Learning how to take structured and useful notes for understanding a course can be difficult. I spent the first three years of my graduate studies perfecting the way I took notes, to reach a result that I am satisfied with today. I am sharing my note-taking method with you, in the hope that it will inspire you and help you find your system.
I would like to make it clear that everyone has to find their own way of doing things, and not try to copy other people’s techniques if they don’t suit your way of learning. Take what you think is useful for you and put aside all the rest.
Part 1: Taking notes in class
When working on a lesson, a teacher select information from their knowledge and only retain what’s essential for you to know. This means that what your teacher tells you already is the product of a sorting of information on their part (if the course is well constructed, that is!). That is why I can only advise you to take careful note of what your professor says. I tend to write everything down, even details or what does not seem interesting at first.
Most of the time, I work on my computer, so I try to write full sentences, with as few abbreviations as possible. This makes it more pleasant to read my notes, and it helps me understanding what links were made between ideas more easily. In the end, I think the most important part is to write down all ideas, without filtering information yet.
At the end of the course, I end up with a big block of text, as shown below. I know that it is not very pleasant to look at, and that is why the second part is important.
Part 2: Reading the course at home
As I work on the computer, while rereading my course, I correct spelling mistakes and reorganize my paragraphs so that the logical development appears more clearly.
I add titles, subtitles, dashes when I feel like it’s needed (even if the teacher didn’t use title themselves).
The first sentence of my paragraph corresponds to one main idea, which the paragraph will develop. I underline it.
I put each argument in bold, so as to highlight it.
Finally, I leave examples, details and precisions in regular font.
When I have some spare time, I sometimes apply a colour code to my notes to facilitate finding information. For example, I often use purple for names, pink for key words and fundamental concepts of the course, fuchsia for names of works, light blue for phrases that I want to memorize by heart…
I’ll show you an example of what it looks like underneath :
See that, even if you don’t speak French, you can immediately spot the main ideas of the development, arguments, names and other information thanks to the way the paragraph is structured and the colour code.
Part 3: seeking additional information
I research the topic I’m studying to provide additional information (short biographies, maps, reminders or recaps of historical events). Similarly, when I mention a theory, for example, I look up the names of those who agreed with it, and the names of those who opposed it and why they opposed it.
Research can help you to take a step back from the information you already have, to see which information is genuinely essential and which is just bonus details. Then, when you start learning your course, you know what central information should be learn first before you add on details that will make your work more unique.
When I write by hand, I leave a fairly large margin on the left side of my page to add information. But most of the time, since I’m on a computer, I just add comments with the information I want in the places where it’s needed.
Et voilà !
This note-taking system is simple, but I think that’s what I like about it: it helps me stay focused in class and personalize my notes as much as possible to have original things to say in my assignments, without the aesthetics of the notes really mattering.
I hope this can inspire you a little. Thank you for reading, I wish you a great day! Do your best, as usual.
masterlist. / taglist. / any request?
synopsis. when your high school boyfriend broke your heart and destroyed your sense of self-worth, the last person you expected to mend it was some awkward scrawny gamer and his four-year-old son. video link inspo~
pairing. dlif!kenma kozume x fem!reader
word count. 4.1k
genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, dilf!Kenma, ex!Oikawa, strangers to lovers, pwp, but the plot is holding on by a thread, black-coded reader, fluff, kid fic, cheating, toxic relationship, trust issues, Harue being an Ipad kid, hurt/comfort, clothed sex, biting, spanking, spit as lube, rough sex, light choking, finger sucking, underwear ripping, unprotected sex, creampie, slight nipple play, praise kink, whiny Kenma, slight femdom at the end, mentions of pregnation, domestic vibes, eye contact, not beta'd sorry bae | — first anime piece, feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
You and Oikawa had been high school sweethearts up until the second year of college.
You were a headstrong yet deeply hopelessly romantic type of person, the type to wear their heart on their sleeve, which was probably why you had fallen hard and fast for Oikawa’s charming charisma the moment you first met during your first year of high school.
It was also the reason it took you six years to realize your boyfriend had been cheating on you with several different women behind your back since he left for college, and another year to realize he was not going to change after you had to officially let him go.
