The ‘Theseus’ Thesis

suddenly struck with thoughts about the devastating concept of Jason Todd

because he was good. because he had a bleeding heart despite every reason not to. he loved school and was good at it. he was the first to be adopted, with little pretense of guardianship. he did everything he could to be a perfect Robin and live up to an impossible ideal. he only ever wanted Bruce and Dick to like him.

because he met Bruce in the same place and on the same day that Bruce's parents died--the single defining moment of Batman's existence. and he made Batman laugh. he hit the Dark Knight, Terror of Gotham, with a tire iron. he wasn't afraid of the man who turned fear into a weapon.

because he couldn't save his mother from herself, but he tried. because he was too good not to try and save the woman who gave him up. too good to play the Joker's game. the crowbar didn't kill him, the bomb did. he died knowing he wouldn't make it and tried anyway. he died a hero.

because other Robins have died, but none of them put an irrevocable tear in the mythos of Batman. because Jason Todd always dies, in every universe. he dies for the sins of his father. he was put to death by popular vote, sacrificed by the crowd. doomed by the narrative and doomed by the audience. the boy who only ever tried to prove he was good enough--wasn't good enough.

because he has every reason to be angry. because he didn't ask to be murdered, didn't ask to be brought back, and when he did everyone acted like he was better off dead. Bruce tried to kill him and nearly succeeded. he's blamed for his own death and blamed for his resurrection. he can never come home because the house is haunted by his own ghost.

because he's been the hero, the victim, and the villain. because his family and his writers and his universe don't know what to make of him. they don't know how to look his tragedy in the eye. and how can you?

it hurts to look at the hero who cannot be good enough, the victim who will only ever be angry, the villain who can sometimes be right. the audience hates to feel complicit and, in this exceptional case, they are.

Every few years or so, I suddenly remember how amazing Princess Tutu is and I hop back on the bandwagon

There was a time when I would try and push this anime onto everyone. But since then I’ve learned that this anime isn’t for everyone just as all other anime isn’t.

However if you love ballet, music, theater, and just generally good fairy tale deconstruction storytelling, then this anime is DEFINITELY for you

who's your favourite paladin?

This special boy! :D

Alien Blues

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Enter Sandman

**Slight implication of SA (does not involve any of the characters, relates to a mission. Very, very brief mention like a single line), bad priests go night night**

...

I'll start with a simple cute fact: Each person at Jujutsu High possessed their own unique coffee mug or teacup. In the past, the school had standard uniformed cups, but everything changed during a spontaneous group outing, and it was all because of you. One morning, the boys witnessed you sipping coffee from a cup shaped like a light blue ghost cradling a tiny pumpkin in its spectral hands. Naturally, they all wanted their own versions, albeit in teacup form.

Suguru, in his typical fashion, stuck with a conventional choice. His teacup was an elegant white porcelain piece with a delicate handle, but a hidden treasure lay within its depths - two koi fish gracefully circling a water lily.

Surprisingly, even Gojo opted for a relatively straightforward option. His choice was a matte black teacup adorned with a golden rim, the sole flourish being a meticulously painted golden dragon on the porcelain. (It even came with a matching gold spoon!)

When the three of you flaunted your new cups, Haibara decided he wanted one too, promptly organizing the group to acquire cups for the remaining members.

Ieiri's selection was an enigma, a glass coffee mug adorned with intricate chemical bonds that you still can't fathom how she stumbled upon. Apparently, it was buried amidst a sea of generic mugs on a store shelf.

Kento, while initially indifferent to the entire endeavor, hastily grabbed a pumpkin-themed mug at the last moment to match yours.

Haibara, on the other hand, opted for a mug inspired by cows, where the utters of the cow formed the legs of the mug. It was absurdly whimsical, and he cherished it dearly. He proudly presented it to you and Gojo, provoking laughter from both of you, while Suguru and Kento exchanged knowing glances that silently conveyed "these fools." Meanwhile, Ieiri continued to text someone on her phone, seemingly unfazed by the mug madness.

