#*long posts

[mckitterick]

every time someone says, "I'll pray for you," my first thought is "thanks, but no need," but then (assuming it's someone who knows me and cares for me) I think, "I hope that helps you," but I don't actually say either of those things, because who would that help?

if I'm getting prayed at, and they tell me that's what they're doing, I just rack it up to they're thinking of me but don't know how to say that in non-proselytizing language, because that's the culture they're immersed in

now, if some rando belonging to a proselytizing religion says that or tries to use my grief or incoming baby or job search or whatever as an opportunity to try to rope me into their religion, I respond the way I would if they showed up unexpectedly at my door with their special books or whatever

I know I just restating the point of that post but respecting religious freedom will sometimes require you to respect someone's belief that religious beliefs are categorically untrue, and there are a lot of people who are unable to handle this, and even more people who think they agree with this but haven't really grappled with what it means.

[bandtrees]

curly monologue that really just cannonballs you in the chest if youv ever been in an abusive relationship

[logorrhea5mip]

Sorry for the bad photo quality, Tumblr doesn't like posts this long.

[nonbinaryriverclan]

I can’t deal with the booping feature being removed so I thought a fakepost would be neat. It’s Tumblr, but with cats.

0 notes 🤍🔁

💖 theluckypearl Follow Boop

I wish Tumpurr would remove the booping feature :/ people keep trying to boop me while I’m napping

🫘 beansjeansqueens Follow Boop

K

⌨️ averagekeyboardwalker Follow Boop

U

🏳️‍⚧️ transgenderthunderclan Follow Boop

N

‼️ bitingyoubitingyoubi Follow Boop

G

🐯 littenkitten3 Follow Boop

P

🔪 chickenstealer347 Follow Boop

A

🐭 pikachucloneno274 Follow Boop

W

💤 sleepiestscorbunny Boop

P

234 notes 🤍🔁

🔁 sleepiestscorbunny reblepped blueberrydabest

🍀 starlight--meows Follow Boop

Going viral on Tumpurr.com is so funny. It’s like meowing into the void and then approximately thirty-seven thousand other cats meow back in rapid succession

🍀 starlight--meows Boop

fuck

34,451 notes ❤️🔁

🎨 messypawss Boop

Hey everyone :3 I arted a thing! It’s not the best, I know, but at least it was fun to make!

#🖌️[ ~messy art!~ ]🖌️

8 notes - ❤️🔁

⚡️ apollwhenifeellikeit Boop

#polls #tumpurr polls #random polls #bap/paws poll #submitted by anon

342 notes 🤍🔁

🫐 blueberrydabest Boop

@sleepiestscorbunny you can’t be doing this to me /silly

💤 sleepiestscorbunny Boop

Get booped >:3

#moot tag

4 notes ❤️🔁

🔁 blueberrydabest reblepped strawberrysupremacee

anonymous asked: I am so sick and tired of felines who think liking dry food is okay whatsoever. We cats for Bast’s sake! We have standards! Blocked.

🍂 cheerycherryspring Follow Boop What if we all went outside and played for a bit

123,476 notes ❤️🔁

🔁 messypawss reblepped genderfluidwindclan

🐾 nonbinaryriverclan Follow Boop

I’m watching over a friend’s litter right now and my human was playing the Warrior Cats audiobooks in front of thr kittens and they have deemed me ‘Sunningrocks’ and are now fighting over me

🐾 nonbinaryriverclan Boop

I love them so much

#🐾[ ~messy reblogs~ ]🐾 #💨[ ~Warriors~ ]💨

102 notes ❤️🔁

😸 posting-daily-until-boop-2 Boop

posting daily until boop 2 comes out day 632

hey guys sorry that I missed the last two days I was taking a nap

#boop #boop 2 #booping #boop o meter

3 notes ❤️🔁

🔁 blueberrydabest reblepped 👾 agendershadowclan Follow Boop

I would die for him

👾 agendershadowclan Boop

SAVE TO DRAFTS SAVE TO DRAFTS—

🐝 xenogenderskyclan Boop

too late :3

👾 agendershadowclan Boop

NO

[c0njidraws]

Sentenced to a month of 'Get Along Shirt' punishment for constant fighting. It was a little too effective. Oops.

[team7-headquarter]

*open the gifs for better quality <3

Kakashi spins SO MUCH compared to Obito in their fights, but as someone who trained martial arts for many years, I get it, you know?

First of all, Kakashi loves his kicks. It puts some distance between you and your target, you can protect the upper half of your body by leaning back, a well thrown kick can send your adversary flying or staggering back, etc.

The cool part is that Kakashi uses a lot of back spinning kicks. They have more strength behind them because you use your entire body and the energy the movement creates. If you dominate the techniques and you've trained your balance so you won't get dizzy, it's almost expected to use kicking combos.

I'll try to explain?? It's a bit hard, but I want it to be easy to understand for someone who doesn't know how the kicking dynamic works.

Okay, so—

There are different parts of the foot you can use to cause different types of damage. It depends on how you're standing and from which direction you're kicking. So imagine you stand with your body facing a side and while you look ahead. Your right foot is behind and you want to kick with that one— you retract your right knee, you bring your right leg up and closer to your body, all the while your left foot starts to shift its position to look back. At the same time you extend your right leg, your left foot shifts. The movement is explosive and your body is now facing the opposite side.

You are already half spinning!

If you don't land the hit, you can always set your right foot down and keep the flow of your body to back kick with the heel or arch of your left foot. If that one kick doesn't hit, you can set your left foot down and... Kick again with your right! Now you're facing ahead again!

The best (like Kakashi) can spin without setting a foot down, basically using the movement to keep them afloat.

I'm making it all so way more simple than it is and the combinations can vary pretty drastically, but as I was saying, Kakashi is a practical fighter and he loves to use every single thing available while he fights.

The reason why he fights so elegantly is because, like in a dance, he uses the flow to move, to guide the fight, to shift the position of his own body and the position of his weapons. In comparison, Obito learned to use more of the movement and weight to counter Kakashi's fluidity.

(I ended up making a bunch of gifs for this post, oops! Better keep going!)

Anyway, I bet I don't have to mention how much Kakashi spins his weapons. There are at least six different occasions during this particular fight with Obito. He loves to spin kunais to change his grip, to exchange hands, he even sent one flying high so he got both hands free to defend himself from Obito and then proceeded to kick it midair to with his heel, so it cut Obito in the cheek.

