#I’m so passionate about this character and I don’t want it to be another case of

[dimidarling]

The new Superman show is all well and good but I don’t want to see any of you watching it acting like it’s the first time Superman has ever been nice/kind/sweet/interesting/a person outside the suit. As if the DCAU Superman hasn’t been here for years and years, and the Legion of Superheroes cartoon Superman hasn’t been here for years and years and various comics Supermans haven’t been written to be the most compassionate people ever, and some live action Supermans being down to earth and kind. It’s cool if this show makes you enjoy Superman in a way you didn’t before! I def want more media to focus on him as the good person he is, not the muscle suit popularized in some circles. But know it is not the first media, and especially not the first cartoon, to show him this way. Also don’t woobify him I’m begging on my knees to treat him like the grown ass man he is orz

[vanessagillings]

I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

[strawberrystepmom]

sanemi x f!reader. isekai au, established relationship, mostly fluff and character study. | wc 1.3k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune

Gentle communication has never been Sanemi’s strong suit.

He’s moved through his life as wild and blusterous as the winds he wields to keep the world safe, a flurry of carelessly running off at the mouth and leaving destruction behind him if it suited him best. At least until he met you.

Brash is the kind word you’ve chosen to describe him or at least that’s what he overheard you discussing with Mitsuri shortly after he realized his feelings for you were mutual, after the two of you had engaged in relatively wordless physical passion more than once. He didn’t know what the word meant (frankly, he isn’t sure if she did either although she never mentioned it) and he asked you, pointedly, to explain yourself.

“What the fuck does brash mean?”

The look on your face, wide eyes and slightly downturned corners of your lips, caught him off guard even more so than you found yourself. He watched you through narrowed violet eyes while you considered the way to phrase the explanation, a little regretful about his naturally commanding and harsh tone though he could not, and cannot, change it about himself. For a period of time, you looked terrified of him every time you glanced at him and while he felt grateful that was no longer the case, old fears crept in when you opened your mouth to speak, eyes still wide.

“Are you upset with me?” You asked, glancing toward the ground for a moment and then back at his face - that scarred, beautiful face - concerned that your choice of words offended him.

“No.” He answered quickly, reaching out to rub his thumb along the soft skin of the inside of your wrist, something that became a habit after the two of you began sleeping together. His shoulders slumped forward, he inhaled deeply and lowered his voice. “I just want to know.”

Smiling at the glimpse of the man beneath the surface, you leaned in toward him to close the surrounding world off to just the two of you.

“It means that you aren’t afraid to speak your mind and to assert yourself. It’s not a bad thing, you just get to the point quicker than other people might.”

He could tell you were beating around the bush, a little trait of yours he noticed more and more over the time that passed, and his face fell into a scowl despite his thumb still pressing against your skin.

“So you’re saying I’m an asshole?”

You frowned back at him, shaking your head.

“No, I think you just forget about the subtleties of conversation. Facial expressions, tone of voice, language,” you raised your eyebrows at him, pursing your lips to punctuate the last point. “Little things matter, Sanemi. I can’t tell you why but they do.”

Tilting his head to the side, he lacked the grace to hide his confusion. You glanced up at him and trailed your free hand up his arm, reaching until you cupped his chin and cheek in your palm.

“Why? Why can’t people just say what they mean?” You giggled and patted his face, shaking your head. “I don’t have an answer for that but what I can promise you is that I’ll always figure out what you mean even if you say it a little roughly.”

He smiled down at you, slight enough that anyone else would mistake it for a grimace, but you knew better. Emotions have never come easy for Sanemi and you knew that long before getting involved with him bearing in mind that he didn’t speak to you for weeks except to bark orders or demand you cover yourself up in the revealing Slayer uniform you were given upon your appearance in his world.

Even back then, you’d come a long way with one another in a short time. You sighed and dropped your hand from his face, sparing him the embarrassment of being caught mid embrace with you lest someone approached.