You discovered that during your relationship, you were constantly competing with other women who were just better than you at holding his attention.
Starting with transferring universities just so that you two could spend more time together, hoping that without the distance, he would pay you more mind or even fully pay the rent to your shared apartment in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he would come back home to you at night.
You had fallen to rock bottom trying to rekindle that light that you two once shared together, holding onto the dearest memories hoping that he would see how hard you were trying to change just to please him.
To no avail, the night you came home early during your lunch break to find him in your bed with another woman had been the final nail in the coffin that buried all hopes of mending your love life.
The first thing you did was kick him out, throwing all of his shit from the balcony window, and leaving him on the curb in nothing but his underwear trying to defend himself. In the same week, you decided it was better to just drop out of college and move back in with your parents, giving up on love completely.
Leaving your bedroom only to go to work or feed yourself, you had settled nicely into the single and bitter lifestyle for merely two years. Becoming an expert at dodging your family's questions that start with that special someone.
You had to admit that you had purposely not been seeking any type of inmate relationship with anyone since your ex. Discovering the still hollowing pit in your stomach seeing pictures of Oikawa seemingly with a new, different , beautiful girl on his Instagram account every month.
You also understood that stalking your ex’s account was everything but the first step to moving on and going through acceptance, but your curiosity would just get the best of you every time you would scroll through your feed and flinch at seeing his posts.
It didn't help that while he was so busy living through his peak in adult life, you were stuck working the night shift, stocking up just to keep your side of the rent afloat.
At the prime age of twenty-one, your life felt so meaningless at the prime age of twenty-one even your parents nagged you about needing to stay out more and for better hobbies that didn't involve staying up for long periods of time with a PS4 controller in your hands.
While most women your age were out doing hot girl shit, you were trying not to get back pain from squatting down to self things. You were lucky enough to get scheduled for the night shifts, only having a minimal amount of customer interactions at the twenty-four-hour Target.
The only people that would step foot inside the store around where you worked were usually guys looking to buy condoms or high school students looking to buy snacks.
The last thing you expected to see walking down your aisle was a lone child taking a look around.
Being in the book aisle, you had half expected the kid to have taken a wrong turn trying to get to the video games section, but to your surprise, the child seemed interested in the arranged literature that was stacked in front of him.
Only being able to reach to the second shelf, standing on the tip of his shoes, reaching for a book, you couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight, side-stepping closer and grabbing it instead to help him.
"Here you go kid," just as you were about to hand the book away you froze at the bold printed title; Wine, Dine and 69 ways to get some: A Locker Room Guide to Scoring with the Beautiful Women of the World. Your smile dropped as your face fell neutral, glancing at the doe-eyed boy that came up to your hip in height in concern.
"Thank you, Unnie," he replied politely, taking the book from your hands with a slight lisp in his voice as his front teeth were missing, not being able to properly pronounce symbols yet still being able to shock you completely in how to handle the situation.
"Don’t you think you're a little too young to be reading something like this?" You ask him with a quirked brow.
The little boy doesn't seem to understand the oddity in his choice of literature, holding out the book with both hands as his eyes scanned over the cover, not fully able to process some of the letters before nodding his head as if he had figured out something.
"Oh, it's not for me, it's for my dad. I’m trying to help him get some." As if it were surprising enough, something about the child openly indicating that his father needed to get laid made you smack your hand over your mouth in the habit of holding back your laughter, struggling to keep your professional adult composer.
"And just where is your dad?" You had just now realized how huge and bright the kid’s eyes were, almost a golden yellow shade as they widened, turning their heads frantically looking around the isle, finally realizing that he was without his guardian.
His lip poked out, his arms crossed with the book between him. You hadn’t got much of the ocussicanal baby fever hype. The need to want a clone of yourself was not really something that you had much in mind since breaking up with Oikawa, ruining your entire perception of growing up and starting a family with some other man.
"What a dick," He spouts harshly, "He left me again." as if it weren't the first time he had to call his father out; you weren't as lucky as the last time out, backing your reaction with a small "oop." passing through your lips before you could stop it.
"How about we go find him before he starts to get worried?" You offer to take his hand and abandon your station, starting to walk down the main aisle towards one of the intercom phones.