(Side Note: You once purchased Yaga a teacup that strikingly resembled a purple flower, mainly for amusement. However, when you presented it to him, the man stood in silence. Expecting a scolding, you were taken aback when something unexpected occurred — you would never reveal this to the others, but you were certain you saw tears welling up in the older man's eyes. He thanked you before ruffling your hair and dismissing you with a resounding voice. Since that day, it remains the sole vessel from which he sips his tea. As for Ijichi, you wanted to gift him something, but he insisted he was content with the school's standard mugs.)

(Add-On: Regarding drink preferences: Suguru and Gojo both enjoy tea. Gojo takes his with four sugars, while Suguru prefers just one. Ieiri has a penchant for black coffee with a solitary sugar; sweetness isn't her preference. Kento's choice is coffee with milk and two sugars. Haibara's taste isn't exactly aligned with either option. He leans towards cold coffee with milk, three sugars, and a hint of caramel flavor.)

Initially, you had no specific plans for the day. Your mood was rather subdued, and throughout all your classes with the rest of the second years, you barely uttered a word. While this wasn't a drastic departure from your usual demeanor, the fact that you didn't react to Gojo or Suguru's inquiries raised concerns. Consequently, you found yourself seated at your desk, gazing into the distance while Yaga lectured about the intricacies of Curse history or something.

(Side Note: Since there were only four students in Second Year, there were only four desks needed. Ieiri, Suguru, and Gojos sat in the front-row, forcing your desk to be behind them. It, oftentimes, led to you feeling a bit left out. So, your dear boys, thoughtfully left a substantial gap between their desks and even inched their own tables closer to yours. It might have seemed somewhat awkward in terms of seating arrangements, but it suited them well.)

(Add-On: Ieiri's desk had been shifted nearer to the window, a change she didn't particularly favor, especially now that the sun's rays streamed directly above her. At least in the past, she had a modicum of shade to shield her from the sunlight.)

(Add-On: All your names are etched into the wooden surface of your desk. Despite this, Yaga insisted that all of you meticulously clean the classroom from floor to ceiling. However, he never instructed you to sand away the names carved into the wood.)

Once class concluded, just as the three of you were preparing to exit the room, Yaga requested that you remain behind. It was evident that he wished to discuss your peculiar behavior, but even then, you sensed that he was already aware of what was amiss.

"Tsukumo informed me about today's...significance," the older man began, uncertain of how to proceed, his fingers scratching at the back of his neck.

Narrowing your gaze at him, a touch of confusion laced your words, "I thought you already knew...?"

Shaking his head, he clarified, "Yes and no. I was aware of the... incident, but not its specific date..."

How could he proceed? Comforting wasn't his forte, and emotions weren't his strong suit. So, he opted for the next best approach.

"Here, kid. Yu suggested you might appreciate this, considering how much time you spend in his dorm ro—wait, no, that came out wrong—" You hardly paid attention to his fumbling words as your focus locked onto the verdant plushie clutched in his hands. A succulent larger than your own head. A warmth swelled within your chest, prompting a small smile to grace your lips, accompanied by a soft sigh.

You paused for a moment, your gratitude finding its voice, "Thank you, sir... I truly love it." You gently grasped the plushie, inadvertently squeezing it, relishing its comforting softness. A thought flitted through your mind about where you could possibly find room for it amidst the myriad plushies that already adorned your room.

"You're a good person, and a remarkably skilled sorcerer... though what you did is unforgivable, you're making remarkable progress. Keep that momentum going, okay?"

Nodding in agreement, you kept your gaze lowered, fixed on the green fibers of the plushie.

"Okay." He lingered in his gaze upon you for a moment before ushering you toward the door with a firm grip on your shoulders. Gojo's absence was conspicuous, but Suguru had evidently been waiting, straightening himself away from the wall he'd been leaning on.

"Look after them well, Geto," Suguru remarked, his tone carrying a sense of assurance as he reached for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder alongside his own. "Always."

Yaga's voice reached you just as you were about to exit, "Oh! And take this. It belonged to a... friend of mine. But she won't be needing it anymore. So, uh, take it." He handed you a baby blue parasol, it's design hidden for now. With that gesture, he shut the door firmly, effectively closing off their presence.