He's practical, so every spin has a meaning. Back at his fight with Zabuza, Kakashi even used the spin with his summoning scroll to intimidate... I think (I can't remember clearly).

You can rewatch almost any Kakashi fight in the anime and compare it to this post. You'll see that he is the spinning king for a reason.

[thatsbelievable]

[kunaigirl]

Long post ahead, but I really want to talk about this...I think? Oh lord here we go, lol. Anyways, confession time!

I struggled with illiteracy and learning to read for a chunk of my life. I've mentioned it (in passing) in this post that I made about my experiences with having epilepsy, but I decided to make an whole post just for this for a change.

Somewhere around when I was in the second grade, I lost my ability to read and write due to a bad seizure I had. (That combined with the medications I was given too.) A lot of my memories are blank from that era, except for a very few instances I remember clearly. What I do remember though, has nothing to do with the seizure or even what lead up to it, all of that's still gone to this day.

I had lost my ability to read, and also was diagnosed with dyslexia during the quest to re-learn from scratch. (On top of already being diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 6.) I remember very vividly how HORRIBLE everything felt. I couldn't remember the names of things, and I had to re-learn, from preschool up, both reading and writing from scratch.

Somewhat luckily, I didn't lose anything else besides those chunks of memories and my ability to read, and I still remembered who I was, what cartoons I liked, my favorite music, etc. But suddenly, I couldn't read the CD titles anymore. I couldn't read the VHS covers. It was gone, ripped away from me very suddenly, and I knew it was missing. I knew that I already learned how to read and write, but it was forced out of me by a malfunctioning brain. I was home schooled because of it from grades 3rd-5th. (2003-2005)

In the third grade, I had made just enough progress to get books for 5 year olds. Everyone around me acted so proud, but all I could do was cry. I was humiliated. I felt so incredibly stupid, as being illiterate leaves you with no choice but to feel stupid. I threw those baby books around my room and sat on the floor crying. It wasn't fair, I didn't do anything wrong, it was my damn seizures. I had no control.

When I went back to public school for 6th grade, I got called stupid, the r-slur, illiterate, slow, basically every name in the book. Both kids and adults, all throughout those years while I continued to re-learn in real time. In middle school, my reading level was still low for my age, and I had to be in a special program with extra assistance and teacher accommodations. As soon as word got out, the kids were RELENTLESS. It was 06-07, nobody cared about bullying/etc, especially for a public middle school. The bullying never stopped.

I kept working and studying, slowly making progress. Years of struggling, learning to cope, inventing my own short-cuts to help read a little easier, using rulers and paper edges to help guide my eyes, everything. I was still in "special" classes with accommodations all through high school too. My senior year of high school, I graduated on the honor role list. Did that make me happy? It felt nice for sure, but better? Not by much. I knew how hard I still struggled, and still felt very embarrassed by it all. I'll never forget.

As a kid, the pain I felt was so intense. Physically from the seizure, and in every other way with having to re-learn how to spell t-r-e-e. Starting over with pre-K toddler books at 7. Kindergarten level at age 8, and a first grade level as a 9 year old. The feeling of having my memories ripped away just enough to leave me unable to recognize the symbols that decorated everything from posters to TV to book covers. Being told by a room full of doctors and neurologists what had happened, and being quizzed and tested to see what I still had left.

I have never forgotten those long nights. Even though I was a child, the shame and guilt and fear I felt were VERY real and very tense. And the jokes/remarks from both kids AND adults, the notebooks filled with raw squiggly anger, the uphill climb to regain what was taken from me. I will NEVER forget it. Even in college, I struggled with those heavy textbooks and their tiny fonts. I did well enough, but no one else struggled the way I did with them. I did my work and wrote my essays, but it would take full entire days. It still does.

At times, as an adult, I still get stuck on words. I can obviously read and write again, as you can see with this exact post, but it's not over. I struggle with certain fonts, and some books are just to difficult. I still work at it and still try as hard as I can even to this very goddamn day. It never truly ended, all these years later, 20 years later, I still sometimes fight to understand. I feel like an angry and humiliated kid again in those moments, but I'm not that kid or teen anymore. I lived thought it somehow.

I had a dream back when I was 17, where I'm standing in from of my 9 year old self and that pile of baby books. She's crying and looking at me, desperately. I walk over and hug her, proudly telling her "We read The Great Gatsby in high school, and we understand it."

To anyone who has struggled with illiteracy at non-toddler-points in their lives, I see you. To anyone who's struggled with reading comprehension, I see you. To anyone who struggled with writing, I see you. We don't talk about it enough, and I want to change that. I don't want to hide that side of my life experience anymore. Fuck shame, we climbed out of it.

And to this day, a copy of "The Great Gatsby" is still on my shelf. Because I read it in high school, and 9 year old me would've thought that was the coolest achievement ever.

[piosplayhouse]

Some thoughts on the narrative parallels between Scum Villain's climactic Maigu Ridge arc and TGCF's stabbing of Xie Lian + the difference in fan reaction between the two (copy pasted mostly from Twitter with quick edits) :

Some people reject the conflation of scum villain and tgcf's themes of sexual violence due to the idea that because tgcf has an explicit physical antagonist who becomes the vehicle for the idea of an aggressor and therefore can be safely vilified in a way that very blatantly subverts romanticization without much need for literary analysis. And so raises the argument that "scum villain is different because it was between the main characters", with the implication that because both characters were participants and neither of them are strictly cordoned off as an antagonistic aggressor who can be written off as indefensible that must mean the scene is intended to be romanticized or excused. But you can very obviously tell in the book that maigu ridge is not intended to be erotic, it's uncomfortable and both parties visibly hate it which is why you the reader feel so uncomfortable about reading it too.

Maigu ridge should provide a feeling of visceral and violating horror just as strong as xl's stabbing does, but it's treated with a double standard because it's explicitly rather than implicitly sexual. Sure bai wuxiang is the villain orchestrating, but he's not the one physically violating the protagonist. He instead made a bunch of innocent people hurt xl under extreme duress- which is actually exactly the same as what Maigu ridge is! A villain (xin mo/the system) forcing 2 parties into a gruesomely violating act for their own sadistic satisfaction under threat of death and destruction.