You hadn’t even fully made your way up a different section of the store before the kid jerked his hand away, passing by the video game section, his little shoes pattering against the tiled floors before engulfing an older man that was browsing the Nintendo games in a hug. "You said you wouldn't leave me again, you liar."
"I’m not a liar; you're the one who wandered away first." The man’s eyes glance at his son, seemingly unbothered by his frantic state, even grabbing the child by the top of his head and pushing him away to grab another Nintendo controller box from the shelf.
"You're supposed to look for me. What if a bad stranger tries to kidnap me?"
"Bad strangers only kidnap cute kids," he says blandly. The child, taking huge offense to his father's teasing, his dramatic gasp, and head turn, eyeing you in disbelief, made you stiff. Having both of them notice your existence while standing just a few feet away made you stiffer still.
You watch him stiffen up, completely clearing his throat and awkwardly setting aside the controller box before picking it back up once he realized that he needed a new one.
From how easily he turned skittish, you were starting to understand why he needed a bit of help talking to women, to the point where even his son was struggling to find outside advice on how to help his dad score.
That had been your first introduction to the single father, the second time coming around that falling week when you had caught the pair during their day out.
The little boy was chewing his father out in the middle of the GameStop for murdering his Minecraft dog, so in revenge, he made him return the game entirely, claiming to be "scared for life." Then you were able to formally introduce yourself and have since formed a pretty odd relationship with the two boys.
Harue called you almost every day from Kenma’s iPad, just to tell you how his day went or ask if you wanted to come over and play games with him. Much to Kenma’s muttering protest, telling his son how you had more important things to do than come over, much to his surprise, you hadn’t.
During your first visit, you quickly realized how truly loaded Kenma was, meeting Harue outside in the lobby of the penthouse, the kid rambling the entire elevator ride up to the top floor.
It was also around that time that you found out they had been set financially for life because of Kenma’s microcelebrity status as a gaming review channel that harbored around six million subscribers as well as owning a huge percentage of big company stocks.
But despite their being extremely wealthy, the main reason you always came around was that they were genuinely charming because you thought the two had the most entertaining and most positive personalities that you've ever met.
You loved to spend time with the two, enjoying their constant bickering and debates on which game character was better than the other, which fast food place they should order dinner from that day, and even being the middleman on which sports car they should drive just to go to their local game store.
You have also learned that Kenma’s baby momma didn't even claim Harue. The two weren't even together when she showed up on Kenma’s doorstep crying about being a few months pregnant after ghosting him the night after their first date.
Once he had gotten comfortable around you, Kenma was very open about regretting having a one-night stand with the woman, but always made it clear to Harue that he would never change a thing if it meant he would end up being his dad.
As the year continued, you quickly realized the feelings you had for Kenma were more than friendly, and that fucking scared you.
But Harue, being the master matchmaker that he was (along with using his dad’s credit card to purchase dating advice books), would always set up you and Kenma to fall into some scheme that would always leave you two alone and flustered in each other's company until you had gotten tired of the whole awkward talking phase and bit the bullet, leading to a shared confession between you two.
You had to admit it was odd getting back into the dating scene, but you were also a very petty bitch and made it known to everyone that you were practically dating a millionaire.
An evil smirk would always spread across your lips. Oikawa would always be one of the first people to swipe through your Instagram stories of Kenma and you spending the night at a fancy restaurant or view your Tiktok videos of you and Harue failing to attempt some new trend online.
Your lives had changed drastically in just a year of knowing Kenma. Spending another year dating each other felt like a dream waking up next to him every day.
★ . . . !
As you continued to poke and prod at your braids, cursing yourself for thinking the thirty-inch locs were anything but practical for the poor, plain eight-dollar pack of hair scrunchies you had purchased from Target.
Some strands had managed to peek through when you were molding the bun into place on your head with two elastics. No matter how many times you huffed and leaned down, convinced you were going to pass out just trying to tuck them away.
Leaning in closer to the mirror, humming at the sight of your hairstyle, your lips pouting as you tilted your head to the side before your eyes caught sight of your boyfriend through the glass, wanting a second opinion on how you looked.