“I never mean to be mean to you,” he admitted, eyes glued toward his hand still resting on your arm. “I don’t know how else to tell you what I’m trying to say. All this shit is just…different for me.”

Nodding, you reassured him with a half smile.

“I know and I always pick up on what you really mean anyway.”

The small tells have always said more than he thinks. Twitching fingers, especially the ones he has confided in you he has less feeling in, resting against your arm. Low chuckles in his throat, so brief you believe you imagined them. His lips roughly pressing against your hairline, your cheek, your throat in the darkness of your room.

───・・✦・・───

Those small signs have certainly come in handy over the time the two of you have spent together. The days of miscommunication aren’t long passed, they still linger in the back of your mind when his jaw is slackened and he looks like he may open his mouth to say anything and leave you to play damage control, but you have figured out the little tells.

The crease between his eyebrows deepens and he grips his teacup a little too tightly while kneeling in front of the table at his brothers’ home. You wordlessly sip from your own cup but glance over at Sanemi, raising your left eyebrow to give him the silent signal that you are checking on him.

Are you ready to go?

So many words contained in a simple gesture.

Please.

He nods once, indistinct enough that Genya and his wife who are lost in their own conversation do not look away from one another. Cup placed gently back on the table in front of him, he leans upward and folds his arms over his chest, allowing you to do what you do best. Talk.

“I think we’re about to head home.”

Genya and his wife rise and smile at the two of you, exchanging goodbyes and thanking you for visiting them and their ever growing family. Sanemi’s heart still occasionally pumps a few beats harder when he takes the time to consider how thoughtfully you approach him, patiently allowing him to clarify himself when most would just assume he’s impolite and leave it at that.

“Thank you,” he finally says when the two of you have exited out of the gate separating Genya’s home and the road, stepping down the path headed toward your own that is closer than it seems on a dusk summer evening.

“Of course.” You butt your shoulder against his playfully, fiddling with the inside of your sleeves. “I know you better than you think.”

Sanemi chuckles, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. He’s never been one for overt displays of affection but it’s just the two of you, the crickets, and the earliest appearing stars tonight. There’s no harm in kissing the crown of your head and nuzzling his face into it while your footsteps fall into sync.

“You do,” he agrees, kissing your head. “You’ve tried a hell of a lot harder at the very least.”

This makes you laugh, grinning up at him and wrapping your arms around his waist in return.

“Only because I like you.”

He looks down, brows raised, feigning that same angry look he used to wear before he learned to relax and roll with the punches - assisted by you, of course.

“You only like me?”

Giggling, you shrug, pressing your head into his chest so he can rest his chin on top of it.

“Okay, okay, I guess I love you or something, too.” He chuckles and you feel it rumble beneath your ear, cheeks warming his breath gently ruffles the hair on top of your head.

“That’s better. Say what you mean when you’re talkin’ to me.”

There’s no derision in his words. No anger or frustration, nothing to make you jump or wonder what you’ve done wrong. You glance up at him to find him looking down at you rather than the path ahead, smiling. He’ll save his “I love you” for later, in another way, something you’ve come to appreciate about him since the days when you barely knew each other and were trying to figure it out.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 2 - Bruises | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.6k

Trent slumped down next to Noah, running a hand over his hair, his thoughts all over the place. It had been hard enough leaving you upstairs, seeing you so vulnerable, so close. Noah nudged him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Mate, seriously—what is the deal with you two?” Noah asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’s putty in your hands, and you’re practically breathing down her neck. Thought you’d snap eventually but you just keep dragging it out.” Trent let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the couch. 

“I don’t even know, mate. I can’t keep this up. Every time I’m around her lately, it feels impossible to just… be her friend.” He shook his head. “But Jack would kill me, you know that.” Noah burst into laughter, shaking his head. 

“Trenty, it’s been years of this. You’re acting like this tension is new! This is, hands down, the longest and most intense case of foreplay I’ve ever seen. Even Jack’s gotta know by now.” Noah smirked. Trent rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty grin breaking through. 

