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  1. Rec *

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    Summary

    Yuuji learns that jealousy tastes kind of like lemons as it settles across his gums and stings like citric acid. I want his hands to fix me, too, Yuuji thinks. 

    In the confines of his skull, Sukuna laughs hard enough to make Yuuji’s ears ring for the next 12 hours. 

    (or: Yuuji pines; Sukuna "helps")

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    16 Sep 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    And how can anyone’s fingers be so steady? How can someone with all of the fervor, all of the white-hot rage that the universe is capable of offering also manage to be stability personified? Fushiguro’s fingers trap Yuuji’s hand, cage him in like an animal: he dabs at the blood pooling in the center of his palm, staining his heartline, his lifeline, his whatever-line in hues of stomach-sick pink. And how can anyone be so gentle with someone like Yuuji—Yuuji, who is made out of elements the scientists know they’ll never find in this corner of the universe; Yuuji, who has broken more fragile things than anyone ought to be capable of.

     

    (Yuuji, who is almost always the figurative bull in the figurative china shop: which one is he now?)

     

    His eyes don’t leave Fushiguro’s face until he feels Fushiguro’s hands pull away from his; he looks down at his palm, no longer gushing blood—and beneath the makeshift bandage fashioned from Fushiguro’s pant leg, Yuuji feels the wound close up; almost as if it was never even there. Sukuna is a bastard, no doubt about it—but he has his own particular brand of caring, and Yuuji will take what he can get.

     

    (And in the car, on the way back to the school, Fushiguro sits in the middle seat, and Yuuji sits to his left: and when Fushiguro’s pinky finger, silent and steady, wraps itself around Yuuji’s, Yuuji is certain: he is the china shop, he is the china shop, he is the china shop.)

     

    (He thinks he’d let Fushiguro shatter every last piece of ceramic if he wanted to.)

     

    this is sooooo sikenesque

  2. Rec *

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    “What unites both generations [OF ASIAN AMERICANS], Eng and Han suggest, is a kind of linguistic lack, a missing vocabulary—a paucity of stories that they might tell themselves about where they are going, and what it would mean to feel whole.”

    Kiyoomi Sakusa has spent the last seventeen years believing he is boring. He has never met anyone inclined to challenge this belief.

    Language:
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    17 Nov 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Maybe it’ll always come back to mothers.

     

    “I used to imagine that history had infused my parents’ lives with the dust of a cataclysmic explosion. That it had seeped through their skin and became part of their blood. […] But maybe being their child simply means that I will always feel the weight of their past.”

    “What has worried me since having my own child was whether I would pass along some gene for sorrow, or unintentionally inflict damage I could never undo. But when I look at my son, now ten years old, I don’t see war and loss [...]. I see a new life—bound with mine quite by coincidence—and I think maybe he can be free.”

     

    made me feel so small. wow. this was everything to me

  3. Rec 64

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    An evening of unforeseen events leads Zhongli to the doors of Doctor Baizhu of the Bubu Pharmacy, where he is offered a contract he finds himself reluctant to refuse.

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    20 Sep 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    soooooo insane

    Again, Zhongli felt a longing so cavernous opening up in his chest, it was hard to do anything but look away. He searched for Baizhu’s cane, finding it slanted against a chair. SOOOO INSANE

  4. Rec 43

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    The cicada suddenly up and took off, screaming. They both watched it disappear into the grounds.

    Kugisaki said, “Are you asking me if two people can be connected like that?”

    Fushiguro said, “Yes, I’m asking if two people can be hurt like that.”

    Another very Fushiguro response, to think those questions were the same.

    -

    or, fushiguro asks kugisaki about her cursed technique and it gets her thinking.

    Series
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    22 Nov 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    so comforting in the most non-comforting way

  5. Rec 75

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    Aki, alone. A body in his basement. Tokyo crumbling at his feet.

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    17 Nov 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    You grew up in a house with paper walls and paper doors. Your family had never seen you cry before. And then your world ended before it really began, and your life ended before you could be who you really wanted to, and you never had a backyard, or a pet goldfish, or a front door. But you woke up anyway, dragged yourself through the dirt each morning; you strapped that sword to your back even though you knew it would be the death of you someday. And you were so, so scared of being human.

    And then you died a hundred smaller deaths. And then an angel fell down from the sky and told you that your sword was a promise ring. And then he kissed you and he pulled a matching sword from between your lips. Surprise, he said, sticking his tongue between your teeth.

    I promised I’d come to see you again, didn’t I?

     

    makes me go a little insane actually