Swaying towards the bathroom's wide door frame, you gave a small pose that had caught his attention, turning away from the YouTube video that played from the flatscreen mounted across the room.
Kenma’s brow arched in confusion, his eyes gliding down your figure before meeting your eyes once more, expecting him to at least compliment you, your arms failing, gesturing towards your hair. "Does this look?"
"It looks fine." He shrugged his shoulders, his face as neutral as the first day you had first met him.
Since you two had started dating, Kenma’s walk-in closet had gone through a drastic change, his usually neutral color shades expanding to warmer and brighter colors that were still in his comfort zone.
It was like you had become his personal stylist, the way you would have to pick out his outfits for any occasion that was remotely close to formal in any way.
On the night of your anniversary, you had to convince him to take a shower and wear a dark gray sweater vest despite his claims of it making him look like a fucking nerd. You had paired it with a white collar button down that peeked from the bottom and covered the belt of his black slacks.
You could already tell he was itching to remove the layers, already yanking at the neckline of his vest and eyeing his gaming console from across the room.
In addition to trying your best to make the night as perfect as possible, you had to physically peel Harue away from his VR set with the bribe of McDonald's and make him spend the night at one of his friend's house just to secure as much time alone with Kenma as possible.
"Just fine?" you asked once more, earning a side glance from Kenma, his expression now blank as his arms crossed over his chest. You had known him long enough to understand every expression and gesture that the grown man made. You had considered it a curse at this point to be able to understand him so clearly.
"Ah!" you shout, snapping your fingers out towards him as if he were a dog caught doing something wrong. "Fix your face, you're too damn old to be whining about having to go outside." Then, you returned back into the bathroom to examine yourself once more, your fingers flattening the creases in your black cocktail dress as it stuck and shaped all of your curves perfectly.
"Now come make yourself useful and help me zip this please." Your request was quickly followed by a dramatic sigh, Kenma dragging his feet until he approached from behind you, with his hands guiding your hips still in place.
Your eyes rolled as he held eye contact through his thick lashes, teasing by biting into your shoulder. "We don’t have time for you to be kinky right now." With a hitch of your breath, you had managed to distract yourself by rummaging through your jewelry box, eyeing the different assortment of gold and silver necklaces that you thought would work well with the low cut of your dress.
Kenma didn't seem to mind your distaste, only continuing to trail small kisses up your neck, your thighs pressing together, his hand wandering down to the plump of your ass, winding his hand back and smacking it with an open palm as if he had owned it. "How do you expect me not to act up when you look so good?" he whispered in your ear, recognizing the dark gaze in his eyes.
You ignored it, holding up a single golden hoop earring to see if the design would clash with your dress as Kenma continued to fondle your ass through your dress. "You said I looked fine," you scoffed, smacking his hand away.
Kenma only chuckled, "So fucking fine," his long fingers reaching around to fondle your breast instead of guiding your hips back into his crotch, pushing against his erection. You allowed him to manhandle you into place, only sighing as you were quickly wrapped around his finger, caught in the web of his dorky charm that always left you leaning in for more.
"In fact," he hummed, using the hook of his fingers to drape the straps of your dress down your shoulders. "Let me show you how pretty I think you look." Already he had started to strip you, holding eye contact when his hand pressed against the middle of your back, bending you against the cold marble sink.
His fingers trailed under the hem of the ass, yanking it over your ass, exposing your lace panties, and looking down at you like he had unwrapped the best present ever. With the sound of his belt struggling to get loose, you couldn't help but peek at his fingers eagerly trying to shake loose from the metal belt.
The sound of your chuckling reaction makes him glare up at you, yanking the leather from the belt loops and zipping his pants to release his cock, his fingers making quick work of your lace thumb, tracing over the material against your clit before hooking them to the side and tearing them. "My bad," he says half-heartedly.
"I’ll buy you another pair." Spitting in his hand and lathering his length in a mix of your wet arousal thrusting himself against your lips with a breathy sigh.
His hand reaches out to grab around the front of your neck, forcing you to stand with your back pressed against his chest. "I want to see you." He mutters in your ear, a shiver running up your spine as he curved his thumb to tilt your head up to get a better look at your reaction in the mirror.
