#But a bad way with dealing with the problem

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[theamazingaxleyax]

OMFG MY BRAAIIIIIINNNNN!!!!

I have an idea. (This is incredibly garbled and probably incoherent, but I need to get this out now)

So basically, ROTTMNT separated AU right?

Splinter was only able to save Raph and Mikey from the lab explosion, but only narrowly. Some rubble cut him off from the twins, and baby Raph got a little banged up as well. After the whole wreckage, Draxum assumes that half of his creations are dead based on the small puddle of blood near a large pile of debris. Lou had taken the other two.

Splinter raises Raph and Mikey the same he does in canon EXCEPT when Raph is 16, he asks about the large scar on his arm. Splinter who has been dreading this question for years carefully explains the story. (At least... some of it). He's silently believed that the other two have been living in the hidden city all these years. They have his DNA, they won't die easily. Mikey almost instantly decides he wants to see the hidden city, so after some scrounging around and paying a visit to a certain goat yokai running a candy/mystic item shop who had a terrible password (wink? seriously?). He managed to get a gateway opener.

Fast forward a couple of years. The boys and April have been visiting the Hidden City for a while. They met a rabbit yokai named Yuichi Usagi a while back, and Mikey has been dragging him around ever since.

Now let's say something happens and Raph and Mikey encounter a problem that they can't razz-ma-tazz or punch their way out of. Usagi offers some advice. Two of the most well known characters in The Hidden city's underground network. One is a mercenary, and is well known for having a VERY strict moral compass when it comes to jobs (What that moral compass is exactly is anybodies guess.) and the other is a rarely seen arms dealer, well known for their incredible mystic technology. The two are known to be exceptional strategists, and could help solve this problem

This is where we meet Vio and Indie. (Placeholder names). Raph, Mikey, Usagi, an April enter a small sketchy looking building, COVERED in mystic flora. Weapons line each wall, and at the counter in the back, there are various jars of poisons and medicines. Then a yokai catches their attention.

A turtle yokai.

He's wearing a cross between a robe and a cloak, a mask covering the lower half of his face, but that does very little to hide the smug grin on his face. He throws a couple of flirtatious remarks at Usagi, before introducing himself a Indigo, or Indie to the three who don't know him. Raph and April are reasonably shook, and struggle to find the words they need, so Mikey introduces himself and his family before discussing the problem. Indie almost instantly starts acting buddy-buddy with him saying he "Likes his vibes" and asks a couple clarifying questions when a second yokai walks in.

He looks.... bad. Half of his torso has pretty nasty burn scars, and he has a prosthetic arm and eye. (No wonder he was rarely seen). He has a bit of an absent look on his face, and Indie quickly excuses himself, introducing the other as his brother, Violet, or Vio, and starts to nudge him back towards the curtain door he came through (the house section of the building). He explains that Vio had a bad run-in with a certain spider when they were younger and a very poor deal was made. Everything had been solved at this point, but it left Vio with lasting damage (mentally and physically) and today was a "Foggy Day"

So, fast forward a bit (again) and the random threat is dealt with by now, but Mikey still enjoys visiting the twins (even if they are sketchy af). Vio is pretty chatty when he's not "Foggy" and Indie knows some really good jokes and one liners. Eventually Mikey spills the beans about Draxum (this whole situation has taken place over the course of season one) and that reawakens some buried memories from the other two. One Vio mandated DNA test later, and Indie is practically squealing over his relation to not only the greatest martial arts movie star EVER, but also the Ex-Battle Nexus Champion!

Insert awkward reunion here, blah blah blah, I haven't got this far in my idea yet. Idek if I'll even continue this little thought experiment. (It started out as a simple 'Okay, Disaster Twins, but like.... Anti-Hero')

[anyaskalliope]

Mel and The Noxus Spin-Off

Judging by the way this season 2 turned out for Mel's character, it has shown me that the writers involved with making the show are deeply entrenched in the fandom and are keeping notes of how people feel about the show. It's too bad that the loud majority who often mischaracterized Mel's actions and motives with other characters had their feelings affirmed by the writing in season two.

The difference in how her motives and actions were presented in S1(when the writers had no fan reception) and S2 after said fan reception is stark.

This brings me to the Noxus spin-off, I wouldn't be lying if I said that I wasn't worried that Mel wouldn't get as much focus in that series as we think she might. Yes, she might be our introduction there but I get the inkling that another character would take center stage.

It's already a very understood thing that Mel isn't well-liked in this fandom, even outside her relationship with Jayce. The majority of the comments are about how "manipulative" she is, focused on her looks, Jayce, and never about Mel as a person, as a character, and how she feels.

I've witnessed many people say that Mel heading off to Noxus will be a good conclusion for her character and that Mel is so strong and badass so she'll be alright. Completely ignoring that she's an empath heading over to a country that thrives off violence, war, and the suffering of others all while being all alone with no one to confide in. Not to mention all of Ambessa's problems and enemies that she has to deal with.

My point is a lot of fans don't seem to like her past surface level and I fear that the writers and production might not see her as strong enough to carry a show (ratings, interest, views, etc.) based on how the loud majority is. I've already seen people saying they won't watch it if she's the main character.

[runninriot]

Backstage Romance (I Want It Bad)

written for @steddiesongfics

song: Backstage Romance (Moulin Rouge! The Musical) | rated: E | wc: 7.018 | tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson, Manager Steve Harrington, Famous Corroded Coffin, secret hookups, dom/sub undertones, angst, smut, ambiguous/open ending | complete fic on ao3

-----

Eddie is buzzing, high on adrenaline like always when they’re playing a show. He’s still not used to this, it’s still something he can’t quite wrap his head around – to watch people dance and sing along to their songs, to hear their roaring applause and deafening whistles, to know they’re here for them.

It’s electrifying.

A fucking dream.

They’re still considered newcomers but Corroded Coffin are finally climbing their way out of the gutter; they’re making it, step by step, and one day not too far in the future, they’ll be on top.

It’s all Eddie ever wanted, all he and his best friends have always fantasized about back when they were still a bunch of loser kids dreaming of becoming rockstars while terrorising Gareth’s poor parents (and the whole neighbourhood, really) with the horrible noise coming from their garage.

The dream is reality now, success not only a possibility but a fact. It would be poison for Eddie's already too big ego but thankfully, there's always someone bringing him back down to earth when he gets carried away.

They’ve got a label now, signed record deal and all and-

   “Great show, guys! The people seemed to really love the new song.”

Yeah, and that. They’ve got a manager now, too.

Steve Harrington.

The guy whose appearance makes him stick out like a sore thumb from the sea of blacks and greys and dark reds around him. The guy who doesn’t look the part but actually likes what they do. The guy who doesn’t give two fucks about what others think of him because he’s not here to make friends, he’s here to do his job. And he’s pretty good at that.

Good at a lot of things.

At first, Eddie hated the idea of having a fucking babysitter on tour with them. Someone to watch their every move, someone to keep them out of trouble (where’s the fun in that?), to make sure they don’t fuck up their reputation. Someone to handle all their business affairs for them, as if they couldn’t take care of it themselves.

Now, Eddie’s actually glad they have someone to deal with everything – from interview requests and setting up their tour schedule to negotiating their contracts and booking their gigs. Steve handles it all, allowing the band to enjoy the fruits of their labour without having to deal with the annoying parts of being in the music business.

And that should be all there is to it. Just a business relation based on what’s in the band’s best interest.

But it’s not.

Not behind the curtains, backstage, when no one is looking. Where, hidden in dark corners, Steve and Eddie share a secret.

A secret that could ruin it all.

Because it’s unprofessional, could get them both in trouble. Could get Steve fired, possibly. Maybe even put Eddie’s – if not the whole band’s – career on the line if the public ever found out about it.

But that just makes it even more thrilling.

Eddie has always been drawn to that, the forbidden, things that could cause irreparable damage. And throughout his life, he’s come to ask himself more than once if this is really worth it. If it’s worth risking it all just for giving in to his reckless impulses.

But the answer has always been the same. Now even more so than ever.

He knows it’s wrong, dangerous, a game he shouldn’t be playing because playing with fire will get him burned.

The problem is that he’s a sucker for the pain.

And being ruined by Steve Harrington is worth everything.

-----

continue reading here

[sonknuxadow]

my honest reaction

[phyrestartr]

Nemesis (The Man I Miss) | Miguel O'hara x M!BlackCat!Reader (TEASER)

CW: jealousy, violence, brutality, self-loathing, implied depression, possessive relationship #NSFW, Top!Miguel, Bottom!Reader, hurt/comfort, anti-hero reader, complicated relationships, lonely reader, crook turned hero, reader is a tired guy, mutual pining - Note: Posting some WIPs I've had laying around for a while while I try to finish up the next HOUND update! Needed a bit of a break from it since it's pretty long, but I hope some teasers make up for the wait. Tysm for reading!

Taking care of Nueva York was exhausting. You were far too used to being the problem rather than the problem-solver. That job reserved itself for the one and only Spiderman–your Spiderman. 

At least, you liked to think he was yours. 

Knowing my luck, the prick’s run off with his shocking wife or something. The thought plagued your mind too often. And it was true: Spiderman disappeared. He no longer served Nueva York and kept it safe, he no longer caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, he no longer gave chase throughout the city before pinning you down on some rooftop and taking his prize by force. And you liked it–no, you loved it. Fucking with the man who’d always get to fuck you back came to be a part of life you relished. 

But now you were alone. Left by yourself to deal with lumbering lizards and giggling goblins while wondering how the fuck you’d ended up as a hero when you were anything but. Even the police couldn’t believe the switch, which caused some problems, and led to less-sexy chases that ended with you getting away no problem. 

I wish I had problems. Just one problem, though: Spiderman. 

You tossed aside your shiny leathers and collapsed into your bed. He’d never been there, no, but you fantasized about it. You thought about his impossibly wide back and the ripple of taut muscle greeting you in the morning, or maybe his built chest and strong neck–or maybe his handsome face–well, you’d never seen his face, but you had your guesses. 

Your chest twinged the slightest bit, somewhere between where your greed and feelings intertwined.

Ugh. You missed him. 

–

“Who's that?” Peter remarked as he walked up on Miguel. The lab was dark and dreary, spilling with shades of orange and amber where the blues couldn't reach. And Miguel, the source of the cold, stood in front of the firelight, gazing upon your image in the newscycle. 

Miguel frowned. “No one.” But he didn't tuck your image nor the article away. 

“Huh, looks like Black Cat. A 2099 Black Cat? Never thought I'd see the day.” Peter hummed and bounced a sleepy Mayday in his arms. “He up to no good?” 

“He's up to good,” Miguel bit out. “That's the problem. He doesn't do good.” 

“He's sort of an anti-hero these days,” Lyla cut in, blinking into existence on Peter's shoulder like the devil she was. “All thanks to Spiderman's influence–” 

“Lyla,” Miguel warned (begged?). 

“--aaand their sweet, cute budding romance,” she finished with a dreamy sigh. “Doesn't it just melt your heart?” 

–

You pinned him against the wall and let your hands trace through the hard lines of his muscles on your way down to your ultimate prize. Spiderman shuddered and stayed still, much to your surprise, letting you feel him, letting you acknowledge the hardness bulging under your criminal touch. Because he dreamt of this too. Dreamt of you touching him, of you falling down to your knees, your eyes never leaving his masked face even when you pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to stretched fabric holding back his filled cock. 

“So strong,” you cooed, “but not strong enough to resist, hm?” You sighed and worked him through the fabric with one hand. “Shouldn’t you be stopping the big bad from manhandling you like this, Spidey?”

“Hardly consider you the big bad,” he scoffed back. Spiderman tilted his head back with a choked groan whent hose diamond-tipped clawed gloves dug into his thighs. “Mierda, you–”

“Oh?” You grinned, so cheshire, so in-theme with your persona. “You can stop me any time, no?” 

He could’ve. But he didn’t. 

–

“A daughter,” you murmured. The flickering images–memories, maybe?–were there, waiting quietly for you, preserved and kept precious in shades of amber. But the scene was so alive; you could feel the stretch of the sun against your gloved touch, you basked in the crisp Spring air of that soccer game, you drowned in the warmth of that father's smile–

Spidey's smile. That was beyond obvious. The mountainous shoulders, the tawny skin, those hands– they belonged to him. Your beast. Your nemesis and lover, the man you hadn’t seen for far too long–

“Because you've been off taking care of a kid?” Your fingers, gentle, feather-light, ghosted across that foreign memory. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Who’s your baby mama?