The pair found themselves in a mild state of bewilderment, though Suguru's straightforward question cut through the confusion, "What did he want?" Taking a deep breath, you made a slight expression, your steps synchronized as you made your way towards your dorm room. "He just wanted to give me this," you revealed the succulent with a subtle flourish, prompting a faint smile to appear on Suguru's lips.

"Cute," was all he said.

In due time, you arrived at your dorm room, and while you began to organize your belongings, Suguru lingered at the doorframe, observing you intently.

"Come with me," you turned towards him, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. "To where?"

You never needed to question why. After all, why ask why when your intention was clear?

An enigmatic glint flickered within his eyes, his head leaning casually against the wooden frame, a perpetually lazy smile gracing his lips, "I want you to meet my mother."

Suguru rarely delved into details about his family, but during those nights when sleep eluded you both and he sought solace in your room, he would recount stories from his childhood as you lay on your bed, gazing at the ceiling. He especially liked to speak of his mother, emphasizing her kindness.

Gazing back at the succulent resting comfortably against your pillow, a brief contemplation led you to agree to accompany him. Your consent widened his smile, and before long, the two of you were on route to the school's front gates.

You decided to bring the baby blue parasol along, providing a respite from the sun's glare, especially in the absence of Gojo's sunglasses. Unfurling the parasol, you ensured Suguru walked in the shade you provided. Your arm found its place around his, the one unoccupied, as he carried his bag over his shoulder. He emitted a soft hum as you leaned into his forest-green attire. Unbeknownst to you, the parasol's circular paper surface bore the elegant forms of two cranes, playfully dancing around each other.

"Where's our moron?" you asked, eliciting a laugh from Suguru. "He had some matters to attend to, which means you're stuck with me for the remainder of the day."

Upon hearing this, you couldn't help but snort with amusement as you rested your head against his clothed bicep.

As you leaned into Suguru's presence, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped you. The two of you began walking at a leisurely pace, the soft rustling of the blue parasol echoing the gentle rhythm of your steps.

"So, meeting your mother?" you asked, breaking the tranquil silence between you.

Suguru's expression remained calm, but a hint of nostalgia danced in his eyes. "Yeah, just figured it was time."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, knowing how much this invitation meant. "I'm honored that you'd want me to meet her, has Gojo met her yet?"

His gaze turned briefly to you, the corners of his lips lifting just a fraction. "Only from a far, when he walks me home...It's not every day I bring someone home."

You smirked, "I'll make sure not to talk about our underground drug business." He squeezed your arm in retaliation to your lame joke.

Eventually, the two of you arrived at Suguru's residence. Upon stepping inside, your eyes were drawn to the photographs adorning the walls — Suguru as a baby cradled in his father's arms, snapshots chronicling his growth over the years, and one depicting him bowing to a deer near a shrine. The charming display prompted giggles to escape you, and for a brief moment, Suguru silently observed you. Soon enough, he called out to his mother, informing her of his presence and the guest he had brought along. Her cheerful response echoed through the house as her footsteps hurried to the entrance.

(Side Note: As you began to remove your shoes, Suguru surprised you by producing a pair of slippers in your favorite color. It seemed he had thought ahead and prepared them in anticipation of your visit.)

Tiny time skip of an hour

As anticipated, Suguru's mother exhibited the same kindness that seemed to radiate from Suguru himself. Her charm was equally captivating. With a formidable personality, she openly pressed for every detail about her son's activities, all done in a playful manner. The camaraderie between the two of you flourished, culminating in a united front against Suguru, indulging in light-hearted teasing. The poor boy couldn't catch a break, especially when you shared some of your treasured pictures, including one where he was comically butting heads with Gojo, both sporting hilariously bewildered expressions.

Meanwhile, Suguru sat on the couch, legs comfortably spread manspreading only looks good on this asshole noone else so dont fucking do it, sipping his tea, and observing the scene with a contented smile adorning his lips. In the periphery of your vision, you noticed a subtle shift in the color of his soul, transitioning from a deep forest green to a lighter, more vibrant shade.

Occasionally, he half-heartedly protested the playful bullying from his two of favorite people, sporting a minor pout as he lightly glared at both of you.

(Side Note: As it turned out, Suguru conversed quite frequently about you and Gojo, though he seldom mentioned the others. Regardless, his mother expressed a genuine desire to invite both you and Gojo for dinner at some point.)