Your knees are almost bucking into the counter, smacking a hand against the surface to keep yourself from falling forward from the feeling of his fingers spreading apart your lips to press his cock inside of you with little to no ease.
His pace started off mercifully, as with every thrust you chased after the feeling of being stuffed so fully, "so pretty ___," Kenma sighs, his fingers pushing past your lips and into your mouth, your tongue instantly wrapping around the digit as his rhythm sped up into deeper strokes.
The squelching noises and the sound of skin on skin echo through the bathroom. Every thrust Kenma had to hold as you felt light-headed every time the head of his cock would rub against the spot that made all your muscles feel like jelly.
Practically an expert at knowing every nook and cranny of your body, "Ken, just like that–" you whine around his finger. He only replied in a low hum, his eyes focused on your body, entirely convinced that he had known your body more than you did from the way he would leave you feeling dizzy and your legs wobbling from an orgasm.
His hands let you go free as you slumped against the counter in the new position. Kenma raises your thigh up by the hook of your knee to angle himself inside deeper, his fingers leaving an indent in the plush of your skin.
Even before you two were comfortable with having sex, he would always be too touchy. His fingers played with the bud of your nipples, grinding against you while spooning and even forcing you to crawl into his lap whenever you made out.
Much to Harue’s disgust, he walked in many times just trying to find where you had run off to, only to see his dad with his tongue down your throat.
To Harue’s luck, you had a strict "no sex while the kid is around" rule to keep any embarrassing and potentially scary childhood memories from forming at a young age.
But you had somehow gotten the worst end of the stick. His son seemed to have gotten the same homebody trait when he was always stuck in the home office with his private tutor.
After he had completed all his work, he never seemed to show any interest in leaving the comfort of his gaming setup. Kenma was left high and dry, usually for weeks until Harue’s friends would invite him over. Kenma suspected that their partners had caught on to his suffering and were practically throwing his son out when they came to pick him up.
He would always make up for the time that you two would spend alone together, eating you out to the point where you had been begging to take a break from how sensitive your cunt was, or making it a goal to fuck on every surface around the house that he possibly could.
"Shit," Kenma yanked the material of your dress away from your ass, his fingers spreading you apart to get the mouthwatering view of his cock sucked in, his length covered in a creamy white coat from your arousal.
His controlled pace makes your thigh tremble, "you look so gorgeous like this angel." His compliments were almost tormenting from the way he had fucked even the gel from your edges, grasping onto your hips tightly as if you’d turn into putty and slip away if he weren't too careful.
"I’m so close," you plead as mascara-covered tears stream down your cheeks, the tightening feeling building in your gut.
The pleasure was unbearable as Kenma made it a point to fuck you like you were a personal sex doll custom made just for him to ruin. His name is constant on the tip of your tongue, moaning and gasping it like it was your favorite word.
Your legs were wobbly like you had just figured out how to use them, planting them both back on the floor, leaning into Kenma’s front, too preoccupied with being fucked stupid to care about how your hips were smashing into the edge of the sink with every thrust.
It wouldn't be the first time Kenma had been the reason you would find questionable bruises on your body in the morning.
Your cunt clenched at the disheveled sight of Kenma who had been completely pussy drunk, his normally pale skin now flushed a light pink hue.
His eyes squeezed tightly shut, with his canine teeth pointing from his lips as he bit in your shoulder to keep himself from whimpering out your name every time your pussy clenched around him so desperately.
Leaning in and grabbing his chin to place a kiss on his mouth, like your lips were a reward. Kenma’s tongue was already poking from his mouth into yours. His fingers naturally gravitated towards your chest, as if he had found comfort in playing with your hardened nipples.
As his thumbs ran across your hardened buds, you shivered, your cunt clenching around him in response."You make me feel so good, baby," His hands gripped tightly against your torso.
His nails dug lightly into your skin, chasing his high, nuzzling his forehead against the back of your neck as he choked on the moan that threatened to pass from his throat.
"I wanna see your face, Ken-ken," you say, even with him plowing into you. You had still managed to sound so demanding.