The lab lights stilted and jittered. You snapped from your trance and made for the window you’d come in through, not bothering to see what was happening with your system jammers–you knew Lyla, she knew you, and that made the whole breaking-into-Spiderman’s-base thing more tricky and risky. Your jammer wasn’t fool-proof. It was quite easy to override, actually, but the interference was the difficult thing to detect in the first place. You only thought you’d need a handful of minutes to see your spider, anyway.

But he wasn’t there. Maybe he was off with his little girl. 

Something cacophonous and nerve-wracking churned to the sound of warping electricity behind you as you dove from the window and slid down the side of the skyscraper, claws shrieking against metal and glass alike until you could launch off and latch onto a passing hover car. The periphery of your mind swore it saw flashes of orange and yellow, more violent and heavy than the screens you stared at in that dower room, and maybe you might have heard a familiar voice too. 

The broad, tiny silhouette standing in that abandoned window gave you much more to think about.  -- Feel free to comment on this post if you want to be tagged for the full version!

@kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

[wishesofeternity]

I have a lot of mixed feelings about Arcane Season 2, especially after Act 1.

I enjoyed the season and there was a great deal I loved about it. The animation, in particular, was spectacular. But I had a lot of issues about its pacing, characterization and key narrative choices.

(Spoilers)

Why does the finale of a show that's supposed to be about two sisters revolve around two men? Why were all of its other female characters also sidelined to focus on them? Why was Sky fridged yet again?

Vi had no proper arc or goal across this season and was very inconsistently written. Jinx had comparatively more consistency but still had major issues. Their relationship, as mentioned above, was also not handled properly or given adequate attention.

Vi and Caitlyn's relationship was a mess in almost every way, I'm sorry.

Mel and Ekko were both almost entirely sidelined after Act 1 (and the Firelights barely played any role at all?)

The way they handled Viktor's terminal illness, specifically how Jayce spoke about it, was fucked up

The socio-political conflict between Piltover and Zaun was almost completely swept under the rug by bringing in a new Big Bad and common enemy for them to "unite" against. Piltover's oppression of Zaun was also massively minimized after Act 1 and ignored altogether; after defeating Noxus, there is no reason not to believe that they would go back to the status quo of inequality and martial law. Sevika getting a seat on the council (still Piltover's council) is mere lip service with no discussion on what that actually entailed, or what they planned to do in the future. Zaun is still not free. I've seen people try to justify this by claiming that "that was the point, it's meant to show that things are imperfect" but the fact of the matter is that there is no indication that the show wanted to make this point at all (and if they did, it was very badly done). They should have addressed the oppression of Zaun directly, which they never did. What they instead did was actively downplay it on far too many occasions.

There were some plot points I personally disagreed with, like their decision to bring Vander back, but those are personal grievances that I could have made peace with if they were written well. Unfortunately, they weren't.

A lot of these problems stem from pacing, tbh. The show also introduced far too many plot threads last minute without resolving anything properly. If they had three seasons, or even a longer second season, maybe they could have committed to addressing what they had previously set up. But it doesn't seem to have been their priority in the first place, so 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, the way the fandom is relentlessly attacking anyone who dares to critique/criticize this season is pathetic and needs to stop.

[vinelark]

I've been going through ur fic recs and after binging through "A Meditation On Railroading" and "The Long Way Home", I'm now obsessed with Jason and Tim. Something about hating each other but not really, all the bad blood and hurt and still becoming brothers bc how couldn't they

I wanted to ask if you know any other fics that are about them?

Thanks! :)

i had to make a real effort to keep this (relatively) short or it would just be hundreds of fics long. here is a very incomplete list of old favs and recent reads! i've definitely rec'd some of them already, but i think others are new to my fic rec tag.   you already mentioned a meditation on railroading and the long way home; i’m linking them again here for anyone else who wants them, because they are two of my favs and would kick off this list if you hadn’t already read them.   robin!jason era   Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding one of the most impressive things a story can do, imo, is pull off a really believable kid/teen pov—this does it twice, for both tim and jason, and it’s one of my fav rereads.

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by @bonesbuckleup i’ll always be reccing this one; it’s one of my favorite slow-burn hurt/comfort fics, and the tim & jason relationship in this context is very sweet + compelling as they deal with some rough edges unique to this story.

1-800-ROBIN by spqr jason volunteers for a mental health hotline, and this leads to bonding with tim. this has some incredibly tender moments and a great robin!jason pov.   red hood!jason era

cake is a four letter word by @sonosvegliato jason just wants to make a loaf of bread. then tim shows up. i love when a writer nails tim in peak Annoying Mode (❤️).

geolocation by @envysparkler i love a good forced-to-work-together oneshot, and this one gets bonus points for the sheer amount of “actions speak louder than words” going on with every single thing jason does.

Tim in a Bottle by @coyote-nebula (wip) angst and humor galore; tim and jason and their giant pile of unresolved issues all get locked in a walk-in freezer together. need i go on?

the trolley problem by @silk-scarlet-ribbons this is—i say with full appreciation—an absolute pangfest. jason is taken by an enemy, and that enemy has kidnapped a "random civilian" (you guessed it: tim) for leverage to get jason to do what they want. (also check out requiem for the forsaken by the same author, which is the fic that finally got my best friend to start caring about robins with me.)

Short-Term Memory Loss (Leads to Long-Term Sibling) by Vamillepudding a bittersweet + hopeful story in which red hood!jason gets temporarily whammed back to robin!jason, and bonds with tim.

Say Uncle by @megaerakles an incredibly fun twist on tim’s fake uncle with layers upon layers of identity shenanigans.

of crime lords and literature by @adelfie a wonderfully angsty, plotty fic in which tim ends up in danger as himself, and—after a very rocky start—jason is somehow the one who rescues him.

unequipped by Valkirin there’s a lot of jason saving tim on this list, and this story is a delightful reversal of that trope. red hood’s in trouble, and tim shows up to bail him out.

For All The Just Alike Birds by @sunflowersandink tim breaks his arm, and jason makes it his problem. featuring some excellent begrudgingly worried jason pov!

alternate universe

clean it like you mean it by @wynterstars (wip) i adore this jason-joins-the-family late AU; the central robin!tim & sort-of-civilian!jason dynamic is so compelling. marked as a wip, but currently leaves off in a very satisfying place!

[raventhebard]

More Poolverine Headcanons bc I have a problem :3

I imagine Logan having nice handwriting like pretty cursive, people compliment him on it, but he just doesn't think it's that big a deal cuz that's how he learned how to write as a kid.

Wade's handwriting is shit and even he can barely read it.

Logan is trans and had top surgery from the Muramasa blade and is on T.

Wade has housewife hobbies, sewing, knitting, etc.(He cannot ever finish something unless he does at least 3 dozen things during the process, watches some Reality TV, or if he's really motivated) Except for cooking and cleaning, he's almost burnt down their apartment multiple times. And he's just bad at cleaning. For him it's boring and an unnecessary task.

Logan's a bit of a better cook and can make food, he's fixed the apartment and basically stopped it from total collapse.

Wade's closet consists of T Shirts he bought off Amazon with crazy sayings(I wanna make a whole post just off this), some suits and ties just in case, surprisingly nice dresses, and different versions of his super suit he has made for himself.

Logan has flannels, jeans, white tank tops, leather jacket, jean jacket, and his suit. He doesn't think he needs more than that, but Wade disagrees.

Sometimes, Wade will make a joke about his past and trauma and Logan will be at a loss for words and genuinely concerned.

They love camping, Logan is very connected with the wilderness and Wade likes watching Logan connect with his instincts.

I'm thinking of doing an NSFW alphabet for them, and more headcanons are on the way

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track two: kowalski, status report

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, alcohol, mentions of drugs/drug dealing, toge bullying, unbearably cute dogs. || sfw. 9k words.

"I SHOULDN'T CUSS in this, right?"

It’s the day before the other four artists premiere their sets at Battle of the Bands, and you haven’t been home since six in the morning. You’re running on caffeine and spite and the pursuit of the story, parked on a high stool across the bar from the one and only Ieiri Shoko.

Toge leans on the counter beside you, opting to stand. He’s agreed to pay for the next snack run in return for you letting him be your partner. You both know you’re going to end up doing most of the writing, but you don’t really mind. Toge would if you asked him to, but you love this kind of thing in a way he just doesn’t. Plus, he’s better with a camera than you, and he’s taking photos tomorrow night.

You laugh, pulling out your phone to record. “You can say whatever you want as long as it’s honest. Be candid.”

“You might regret saying that!” Gojo calls from the back, and Shoko silences him with a glare.

“Are you coming or not?”

Gojo grins and finishes up whatever he’s putting away in the storage room, then strides out and leans his elbows on the counter.

“Do you mind if I record?” You point to the open voice memo app. “Makes it easier to quote you correctly.” You also just hate running interviews when you’re scribbling hand-written notes the whole time. You’d much rather have a genuine conversation and worry about the details later.

Shoko waves a hand airily. “No problem.”

“Absolutely,” Gojo says. “You can probably sell that for thousands.”

You set the phone on the counter, next to one of the tiny pumpkins scattered across it in celebration of the beginning of October. You and Toge bounce back and forth as you run through the standard start-of-interview checklist, having them spell out their names, getting their ages, hometowns, degrees, all that jazz. And then you launch into the stuff you really care about.

“So, you opened The Fix about ten years ago now, correct?”

Shoko nods. “Yeah, a little over two years after we graduated.”

You look at Gojo, whose eyes are even more alarmingly blue in the daylight. “And you were hired right away?”

“Utahime first, then me,” he nods. “Best for last, y’know.”

Shoko snorts. “We knew each other in school. I just took pity on him.” She smirks as Gojo’s jaw drops. “You can quote that.”

“Right, so all of you were friends in college. And you came together to start this place—what was the idea behind it?” Toge chimes in. “You said you studied nursing, Shoko?”

And you sit and listen as Shoko explains. Back in college, she was at the top of her class. By graduation, she’d been accepted to basically all the best med schools. She had her pick. She could do whatever she wanted. But she realized that what she wanted wasn’t that at all.

The medical field is brutal, she tells you. It’s all late nights and emotional burnout. People yelling at you, misplaced anger when you give them the bad news. Getting attached to people only to watch them waste away.

“I needed to get out before I got too far in. Maybe it was selfish,” she admits. “But I wasn’t cut out for it. I have so much admiration for medical professionals, but I couldn’t be one of them. A few clinicals and I was already feeling the consequences of giving too much of myself and getting nothing back.” She shrugs. “So I named it The Fix, as some kind of homage to the medical background. And I figured I’d just make sure it’s safe.”

Something sits heavy in her gaze as she stares at something behind you, middle distance, like she’s remembering.

“Why a college bar?” you ask, nudging the phone across the counter to pick up her voice better. “I mean, the extra security, thinking about underage drinking, dealing with a bunch of broke university kids. You could’ve just as easily opened a different bar in a more lucrative area. What was the appeal?”

She smiles crookedly. “Appeal. Well. My senior year, I was working in the local ER. And I saw… god. So many kids came in there needing their stomachs pumped, or kids who’d done laced drugs, gotten roofied, harassed, it was… I mean, it was a city university club scene. They weren’t safe. And I just felt like I needed to give them that. I couldn’t stay there as a nurse or a doctor. But I could do this.” She shrugs. “Sorry. That was probably way too much.”

“No,” you say quickly, smiling at her. “That was—that’s what we came here for. Shoko, that’s amazing. And it’s not selfish, taking care of yourself. You’re still here taking care of others.”

You don’t know Gojo well. Most of your stories about him come secondhand from Nobara, who knows him through Megumi. She paints the picture of a flamboyant, obnoxious bartender who’s more like a weird uncle to her than anything. From what you’ve seen of him at The Fix, you know this to be mostly accurate—he’s rarely serious, always taking flack from the students and giving it right back, ragging on Utahime, begging Shoko to play his playlist instead of Geto’s and knowing she’ll never cave. But now, as he listens intently to Shoko, you think you’re seeing another side of him.