(Add-On: Suguru inherited his gift of sweet-talking from his mother, but he inherited his serenity from his father, as his mother revealed. She admitted that her relationship with Suguru's father embodied the classic trope of opposites attracting. She was the spirited, high-energy one, while her husband was the grounded, down-to-earth type of man.)

The transition is a blur, but you eventually found yourselves in Suguru's bedroom. This decision was prompted by his mother, who explained that she wished to tidy up the lower floor further, so she sent the two of you upstairs, assigning Suguru the task of entertaining you. And, like the dutiful son he was, he complied.

His room was markedly different from the one at school. This space retained remnants of the boy he used to be before being scouted for Jujutsu High. Action figures were scattered here and there, a few comic books neatly arranged, and yet the room maintained a sense of order. However, it didn't appear unused.

And then, you noticed it. Surprisingly enough, when it came to Suguru, he had a fondness for pictures documenting the trio's adventures. They adorned every inch of the room, some captured within frames, others resting on his desk, and one intriguingly placed on the bed.

Had he been contemplating it recently?

(Side Note: The photograph depicted the group gathered beneath a sprawling tree in the midst of a vast expanse of verdant fields. In the image, you and Suguru reclined against the sturdy trunk, while Gojo's body sprawled across both your laps - a snapshot capturing an instance of Gojo and Suguru engaged in their trademark banter. On your left, Haibara playfully formed bunny ears behind your head, an infectious grin lighting up his features. Positioned on Suguru's right, Ieiri rested her head against his shoulder, a mischievous smirk as she extended a raised middle finger toward the camera.)

(Add-On: It was Kento who wielded the camera, evidenced by the faint glimpse of his finger's tip visible in the bottom right corner of the frame.)

(Add-On: Ijichi was engrossed in studying for the upcoming exam to join the hangout.)

"What did you do that Yuki Tsukumo had to vouch for you?" The question instantly transported you back to that night, months ago, when you had confided a fraction of the truth to Kento after returning from an exhausting mission. In the background, Gojo had been surreptitiously listening before ushering you to rest alongside him and Suguru.

You collapsed onto the bed, your gaze fixated on the ceiling. "You were supposed to be asleep, you know?"

Suguru scoffed as he settled into his desk chair, rolling it closer to your legs and nudging your feet gently. "As if I could sleep that easily with... Just tell me."

You brought the picture close to your face, immersing yourself in memories of a bygone era - a time when you stood by Tsukumo's right and she occupied the blonde's motorcycle on her left. All three of you wore broad grins as you faced the camera. It was a snapshot your father had captured.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Gojo. He wouldn't... understand," you asserted.

Suguru quirked a well-groomed brow, his curiosity piqued. "But I would?"

You nodded, a hint of recognition in your eyes. "You have to admit... you and I are strikingly similar. Just with minor differences."

He remained silent because deep down, he knew you were right.

At this juncture, the two of you were playfully engaged in a game of footsies as you continued with your story. "I wasn't brought to Japan to become a sorcerer; I was brought here to be killed."

The game ceased abruptly.

You could sense his penetrating gaze, but you chose to ignore it.

"Last year, I kind of... snapped. Tsukumo and I were following a lead; there were reports of some minor curses killing children in a small town back in my home country. She thought it was time to let me take the lead on the case. Everything was going fine until... she wasn't supposed to be there." Even now, the memory churned up a rage within you like no other.

"Who is she?" Suguru spoke cautiously, keeping his voice steady and just above a whisper, wary of triggering any negative reaction from you.

"My sister. She, like me, was also learning the ropes. But we tried to keep her away from this world because she was so young. If only she'd listen to— No. She was just a child. What else could we have expected? It wasn't her fault." Suguru watched with a mix of confusion and surprise as you seemed to ramble to yourself, glimpsing for a moment the cracks in your being.

He may not possess your ability to peer into the depths of people's souls, but he could recognize when someone was on the verge of shattering.

"Tell me what happened," he tried to guide you back to the narrative, and it worked.