Despite the similarities in theme, tgcf is praised for "lacking" sexual content as a whole (which isn't even true if you remove the metaphorical violence-power-sex connection but besides the point) despite having very implicit scenes of sexual violence, while sv has explicit scenes that aren't really about the sex, but rather about the nuances of bodily autonomy and ironically the media glorification of sexuality as an end all be all to relationships, but are reduced to preconceived notions of what ppl think sex scenes should be (erotic and for enjoyment).

[lilac-dreamxxz]

Hello ! I will ask a huge favor 😭😭😭 but can you make a long bio/pinned pinned post for FB? I need it to be layout/emoji neutral, anything will work also ! I just need it neutral in all angles because I'm indecisive and i change layouts a lot alongside the emojis... 😭

It should look something like this:

(This started out as a bunny but i changed it)

𝜗𝜚 — ꞝ the cutest girl out of them all .ᐟ Კ

୨୧ ꜝ — 🧸 ꩜ ۫ ָ֢⠀ ⠀ ᥥ⑅ᥥ

𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓟𝓸𝓼𝓽

︶︶︶⠀⠀୨୧⠀⠀︶︶︶

ㅤ ⠀ ᥥ⑅ᥥ

ㅤㅤㅤ ⊹ㅤ ︵ 🧤 ̼ ֹ

ᨦ.⠀ Links⠀︵⠀info ꒱⠀﹗

­­ᡣ ⋅ ⋅ ᪲ა

࣪⋆་ ˖ . ︶⏝︶⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝︶⏝︶ . ˖ ་⋆ ࣪

(The dividers and emojis are familiar right? It's because it's from you 😭 i made a Tumblr account because of you just to make this request.)

I SUCK AT MAKING AAAAAAAA I'M SORRY, I'M JUST SO UNCREATIVE AND I'M BEGGING YOU 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

first of all , THANK YOU omggggg 🫶🏻🤍

what you did is already so cuteee ! i just modified it . If you want any changes please let me know !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

⠀⠀ — ꞝ the 𝖼͟𝗎͟𝗍͟𝖾͟𝗌͟𝗍 girl out of them all .ᐟ 🫶🏻

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹏ ᜔ 𓆇࣪ ˒˓ 🧸   ⃘♡⠀

ㅤ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა♡

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓟𝓸𝓼𝓽 ⺌ !!ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀࿙⃜࿚⃜࿙⃜࿚⃜ ༻𖹭༺ ࿙⃜࿚⃜࿙⃜࿚⃜

ㅤ ⠀

ㅤㅤ🌼ㅤ┊ ˳ ㅤ ֹㅤ ꯭ ꯭ ̶ ̶꯭۫ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ 𔓕ㅤ links & info. ꒱⠀﹗

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀­­ᡣ ⋅ ⋅ ᪲ა

⠀⠀⠀⠀࣪⋆་ ˖ ⏝⏝︶ ୨ ♡ ୧ ︶⏝⏝ ˖ ་⋆ ࣪

[redladydeath]

Prototype Vox headcanons because the original reblog chain was getting pretty long

Alastor goes to speak with another overlord, trying to decide whether or not he should kill them. While there, he notices that said overlord has the most fascinating little toy/pet/jester. Such novel technology… he thinks he’ll take it, whether the overlord wants him to or not!

Alastor keeps Vox around because he’s cute and entertaining. As time goes on, a legitimate friendship starts to form as Alastor realizes that Vox is far more than meets the eye— tricksy, devious, and intelligent. He learns that before he arrived in Hell, Vox was a handsome, well-respected adult man, and he isn’t too keen on constantly being mistaken for a child and treated like a joke by other sinners. A pity he has to live like that… but it’s not like there’s anything to be done for it! And Alastor must say, he’s fond of his little picture box the way he is.

With Alastor’s guidance, Vox slowly accumulates knowledge and resources and discovers that he can modify his body. He jumps on the opportunity at once— he doesn’t want to live like this anymore, and he’ll do anything to be respected (or at least taken seriously) by other people again. Alastor disapproves but holds his tongue.

Time passes, and Vox changes more and more things about himself until he’s almost unrecognizable. He and Alastor get into arguments about it. It’s galling to Vox that Alastor keeps insisting he was better off in a form he hated. Mix all this together with the modernity and “morality”/standards stuff, and you eventually get Vox and Alastor falling out.

Years later, Vox hates that he was ever that weak and can’t stand being reminded of Alastor, their old relationship, or his early life in Hell. He works hard to destroy/bury any traces of who he used to be, but Alastor is a walking, eternal reminder of the past he’d rather forget. Alastor is loathe to admit it, but he still misses his old friend. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever truly knew him at all.

---

Freshly fallen Vox seeking out an overlord’s protection because holy shit, if he tries to survive on the streets any longer, he’s gonna get killed, or worse. Most sinners get asked if they can do anything useful when they go to an overlord; Vox gets asked if he can sing, dance, and do comedy routines. He can, so he’s quickly scooped up by the overlord. He supposes he should be grateful that he was able to score a comfortable job doing something not terribly unpleasant, but the dehumanization of being treated like a doll or an adorable purse dog grates on him. He remembers who he really is (or used to be) and would do anything to be seen as a man again rather than a novelty.

---

Imagine feeling so utterly desexed by your body, finding someone you think you can trust to respect you, confessing that you’re in love with them, and they laugh in your face for thinking such a thing was even remotely possible. Alastor doesn’t do a great job clarifying that he’s disinterested in a relationship out of personal preference rather than because he doesn’t respect Vox, and Vox walks away from the encounter seething, believing that Alastor never saw him as anything more than a pet or a clown.

---

Man, this would especially suck for my hc version of Vox, who used to be a small-time Vaudevillian when he was a child. Like. Yaaaayyy, time to dance around and act cutesy for people who have complete power over you… again…… when you’re pushing forty…………

---

Vox was REALLY starting to feel like he'd made an irreversible mistake before Alastor came into his life. He'd been in the employ of his overlord for four years, and he could count the number of times he'd been allowed to leave their compound on two (four-fingered) hands. They weren't cruel to him per se, but they really did seem to see him as a pet– something to trail after them all day, do tricks on demand, and show off to colleagues at parties. Any plans he had for carving out a dignified, powerful life for himself were going up in smoke. He knew a lot of things from constantly overhearing conversations about the overlord's business, but he didn't have anyone to trade that information to because of his restricted mobility. He understood that he had some pretty unique powers, but he'd never gotten the chance to use them in combat, only to perform. It was becoming clear to Vox that the only way he was going to escape this doltish, embarrassing life was if someone killed his overlord (something he couldn't do himself due to the deal they struck).