There’s something troubled on his face as she speaks, like he wishes he could reach into the past and help. Like he regrets it.

The bar’s not the only thing that has a different side in the daylight.

“She’s right,” Gojo tells Shoko. It’s not much, but she looks up at him a bit surprised, something in her expression softening. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, not quite there but not quite not. “You’ve got a pretty big heart under all that RBF.” Shoko rolls her eyes, the moment over.

“What about you?” You turn to Gojo, nudging the phone his way. “Why a college bar?”

Shoko turns toward him, leaning a hip against the bar, just as curious as you are. “I think kids deserve to be kids,” he shrugs. “And if I—if we—can create a space where it’s actually safe for them to do that, it feels important.” His gaze shifts from you and Toge to the empty bar, the stage and floor and high-top tables that tomorrow will be full of music and laughter and students knowing they’re allowed to let loose here.

“There aren’t a lot of places out there that are exclusively for students,” he continues. “It’s this weird phase, college, where you’re figuring out who you are, trying to take risks without losing too much. It’s a lot. And you look at the crime rates, date rape drugs, theft, DUIs, in the city, and it’s just—this place gives them the room to learn and grow and mess around and have a good time without the danger of the… I don’t know. The outside world. Does that make sense?”

He drums his fingers on the countertop, then seems to abruptly remember the recording and stops. “I think it’s just… well, no one’s allowed to take youth away from young people. So that’s why I’m here.”

You wonder what Gojo was like in school. He majored in gender studies, which you’re pretty sure is what Todo is at least minoring in, too—you’re not sure how it’s applicable to anything, but Nobara says he likes to pull his diploma out from behind the bar and say he’s an expert in women. It seems a far cry from this rare, more subdued version of Gojo you’re seeing right now. You’d guess he’s grown quite a bit in the time he’s been here. And Shoko’s been here to witness it.

He’s not a business owner, like Shoko or Geto. And according to Nobara, he definitely doesn’t need this gig to make a living. He’s here because he wants to be.

“These last few years have been nice, in particular,” he offers. “Just ‘cause some of us have kids going here. I mean, you know the Fushiguros. Suguru’s got the twins. And I know Ino’s not Nanami’s kid, but they’re tight.”

“Wait, what?” Nanami is the bar’s primary security guy, a bouncer who never lets a fake ID fool him. He’s part of the reason this place is so safe. Toge spins to look at you as you blurt out the question, caught off guard. “Uh, sorry. I just didn’t—I didn’t know they knew each other.”

Shoko studies you with tired, intelligent eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tables have been entirely flipped. You’re the one being interrogated, wordlessly, by the woman across the counter. You feel like every thought in your head is scrawled across your face for her to read.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, unaffected. “Ino looks up to him a lot, I think. Even though he’s an old man who reads the newspaper for fun.” He snorts. “He’s a good guy, though. And Ino’s a good kid.” He finally clocks the way Shoko’s looking at you and cocks his head, appraising.

Thankfully, Toge cuts in with another question. “So, we’ll be around tomorrow for the bands and to take some photos and observe,” he explains, glancing at you to make sure he’s got the information right. “Will Geto be around?” You’d wanted both owners’ perspectives, and now that Gojo’s reminded you of the twins, you’re even more curious.

“Yeah, Suguru and Utahime will be here tomorrow night,” Shoko says. “And Nanami. Geto would totally be down to talk to you some other time, too, when it’s a bit quieter.”

“Amazing,” you say, pulling the phone back toward you. You’ll need details, follow-ups, but you need to process this first, write some things down while they’re fresh in your mind. ‘Thank you so much for this. We appreciate it.”

“Anytime, kid,” Shoko says, waving you off. “See you tomorrow.”

As you turn off the recording, Gojo and Toge have already devolved into conversation about the bands and predictions about tomorrow night. A few posters are scattered across a low table near the door, and you pick one up, smiling at the blocky lettering advertising Black Flash. There are posters advertising all of the artists, and they look amazing, straight out of one of the alt rock venues in the wider city.

“They’re sick, right?” Gojo calls, nodding to the posters. “I gotta hang those up, actually. Thanks for the reminder.”

You wave goodbye to Shoko and Gojo and lead the way out, Toge just behind you.

“Man,” he says, and you brace yourself, recognizing his teasing tone for what it is. “They said Ino’s name and you look like scared Bambi or some shit.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, elbowing him.

He holds his hands up. “I’m just living in pursuit of the truth! Like Kusakabe would want.”

“Is your camera battery charged for tomorrow?” you say in a blatant attempt at a topic change.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Toge Inumaki, chronically irresponsible student and—”

“Okay, sorry I asked, holy shit.” He sticks his tongue out at you. Then he hesitates, frowning, and then he’s pulling out his phone and calling someone in his favorites list before you can see who it is. “Hey,” he greets. “What? No, she didn’t kick me out. Hey. Hey.” You snicker and Toge glares at you, pressing the phone closer to his ear. “Yutaaa,” he whines. “Do you know where my camera battery is?”

—

Even when you’re not the one on stage, you live for Fridays at The Fix. Tonight you’re doing double duty—because of the dual elimination at the end of the round, all of the competing artists are here. It’s not a requirement, but you want to see what you’re up against, and the sentiment seems to have carried. You and Toge are also in reporting mode for your project story.

The band on stage right now is… well, you can’t say new wave metal is really your thing, but it’s definitely theirs, and the audience is loving it. The Cull, you write in your notes. Look up names.

You couldn’t make out the lyrics if your life depended on it. It’s three guys and a girl, vaguely familiar, but you’re fairly certain they’re seniors and absolutely certain they’re baked right now.

“God, this is loud.” Yuta winces, turning to face you, and then his eyes flicker to something over your shoulder. You divert your attention from the stage and just catch the brief commotion in your periphery. Nanami has a kid by the elbow, and he’s escorting him out the side door, expressionless. The kid’s obviously drunk out of his mind, tripping over himself, shouting something that Nanami doesn’t bother to respond to.

Maki follows your gaze and wrinkles her nose up in distaste.

“Who’s that?”

“My cousin,” she says flatly. You glance quizzically at Megumi, who is definitely standing five feet away and not being escorted out of the bar.

“Dude, how much family do you have at this school?”

She sighs. “Just Mai and Megumi and him. Naoya. He’s a piece of shit.”

“Clearly,” Toge says. “He broke the M theme. No respect for the family alliteration.” Maki kicks him in the shin.

“One last round for The Cull!” Panda calls from the stage, and your ears slowly, very gradually stop ringing with the raging new wave music. The stage techs get to work behind Panda as he introduces the next group.

“Up next, making their debut, we’ve got a sophomore girl pop trio. Give it up for MOTION CAPTURE!”

There’s a big cheer from the bar, and you turn to see Geto grinning. Three girls take the stage, the blonde one grabbing the mic and adding, “All caps!” The girl beside her is very obviously her twin sister, though her hair is straight and dark while the blonde’s is tugged into pigtails. Light and dark. The girl on keys has a long, black bubble braid that she pushes out of the way as she settles in to play.

The blonde plugs in her electric and calls out, “Alright, I’m Nanako.” She tests out a chord, the sound reverberating, filling the bar all the way up to its high ceilings. “That’s Mimiko, that’s Remi, and we’re just here to have a good time.”

“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you jump. You turn to find Takuma holding two drinks, offering one to you.

“Oh! Aw, thanks, you didn’t have to do that. How much do I owe you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Takuma—”

“Nothing,” he reiterates. “Anyway, The Cull. Thoughts?”

You take the drink and try it while you think on your answer—it’s the same thing Nobara got you last week. How did he know?

“I didn’t really understand any of the lyrics,” you admit, shrugging. “They weren’t bad. Not really my genre. Do you know them?”

Takuma shakes his head. “I had a gen ed once with that Rin kid, but I don’t know the other ones. These girls aren’t bad, though.” He’s right—they’ve launched into an Olivia Rodrigo cover that’s actually decent. They could work on their voice control, but they’re young and fun and having a good time and working the crowd, and that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?

You sing along, alternating between your drink and exchanging quips with Toge and talking with Takuma. You like this new balance between your band and his, the easy camaraderie.

When the girls wrap up their set, you whoop and cheer and Kirara shamelessly watches Hakari move things off the stage, arms bare in his cut-off tank.

“You’re subtle,” Takuma tells her, and she tugs his beanie down over his face.

“Hey!”

You grab his drink before he can spill it and grin as he yanks his hat off and readjusts it. His hair is a fluffy mess underneath, and it’s kind of endearing.

When the girl pop trio is done, two guys take the stage, one in white and one in black. They’re clearly related, dark hair and pale skin and piercing eyes, and Panda introduces them as the Kamos. You don’t know if they’re brothers or cousins or what. But they’re good—they sing a few alt rock covers, play guitar.

“Damn,” Nobara sighs, a little longingly, her gaze settling on Choso as he takes over the chorus. “They’re…”

Beside her, Yuji wrinkles his nose. “Dude. That’s my half-brother.”

Nobara hums noncommittally. “And?”

He groans, tipping his head back and staring at the exposed beams of the ceiling, run through with colored lights. “Why does this always happen?”

Toge is taking more photos of them than is strictly necessary, considering your story is about the bar and not the band, but you let him have this. Scattered throughout the crowd are more kids with cameras, freshmen from the entry-level reporting classes with big underage stamps on the backs of their hands. Somebody mistook Toge for one of them earlier, and Maki hasn’t let it go all night.

You jot down atmospheric notes on your phone, little things that’ll help set the scene for your project lede, keeping an eye on the bar as much as you can. Geto has jumped in at the bar, which he usually does when the place gets busy, and Gojo is terrorizing Utahime again.

“How’d your interview go?” Takuma asks, nodding at your notes. It shouldn’t faze you so much that he remembers what you told him about your story, but you can’t help the little kick of your heart in your chest at the reminder.

“Good! Really good.” And then you catch sight of Nanami, back at the door after calling a cab for Maki’s asshat cousin. “Actually, Gojo mentioned you.”

Takuma’s brows shoot up. “Gojo? Why?”

Nanami has always seemed incredibly reserved, stony and silent in a way Takuma has never been. You don’t want to pry, but you’re also curious about the relationship between them, how they met, what they are to each other. The journalist in you wants to know.

And then there’s the part of you that just wants to know Takuma.

“Well, he was talking about the twins and the Fushiguros, and he kind of mentioned something about you knowing Nanami?” You try to sound casual, jerking your chin toward the door where Nanami is posted, like a tall, blond guard dog.

“Oh,” he says, surprised, but he shrugs, not seeming too alarmed by the question. “Yeah, I’ve known Nanami for… a long time. He’s kind of a mentor. He’s the reason I met Fushiguro in the first place, actually, ‘cause of him knowing Gojo.”

You’re considering asking how exactly they did meet when the Kamos wrap up, Nobara staring up at them dreamily, and the stage clears out for the final artist.

Whatever questions you had are thrown out the window, because you know who this is. Everyone knows who this is.

Fifth-year student and resident SoundCloud rapper, Ryomen Sukuna. Or D!SH0NORED1, according to the posters.

“Oh, here we go,” Megumi groans.

Despite his reputation on campus, you don’t know anyone who’s actually close to Sukuna, except Uruame. You mostly know that he deals at the skate park and that he’s clean about it.

And that his raps are truly, genuinely horrible.

He lets Panda give a stilted introduction and launches into a verse, mic too close to his mouth, making hand gestures or stepping to the beat of his backing track. His tattoos are even more stark and bold under the stage lights.

“My blood type’s B, your type is me, my zodiac Caprisun, it might be controversial but you’re still lookin’ at me, son!”

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Kirara mutters. “I’m gonna bleach my eardrums.”

“Caprisun?” Nobara whispers. “Oh, dude.”

You might be a terrible person for thinking it, but watching this guy’s performance makes you feel infinitely better about your odds of advancing in the tournament.

His final song is a new one he introduces as Frosted Flexin’, and Maki looks like she’s about ready to keel over dead.

“Frosted flexin’, I'm the cereal king, pourin' oat milk in the mix, yeah, I'm doin' my thing,” Sukuna spits in his low voice, swaggering up to the front of the stage. You are trying so hard not to lose it.

“Sukuna being an oat milk truther wasn’t on my bingo card,” Toge says.

“Got the swag of a squirrel and the brain of a dove, call me trash, but you're still showin' me love.”