A somber cast enveloped your features, and you twisted your mouth in disgust. "There was no curse. At least, not in the way I initially assumed." The contours of your soul seemed to morph into jagged and sharp edges as you gazed upward. Your tone hovered on the brink of something that sent shivers down Suguru's spine, as he had never before witnessed you so... sardonic. "The priest of the town's church harbored this vile habit. He just couldn't keep his hands off people, particularly children. And the town... ah, they shielded him. They all knew, but did they intervene? Not at all. After all, if it's perpetrated by a man of God, how grave could it truly be?"

Straightening your posture, you perched on the edge of the bed, your shoulders hunched as you fixed a hard, glaring gaze upon your lap.

"Something in me... snapped when I realized that the curses I was exorcising were his victims." An eerie silence enveloped the room, as neither of you dared to make a sound, even though you could still hear Suguru's mother bustling about downstairs.

For the first time since the conversation began, you lifted your gaze. Suguru's eyes widened as they met the haunting, unhinged expression in your eyes.

And just as swiftly, your expression shifted into one of deep contemplation.

"...I don't know." "You don't know?" "No. One moment, they're there. And the next, all that remains are the empty shells of what they once were. Tsukumo told me I absorbed their souls, which, when I think about it, makes sense."

Perhaps it was your eyes or the way you discussed the matter so casually. Either way, Suguru found himself needing to take a deep breath before posing his next question.

"But then... what happened to your sister?"

Your expression darkened as haunting memories surged forth. You would never forget the sight of her once-vibrant red aura giving way to desaturation, sections of her outline fracturing as her soul gradually faded into oblivion.

"I didn't mean to. I swear, I didn't."

Objectively speaking, the sight of Suguru's chair bouncing back as he nearly leaped from his seat to console you was rather amusing. (He even rolled the chair closer to you. Lmaooo)

What wasn't amusing was the way he yearned to offer comfort but hesitated, unsure if you'd welcome his touch - after all this time, he still respected your boundaries. What a dear.

You chose to cradle his hand between your own, your index finger tracing the lines of his palm.

(Side Note: Ieiri was the first person to realize that the most effective way to soothe your nerves was by allowing you to play with her hands. The discovery unfolded after a grueling mission when she was tending to your injuries. Truthfully, you were somewhat her guinea pig when it came to sutures, but that's beside the point. Sensing your heightened anxiety, she offered a reassuring squeeze of your hand. To her surprise and amusement, you responded by turning her hand palm-up and tracing the lines on her palm. Ieiri shared this little revelation in secret with Gojo, who subsequently confided in Kento, who then passed it on to Suguru.)

"She just wanted to see me in action, and instead, I quite literally drained the soul from her."

Unintentionally, your nail pressed a bit too hard, drawing a drop of blood from his hand as you unconsciously squeezed it. "I didn't know what else to do... I was so desperate to fix her that I inadvertently cursed her."

...

(A/N): I think the reason why I was so late with the previous episode was because I didn't know Tsukumo's character well. The whole time I was just struggling to portray her, and even now, I'm worried I didn't portray her accurately. She's lighthearted and has her own morals and what not, but I don't know. I wish she had more screen time so that I can do it right.

With any luck, I'll be sharing one more post later this week. As the final week of August approaches, you'll be able to spot me at Ghost's concert in Florida. The flight back is so gonna kill me 🤪

Song Inspo: Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens

Song Inspo: Roommates - Malcolm Todd

Originally:

Both Suguru and Gojo were supposed to be on the other side of the classroom door, eavesdropping. I changed it so that this episode can be more Suguru-focused. I will be doing the same for Gojo in a future episode, so don't worry.

The parasol had been planned to be baby blue with pink cherry blossoms, but I opted for a more symbolic meaning.

Initially, I had associated Kento with a preference for black coffee, but upon reflection, I acknowledged that he already copes with life's hardships, making a touch of sweetness an indulgence well deserved.

"As if I could sleep that easily with... Just tell me." Is actually, "As if I could sleep that easily without you or Satoru...Just tell me."

Ijichi was meant to be the one who stumbled upon your penchant for finding solace in playing with people's hands. Originally, it was intended as an awkward memory, but I decided to revise it to create more intimate moments with Ieiri.

Similar to Suguru and Gojo, Kento prefers to synchronize with you, albeit in more understated manners. Whether viewed as a platonic bond or romantic inclination, the ultimate truth is that he holds a profound concern for you.