And then the Radio Demon came walking through the door.

---

Vox really has no idea what Alastor's deal is when they first meet. Like. He kidnaps him but also says Vox can leave whenever he wants. But like. where is he supposed to go??? Alastor just killed his overlord, which, yeah, Vox wanted to happen, but now he's homeless and isn't sure how to proceed. Is it safe to stay with Alastor, or is he just going to kill him next?

Vox keeps up the "silly little cartoon" persona for a while because Alastor seems to find it amusing, but things gradually slip through the cracks. He's scared Alastor will abandon or kill him if he grows bored or dissatisfied with him, but... Alastor seems to like the real him? He actually lets him speak freely and talk about whatever he wants? He uses his tech powers to turn off the in-built censors that keep Vox from swearing?? When he realizes that Vox is actually really cunning, he wants to hear his feedback on things??? Sure, he still kinda talks down to him, but Alastor's like that with everyone. This... maybe this could be more than just trading one master for another.

---

Random thoughts about Vox’s overlord

She was enamored with him from the first moment she saw him. He was just so precious! And he was willing to do anything to receive her protection!

Her industry had nothing to do with entertainment; she took Vox in purely to be her own personal jester.

Not sure if she owned his soul or just had a deal with him to give him a safe place to live in exchange for his services.

Loved treating him like a doll. Would dress him in cute, oversized outfits, carry him around in her arms, and occasionally bring him to bed and cuddle him like some sort of plushie.

There were occasions, especially towards the beginning, when Vox would snap at her or reveal elements of his real personality. Those incidents would only lead to her doubling down on the demeaning treatment. She’d experienced mistreatment at the hands of men like him when she was alive and saw asserting her power over him as cathartic and karmic.

Usually brought him with her everywhere, but would sometimes leave him locked in her office/room by himself if she had something important scheduled. Vox had initially thought he could leave or at least walk around when she didn’t need him, but no. Besides, why would he want to leave? The streets of Hell were no place for a tiny, fragile thing like him!

Vox fucking hated her and was glad to see Alastor bash her brains in and feature her on his show.

---

Mainverse Vox died by being electrocuted by an ungrounded mic at work right before they went live. This Vox died by being electrocuted while trying to fix the family TV. His kids had been begging him to at least try to fix it since the repairman couldn’t come until the next day, and they didn’t want to miss their favorite cartoon. He was feeling indulgent that day and felt that, as the man of the house, he should be able to fix things without always calling someone else to do it for him. It didn’t end well.

---

Thinking about Vox and Alastor’s first encounter.

Alastor might have seen Vox before at an overlord event, being shown off by his boss or performing for her friends. He may have seen him for the first time when he walked into Vox’s overlord’s office and saw her toying with him. Either way, Alastor was immediately intrigued. He hadn’t seen many sinners like Vox, with his screen head and cartoony body, and could instantly tell he was a highly skilled performer. His eyes followed him, even as Vox’s overlord put him aside and ordered him to go get her and Alastor drinks. Vox could tell Alastor was watching him but wasn’t sure what to do about it. It’s probably not a good sign when the infamous Radio Demon is eying you like you’re his next meal.

Eventually, the overlord noticed that Alastor was not paying full attention to their conversation and was preoccupied with Vox. The topic briefly switched to him before Alastor inquired if she’d be willing to bargain for him. Vox was horrified. The overlord attempted to politely decline; she couldn’t bear to part with her precious little poppet. He was hers, and it would be cruel to separate them— they adored each other so much, after all. Alastor just smiled blithely and clarified: he wasn’t asking.

All hell broke loose in an instant. One moment, Vox was observing a conversation between his boss and her colleague; the next, the office was crawling with shadows, and his overlord was pinned to the wall, impaled on a tentacle. Vox panicked and tried to flee, but there was no escaping that room. There are two options for what happens next: either Vox is seized by Alastor and teleported out of the building, or Vox’s boss screams at him to help her, only for him to glance between her and Alastor and fix her with an icy stare.

No matter what happens, the outcome is the same: Vox found himself teleported onto the streets of Hell with Alastor looming over him. He frantically attempted to talk Alastor out of killing him, but Al just laughed jovially and told Vox that he had no intention of harming him. Vox was free to leave whenever he wanted, but Alastor would like to see just how entertaining he truly was.

---

As they're walking, Alastor notices a weird clicking sound coming from Vox. He asks what it is, and Vox awkwardly explains that he's wearing tap shoes and starts trying to take them off as he walks. Alastor is amused and tells him not to bother. He'd love to see him dance sometime.

---

Val: Baby? What were things like before you met me? Vox: Awesome. I had- I had women all over me, they just couldn’t get enough. Everyone was always dying to see my shows. I was voted the hottest person in Hell. It was great. Vox’s actual early career in Hell:

---

Thinking about one of the times Vox “mouthed off” to his overlord. He may be a performer, but there’s only so long he can stay in character, especially when said character is so undignified. He refused to play along with one of her little games and snapped at her that he was a man, not a fucking show dog.

Next thing Vox knew, he was nearly blinded by pain as his boss twisted his antenna nearly to its breaking point. Her voice sickeningly sweet, she told him that she knew exactly what kind of man he had been— Earth’s crawling with them. But those days are over now. Respect has to be earned in Hell; it’s not just going to be handed to him like when he was alive. The afterlife has made him a joke, and the sooner he accepts that, the happier he'll be. That’s what he signed up for when they made their little arrangement, after all. She asked if she was understood and kept twisting his antenna until she got a loud-and-clear “Yes, ma’am” out of him. With that, she snapped back to normal and either cheerfully ushered him towards [whatever she was forcing him to do] or dismissed him in her typical patronizing manner.

Vox broke half the items in his room that night in a rage. He tried to leave gouges on his skin and dents in his head, but he couldn’t manage it, what with his stupid, soft little hands.