Kenma was quick to melt into the little obedient boyfriend that he was, revealing his hazel eyes that glistened from the threat of shredding tears from how pussy drunk he felt. "Gonna cum in me, huh—ah, wanna get me all knocked up, pretty boy?" The praise affected him as expected, and Kenma grimaced at it, even ducking his head away as if turning away would be enough to hide his flushed reaction.
With the courage of a racing horse, he had delivered one more smack against your ass, which you thought was a nice finishing touch, apparently too nice as your end tumbled out of your walls, making his hips stutter, struggling to stay in sight at the sight of your orgasm.
The marble countertops were only being used to stabilize you as Kenma tugged out of you and released you on your backside with a low grunt.
There was a moment where clarity had settled in pulling away from his hands that groped at your ass. "I can’t believe your socially awkward ass just fucked me to get out of going to dinner." You hunched over the counter, trying to catch your breath as Kenma wiped your behind clean with a piece of tissue.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! jerking off, some cock sucking, begging, praise/degrading, they are sweet but mean, smacking you with a belt, choking you with the same belt, pain kink, light size kink, overstimulation/mindbreak/dumbification, dacryphilia, daddy said three times, squirting, hints of satoru eating suguru’s cum out of you, breeding/creampie
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @devilsfavouritelamb; you prolly already know what I'm about to ask for😭😭 even though I've been crying over Satoru for days, Suguru, and especially how you write him, still has me in such a chokehold- for the 7mini celebration can I ask for Suguru (mean or sweet or both whatever you decide) with dumbification and dacryphilia? And of course, congratulations on 7k🥹🩷🌸 I'm so happy for you!!
𝟏𝟑𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Fey; I'm so so so so so so so so sorry it took this long, and it was supposed to be for 7k 🫣 this has turned to dust in my inbox with how long it’s been there. Thank you for the wait, thank you for all the support, and thank you for every kind word you have ever said to me, you deserve so much kindness sweetness
“Listen to that her cheeks are clappin’ and her sloppy cunt squechlin’. They are telling you what a good job you’re doing fuckin up her sloppy lil’ cunt.” Satoru spit on his hand, stroking his cock, and gliding his hand through fluffy white hair. His arm softly flexing.
You’re crying “Can’t! Don’t stop! Can’t cum ‘s too much!” Running away from Suguru’s thick cock, twisting your hips gliding his thick cock out. Giving your sore cunt a temporary break, they had been passing you back and forth all weekend.
You’re clawing at the sheets, thick tears trickle down your face. Holding a hand out to Satoru, he grabs your hand and kisses the back of your fingers. “Do you think I'm going to save you from Suguru’s cock? That’s cute.”
Suguru croons, “Look at that our dumb slut thinks she can run away from me.” He yanks you back to the edge of the bed. Causing Satoru to let your hand go. “You’re gonna be a good whore n’ fuckin’ take it.”
Suguru slaps your soft ass with the looped leather belt making your cheek jiggle. Satoru suggests, “Smack her harder for running away. Show her what happens to naughty slut that don't take their cocks like they’re supposed to.”
Suguru leans his head back, closing his eyes and rutting his hard thick cock into your sloppy wet cunt. Loudly groaning, “Fuuuuck! She feels sooo gooood.” Your cunt quivers when he smacks both cheeks harder, leaving them throbbing.
Satoru gets on his knees, grabbing your hair, smacking your cheek with his cock. Crooning, “What are you princess? C’mon tell your daddies what a dirty slut you are for us every night.” Satoru smears his pre-cum on your cheek.
You turn your head to suck on his beautiful cock. Swirling your tongue, moaning loudly, you soft cunt loudly sqleching. Getting getting off on feeling like such a whore with two cocks, one in your face and one ruining your sloppy cunt.
Squirting on Suguru’s thick cock, with a mouthful of cock. Your body is trembling between them, tears trickling down your face. It feels so good to be Suguru’s and Satoru’s whore.
Satoru glides his cock out of your mouth, yanking your head back, “Ya ready to take my cock next? I hope your cunt is sensitive and sore I love makin’ you cry. You look so hot sobbing and begging for more.”
Suguru answers for you, “Mnnn that it good girl make a mess on your daddy’s thick cock.” His cock throbs with a soft pulse you can feel in your sensitive cunt before he cums. It’s so warm and thick and deep in you.