I don't remember what episode I wrote this in but remember that bracelet Gojo found under his pillow? I described it to have an eternity knot ---this isn't entirely accurate. It is actually a little something called a Musubi-kiri --- Once it has been tied tightly, this style of knot is particularly challenging to untie. Musubi-kiri is used for wishing for something to happen just once and not again. Like wishing for a long-lasting matrimony, where love knows no end. The choice you made, directing your gaze between the succulent and Suguru, ultimately opting for Suguru, holds a significant role in terms of its symbolism and its foreshadowing of certain outcomes --- hehehe.

Sharing a parasol often signifies a heightened level of concern and regard for the other person. Moreover, the parasol's design bears profound significance. It's believed that a crane's lifespan reaches a remarkable 1000 years, and a pair of cranes heralds a joyous marriage — a sentiment also tied to the koi fish. Similarly, I had Gojo in mind when I opted for the baby blue hue as the primary color.

My selection of a water lily was deliberate, driven by its symbolic representation of hope, while the inclusion of the purple flower conveys sentiments of respect and achievement.

The picture was taken mid-August during Episodes: Living Waters and Desert Oasis.

This episode involves major elements from previous episodes.

You hold a deep fondness for Yaga, and every Friday, you anticipate your knitting lessons with him eagerly. He's akin to a father figure in your life, and he regards you with the same warmth, seeing you as his own flesh and blood child.

Suguru's father had been at work the entire day, preventing him from meeting you. However, when he eventually returned home, Mama Geto eagerly regaled him with tales about you, much to Suguru's chagrin. She couldn't stop gushing about you the whole time!

Any soul consumed by intense emotions often displayed a fuzzy aura. The more enduring the emotion, the greater the likelihood of the aura's fragmentation. In essence, fixating on a single emotion could gradually erode one's sense of self.

This episode was originally intended to be more extensive, but I felt that leaving it with a hint of suspense might be intriguing. While I believe I've provided ample answers to some of your queries, please find contentment in that for the time being.

Sometime around mid-September, Utahime found herself assisting the faculty at her school by tidying up their offices. In one of these offices, a file labeled "October 16 - Poisoning of 2005" caught her eye.

At first, she hadn't given it much attention, but her curiosity got the best of her. Unable to resist, she opened the file and was met with a distressing sight. The scene depicted bodies heaped upon bodies, their countenances reminiscent of Edvard Munch's artwork "The Scream," yet darker and more grotesque.

Amidst a collection of newspaper clippings and official reports, a photograph caught her eye - an image of you alongside a girl who appeared to be no more than eleven years old.

She couldn't quite decipher why, but an inexplicable urge compelled her to reach out to Suguru and share her discovery.

If, at any juncture, you were to lose control once more, Yaga had been instructed to eliminate you on the spot.

Why did you want to fix her? Why not save her?

When you said 'we,' were you referring to yourself and Tsukumo, or was it someone else?

What do you mean you cursed your own sister? What precisely did you do? And where is she now?

And if Suguru was already aware, why did he choose to keep this secret from you all this time?

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a 🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

#intimacy

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 👀.

okay so i got like, three books delivered this week, and in anticipation i reread another book that i had, and lads, let me tell ye, it was like quicksand. so now i have a list, some from my head, many from my wonderful friends’ heads, of prompts that basically made us all very soft or very “pleasantly scandalized rich lady from the sixties who just found out a juicy bit of goss about the new neighbor”. i hope ye like them! (DO NOT ADD TO THE LIST. I WILL MAKE A PART TWO. AND THREE. AND FOUR. MANY MANY PARTS. EVENTUALLY. )

[ HAIR ]:          sender slowly reaches out to catch a loose strand of the receiver’s hair and tuck it gently and securely back behind their ear, letting their touch linger afterwards. (if the receiver has short hair, then the sender reaches out and gently runs their fingers through their hair to smooth it back.)

[ CLOSE ]:          while standing remarkably close to one another, the sender is unable to stop themselves from running their gaze across the receiver’s body, lingering for a moment on their lips, before returning to initiate prolonged, intense eye contact.