---

It doesn’t really fit with my headcanon that Alastor was super white-passing when he was alive and spent most of his life pretending to be white in order to have more opportunities, but I feel like he may have felt a kinship with Proto-Vox due to them both being “outsiders”— people who are/were constantly dismissed by those in power and have to work twice as hard in order to be taken seriously, even though they’re more skilled and competent than everyone else in the room. And so it hurt all the more when Vox leapt at the first opportunity to change who he was in order to join the class of people who has once looked down on him. It didn’t fully click with Alastor that Vox wasn’t always like this– that he was trying to return to who he once was rather than abandoning who he’d always been.

---

Vox wasn’t exactly doing himself any favors in terms of connecting with the other sinners who worked under his overlord. He was so desperate to reestablish at least some control over his situation that, on the rare occasion he got to interact with people without his boss looming over them, he was insufferable, acting as though his position as their overlord's constant companion made him superior to regular employees. It never actually made him feel any better though, since most people either just rolled their eyes or testily reminded him that his oh-so-important job was to make a fool of himself all day and be doted on by his "owner."

---

To most outside observers, it really looked as though the relationship between Vox and his overlord was genuinely loving. She’s was just so affectionate with him. There was never a moment when she wasn’t tittering away at his jokes, or playing with his antennas or plug tail, or scooping him up into her arms or lap, or hugging or tickling or cuddling him, or covering him in kisses, or coming up with adorable pet names, or showing him off to others as though he were the rarest gem she’d ever come across. No one ever seemed to notice that Vox was never the one to initiate these kind of interactions. Depending on who you asked, it was either the most adoring master-servant arrangement Hell had ever seen, a (possibly biological?) mother-son dynamic, or just an INCREDIBLY kinky relationship. Vox played his part well, laughing along and hardly ever letting the smiling mask slip. No one ever could’ve guessed just how much he loathed her and the entire humiliating situation, or how cruel she could be whenever he dared drop the act.

Well, no one except Alastor, that is.

---

Imo, Proto Vox would just sound like normal Vox slightly pitched up, but man, Hell giving him a lisp or some other "funny" way of speaking on top of everything else would be such a gut punch for him. His good looks and his charismatic manner of speech were key to his success when he was alive, and now both of those lifelines have been severed.

---

Personal, headcanon-specific thoughts:

Proto Vox’s outfit is very similar to a costume he wore during his childhood on Vaudeville.

Alternate option: While I hc that sinners spawn naked, if they don’t, then Vox spawned in the exact 1920s sailor suit he used to wear during most of his childhood performances.

His Hell form is a punishment not only because it robs him of all dignity, but because it’s a constant reminder of a part of his life when he had no power over his situation and was treated like an object meant only to entertain.

---

Thinking about how Alastor’s “a smile is a means of maintaining control” philosophy might strike a chord with Proto Vox. When he was alive (and later, in his career as an overlord), putting on a smile was a way for him to project the person he wanted others to perceive him as. If he looked the part, then people would believe he was the confident, steady, trustworthy man he presented as. After he arrived in Hell, though, a smile became a mask he could not take off. Hell had chosen a role for him, and if he failed to play it well enough, he risked permanent death or worse. He resented having to keep that mindless grin on his face at all times. This wasn’t who he wanted to be. This wasn’t who he was. The idea that he could use that iron mask to regain control over his life was foreign to him, but it made sense. Now that he was no longer chained to a master who kept him locked into that hated role at all times, he had a choice in how he wanted to use it— for day-to-day survival or to further his true ambitions?

---

Vox and Alastor’s first encounter was at an overlord party like something out of a Regency romance, except Vox was three feet tall and didn’t notice Alastor was watching him because he was too busy performing for his boss’ overlord friends. Alastor appreciated the skill on display in Vox’s routine and was intrigued by the unusual way his “owner” treated him. Sure, some overlords treat those under them as pets, but she was so overly cutesy and “loving” with him that it stood out, especially given the way Vox feigned reciprocation. Interesting.

---

A scene/story idea: Vox is sitting at a desk in a grand, spacious office. It’s late, and he’s just killing time, wishing he had a cigar (and a mouth to smoke it with) and occasionally scribbling down notes for future reference. The stationary he’s using has the date printed at the top, though. It’s his daughter’s tenth birthday. He reflects on how it’s been three years since he last saw her and the rest of his family and how he’ll likely never see them again. He hopes his wife is throwing her an appropriately extravagant party, at least. They’d gone all-out for their son’s tenth birthday; half the neighborhood was there, even one or two of the ladies from work who had blown him in exchange for putting in a good word with the producers. It was a great time.

And then his boss comes walking in, complaining about what a stressful day she’s had, and the illusion that this is Vox’s office shatters. He hops down to the floor, taking his dance/comedy routine notes with him. His boss is busy getting herself a drink, so he hopes she didn’t notice him sitting in her chair. He starts trying to engage her in conversation, switching to his work persona (cheerful, cutesy, and childish). She did notice him, but she just smiles indulgently and says he always knows just what to do to cheer her up— he looked so silly sitting at her big, important desk. Now, she needs a bit of comfort; they’ll be going to bed now. She scoops Vox up as easily as if he were a doll and carries him off to serve as her (very angular) teddy bear. Vox keeps the adoring smile plastered on his face and tries to put aside the burning shame and rage that this is what the afterlife has reduced him to: a child, a pet, a toy meant to entertain those who wield the actual power.

---

You know, come to think of it, there’s actually some basis to Alastor feeling a bit of a kinship with Vox. Aside from the obvious shared trait of them both being communications/entertainment demons, Alastor’s demonic form is a prey animal. Al never had to deal with the consequences of having that kind of form since he spawned so powerful (unless we’re going with the theory that he made his mystery deal right when he got to Hell and draws the majority of his power from it (which would be pretty interesting in this context…)), but still.

---

Made Vox's room in the Sims

---

Vox tried to walk out of his job, once. His boss pushed him too far, and he snapped, yelling at her to find someone else to play this fucked up game with; he’d rather take his chances on the streets. Next thing he knew, he was bound, muted, and blindfolded, being crammed into a tiny suitcase. His overlord told him to reflect on what he’d said. There’s no life after second death, only nothingness. Is that really a risk he wants to take?

Vox was in “storage” for the next week. He didn’t try to leave again after that.