Satoru smirks, “How sweet y'all made a creampie for me to eat.”
wrong - nanami thinks it’s wrong coming home to you
team - you and nanami make a good team
good - nanami’s a good father to yuji (single dad!)
spring - the morning after moving in with nanami
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。GOJO SATORU
closer - gojo and his sunglass collection (rich boy!)
attention - gojo loves attention too much (rich boy!)
handful - gojo and megumi are handfuls (single dad!)
afternoon after - waking up next to gojo (rich boy!)
silence - gojo asks what you like about him (rich boy!)
clingy - cutely annoying and clingy gojo (rich boy!)
opulence - you and gojo have your first fight (rich boy!)
4:51 AM - gojo looks happy with your baby in his arms
routine - it’s routine for gojo to talk to your baby bump
honey - gojo learns to make pancakes for you (rich boy!)
pictures on the wall - gojo makes a mess in the kitchen
finals week - gojo hates when you study (rich boy!)
proud - the first time gojo hears certain words (rich boy!)
wounded pride - gojo is just a bit jealous (rich boy!)
baby - gojo, you, his mother, and baby pics (rich boy!)
difficult - gojo is too difficult to have arguments with
the same - gojo returns home. everything’s still the same
no heart - gojo finds out his contact name (rich boy!)
meet ugly - your first encounter with gojo (rich boy!)
02:09 AM - gojo comes to your place drunk (rich boy!)
before and after - you find gojo after a bad day (rich boy!)
09:08 AM - gojo returns with scars. you think he’s pretty
security - gojo visits your job. you want to die (rich boy!)
goodbye kiss - gojo needs his kiss goodbye (rich boy!)
family secrets - gojo finds you’ve been hiding something
new people - drying gojo’s hair after a shower together
partners - gojo is not your project partner (rich boy!)
burner accounts - your ex still watch your insta story
first kiss - gojo’s first kiss is in the summer—with you
lucky - you’re always lucky gojo comes home to you
04:08 AM - you wake up gojo to confess your love
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。GETO SUGURU
privilege - you and geto grant each other privileges
3:27 am - geto confesses before your classmate can
not yet - geto isn’t ready to sleep yet
if only - geto i-steal-my-best-friends-lover suguru (sb!)
princess - nanako and mimiko do geto’s hair. you love it
tangled - you brush geto’s hair whenever he’s frustrated
strawberry flavored - geto hates the taste of curses
in your arms, i’m warmest - geto + late night cuddles
geto sensei - geto decides he’ll do things differently
kiss it better - sometimes geto still has nightmares
fatherly competition - geto, the world’s coolest dad
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。FUSHIGURO TOJI
exception - toji is one exception you might make (single dad!)
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
3:49 AM - megumi is prone to overthink
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。OKKOTSU YUTA
who else - yuta’s never been the jealous type til now
7:52 am - you and yuta’s first real morning together
he realizes he’s in love with you - toji, itadori, gojo, nanami
you stop playing with his hair - geto, gojo, nanami, toji, yuta
you don’t say i love you back - geto, gojo, nanami, megumi, itadori
you set your wallpaper as an ugly photo of him - gojo, geto, toji, itadori, megumi
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。GOJO SATORU
i know you still think about the times we had - you and gojo navigate back to each other after a break up
the dictionary definition of a rich boy - being partnered with that annoying rich guy for a project
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。GETO SUGURU
what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again) - suguru is alive after it all ends. he’s sent to you
i’m afraid that’s just the way the world works (but i think that it could work for you and me) - you and suguru navigate parenthood after two twin girls are saved
property of saetoru do not plagiarize, repost or translate onto other sites
*to the tune of mambo no. 5* ladies & gentlemen, this is Big Post #5
featuring yet another tweet of mine that I was too lazy to reformat. shout-out to @karizard-ao3 for helping me pick the hottest picture of Eren for the first one.
Watched ITSV and ATSV back to back earlier today, and there’s just… so much with expectations. I know that’s obvious, it’s a theme and focus pulled through every part of this franchise, but just… gonna garble some thoughts out.