[ CHIN ]:          as they stand close to one another, the sender hooks a finger and tenderly lifts the receiver’s chin, tilting it up so that they can look at one another, and running a thumb across their skin lightly.

[ THUMB ]:          while cupping the receiver’s cheek in their hand, the sender slowly glides their thumb across their cheekbone in a tender, sweeping caress.

[ WOUND ]:          upon noticing a recent injury on the receiver’s person, the sender carefully moves closer, running a thumb (or hand) across the wound in a gentle, troubled manner.

[ INHALE ]:          while standing in very close quarters to the receiver, the sender shakily inhales with desire/anticipation as they realize how intimately close they are to one another.

[ DANCE ]:          when alone together (e.g. the bedroom, the kitchen, literally anywhere once they’re alone) the sender takes the receiver’s hand, and pulls them into a graceful yet intimate dance as a spontaneous act.

[ BARE ]:          as they get undressed, the sender gently places a soft, tender kiss against the receiver’s bare shoulder.

[ SCAR ]:          noticing a scar on the receiver’s skin, the sender tentatively stops them from covering it up, and rests a gentle, soft kiss over it.

[ FOREHEAD ]:          placing a hand on the back of the receiver’s neck, the sender guides them close and rests their foreheads together.

[ PALM ]:          taking the receiver’s hand, the sender brings it to their mouth, and places a tender kiss against the receiver’s palm.

[ LINGER ]:          taking the receiver’s hand, the sender lifts it to their lips, and gently kisses their knuckles, lingering for a moment before withdrawing.

[ BEHIND ]:         upon entering the same room as the receiver, the sender steps behind them, and winds their arms around the receiver’s waist, drawing them close against them.

[ WAIT ]:          realizing the receiver is about to leave the room, the sender hastily reaches out and catches their wrist, preventing them from continuing their departure.

[ ARM ]:          after holding their hand, the sender releases the receiver, but slowly glides their hand up the full length of their arm, lingering on the upper arm, then the shoulder, then resting their touch against the side of their neck.

[ HOLD ]:          while close to the receiver, the sender wordlessly takes a hold of their hand, for no other purpose than to be holding it.

[ PLAY ]:          while sitting together, the sender absently lifts the receiver’s hand, idly running their fingertips across the lines of their palms, mapping out every inch of their hand with slow, lazy touches.

[ GUIDE ]:          in the process of guiding the receiver through a crowded place, the sender’s hand protectively grazes against the small of their back

[ TOUCH ]:          while touching the receiver’s waist, the sender’s hand briefly dips beneath the hem of their shirt, skimming briefly across the bare skin of their waist.

[ CUP ]:           bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face.

[ TUG ]:          the sender tugs the receiver close against them by resting a hand against the small of their back, pulling them flush against their body.

[ HUSH ]:          while standing close to one another and hiding from pursuers, the sender reaches up and places a finger against the receiver’s lips to prevent them from speaking and revealing their location.

[ WRAP ]: when sitting astride a horse/motorcycle/etc. together, the sender reaches back, takes the receiver’s wrists, and gently pulls their arms around the sender’s waist in an embrace designed to keep the receiver safe, despite feeling remarkably intimate.

#peterparker #nwh #spiderman #tomholland #andrewgarfield #tobymaguire #theamazingspiderman #milesmorales #comics #marvel #endgame #xreader #yn

does anyone want me to write a peter parker fanfic? If so what are suggestions for one?

if only someone could hold my waist like this 🥲

I FINALLY have a contribution to the “favorite ship dynamic” discussion 😤 bonus points for Orange going apeshit if Purple gets hurt

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Palestinian banks could be cut off from the Israeli banking system starting next week following a decision by Israel’s finance minister to cease dealings between the two financial institutions, according to a report on Thursday by Israeli newspaper Haaretz. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has two days to convene a cabinet meeting to discuss reversing plans by Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich to isolate Palestinian banks from both the Israeli and international banking systems. The Palestinian economy is based on the Israeli currency, the shekel, making it reliant on ties to Israel and its financial dealings with the rest of the world must go through the Bank of Israel and Israeli banks.

We call this Apartheid.

what an icon

jason being jason pt. 1028473615526474829

Found this while scrolling through a Pinterest comment section so…