“Thoughts on the amount of swag a given squirrel possesses?” you ask Takuma. He laughs, loud and bright, and then seems to very seriously consider the question.

“I don’t know if campus squirrels have swag. They live in luxury. They probably eat better than we do,” he says. You can’t argue that—you did once see a squirrel outside your sociology class run by with a full bagel in its mouth. “The wilderness squirrels, though, I think they got a scrappy kind of swag. Like, I wouldn’t cross them.”

You nod sagely. “I want them on my team in the apocalypse.”

He nudges you with a shoulder. “Am I on your team?”

You glance at him, make a show of looking him up and down. Maybe you’re imagining it, but you think he’s blushing a little. “I don’t know. How fast can you climb a tree?”

Sukuna is nearing the end of his song, now, saying, “Off-tune, out of sync, yeah, I know it's a sin, but you'll play it back twice 'cause I still might win.”

He actually, physically drops the mic and Hakari swoops in and catches it, clearing his throat and saying into it, “Yep, friendly reminder that equipment’s expensive! Everyone give our last artist of the night a hand, yeah?”

There’s scattered applause and more than a few confused faces as Sukuna lopes off stage, and Panda hops back up to explain the voting system for anyone who wasn’t here last week. “QR codes to the Google form are posted around the bar,” he says.

Out of all eight artists, the bottom two will be eliminated. You’re nervous. But voting was open last week too. You can’t vote as a member of the band, and it’s all done through school Google accounts to avoid double votes or the link getting sent out to non-students.

“Open until tomorrow morning,” Panda reminds the audience. “Results and second round schedules will be posted on the Instagram at some point tomorrow! That’s it for this Friday at The Fix. Have a great night, folks. Get home safe.”

Gojo whoops dramatically from the bar, and Panda gives him a weird look before getting off stage.

Your friends start heading toward the door, and you grab Toge and excuse yourself to catch Geto at the bar. Gojo sees you first. “The newsies!” he calls.

“Like the musical?” you say in lieu of a greeting. “Banger soundtrack.”

“I could dance on newspapers,” Toge says.

“Geto!” The Fix’s other owner smiles at you, soft and genuine. Part of his dark hair is pulled back and the rest hangs loose over his shoulders, a stark contrast to Gojo—like the Kamos, you think, or like Nanako and Mimiko. Light and dark. “We were wondering if you’d be down to set up a time to talk. Has Gojo told you about our story at all?”

Geto smiles, drying a glass and leaning against the bar. “He told me he’s gonna be the front page of every paper in the city, which I assume is a horrid exaggeration,” he says. Gojo looks affronted. “Shoko mentioned you’re doing a feature for class, though. I’d be happy to.”

“We have our Monday night class time open for field reporting the week after this one,” Toge offers. “Will you be around?”

“I will indeed. Utahime, too, if you want to speak to both of us. And Gojo won’t be here, which might be beneficial for you.”

“Suguru,” Gojo gasps, pretending to stagger back. “You wound me.”

“Mhm,” he says, unaffected. “What time works best for you two?”

You set up a time to interview Geto and Utahime, then say goodbye to him and Gojo and run to catch up to your friends. It’s a nice night, and since you didn’t have to deal with instruments, you all decided to walk.

“How goes the… journalisming? Journaling?” Takuma asks when you fall into step beside him.

“Good, all good. Reporting is maybe a better word, but valiant effort.”

“I like journalisming. Can you just submit words to the official dictionary? I’m gonna do it.”

“No,” Toge says, and you blink. He shrugs. “What? I tried once. But the only submission form I could find was for the Bureau of Linguistical Reality and it wasn’t like, a legitimate dictionary form. There’s all these requirements, it’s horrible.”

“What word did you try to submit?” you ask warily, not sure if you actually want to know.

“Some things,” Toge says solemnly, “are better kept secret.”

The night is hazy, only small rays of moonlight piercing through the cloud cover, and you make your way through the campus roads guided only by the streetlamps and Maki’s reliable sense of direction.

Part of you wants to ask Takuma to come over, or Yuji to insist the band come over to his place again, just so you can keep talking. But you have work to do, things to write and transcribe, lists of follow-up questions to make, and that’s only your workload for this one class. You still have exams this week, and you need to study now so you can balance it with rehearsals. Assuming you actually advanced to round two, that is.

And part of you worries you might be taking this too fast, too. You don’t typically integrate people into your life so quickly. You like spending time with Takuma and Kirara and Yuji and even Megumi, though he’s pretty quiet. You just don’t want to jump in too far too fast.

At your place, you say your goodbyes and head up to your room to get some work done. Toge uploads his photos and puts them in your project folder on Drive. And you spend the night doing what you do best, aside from drumming—writing.

Youth for the young: JU alumni run safest live music bar in city limits

You don’t even notice the time until it’s past one in the morning, and you’re nearly asleep at your desk. The dark has crept across your room, the only source of light the desk lamp and your laptop screen. Finally, you push the computer shut and flick off the light, flopping into your bed. A few missed messages pop up when you hold your phone up, wincing at the bright screen.

takuma: just letting you know i made the treacherous journey home safely takuma: many miles of hardship takuma: thought i was gonna die halfway there

You smirk and type out a reply.

you: did kirara have to save you takuma: i resent that takuma: (yes) takuma: wait why are you up it’s so late you: journalisming you: why are YOU up takuma: travel adrenaline takuma: (coding project due monday that i just started) you: TAKUMA

The next text to come through is a voice note, and you can’t help smiling as you hit play and his voice fills the open air of your bedroom.

“Okay, in my defense, I thought it was due next Monday. Which maybe isn’t my defense because it means I just can’t read due dates, or maybe I just can’t read, but I thought I had a lot more time and then one of my classmates texted me asking for help on this block of code and I told him I hadn’t started and he was like oh my god, Ino, it’s due in three days, and I was like no it’s not, we have so much time—turns out we don’t have so much time, so I’m over here staring at my screen until the vessels in my eyes pop—”

He yawns, and it makes you yawn too, despite the screen separating you. “Sorry, agh. Anyway, I have to write this program that uses some kind of randomized generator…”

You find your eyelids fighting gravity, exhaustion washing over you as he explains the project and all the reasons he’s not that worried about getting it done by Monday because actually he’s on a roll and it turns out the code isn’t that different from a similar project he did last year so he can just lift the main blocks over and wow, he’s tired, and you stifle a laugh as the voice memo comes to an end and he says, “Okay, gosh, I should go to bed. You should go to bed. Stop journalisming, Skip, get some sleep. G’night.”

You grin, plugging your phone in and sending him a voice memo of your own.

“I’m done journalisming. Still haven’t written that story on you, though. Night, Takuma.”

The last thing you see before you fall asleep is his reaction to your text. It’s a thumbs up, but after a few seconds, it disappears, replaced with a heart.

—

“I’m gonna die,” Nobara groans.

You’ve been checking Instagram every hour on the hour for the bracket results, but to no avail. The five of you are sprawled out in the living room, a Fleetwood Mac record spinning in the corner, cups of coffee and tea and scattered remnants of breakfast dotting the table and the floor and the windowsill.

You have post notifications on for the Battle of the Bands Instagram page, but you check anyway, as if you somehow missed it.

“Okay,” Maki says. “Cut it out. No phones.”

“Maki,” Toge groans. “How do we live with the suspense?”

“Go around and give a rundown of your week?” Yuta suggests.

“Aw, highs and lows, it’s like elementary school,” Nobara says happily. “I’ll go first! High: annoying slacker guy in my marketing class got a shit grade on the group project and the rest of us got As. Low: Skipper won’t give me Ino lore.”

“Lore,” you mimic. “I don’t have any lore. We’ve known each other for like, two weeks.”

“That’s enough time for lore,” she insists. “What’s your high? Ino?”

“Okay, jeez,” you say. “Maybe it’s that Toge and I had a really good first interview for our project story.”

Toge blinks at you.

“Fine, maybe it’s Takuma.”

Nobara grins in a way you can only describe as malicious. “Okay,” you say, pointing at her. “Low: whatever that is.” She sticks her tongue out at you.

“My low is Skipper bullying me in class,” Toge says. “And my high is she said she’d be my partner, so I’m not gonna fail.”

Yuta nods sagely. “Maki?”

“Uhh,” she says eloquently. “My parents won’t stop pestering me about fall break. But I aced a test on Thursday in anthro, so there’s that.”

“You’re not going home, right?” you ask. She shakes her head resolutely. Maki doesn’t go home unless she absolutely has to—one thing she and Mai actually have in common.

All of your phones go off at once, a mix of buzzes and beeps and Apple watchfaces lighting up, and Nobara screams. “I can’t look!” she cries. “Someone tell me!”

You click on the notification and pull up the post, heart racing.

The first slide is a generic Battle of the Bands announcement with the cool ass graphics you’ve been seeing on the posters. Whoever designs those needs a raise. The second image is the bracket for next Friday, with the first knockout round of three—only one group will move on to the finals. “Who is it?” Nobara asks anxiously, pacing the room. “Oh god, I’m gonna die.”

“Shibuya Incident,” you read off, unable to keep the smile from your face. “Angel.” Nobara groans overdramatically. “And the Kamos.”

You swipe to the next screen, heart in your throat. OCTOBER 18, it reads. THE CULL. CURSED TECHNIQUE. BLACK FLASH.

“Oh my god!” you scream. “Oh my god, we made it!”

Toge yanks you to your feet and starts hopping around the living room, and Nobara shrieks with joy as you pull her into the celebration. Even Maki and Yuta are sporting wide smiles as they watch the three of you bounce around like kids on a sugar rush.

“What, no Sukuna?” Maki teases when you’ve calmed down. Toge clears his throat and does his best impression, going as far as to make his pants sag a little around his waist.

“Frosted flexin’, I’m the cereal king, pourin’… uh, duh nuh nuh, something doin’ my thing,” he says in a deep voice. “Uh… squirrel? Somethin’ fuego, that’s Spanish, uhhh…”

“Oh my god, let me look it up,” Nobara cackles, pulling up SoundCloud. “It’s I’m the king of bad decisions, got a throne made of Legos, took a bite of my mic and said these bars are fuego.”

Yuta physically winces. “Does he really sag his pants like that?”

Toge shrugs. “It felt right in the moment.”

“Wait, who’s the other one eliminated, then?” you ask, running through the bands in your head. Yours, Takuma’s, Black Flash, the Kamos…

“Motion Capture,” Maki says.

“No, it’s all caps. You have to shout it. MOTION CAPTURE!” Toge hollers. Nobara snorts.

You aren’t entirely surprised, but you have a feeling the girls aren’t too put out about it. They’re young, too—they’ll have their time to shine eventually.

You grin, flopping back onto the couch. “Okay, rehearsal when? Tonight?”

“Yeah, I have to go to a friend’s to figure some stuff out for a project, but I’ll be back at like… five?” Yuta says.

“Oh, fuck, I gotta go too!” Nobara says, darting toward the stairs.

“Group project?” Maki asks.

“Shopping! I gotta pick Miwa up in like, ten minutes!”

Maki rolls her eyes fondly. Yuta stands up and grabs his bag, heading toward the entryway, and the rest of you gravitate instinctually to the kitchen. Nobara is out the door moments later with a wave and a shout, and Toge grins.

“What,” Maki deadpans, not a question.

“I printed memes to hide on her Polaroid wall. Be right back.”

You snort, turning your attention to the window to watch Nobara cruise down the block. The view of her sleek, small car is interrupted by Yuta’s jungle of plants.

“I hope they’re not too cold,” he says, frowning as he tugs a jacket on over his white hoodie. “Do they look okay to you?”

“Yeah,” you say, pointing to the one in the white, ovular pot. “Especially this one, it’s getting so big! What’s his name, Snorlax?” Yuta had a phase where he named at least six plants in a row after Pokèmon.

“No, that one’s Rika, after that TV show,” Maki corrects, not looking up. Yuta blinks, looks between her and the plant, whose vines have started to creep up the window. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Both of your eyes on her have her looking up from her phone, expression flat and unaffected. “What?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I didn’t know… anyone paid attention.”

Maki shrugs. “You talk to them out loud.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Yuta laughs and waves one last time before he walks out, closing the door behind him. You count to five in your head and then whirl on Maki, entirely unable to keep the shit-eating grin off your face.