---

When Vox’s boss finally decided he’d had enough time to reflect, she opened the trunk to find Vox barely able to move under his own power. He was trembling like a freezing cat, having spent seven whole days bound in the fetal position, unable to move, speak, hear, or see. He couldn’t even unfurl himself from said position without her help. When she took him into her arms, he clung to her, any thoughts of hate or anger gone, replaced with a desperate desire for human connection after a week of nothingness. She cradled him in her arms— sweet as a lamb and without a shred of that odious pride she’d been working so hard to stamp out of him. Whispering kind, soothing words, she stroked his shaking, silent body as she carried him back to her bedroom. She dozed off with him in her arms, secure in the knowledge that her darling little doll had learned his lesson: being her toy is a privilege, and the only possible alternative for him is oblivion.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox and body dysmorphia

Vox hated everything about his body.

He hated being so small, not even half the size of most other sinners.

He hated his face, cute and goofy-looking. He hated his “missing tooth,” which only added to his childish appearance.

He hated his head, oversized and heavy. He hated how clumsy it made him at first, before he became accustomed to it.

He hated not having a physical mouth and being unable to eat.

He hated his voice, higher pitched than it had been when he was alive. He hated the childish-sounding lisp he had been afflicted with.

He hated how he couldn’t swear or talk about adult topics without his voice being drowned out by an in-built censor.

He hated his body and its strange combination of wood and metal, both of which bent in ways that shouldn’t’ve been possible.

He hated his hands, soft and rounded and nailless.

He hated how he had spawned without genitals, completely smooth and sexless, like a doll.

He hated how no one perceived him as anything even remotely resembling a sexual being, even though he was a fully grown man who had once had his pick of beautiful women when he was alive.

He hated how he weighed almost nothing, making him easy for others to pick up or restrain.

He hated the way nothing in Hell was built to accommodate sinners his size, forcing him to climb (or be lifted onto) things as simple as chairs.

He hated the way his boss made him dress; in baggy outfits that made his smallness even more apparent, in children’s clothes, in silly, oh-so adorable costumes. He especially hated when she insisted on dressing him herself, as if he was her doll.

He hated how often people mistook him for a child or deliberately talked down to him as though he was stupid, just because of his ridiculous body.

He hated how people laughed at him and how he had no choice but to make them laugh in order to keep himself alive.

He hated how, in one fell swoop, Hell had robbed him of everything that had made him him. His good looks, his charisma, his respectability— everything. Never in a million years would he have anticipated that this would be his punishment for his misdeeds on Earth, for looking down on others and treating them like objects to be pushed around, but he had to admit, it was a pretty potent punishment nonetheless. And he would do anything to escape it.

---

Vox’s boss was kind of massively projecting her own resentments and trauma onto him. She didn’t actually know that much about him. It was pure luck that her impression of him as an arrogant chauvinist who had treated the people in his life poorly was… you know… accurate.

---

Vox realized that he had a voyeurism kink the third time his boss had sex with someone while he was still in the room. Probably not the outcome she intended, but it wasn’t like Vox could do anything about it anyway. He still felt sexual desire, but he’d spawned in Hell without genitals, so that energy had nowhere to go. Just another lovely part of Vox’s Wonderful Afterlife.

---

Most sinners are horrified when they see their new forms for the first time. Vox was just devastated.

He was horrified when he first woke up, of course– transported to a strange new place, surrounded by giant monsters, and barely able to keep from swaying under the weight of his oversized head. No one paid him and his panic any mind, save for a few smirks and chuckles. Vox found himself pressed up against a wall, out of the way of the flow of pedestrians, and trying to process what was going on. Once he realized something was wrong with his body, he ducked into a nearby store, desperate to find a mirror (and get away from the crowds of fellow sinners). The store clerk let him in; they weren’t supposed to let newlydead into the shop since they usually just cause a scene, but Vox looked harmless, and they felt a little bad for such a tiny, fearful sinner. Vox made a beeline for the nearest mirror.

When his reflection finally came into view, Vox… he was lost for words. Seeing his childlike proportions, it finally registered that the world hadn’t gotten bigger; he’d gotten smaller. His body… there was something wrong with it. It was made of wood and metal, like a puppet; only the materials seemed to bend like flesh or rubber. Worse than that, it was completely smooth and featureless; his genitals were simply gone. His hands were soft, rounded, and nailless, more like stuffed gloves than human hands. His head was encased— no, not encased, replaced with a television set that looked like it comprised most of his body weight. Displayed on its screen was a face like something out of a cartoon: large, shiny, googly eyes, a wide mouth, and one conspicuously absent tooth. All topped off with a pair of floppy, overly long antennas that made him resemble some kind of insect.

Vox was speechless, staring at his new body. He felt tears bubbling up as he examined each part of it; he wasn’t sure how, but some part of him knew this wasn’t a dream and that this form would not be temporary. No tears fell though, trapped behind the glass of the— his— screen. He couldn’t recall the moment of his death, but the realization of where he must be began to dawn on him. A soft, despairing sound escaped him, and Vox realized his voice, too, had been changed. He was not himself anymore, just this tiny, adorable thing, right out of the cartoons he’d been trying to repair the TV so his children could watch. A joke.

Suddenly, Vox felt someone grab him by the arm, dragging him away from the mirror, his feet barely brushing the floor. The owner had noticed a newlydead had snuck in and was having the prerequisite “What have I become?” freakout in their store. Carelessly, they shoved/threw Vox back onto the street and slammed the door behind them. Reeling, trying to wrap his mind around the gravity of the situation, Vox stumbled and collapsed on the sidewalk, surrounded by sinners who either stepped around him like he was nothing or paused for a moment to snicker at the clumsy newlydead, struggling to regain his balance under the weight of his massive head.

---

Vox's own shitty beliefs ended up being used against him during his early years in Hell.

In life, he'd treated his wife and son poorly because they complained about being unhappy with how things were. Vox believed that if all your physical needs were met and you were able to live comfortably, you had no right to complain. He provided them with everything, and all he asked for in return was for them to be the happy, perfect wife/son he expected them to be. What was so hard about that?!

In death, the tables were turned. Vox was able to live comfortably in a safe environment, doing a job that most sinners would describe as incredibly cushy, but he was desperately unhappy. He was forced to play an inauthentic, demeaning role 24/7 and couldn't complain about it unless he wanted to be punished. Just sit there quietly and smile while the "grownups" are talking. No one wants to hear your silly little opinions. You should be grateful that you're even allowed to be here.