The mural in the underground, of course, is the starting point. First it’s that dark silhouette against the blinding wall of possibility and expectation, the stifling weight of hanging and dying within the things you can’t control. It’s how Miles feels with the new school, with his dad, with everything he is told he should be. And then he gets bitten and his powers come out and he is stranger and stronger and more confused than ever before. He tears through the comic pages, seeing an origin he’s living, a story already written out of what will happen and who he’ll be, and he is scared.
He goes looking for the spider, and when he steps off the train he mirrors his painting. New rules are setting in, new stakes. He comes back to a dead spider in front of a wall of expectation, and everything falls apart.
Spiderman dies and in his final minutes tasks Miles with saving the world, with doing what he can’t, with being Spiderman. He has placed that weight on him, intentionally or not. We know Miles lives up to them in the end, but it is the struggle that guides him through the first movie, that idea of doing things right, of learning how to be a hero in the right way.
And he saves the day! He is Spiderman! But Miles does it with a leap of faith, without knowing what will happen or who he’ll be, without following the Right Way because there isn’t one. He does so with the help of other Spider people who show the breadth of who they can be, the different routes life can follow. They trust him and see him and know he can be amazing. Aaron does too. He tells Miles to keep going, to push on.
So Miles does.
And what joins that wall? What joins the mass of expectation and the world to live up to?
They do. Miles paints Gwen and Peter (B) and Aaron and Peni and Peter (Porker) and Peter (Noir). They are his universe, the legacy and life he is aspiring to bring to his world. He is filling the mask they said he can wear, the person they said he could be, those expectations, and embracing them, making them beautiful and powerful.
But they don’t live up to his expectations of them.
The spiders leave him alone, they follow Miguel’s fear and grief, they view Miles as something to manage and protect and avoid. No one comes for him. No one believes he can be anything else because they believe the path is immovable, that canon and growth are linear and set in stone, and are resigned to the fact that they can’t break from that.
But Miles does. And Miles will.
He pushes back against being in a certain role, being a certain hero, being a certain spiderman. And that’s mirrored in his opposite, in the Spot.
Spot is a black hole, the hanging body within it all. Even though he himself defies what people thought of him, becomes a threat large enough for all of them after being seen as a joke, he still, too, can’t break from the idea of predetermined fate. He believes it was all planned, all destiny, that he and Miles created each other and are meant to play out the same story that has been hammered home again and again. He is the lynch pin in bringing down the future everyone is telling Miles will happen, their future, Spot calls it. Their set, their life, their purpose.
But what they both see doesn’t show the ending.
The visions don’t show the deaths of Captain Singh and Miles’s dad. They show the lead up, the moments before, but we know Miles changed things in Mumbatten, that his whole world is being written and laid out by him.
Miles defies expectations because there aren’t any that can hold him back. He writes his own story, he drives his own canon. He is his own main character in his own movies and his own life and no one can tell him how to do that, how to be that. He is a blank page that he gets to fill with art and hope and persistent love.
It’s not about surviving suffering or being defined by struggle, being in the box people assume you’ll inhabit, that is never how it works because people are multifaceted and rich and hold an infinite amount of life and choice in everything they do.
How can you expect the unexpected? How can someone doing their own thing, doing what they think is right to the end, cave beneath the will and rightness of others?
Miles defies expectations. Miles breaks the mold. Miles pushes past the shadows covering the world of possibility and potential and never stops because no matter what, Miles Morales always gets back up.
And I don’t know if I can fully encapsulate that for what it is. Because it’s all of it. It’s being a cop, a parent, a father, a son, a daughter, a minority, an outcast. It’s the warmth of an uncle that is so clear in your memory that shifts and changes when it’s not the same man. Its a gun getting pointed at you in a time of trust. It’s a bedroom you want to see, a bed you want to know, a stability you want to come back to that isn’t there.
We expect things in our lives, from people and groups and community, and it changes. We change. Others change. Identities and pieces of life overlap and impact each other. And we can’t control that. It’s scary and frustrating, it beats you down, pushes and hurts and forces adaptation. But the only real thing that will always be present is that nothing is solid or stagnant and we shouldn’t expect it to be.
There is a multiverse of possibility out there for all of us. For everyone.
