his forehead to meet Itadori’s before he speaks again.

“You are enough...you’re enough for me.”

Itadori looks up into Megumi’s eyes, deep cerulean blue washing over him, baptising himself in the feeling of heat coiling inside him. He doesn’t think, his body moves before he can stop himself, pulling Megumi into him, their lips crashing against one another. Itadori inhales, holding him against him as the warmth from Megumi’s breath melts into his mouth. He pulls away, looking up into the taller boys’ eyes, both of their lips parted, hesitating, until Megumi’s eyes drop down to Itadori’s lips, wordlessly asking for permission.

His hands travel up Itadori’s chest, his friends’ heartbeat pounding through his skin as Megumi’s fingers reach the nape of his neck. His other hand cups the side of Itadoris face, grazing against his soft pink hair, tilting his head up to meet Itadori’s hazy brown eyes before leaning down to brush his lips against Itadori’s parted mouth.

Their kiss is soft, tasting each other for the first time, salted tears, residual blood and mutual understanding. Both attempting to absorb the other's pain through touch and shared breaths and heated tongues. They kiss until they’re out of air, the room fading into nothing around them as they fall into each other’s arms, their bodies reaching the bed as they hold one another.

Megumi’s last thought before he drifts to sleep, running his hands through Itadori’s hair is a simple one.

This is enough.

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