---

Words were Vox's boss' preferred weapon when it came to surreptitiously tormenting him, but she wasn't above using physical violence as a means of "discipline" either. Aside from the antenna and "storage" incidents, she'd occasionally employ some "percussive maintenance" at the beginning of his time with her in response to breaks in character or sullen comments. Once or twice, she burnt him with cigarettes in response to particularly "bad" offenses.

---

Vox's boss would give him gifts sometimes. Little presents wrapped up all pretty with a bow. Sometimes, they were for special occasions, like the anniversary of his "coming to live with her"; sometimes, they were "rewards for good behavior." Vox would accept the presents graciously and then never open them, leaving them to collect dust in his room. There were a few occasions when she made him open them in front of her, though. Usually, they were just quaint little trinkets or clothes, but once, she gifted him a goldfish (or the Hellish equivalent) in a tiny bowl. It was the closest to something he'd actually want, yet it still felt like a veiled taunt. It didn't take long for the fish to die; its bowl was too small.

---

Vox does his absolute best to keep his past secret from everyone, particularly Valentino. He knows on some level that it wouldn’t really change anything, other than give Val and Vel something else to tease him about, but Vox’s ego is so fragile that he feels like he’d die again if they found out. Unfortunately for him, Valentino is incredibly observant when he wants to be. He doesn’t know the specifics, but based on various little things from throughout the years and the pointed insults he’s heard Alastor throw at Vox, he can guess that Vox’s early days in Hell were less than auspicious. However, he assumes Vox was just some corporate toady, and would be just as shocked as everyone else to learn how Vox actually began his afterlife.

[bandtrees]

this has always been one of my favorite lines in this scene it’s so striking to me. i think debating over callum’s level of lucidity and what can or cannot “fix” him is deeply antithecal to what the story is trying to express with him - but the idea that callum is still there and still a person who does have the capacity to love mingus, just not in a way she can ever comprehend or accept, because she can't comprehend or accept anything outside her narrow worldview, is sooooo good.

there is no way of actually knowing if callum is proud of mingus, much less recognizes her at all - but it's added to by the fact there's only so much of that she would accept even if he could. ultimately, she wants validation and power, his prestige, from him, she wants a supportive parental figure she never had - there's only so much of that callum is able to provide even in a world where her stint to fix his memory actually worked. he's like a hundred. he never even MET her. to say nothing of all he's missed in the past fifty-odd years. to say nothing of how his age may have messed with his mind deteriorating even without the pre-existing brain damage.

and mingus' phrasing here implies he doesn't even look at her when she visits - which brings me to the visit that radicalized her: the one after her surgery, where he was watching gingi out the window.

obviously, callum watching gingi is mostly for the thematics of it all, how similar the two of them are in ways mingus refuses to recognize, but theres also the thought of... callum's been sitting alone in that room for over half his life, barely lucid if at all. of course he's going to be drawn to a brightly-colored thing making noises and knocking stuff over outside. if he can't respond to stimuli of the people around him he's at the very least going to latch onto something more visually interesting than Brown Wall and Brown Figure.

but it's not like mingus can think of it like that, because she's internalized so much about her grandfather and built up such a specific, personalized vision of him - she doesn't see him as an elderly man with (a fictional equivalent to) dementia, she sees him as President Callum Crown™, the man she personally has to please and live up to the legacy of and make proud, disregarding the fact that's not something he has the mental capacity to even do - because she's so obsessed with validation and complete control that the only way she can get it is by either subjugating others and forcing it out of them (what she does with her townsfolk), or just completely projecting on someone who, for her purposes, is basically a blank slate.

which is maddening to her in its own way, see how crazy she drives herself trying to restore callum's memory in the first place - but also, would she be happy even if callum could see her for who she is? post-game, when she's working on herself, that's an irrelevant question as she's pushed past that need, but as we know her? absolutely not.

i love the ch3 standoff between norm and mingus as a show of "Okay guys let’s see who can dehumanize this disabled guy harder (via pedestal-putting) and justify themselves for it better" and why i think it is so important that it’s gingi who reads the postcard and ultimately speaks for callum instead of either of them, or even the narrator. they can’t read, and they struggle to, but they manage to get it right even when people are telling them to stop. and the fact they’re able to do it at all, are given the chance to do so, and are ultimately the one to wind down this conflict shows that the world of dialtown, while not perfect, really is how callum would have wanted it.

both gingi and callum are some of the most altruistic and human characters ever, and the crux of their parallels is that they are denied this by close-minded people because they happen to Behave Strangely. it's why seeing mingus act the way she does hits so hard - she loves her paw-paw, yes, but if she were to see him in a vacuum, a one-limbed man who can hardly think, much less speak for himself: or even his younger self, who was struggling to make ends meet with his odd inventions...

...well, the feeling norm's imagining here would probably be mutual. mingus' relationship with bigotry is a very fascinating one, she's very close-minded but views certain oddities (ie her flesh-head) as having earned their place and thus being fine - she's a freak too, by her own admission, but she's doing it for a just and wider purpose, so it's fine. which is, ironically, the ideology callum forced upon himself.

callum was obsessed with helping people, pushing himself to do more and more, because it was the only way he ever found respect. if he didn't help people and have grand visions for the world and make himself "useful" to society at large, then what would he be, if not a freak?

mingus and her paw-paw are very similar people, from their well-intentioned extremism, to their stubbornness and paranoia, to their inability to view themselves as anything more than a vessel for that grand cause they believe in (callum in the dialup, mingus in restoring her paw-paw's memory) - which is funny, because if mingus was able to view callum, and herself, as a flawed human person, she would come to understand how similar they really are.