“Kowalski, status report.”

She blinks at you. “What?”

“I said—”

“No, I know, just—on what? What happened?”

You groan, dragging the heels of your hands down your face. “Maki. Please.” You gesture wildly between her and the door, wondering if she’s genuinely this oblivious or if she’s just as good a liar as Mai. “Are you—did we not just witness the same interaction? Jesus, Maki, put the boy out of his misery!”

Seeing Maki frazzled is not a common occurrence. The most agitated you ever see her is talking about her family or trading passive aggressive jabs with Mai. This is an entirely new sort of disarray—she’s flustered.

“I—what?! I can’t do that! And he’s not miserable. He’s that nice to everyone.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands with your elbows on the counter. “Maki! He likes you. And your face is telling me you like him back.”

She scoffs, turning her head down and crossing her arms defensively. “I’m not messing things up by dating my bandmate. We live together, Skip, he’s my best friend, if things got messy—”

You hold up a hand. “First of all, offensive. I’m your best friend. Second of all, I hear no denial. Also, it won’t get messy. You are the two most mature people in this house and you know how to separate personal from practical. If anything, it’s gonna kill the vibes of the band and the house if you just keep stewing in the sexual tension.”

“Oh my god,” Maki groans. “There. Is. No. Sexual. Tension.”

“There’s always sexual tension,” Toge announces, walking in and jumping up onto the countertop, legs swinging. He looks between the two of you innocently. “What are we talking about?”

“You might be of some help, actually,” you say, turning to Toge with your hands clasped.

“Uh, actually? Not oh, Toge, you’re always so helpful, thank god you live with me and keep my life interesting—”

“Nevermind.”

“No, pleeease,” Toge insists, sticking out his lower lip. “What?” His gaze shifts to Maki, who’s blushing a furious red. His mouth turns into a small O. “This is about Yuta?”

You didn’t think she could get any more scarlet, but here she is.

“Does everyone think that?” she groans, throwing her head back in exasperation.

Toge shrugs. “I thought we were all just quietly skirting around it until you both snapped.”

“Nobara doesn’t skirt around anything,” Maki says.

“Well, there’s no way she doesn’t know,” you point out. “Maybe she just respects both of you enough to leave it alone.”

“Hah!” Toge snorts, poking you in the ribs. “That means she doesn’t respect you. She wants the Ino lore.”

“I’m gonna tell Nobara about the memes.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Abruptly, you realize you never got around to Yuta for highs and lows, what with the chaos of the brackets dropping. “Ah, guys,” you say. “We missed Yuta.” You pull up the house group chat.

you: YUTA DROP YOUR HIGH AND LOW IN THE CHAT you: YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN freak no. 1: yes you are utah: haha aw that’s nice utah disliked a message from freak no. 1 utah: uhh low is maybe that toge keeps leaving memes all over our room. like i keep finding them tucked in my notebooks and everything freak no. 1: SLANDER freak no. 1: LIBEL you: not the same thing freak no. 1: SHUT UP utah: high is someone remembers the names of my plants!! :) nobara: Sorry, using voice text while I drive. Who knows the names of your plants? You and God? utah: maki! :)

“Okay, well, respond,” Toge says, poking Maki in the side. She glares at him and likes Yuta’s message.

“Guys,” she says exasperatedly. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Does he know?”

And you’re not sure, honestly. You don’t know that Yuta is even aware of his own feelings, let alone aware that Maki reciprocates them. You shrug helplessly. “How about… ask?”

“Jesus,” Maki says.

“Not him, Yuta.”

Maki socks Toge in the shoulder and levels him with a disdainful look. “You are the bane of my existence.”

“And the object of all your desires,” Toge proclaims in a horrendous Bridgerton accent. He made you watch all of it with him in two days. Maki refused.

Now, she just shoves him, and he squeals as he falls off the kitchen counter.

“Children,” you sigh. “Do you need to be separated?”

“Yes!”

—

“Why is this so hard?” You stand with your feet planted on Takuma’s skateboard, which is confoundingly, entirely different than balancing atop your longboard. “Oh my god.” You lurch forward as the board rolls a bit to the left, unable to stifle the squeal that comes out of your mouth.

Takuma stops it with one foot.

“Your center of balance is lower on a longboard,” he laughs. “Like, here.” His hands wrap around your waist and you tense under his grip, and he immediately freezes, jerking his arms back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“No! No, it’s okay,” you blurt, sheepish. “I just wasn’t expecting it, I—here.” You try to fight the blush furiously rising in your cheeks as you take his wrists in both hands, putting them back where they were. You clear your throat, suddenly too warm. “Um. Okay, so—do you turn the same way?”

“Pretty much. You just lean,” Takuma says, and you shift your weight to your heels, letting him steady you. “It’s a bit harsher than you would on a longboard, though. Unless you want me to send you right into kickturns?” His tone is teasing and you pretend to consider, tapping a finger against your chin.

“Mm. Maybe later.”

You’ve been at the skate park for a while now, and you’ve only recently ditched your longboard for the skateboard. Takuma brought the extra board you saw hanging on his wall the other day, and he uses it to demonstrate while you practice riding back and forth, getting a hold on your balance. After you feel like you can make it a good distance without pinwheeling your arms, you come to a staggered stop beside him.

A flash of blue-green hair grabs your attention, and you watch a kid in a lightning bolt hoodie slip under the ramps. The park has been pretty deserted today aside from a few guys doing tricks in the pit, a chilly Sunday with the sunlight muted by the clouds.

“Ooh, drug deal in action.” You poke Takuma in the side.

“Ah, probably Sukuna. He deals here all the time.” Sukuna’s business is one of those things everyone’s aware of but nobody talks about. He’s consistent and pretty safe, as far as drug dealers go, but he’ll deny any involvement while smoking a joint if he has to.

“Who’s space buns?”

“Uhh…” Takuma narrows his eyes, and the guy slips out again. “Damn, that was fast. Oh, that’s Hajime. Another senior, I think. They hate each other. Fastest deals I’ve ever seen.”

“I wonder how much of his songwriting is just… while he’s really, really high,” you muse. Swag of a squirrel doesn’t strike you as a particularly levelheaded thought, but hey, it’s certainly memorable.

Takuma leans in and says conspiratorially, “I’m pretty sure I heard him dropping bars here the other day when I was with Yuji.”

You snort and look up at one of the smallest ramps, one you think you could handle without falling on your face, and point to it with a raised brow.

“Oh, moving up in the world?” Takuma kicks his board up and starts walking over, and you do the same. Before you put the board down at the top of the ramp, though, you hold it up to the light, noticing a few short, white hairs caught on the surface.

“Is this… fur?” Maybe there was a cat hiding out somewhere when you were over. Kirara seems like she’d have a cat.

Takuma sighs. “Yeah, the dogs shed like crazy. It gets everywhere. I don’t think I even left that on the ground.”

Your jaw drops, and you stare at him until he looks back at you. “Dogs?”

“What? Yeah, Fushiguro’s—”

“Fushiguro has dogs? Dogs plural? In the house?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” you cry. “What? Oh my god! Where were they on Wednesday? How many? What are their names?”

Takuma leans back on the rail next to the ramp, grinning. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. Oh my god. They’re so cute. Tsumiki had them Wednesday, I think. Mandated auntie time. Do you wanna meet ‘em?”

“Do I want to meet them?” you repeat, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Uh, yeah. Are they home? Oh my god. I love dogs.”

“I couldn’t tell,” he deadpans, but he’s smiling still. “Yeah, they’re home. And you can meet them if you go down this ramp without dying.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, situating yourself on the board. “But I will. And then I’ll meet the dogs and become their best friend and they’ll love me more than you and Megumi combined.”

“Confident.” He comes up beside you, checking your stance. The ramp didn’t look steep or long at all from your vantage point across the park, but now that you’re atop the board, it feels suddenly very steep and very long. “You got it. Just don’t panic, keep your stance.” He drops his own board and cruises down the ramp, hardly even trying.

“Okay, go!” he calls from the bottom. “C’mon, Skip, the dogs are waiting.”

“Oh, god,” you murmur, the wind catching your words and whisking them away. You ball your hands into fists and push off, planting your foot back on the board and trying to keep your knees bent, but not too stiff, as you careen down the ramp. Don’t panic, keep your stance. You’re at the bottom in what feels like nanoseconds, and the sudden shift from ramp to flat ground has you stumbling off the board with an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak of alarm.

“Nice!” Takuma laughs as he catches you, the board rolling a few more feet ahead. His arm is wrapped around your front, the other holding you up by the shoulder, and this time you don’t tense under his hands.

“Thanks,” you say a little breathlessly, grinning, the tiny spike of adrenaline making you almost lightheaded. He lets his hands drop when you’re steady on your feet, and part of you mourns the warmth a little. But there are more pressing matters at hand. “So, about those dogs?”

You opt for your longboard on the way back down your street, cruising along beside Takuma, who has his extra board tucked under his arm. You’ve got a lot to do tonight, all the last-minute preparation for another crazy week, but you can and will drop everything to pet a puppy. Or two. Always.

And they’re actual angels. Big, fluffy angels on earth, one white and one black, and they’re all over you the second you open the door.

“Hi!” you say happily, sinking down to their level. The white one immediately tries to burrow into your lap. “Oh, hello! You’re so nice, aren’t you?” You glance up at Takuma. “Where’s Megumi?” You grab the white one’s collar and check the tag—Shiro.

“Shiro thinks she’s a tiny dog,” he says, bending down to ruffle the fur behind her ears. “Uh, Fushiguro’s at the animal clinic. He works there Sundays. And Tuesdays, I think.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, he’s a vet student. You didn’t know?”

“I did not.” The black one is licking your face, and you giggle and check his tag, too. Kuro. “Hi, Kuro. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

“He’s got such a soft spot for animals,” Takuma says as he kicks off his shoes. “You should see when they both try to sleep in his little twin bed. It’s ridiculous.”

“I love them,” you say, burying your face in Kuro’s scruff. “Hi, doggies. You’re awful cute, you know that? Mhm. Yes you are.”

When you finally look up again, Kuro’s cold nose nudging insistently at your palm, Takuma is leaning against the wall, looking down at you with his phone discreetly angled your way. “Takuma!”

He laughs, not bothering to hide it anymore, very clearly taking photos of you with the dogs. “It’s cute!” he insists. “I’ll send them to you. Proof for Fushiguro of your master plan to make them like you more than him.”

“And you,” you remind him.

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

You gesture pointedly to the two dogs, who are all over you and not him. It’ll be a nightmare trying to get all of Shiro’s white fur off your black jacket later, but it’s worth it.

“You’re new,” he says. “New scent. It’s the novelty factor. I am their favorite.”

“You sure? I’m pretty hard to compete with.”

He smiles, looking from you to the photos he took of you and the dogs. “Yeah,” he says. “You are.”

—

The first half of the new week goes by in a rushed routine of classes, homework, and rehearsals, each night ending with you collapsing into bed, new and old lyrics fighting for dominance in the back of your mind. Sticks re-taped and drum heads re-tuned, assignments turned in and drafts edited. Your classes are ramping up as midterms approach, and Yuta bounces between his own work and poking his head into everyone’s rooms, making sure they don’t forget about dinner.

Toge follows through on his snack run promise, and the two of you spend hours on Tuesday afternoon trading two different flavored bags of Doritos back and forth, Toge writing photo captions while you edit your story lede.

Takuma, Hakari, and Kirara have offered to help Cursed Technique record a single on Wednesday night, and the five of you have been drilling the new song you wrote up, down, and sideways.

Finally, Wednesday arrives, and you’re all crammed into the recording studio space, instruments set up and headsets tuned in.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Nobara says to Hakari on the other side of the glass. She taps a finger on the mic in demonstration, and you hear it in your own headphones.

“Great,” he says. “Skipper?”

“Skipper? I hardly know her,” Toge says, earning a harmless smack upside the head from Yuta and a not harmless smack upside the head from Maki.

“I will throw these at you,” you tell him, holding up your sticks. Toge sticks his bottom lip out, pouting.

A snicker from beside you draws your attention back to Takuma, kneeling just beside the throne as he adjusts the kick mic. He has you hit it a few times while Hakari monitors the levels. You feel oddly self-conscious like this, him looking up at you, but then he smiles and it’s not strange at all. It’s stupid how fast he can put you at ease with a look.

“Nice,” he says. “Okay, that should work, yeah, Hakari?”

It’s Kirara who answers, “Yeah, you’re good.”

Takuma stands up, claps his hands together once, and looks at you. “Okay. Kill it, Skip.”

“Yessir.” You salute him with a stick and he makes his way to the other room, closing the door behind him.

“All good?” Yuta asks, glancing at each of you in turn before giving Hakari a thumbs up. It’s strange to be on this side of the glass, to think about your music being played back, to think about it on Spotify, out in the world.

“Next Fix,” Takuma says into the mic, locking eyes with you through the window. “Take one in three, two…”

The song starts out simple. You click your sticks together near the mic, on two and four, while Maki lays down a four-bar loop.

Yuta keeps glancing at Maki while she plays, utterly unaware, and the look on his face is so soft you want to shake Maki by the shoulders until she does something about it.

Nobara’s got her eyes closed with the headset over her ears and her hands around the mic, entirely engrossed in the song.

“It’s comin’ on, comin’ strong, spinnin’ up out of the blue, mmm,” she sings, stretching out the vowels. “And I’m on the ground, bleedin’ out, until my next fix of you, ooh.”

Now you start up with a light rock beat, closed hat and a bit of a dragging buzz on the snare hits. Just as you transition into the beat, Toge comes in with some low chords and Yuta moves down the line in syncopated sixteenths.

Hakari is nodding approvingly and Takuma has a wide grin on his face, and you can’t help smiling back.

“I need it like a lung,” Nobara sings, swaying a bit. “I need it like a light. It’s got me twisted up. I need you here tonight, tonight, tonight, oh, oh, I wanna—”

And this part is your favorite—Nobara sings each two-syllable phrase while you pound on the toms twice, emphasizing it with the kick, and then the backup vocals echo her. Get my (get my) next fix (next fix) of you (of you, of you, of you.)

Kirara pumps her fist in the air twice, in time with the beat, and your bandmates can’t keep the smiles off their faces. You’ve got something here, you really do. This might be your best one yet.

When the song’s over, Nobara whoops and tugs off the headphones, jumping around the cramped studio space with a grin on her face. “That was so cool! Oh my god. Guys, we sound good. We actually sound good.”

“Damn,” Kirara calls. “Okay, girl drummer. Good shit.”

“Not bad for a first run,” Maki admits, adjusting her bass strap over her shoulder. “Do we wanna try recording backups separately at all?”

“Good call.” Takuma nods. “Let’s run that again without the backups and record them over, see what happens.” He’s in full producer mode, flipping switches, colored lights reflecting in his eyes as he and Hakari talk shop away from the mic. He’s good at this, you realize, running sessions like this, making sure things go where they need to go, that everyone’s heard, that things get done. It’s a little bit like watching him skateboard, or seeing him on stage. There’s a confidence to him here, a smooth, easy energy. He’s in his element.

“Alright,” he says after a minute. “Let’s hear that again.”

And you play it again. And again. And again. And you are so in love with this moment, with your band, with a couple rowdy kids on the other side of the window, the rasp in Nobara’s voice and the expression on Yuta’s face and Maki’s obliviousness and Toge’s consistent, head-banging keys, and your drums and your words and the music, and the lyrics feel right to you.

You need this like a lung.

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jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32

a/n: GUYS. loml @shutuppeter is so downbad for soundcloud rapper sukuna that she's writing fanfic of my fanfic😭 credits for frosted flexin' are all hers LMFAO so go check that out (MDNI for that one though).

yutamaki nation rise. also, i kinda love this fic. there may be spinoffs for other characters in the works...

[duhragonball]

Daima 06: Lightning

Centipedes? In my rations? It's more likely than you think!

Last time, Goku's group set out for the next leg of their trip, when the plane crashed. Apparently it wasn't that big a deal. Panzy concludes that they put too much luggage on board, which kept the plane from flying very far, but it didn't actually do much damage. Panzy recommends they leave a bunch of their supplies behind and she'll give the engine a look and they can be on their way.

Okay, I think there's a growing consensus among fans that Daima is slower-paced, and maybe this is setting up a controversy over whether this is a good or bad thing. Maybe the honeymoon period for the show is winding down, or we're just far enough into the series for the audience to realize it's probably going to be this way from here on. So I'll go ahead and weigh in on this.

For my part, I think the pacing is fine. It's different from the other shows in that you don't have this constant reliance on filler to pad the runtime. We're not checking in on King Kai to see what he thinks about all of this, or sending Goku on a fetch quest that ends up becoming a plot cul-de-sac. Instead, we're mostly laser-focused on this one set of characters on a journey, and occasionally we'll switch over to Gomah or Bulma's group on Earth, and pretty infrequently too.

But Daima does its own padding for time, and it does it by lingering a bit on things that probably don't need quite so much time. Conversations take a bit longer than they need to. The running gag where Goku gets Glorio's name wrong. The fight scenes are a tag gratuitous, but I think everyone gives them a pass because they're good. Still, I don't think anyone was worried about whether Goku could win that barroom brawl. If this show had half as many episodes allotted to the same plot, I'm pretty sure they could cut a lot of material and get the important stuff to fit.

I don't mind that much, because this relaxed pace kind of reminds me of reading the Dragon Ball manga. By that, I mean each episode kind of feels like a manga chapter, and not that much gets done in a single chapter. You might have several panels of characters getting to know each other, and then just enough exciting stuff to make the chapter feel worthwhile. Actually now that I think about it, it's a lot like my experience reading the Jaco the Galactic Patrolman manga. It's like twelve chapters, and the first five or so are very focused on introducing characters and situations, so it really doesn't pick up until the end, and even then, it's still quite low-key. But it's so good that I didn't mind it. It was just really chill. Daima feels a lot like that.

That having been said, I do find this plane crash between Episodes 5 and 6 kind of a cheap way to waste time. King Kadan described all the extra provisions he loaded onto the plane in Episode 5, then the plane started to go down and Panzy said it was the excess luggage. Then in Episode 6 the plane lands and Panzy repeats that the luggage was the problem, and she lists all the supplies all over again.

Then Panzy gets out her tools to run a diagnostic on the engine, but instead of actually working on the plane, she asks the Supreme Kai what his whole deal is. And that's fine, but it starts to wear thin in places. Like, they could have just had this conversation on the plane and gotten wherever they're going. The plane crash just adds time, and I'm not sure how many more times they're going to pull that trick before it gets old.

Nevertheless, I'd rather watch these characters talk about themselves outdoors than on the plane, so I'm not too worked up over it. But I can already tell this is going to be a focus for Daima critics in the future.

I like the way Goku explains the Supreme Kai. He tells Panzy there's a "bunch of god-like guys called 'Kais.' And the greatest one of them all is Supreme Kai-sama here!" and he gives him a hug while he says it, like he's bragging on a pal, which I guess he is. I just think it's nice to hear Goku's perspectives on all of his friends.

Panzy's impressed that Shin is a god, and that he made a smart move leaving the Demon Realm to take the job, but then she finds out he doesn't get paid, so it sounds less impressive to her. This kind of raises more questions than answers. Does Panzy even understand what a god is? Also, it seems pretty clear now that Shin and all the other Kais were born in Demon Realm and left to become gods in the Outer Universe, but how did that work? Did Grand Zeno put up a help-wanted sign? Were their other overseers that the Glind replaced when they became the Kais?

I just always assumed these guys were some sort of weird feature of the design of the universe. Like, there were always Kais running things, and they were literally born and bred to carry out that role. But no, they're just Demon Realm expats who showed up to work one day. If the universe functioned without them before, then why do we need them now? Hopefully this series will answer all of this.

Anyway, Goku's gotta poop, so he just announces this to everyone for no reason. He farted in Episode 3, so I have this sneaking suspicion that this show is going to do a lot of Goku poop-and-fart stuff as we go. That might be a good idea, as it keeps the show from getting too reliant on "Goku's hungry" gags. GT did those a lot, and it got pretty ridiculous. It got to where Goku would complain about being hungry right after he got done eating. If he said he had to poop half the time, at least it would cut the hungry gags down to a manageable level.

Anyway, Gomah's troops show up while they're waiting for Goku, so Glorio and the others have to play it cool to get rid of them. Glorio claims to be from the First Demon World, and Shin from the Second, but since Panzy's from the Third, they want to scan her collar, which she has under her scarf. Gomah apparently made all the Third Worlders wear the collars to make it easier to collect taxes from them, but he didn't implement this policy elsewhere, since the goons aren't too suspicious of Glorio or Shin. They find the idea of tourists traveling around the Third World strange, but let them go. Oh, and they ask if they've seen a kid with spiky hair and red pole, because there's a ten gold coin reward out for him.

Goku returns when they leave, and Shin suggests that Goku tie his hair back or something. Goku says his hair is too resilient for this. Oh, right, there was that Super episode where he had all that hair gel in it, and his hair sort of broke loose like when the Incredible Hulk rips through Banner's pants legs but not the crotch. Panzy asks if Goku washed his hands, and the answer to that question is no. Goku, that's nasty.

The gang take off again, and Panzy asks Shin if it's true that Glinds are born from trees. Shin confirms this, so I'm glad we're not doing away with that lore. I was seriously beginning to wonder if Toriyama forgot about all that stuff, or if he was dumping it in favor of new lore. Of course, this is all news to Goku, so the Supreme Kai explains how his kind are born "once every few centuries from the Glind Tree". There's a flashback to show this, and we see these trees with big purple trunks that are all fat on the bottom, and the newborn Glinds are in these holes in the bark, just hanging off of stems from their backs.

Also interesting to note: the Glind buildings and vehicles in this shot look a lot like Namekian houses and ships. I don't know if that's intentional, or this is just Toriyama's aesthetic for this sort of thing. I always thought Majin Buu's house looked a lot like Namekian architecture, for example.

So does that make the Supreme Kai and the other Glinds plants? I never really thought of it that way, so Goku raises an interesting point. Shin says he "doesn't know about that". I feel like there ought to be a firm answer to this, one way or another. Goku also asks if this is why Shin only drinks liquids and never eats, but Panzy jumps in before he can respond. I feel like we've seen Shin eat before, but oh well.

Panzy wants to know about Degesu, who works as Gomah's second-in-command. Is he Shin's brother? Yes, because he was born from the same tree about 216 years after Shin. Are all of the Glinds brothers, since they're all born from the same tree? No, because there's five Glind Trees. Kibito and the Elder Supreme Kai must have been born from one of the others.

Panzy wants to know why Degesu remained in the Demon Realm instead of leaving with the other Glinds? Okay, this implies that there was one Glind migration out of Demon Realm, and Degesu chose not to go. But for this to work, it must have happened after Degesu's birth, which is well after Shin's.

The thing is, Kibito is much older than both of them, and the other Supreme Kais from Universe 7 are even older still. I'm talking about the ones who fought Majin Buu and Bibidi like five million years ago. The whole point of all that was that Shin was the rookie Supreme Kai, implying that the others had been doing the whole god thing for a lot longer.

And then you have the Elder Supreme Kai, who's much, much older still. He claimed to be the Supreme Kai from fifteen generations prior. I'm not even sure what that means if they were all born from the same five trees. Maybe it just means there were thirteen Supreme Kais between the Elder and the current Supreme Kai. But Shin reigned as Supreme Kai for at least five million years, so these aren't short terms in office.

I'm not too worried about this, because I have to assume we'll get to an episode that explains the Namek and Glind exodus from Demon Realm. They keep bringing it up, so it must be important. And I guess this is what I mean when I say I don't mind the slow pace of this show. There's still a lot to look forward to, even if it's just characters swapping lore.

But back to Degesu, Shin says that he was very ambitious and didn't get along with the other Glinds. That doesn't seem like much of an answer to me. Then again, Shin came along on this mission because he hasn't seen Degesu in so long and he really doesn't know what he's been up to after all this time. He may not know a whole lot about him in the first place.

Panzy asks about a Glind woman who's a genius scientist, and Shin confirms that this is Arinsu, his older sister. Or, more accurately, they're siblings, since Glinds don't actually have genders, so they're not "exactly men or women."