:(

[ants-personal]

tbh i just love the trope so imagine a scenario where in order to stop the boys from defeating them a villain turns one against the other effectively possessing them whether literally or by a spell and they choose charles whos got all this pent up rage and fear of it

So they have charles turn into his worse fear someone who brings nothing but pain eyes whited over as edwin and crystal try to approach him to ask if hes okay only for charles to quickly turn trying to get a hit with his bat at one of them edwin pulling crystal barely out of the way both looking shocked every step they take back charles takes forward the need to get to whoever to break the spell or totem or whatever so edwin whispers a plan to crystal hell take charles on if anything charles cannot cause real harm to him as he can crystal so crystal runs one way charles turns to follow before edwin calls his name snapping charle back to him and as much as it will pain them both in the end edwin straightens and laces his voice with as much condensation and acids he can making remarks and calling charles names

till charles is chasing after him through halls and walls missing swings as edwin dodges or turns a corner faster and breaking whatever his bat lands on but its charles a part of him knows edwin and soon its turn against him hes able to cut edwin of and hit him with a blow so hard its like getting struck by lighting all consuming bright light and sesring pain as edwin is flung back through three walls

this goes on for a bit edwin taking quit the beating at the hands of charles who in some ways seems like hes enjoying it edwin whos hair has become ruffled and clothes a bit torn is glad for his high pain tolerance which someone lets him still spit cruel words to keep charles on him hes not even sure if crystal is close to winning

its only when hes thrown over another table landing on his back even if they literally cant he still feels the pain of broken ribs shards travel through his veins like shards of glass it doesnt help when charles stomps on foor down hard on it pinning him to the ground anxiety creeps up and edwins aware of the feeling prey whos been caught and the torture that follows he doesnt know to beg for charles to come to or play his role if he doesnt what happens to crystal charles would never forgive himself of he did anything to her but edwin cant help but feel fear hes been here before if not charles then some other demon ghoul or witch all leading to worse terrors so all he can do is whimper out a plea for what hes not sure

As charles flourishes his bat having the blunt end land just above edwins throat edwin cant help but grip into charles leg holding him hes not even trying to push him off pathetically trying to seek comfort from his friend in any way he can shaking hands and fingers digging in so tight if they were alive he sure charles would bleed hes not sure what will happen if charles does decapitated him he won't die but there are worse things like experiencing the pain of a blunt object being the thing use it wont be a clean cut to if hell be able to put his head back on carrying it around is not ideal all thoughts running through his head as charles raises the bat as high as he can breathing heavily bringing his weapon down fast and all edwin can think to yelp is charles name eyes squeezed shut

but no pain comes charles is still above him the pressure on his chest never letting up so edwin slowly opens his eyes charles bat resting centimeters his neck frozen in place following the length of it he finally meets charles eyes and they are still whited out but they are different something is they are flickering like hes looking for something and then suddenly tears are welling and spilling over and edwin cant stop himself from realsing his grip on charles leg to reach up an to grab charles sleeves still gripping the handle letting him know its okay its alright hes here he cant help but jump at the gasp charles lets out as he seems to come back to himself stumbling back from edwin he cant get a full sentence dropping his bat like it burns breaking down stuck between pulling edwin closer or bolting and edwin decides for both of them pulling charles down and wrapping himself around charles tight and soon they are both gripping eachother with tearful apologizes

[lost-estradiographer]

I

know that voting for the status quo sucks.

To say it "sucks" massively understates the exact amount of suffering that exists under the status quo, an amount that I acknowledge I am too privileged to ever fully grasp.

I cannot magically provide some viable third-party candidate just barely a month before the election. I cannot solve Israel/Palestine Conflict that has haunted the world for over 70 years. I am a 29-year old transgender woman working her way through her own mental illnesses, trauma, and an undergraduate degree. I was never going to be the one to solve anything here.

All I can tell you is that regardless of whether you vote or not, there will be a presidential election. It's going to be a shitshow, regardless. Whether you vote or not, there will be a different president in January. Voting for the status quo may not be directly in your interests.

We had four years of Trump and we are still trying to unfuck ourselves from that. The beginning of my antagonistic relationship with the government was protesting in the streets of DC under his administration. I've fled from the Metro PD. I've put on a change of clothes and slipped out the back door of a gay sports bar.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Honestly, I

I don't want to see this voter apathy shit anymore.

People are going to keep dying under any president. Any president can, and probably wil, be morally culpable for the deaths of innocent people, both in the country and abroad. Carter might be the last president we had that wasn't overtly a war criminal and we still had foreign civilians killed by U.S. military involvement under the Carter admin.

I'm torn between asking you to block me, or asking you to message me, if you're taking the route of voter apathy. I'll tell you right away, here and now, that I probably don't have a solution to whatever problem is keeping you from voting for Harris. I can't even solve my own problems right, tbh. The government isn't really here for me, either.

But there isn't going to be some sort of miraculous revolution that results in The Ending Where Everyone Lives. If there's a revolution, then supply chains will falter and children and the infirm will die of preventable diseases and infections and complications in hospitals that would have otherwise been able to easily deal with such things. That's what happens in a revolution. I'm after the long-term idea where Humanity as a species lives. I'm after the route where we don't have an ending, we keep going.

Fucking vote, because exactly one of the two leading presidential candidates believes climate change is real, and it is the single greatest threat to all life on earth. We have spent the past 250 years, not just playing God with the environment, but actively creating an ecological niche in which future generations of humanity must continue to play God with the environment, dragging it back to a healthy place drop by drop, inch by inch, a degree at a time.

Or, I mean, don't vote. Either way, we'll all die at some point. Perhaps some of us will be lucky enough to die standing by our principles.

Those lucky few will become soil one day, just like I will.

I am begging you on my hands and knees to fucking vote, though, because our options are The Status Quo vs. Worse. That's

That's it.

There is no door number three right now. Our system, our flawed and broken and imbalanced and unjust system, does not accommodate for a third door. Whether you vote or not, you will be dragged through either Door 1 or Door 2 with all of humanity, as we whirl through the cosmos upon our tiny little speck of dust. The only other legitimate option is to allow oneself to become trampled; to become soil early. I don't say legitimate to give this option legitimacy, but to make clear that again, there is no door three. Door three is a casket. A one-way bed.

I didn't vote in 2016, and I'm hoping that you'll vote for the status quo this time, because that's the route that gives me the best odds of having a long and healthy life to regret my failure through inaction.

Just please

Fucking vote.

Or again, if you're taking the apathy route, probably just save me the time of blocking you, because you're not going to magically pull a viable third-party candidate out of your pocket less than six weeks before the election.

[c0njidraws]

*click to full view*

Mondo as a tight end (thank you, Nuc on Twitter), Kiyotaka as a cheerleading manager, Sakura as a quarterback, Leon as the wide receiver, and Sayaka as the cheerleading captain.

(It's not really an AU, I just wanted to see them in uniforms lol)

((I only know bits about American football from Eyeshield21 I read years ago))