Again, I had heard this about the "Core People" before, and I'm glad they didn't toss out this lore. I've never quite understood it, though, since the Elder Kai is big horndog, and the Supreme Kai of Time once got a big crush on Bardock in Xenoverse 2. Arinsu has big ol' titties, and I don't know how you get those if you grow from a tree. Like, none of these guys have anything to do with sex at all, right? The trees might have freaky deaky alien tree sex, but not the Glinds themselves.

Then again, I guess this is all just fantasy stuff, and I might as well be asking why Arinsu has nostrils or ears. There must be some magic that makes these trees grow people, and maybe some of them end up with big ol' titties or a magnum dong or both or neither. But until today I kind of figured all of the Kais were just completely smooth down there. Like they didn't even have buttholes.

Perhaps they modify their bodies at some point in their life cycle, and some of them present as man or women just out of a personal preference or some sense of fashion. This might explain the Supreme Kai of Time's transformation where she gets really tall and shapely. They all sit around figuring out what they want to look like, like they're screwing around with a character creator mode in a video game. Chronoa's like "Yeah, I want my base form to be all smol and cute, and then my super form's gonna have a big ass and big-ass titties."

Wait, maybe I'm onto something. The Supreme Kai gave Goku those pointy ears with remarkable ease. Maybe that's not a special weird power that only gods have. Maybe all the Glind have it and they do it to themselves all the time. Degesu just gives himself a third testicle for a week to "see how it rides."

Anyway, we don't learn anything new about Arinsu in all of this. She's a mad scientist who also stayed behind for the excitement of Demon Realm, but this was already known.

Night falls and Panzy explains that it's perpetual twilight on Third Demon World nights because there's two suns. Glorio wants to land and make camp in a cave for the night, and Panzy hates this because she wants to shower. Goku's like "skill issue, just never shower, like I do."

While Goku sleeps off dinner, Panzy asks why Glorio says he's from First World, when he looks like a Third World guy. He claims that he got hired by someone in First World, so he currently lives there. Who hired him? He deflects the question. Shin asks why he wants to defeat Gomah, and he claims it's because Gomah is evil, but Shin finds it odd for a Majin to have such a defined sense of justice.

Anyway, we find out exactly who Glorio's working for, because he phones up Dr. Arinsu while the others are asleep. But Shin hears him return to camp, so he clearly knows something's up, even if he doesn't know what.

By early morning, a minotaur comes out of the cave they're sleeping in, and he plans to eat them all. Apparently he stinks really bad. Goku isn't scared because he thinks the guy is a cow, so he doesn't get why this guy thinks he's on the other end of the food chain. Normally this is where Goku would kick some ass, but Glorio volunteers first, and Goku's like "Uh, I'm the main character, I should fight this guy." But Glorio doesn't see it that way, because he doesn't think Goku's that much stronger. Well, there's only one way to settle this, so it's on.

Yeah, the minotaur gets reduced to a spectator, and it's Goku vs. Glorio. Goku's impressed with Glorio's abilities, but we all know he's not trying very hard. Finally, Glorio whips out some purple lightning powers, and Shin asks Goku to fight harder so he can see the true extent of Glorio's power. I guess he figures that'll help him understand Glorio's agenda better.

So Goku fights harder, but Glorio manages to knock the Nyoibo out of Goku's hand, and he prepares to fire some big finishing lightning move. Goku decides to try something out, and he turns Super Saiyan. He did this briefly in Episode 5, but now he's staying in that form, and just stands there and lets Glorio shoot at him so he can try to deflect the beam. And he does. He just throws out his hand and it dissipates on contact. Goku does a little self-satisfied "Hmp!" and then snap-vanishes behind Glorio and puts his hand on his back. Fight's over, Goku wins.

This is a really great way to introduce Super Saiyan into the series. This is very likely the most iconic aspect of Dragon Ball. Maybe the Kamehameha clears it, but I don't think there's much else that comes close. So it's hard to imagine viewers who don't know anything about the form, but they're still out there and they need to know. So we have Goku fighting in base form, and then he decides to use it, not to win a hopeless battle, but to do something cool in a sparring match. Base Goku could probably have done something else to defend against Glorio's power, but Super Saiyan Goku can just tank the thing and get past Glorio's guard all at once.

It doesn't give away the entire Super Saiyan experience. It's a power up, and it shows a lot of promise, but here, it's just one of Goku's many techniques. The full extend of it can be shown off later. It's still an open question how well Goku can fight this way. He's been de-aged, and the environment in Deamon Realm slows him down further, so it's possible that he can't use Super Saiyan as long as he could before, or maybe he can, and it just doesn't give him the same boost that it normally does.

Also, it's just really cool to see Goku enjoy showing it off. He does this cool smile when he finishes transforming, and he looks all badass when he blocks Glorio's beam, and he's grateful that he can still do it in his kid body. "Yep, I'm whatcha call a legend, nbd. The missus doesn't like the hair color, but what're ya gonna do, right?"

Oh, right the minotaur. Well Goku hasn't forgotten him, but the minotaur suddenly remembers that he had a big dinner the night before, so he's too full to kill and eat these guys like he said he would, so he goes back to bed. Well, that's a shame. Maybe they should swing by this cave on their return trip.

Goku poop update: He has to go again.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Vegeta is doing reps on the Lookout while Bulma finishes the Supreme Kai's old plane. They all pile in to follow Goku to Demon Realm, but Bulma… stays behind? That's weird. Anyway, the ship lifts off, then immediately breaks down. It didn't even get twenty feet into the air. So that's another plane crash cliffhanger for you. I sure hope this show finds a more reliable mode of transportation soon.

[mikuni14]

15 Day BL Challenge - Day 4

Day 4: Fave Ship Dynamic

Since I can't choose one favorite dynamic, I'll allow myself to write a few:

EQUALITY in a relationship will always be my top priority, which I understand as a situation where no one is exploited, or led like a child in the relationship, or dominated, even if one of them is naturally dominant. To make it more complicated, I actually like relationships in which one is clearly more dominant, for example stronger physically, or in the hierarchy, is richer, has power, BUT NOT OVER THEIR LOVED ONE, is actually even dependent on him. The point is that both have the same power over each other, are equally dependent on each other, both support each other to the best of their abilities, no one gives more or less. It is ideal when the seamingly "weaker" one has even a slight advantage in the relationship, to make it more fair. A good example of this relationship is Hannibal or Nagron 😋 There are many BL series with equal characters, most of them will appear below (but I'll start with a gif of these guys, equal in everything, and that widening of Zhou Zi Shu's eyes at the sight of Wen Ke Xing is one of the best things in BLs I've ever seen 💖)

most often, equality in a relationship goes hand in hand with my second favorite dynamic: when both are mature. I LOVE it when a couple is made up of adults, mature people who know who they are, know that they are interested in each other and the only obstacles in their relationship are external. From BL series, these are: Laws of Attraction, Manner of Death, Jun & Jun (excellent examples 10/10) as well as The Untamed, Word of Honor, KinnPorsche, 4 Minutes, Our Dating Sim, To Sir, With Love. This equality and maturity can just as well appear in series with young characters as in The On1y One

my other favorite dynamic also goes hand in hand with equality: when both are smart, they are professionals in what they do, like in The Sign, Laws of Attraction, The On1y One, Be Loved In House: I Do, Jun & Jun (see the gif above) and of course The Untamed and Word of Honor (I can't help but mention Beyond Evil, The Devil Judge, Killer and Healer, not BLs we all know better 😎)

when both are good at communication, I love it when characters TALK to each other, even when they argue, as long as they COMMUNICATE

the best and the rarest: when they trust each other and believe in each other, that the other person will handle the truth, the problems, that they will help, that TOGETHER THEY WILL DEAL with whatever life throws at them, when they talk about what's going on in their lives including the bad stuff, no noble sacrifice and keeping the loved one in the dark "for their own good". It's very possible that in all the BLs I've watched there was a couple who was honest with each other from the beginning until the end, but I can't remember one now... (Beyond Evil, Love in Translation started doing it by the end)

but I also like it when someone in the couple is unhinged, crazy, like Sahashi in Cosmetic Playlover, or a himbo like Sprite in Twins, or a golden retriever type but a real one like in Sing My Crush, especially when the other one is a bit grumpy and gloomy, like in those series, I love it!

I also like calm, stoic, solid types, at the same time totally whipped for their loved ones 🥰 such as the characters played by Noh in Nitiman and Oh! My Sunshine Night. Special mention should be made of someone similar to this type, but also noble and old-fashioned in a charming way, like San from Century of Love, and the guys from To Sir, With Love

[alexanderwales]

I finished the rest of Save the Cat almost in a single sitting, not because it was particularly riveting, but because I had time to kill, so this pseudo-liveblog is at an end.

Chapter 6 and 7 are basically the same, collections of small tricks and tips. Neither of them are terribly helpful, and all the tricks have terrible shorthand names like "Pope in a Pool". There's very little in the way of any thematic cohesion to these bits of advice, and no grand theory of the Laws of Storytelling emerges, in spite of the laws being invoked a number of times.

The advice itself is, I think, generally good:

give the reader something to root for early on to kickstart investment

spice up exposition with something entertaining

only one kind of magic per plot

don't tell a story that requires too much setup

don't tell a story with too many moving parts

include a ticking clock

have character arcs

keep the scope limited to the characters we care about

make the hero proactive

show, don't tell

make the bad guy very bad

the plot should go faster the further in it goes

use the whole spectrum of emotion

make sure each character has a distinct voice

make sure desires are "primal"

give characters something that makes them stand out

I don't endorse this whole list, and I especially don't endorse the way that Blake Snyder talks about them or the examples that he gives. And if I endorsed the list, then I would include a lot of caveats, and some general principles of storytelling that should be followed, rather than these specific pieces of advice, which are all conditional. Like ... okay, here's an example:

Exposition is a broccoli that the audience doesn't want to eat. There are very different ways of dealing with this, but we can start with "minimize exposition" as the first "law" of storytelling, and from there, we have different strategies:

Spruce up the exposition, making it into a mini-story, delivered in an entertaining way, so that people aren't bored.

Run something alongside the exposition so that people aren't bored, like sight gags in a comedy or an action scene in a thriller.

Have the exposition delivered through implication and clues, rather than stated outright, like having a character limp rather than explaining to the audience that they were wounded in the war. This is show, don't tell, and it's harder than it seems.

But while Snyder lays out some of this advice, it's all in different sections even though it's dealing with the same fundamental problem, and I'm not sure that he really understands that. If he does understand it, then he's not making that clear for the reader.

My thesis is that to understand storytelling, you want to understand root issues and classes of solutions. I have not written a book on writing, nor do I think there's a market for that, nor do I think I'm qualified, but it's the kind of thing that I would strive to deliver. There are a lot of writing problems that are parallel to each other, and there are a lot of structural elements that are mirrors of each other, so why not try to put it all together that way?

But Snyder makes basically no attempt to put even very related problems together, it's just little bits of advice to gnaw at the most common problems, and ... maybe that's fine, but it felt lazy to me.

Chapter 8 was the final chapter, and was mostly about trying to sell screenplays. This was irrelevant to me, but kind of interesting, and also made me feel like Blake Snyder is a better marketer and salesman than a screenwriter, and also maybe just got lucky to be working at a time when scripts were getting huge bidding wars for no good reason. The efficient market hypothesis gets clowned on again, I guess.

I'll probably write up some overall thoughts, a short review: I think I am unsuited to liveblogging because I go long. But the even shorter version is that I think I picked up a few things that were interesting to think about, and while Blake Snyder is a hack, he's an entertaining writer.

[uroboros55]

so hey hi, i present to you the shortest cartetgigi fic, sb in carlos discord joked about caco waiting for the trio to finish kissing so they could take the pic with fire extinguisher and here we are now...

pls caco we are still waiting for the pic

Caco is going to kill his cousin.

Just straight up go to him and kill him. His uncle will understand why Caco did it, and so will his aunt. They know how dealing with Carlos Jr. is.

Caco loves his cousin. He and Carletes were brought up together, and they were always close to each other in a way only two boys surrounded by a sea of sisters can be. Carlos always supported Caco, and Caco did the same to his cousin, even when Carlos did not believe in himself as much as his family did.

Carletes was always like a younger brother to Caco. He was always the small thing close to Caco and his friends, who wanted to feel included. Caco still remembers how some of the boys made fun of how close he was to his cousin, how they tried to make fun of Carlos, or take his kindness and use it to their advantage. Caco made sure they were no longer close to his family. He has always been protective of Carlos, and it did not change even when they grew up and Carletes started to be his own person and made his place in Formula 1.

Caco still remembers when his uncle sat him down while Carletes was still a scrawny kid, fighting in go-karts, and told him how other kids made fun of him and used Carlos's kindness to push him off. His uncle, the El Matador in the family, asks his teenage nephew to look out for his younger cousin. Caco just puffed at that, already looking out for his brother. He never stopped doing that. He was there for him during the happy times, and the bad times, he hugged and picked him up after each time, he fought for him during Toro Rosso days, and in that Renault, he made sure that McLaren was ready for Carlos, and he made sure that Ferrari deal was good to go before Carlos signed the contract. He also picked his cousin up when they had to go from Ferrari to Williams, not losing the optimist and trying to make sure Carlos would get a place he could stay for longer.

But right now, he wants to kill Carlos. He is pretty sure he could do it without anyone noticing.

Despite the p3, Caco is pissed. At the race, the clownery the red team did, at Charles for acting like a crybaby, at the media, and at the fans for only talking about the drama. He has spent at least an hour talking with the social media team, trying to control the damage, he sat down with Silvia and decided what to do to let fans know that yes C2 is okay and still good. He had to listen to Fred talk with his French accent and act like he cares about the red team, cause Carlos never burns bridges, even though Caco had some ideas on how to destroy Ferrari before they go to Williams.

He did all that while Carlos hid in his driver’s room with his fucking boyfriends.

And not, the fact that he has a boyfriend is not a problem, neither is the fact that it’s not one but two. The problem is that Caco did all he had to do, and he wants his fricking photo with the fire extinguisher. And he cannot do that while Carlos and the trophy and half of their team are gone.

Caco did call the three of them a few times and left a bunch of angry messages in the group chat and in private chats. He learned his lesson a long time ago when he got into the room to see Carlos getting freaky with his partners. He loves his cousin but even he has his limits. And seeing Carlos like that is a big fat no from Caco.

He knows Teto from Carlos's karting days. One of the few of those scrawny kids who never took advantage of Carlos, instead making sure Carlos was okay and that he knew he had someone on the track who had his back. Carlos's calm is the opposite of Teto’s fire, the way he is always ready to protect his close one. The way Carlos is always diplomatic and tries to mediate contrasts with how unapologetic loud and passionate Teto is. Teto never forgets somebody who did something wrong to Carlos, and he might be one of the few people outside of the Sainz family that Caco trusts 100%. It was no surprise when Teto and Carlos finally got how much they wanted to be together and figured it out.

Carlos was smitten from the first time he saw Teto, but it took them almost 10 years to figure it out. Even longer to act on his feelings, to allow himself to have it while still being in Formula 1, in the spotlight, when one bad move could end his career.

And Caco was ready for the moment when somebody tried to make use of that fact about Carlos and Teto, about their love. He was ready to fight and bite and make sure his cousin and Teto would be alright even if they wouldn’t come out on their own terms.

And Caco likes Teto. He likes how Carlos is happy with him, and how he makes sure Carlos has his support system outside of the Sainz family. How he knows Carlos so well he just knows what to do even before Carlos asks for it.

So, when he sees the longing looks between his cousin and the new trainer he got when Rupert changed his teams, Caco is a little bit shocked. He knows that Teto and Carlos are going strong, that they are still very much in love if the amount of times Teto is around anything to go by. But the way Carlos looks at Pierluigi, the way the trainer's hands tend to rest on Carlos makes Caco feel uneasy.

So, he says something.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” he says to Carlos, while the two of them sit in the villa in Mallorca. Most of the Sainz family went to bed, and Caco and Carlos still sitting outside, the dogs asleep close to them.

“Hm?” asks Carlos, not really following what Caco is talking about. He looks a little bit like that kid that used to follow Caco around, with the old Senior shirt on, in swim trunks still on him, shoes long forgotten. If Caco thinks hard enough he can hear his mom and aunt Reyes screaming at Carlos to wear some flip-flops and stop bringing dirt into their house. Mallorca makes Carlos look softer like he is still a child, maybe a teenager, and not a 30-year-old man.

 “I get that Gigi is a good guy. A great one even. For fuck’s sake he is going with us to Williams. But he is no Teto, remember Carletes,” says Caco, taking a sip from his beer. It’s a little too warm for his taste, but he won’t complain now.

Carlos does not answer for a while. He plays with the label on his bottle, the tick he had ever since he started drinking. Caco is pretty sure he won’t reply when he finally hears his cousin's calm voice.

“It’s not like that with Gigi,” he starts, still not looking up from his bottle. “Me and Teto… we would never do anything to hurt each other. You know it. I love him. But I also love Gigi. And Gigi loves me back. And even before all of that happened, it was Teto who brought it up. He was the one who talked with both of us. And I was so afraid of all of it, that I would wake up one day and both of them would leave me or tell me that I’m disgusting that I cannot choose, and why can’t I be normal. I always thought that something was wrong with me you know this.”

Caco is speechless. He lets Carlos speak.

“But we talked. And they are both happy with our case. They do not think I'm disgusting or that I am some kind of freak. And they are so good to me, and I think I might love both of them and I need you Caco to be okay with it cause I'm not going to leave them or just pretend I don’t love them and I'm sorry,” and while Carlos speaks, he is breathing louder and louder, and Caco knows he is close to crying. His little cousin was always way too gentle for the world. Never learned how to bite. But he was also never afraid to be himself.

So Caco does the only thing he can do. He gets closer to Carlos, hugs him, and kisses his big ass forehead. Carlos hugs him back and cries quietly on his shoulder. It’s not a happy cry, more like a cleansing one, Caco can feel the tension leaving Carlos's shoulder while he sobs.

And when they go back to the real world, Carlos is acting more… freely. He lets himself blush and smile around both Gigi and Teto, he seems to smile more and spends more and more time on his bike and going out, instead of sitting at home, trying to forget that he will be at the back of the grid next year.

And Caco can see how both Gigi and Teto take care of Carlos. In how gentle Gigi is with him, and how Teto always makes sure Carlos is not too much in his head. How Gigi hugs him even more than ever, knowing how much Carlos depends on the physical touch. And how Teto makes Carlos laugh so much. How both of them are working like a well-oiled machine to make sure Carlos is okay.

Unfortunately, that little shit, who sometimes is called Caco’s cousin has gotten way too comfortable. Caco has lost count of how many times has he found Carlos with either of his partners in compromising positions, or even worse with both of them. Once he was let into Carlos's room by Teto while Gigi and Carlos were taking a shower. Caco still shudders when he remembers that.

He even posts on his social media that the long-awaited photo is a work in progress before calling Carlos for the 2194399494 times since he went with Gigi and Teto. He does not pick up, and Caco is getting ready to go and see whatever is going on in Carlos's room when finally, he sees Teto around the corner. Soon after he follows Gigi and Carlos.

For fuck’s sake. Carlos looks like got fucked all the way to Friday. His hair is disheveled, and his big lips look even bigger and redder like somebody spent a long time biting them. He also has a shirt that not only is on the left side but also does not look like Carlos's shirt at all. Caco is pretty sure it's Gigi’s, given how loose it's in the bicep. And that dopy look on his face, like he already forgot about the shit show that has been this race.

Gigi’s hair is also tousled, but at least he looks presentable. The same could be said about Teto’s whose hair looks as good as ever (Caco is a little bit salty about it. He mostly has gray hair by now, while Teto’s lion's mane is still as glorious as ever).

“Fucking finally, I have been calling for at least half an hour,” exclaims Caco, putting the phone in his pocket. “We need to make the photo and then finally go, vamos!”

When his cousin finally passes him, Caco can see the big hickeys no makeup or clothing will hide. His neck looks like he was attacked by wild animals.

Caco will kill his cousin.

[smshiptournament]

Spooky Month oc x canon tournament - Round 1, Matchup 8

SpoiledCandy (Kevin x Carmilla) by @mayisgoingnuts

Propaganda: As the new boyfriend of no one else other than the daughter of the owner of the CandyClub, Kevin has to deal with her bratty personality wanting or not. He is her prince, her knight, her big, strong man! Except, this is what she wants him to be. And Carmilla is just a spoiled, annoying girl who will never, ever shut up, and only cares for his looks! Except, she doesn't, she likes him in her own way. They either solve their problem in the good way, or the bad way, and sadly both of them are too stubborn to give in to the good one.

BoringActor (Ernie x Rick) by @cupcake-catastrophe11

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think that Ms. Bustier is overhated?

Not particularly. I don't have any strong feelings about her, but she's clearly a terrible teacher who is in way over her head. I totally understand why she sets some people off. If she was a real person that I actually had to deal with, then she'd probably set me off, too, because she so perfectly encapsulates toxic positivity. If you're not familiar with that term, then here's a quick definition:

Toxic positivity is the act of avoiding, suppressing, or rejecting negative emotions or experiences. This may take the form of denying your own emotions or someone else denying your emotions, insisting on positive thinking instead. Although setting aside difficult emotions is sometimes necessary temporarily, denying negative feelings long term is harmful because it can prevent people from processing their emotions and overcoming their distress.

Read that definition and then look at this scene from Zombiezou:

Marinette: But Miss Bustier, it's so not fair! It was Chloé, pulling another...Chloé! And...I'm the one who's getting in trouble?! Miss Bustier: Of course you're not in trouble, don't worry! As the class representative, I want you to set a good example for your classmates. Don't give into feelings of anger. Try to forgive Chloé instead. Marinette: I don't get it... Chloé is the meanest person I've ever known. Miss Bustier: Come on... There are much worse people in Paris right now than Chloé Bourgeois. I'm sure people like Chloé are capable of great things. The problem is, they only think of themselves. They don't understand the meaning of love, and we can't force them to change. But perhaps we can show them by setting a good example. That's why Marinettes are so important in today's world; because they have a lot of love to give. I'm counting on you. Marinette: Yes, Miss Bustier.

This is toxic positivity in action. Marinette is told to set aside her extremely valid feelings as if anger is a terrible thing, but it isn't. All emotions have their place and ignoring them can do real harm, a lesson that Miraculous really struggles with. It seems to see "negative" emotions as bad and they're really not. What matters is how we express and address our emotions, not that we experience them. If you want to see a family friendly piece of media do this topic right, then go watch Pixar's Inside Out.

There's also the fact that Chloé is never punished for her actions in this episode. She ruined a gift that probably took Marinette hours and yet Miss Bustier puts the onus to fix things on Marinette, blaming the victim and doing nothing to actually fix the situation. Canon mildly complicates this with Chloé's father's willingness to meddle, making punishing her apparently impossible, but Miss Bustier doesn't even acknowledge that here. The stated logic is that you need to be nice to your bully and that will hopefully magically fix things, which is a terrible lesson that I don't want any kid to learn! What kind of logic is that?

I'll admit that I'm a big fan of "an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind," but that doesn't mean that you should never acknowledge harm or fight back. It just means that you need to be measured in your responses and pick your battles wisely. If this episode was about that, then I'd be fine with it, but that's not the lesson here. There is no point where the wrong done to Marinette is even mildly acknowledged. Miss Bustier's initial reaction to seeing Marinette's ruined gift is:

Miss Bustier: Well, I think this present is wonderful. It'll be my new cosmetics bag! Then I'll be able to think of both of you every time I use it.

And we go straight from that to the toxic positivity.

Something is wrong with this woman. You shouldn't even take this approach with preschoolers! While I could see this being a good final solution to something like Chloé scribbling on Marinette's drawing, Chloé's behavior still needs to be addressed. She is still the one in the wrong here. The one whose behavior needs to change.

This is one of many cases where there are two paths to take with this character. The writers clearly want Miss Bustier to be a wonderful teacher, but they wrote a victim-blaming disaster who shouldn't be in charge of anyone. If you're ever adapting her, then it's up to you if you want to redesign her into her intended self or if you want to lean into the bad writing. I think both paths have merit because the writing is so bad that there is no way to make canon Caline work as a good teacher. She's too fundamentally flawed so you either acknowledge how awful she is or do a major overhaul where she's much less forgiving and actually acknowledges things like the Chloé problem.