“Yeah, but it’s different now. She’s… she’s not just Jack’s sister anymore. It’s like she’s looking at me the same way I look at her.”  He groaned and then he let out a shaky breath, feeling exposed for the first time. “And tonight—I feel like she’s slipping, no? Just hard to leave her room after all that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Noah leaned in, eyes glinting with amusement. “Mateeee.” Trent groaned once more for good measure. 

“Bro, you gotta sort this. You can’t go on like this forever.” He clapped Trent on the shoulder. Trent chuckled, a little embarrassed but unable to deny how much he wanted you. 

“I know. But I’m just trying to play it smart, you know? I don’t want to hurt her but Jack’s my boy.” Noah raised an eyebrow, laughing harder. 

“Play it smart? Just try not to trip over yourself sneaking back upstairs.” He teased. With one last laugh, Trent let himself sink into his thoughts of you, wondering how much longer he could hold himself back.

Another night of drinking to forget came. You knew it wasn’t the healthiest method, but it was maybe the most fun. The club was packed, pulsing with the beat of the music and the energy of people letting loose on a Saturday night. You had dragged Layla along with you to have a fun night out, a chance to unwind and forget about all the stress from the past week. You were in good spirits, laughing and dancing with Layla, letting the music take over. But everything shifted when you spotted him—your sort of ex, a footballer for Manchester United, Josh. If playing for that club wasn’t enough of a reason for you to hate him, he also was just an awful person.  He was standing by the bar, surrounded by his friends, looking as arrogant as ever. You tried to ignore him, but it was clear he had seen you too. A smirk tugged at his lips as he pushed through the crowd, heading straight for you.

“YN!” he called out over the music, a mocking tone in his voice. “Long time no see.” You forced a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene but you knew this was being done to be rude.

 “Hey,” you replied shortly, hoping he’d get the hint and move on. But he didn’t.

“What’s the matter? Not happy to see me?” he jeered, leaning in closer than necessary. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see the malice in his eyes.

“I’m just here to have a good time with Layla,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. “I’d rather not—” But he cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. You were always such a good girl, Y/N. Too good for the likes of me, right? Or maybe you’re just playing hard to get?” He sang in an obnoxious tone. You’d ‘split’ because you didn’t like each other enough. It was sex and that was about it. Josh particularly didn’t like that no matter what, you’d never look at him the way you looked at Trent and so he blamed the split on you. Despite him ending it, it was your wrong doing apparently.  

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, yeah? Fuck off.” Layla stepped in, sensing the tension. He sneered at Layla before turning his attention back to you. 

“What’s the matter, YN? Still pining after Alexander-Arnold? Aye just get it through that pretty little head, he’s never going to want you.” The words stung, sharper than you expected. You rolled your eyes and he didn’t take kindly to that. Even though you didn’t care for him anymore, his cruelness cut deep. Tears welled up in your eyes despite yourself.  Josh had never been the kind to hold back, not even in public. You had seen glimpses of his temper before, but tonight, it felt different—meaner, more deliberate. His words were mocking as his fingers gripped your arm with a force that made your skin sting, and as he leaned in closer, his words grew more venomous.  "What, are you going to cry now?" he spat, tightening his hold on you. His grip was firm, biting into your flesh with enough pressure to bruise. You winced, trying to twist free, but he only tightened his grip, his nails digging into your skin. He was holding you close to him, he was angry in a possessive way. You could feel the bruise forming under his touch, a dark mark that would remind you of this night long after it was over. You hated how he could make you feel so small, how he could strip away every ounce of confidence with just a few words and a harsh grip.

“Please just stop,” you snapped, your voice breaking. You tried to yank your arm away again, but he only pulled you closer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. He pulled you away from everyone so it was just the two of you. You felt a wave of shame, not just for the scene he was causing but for yourself—for letting him do this to you, for putting up with it, for not having the strength to push him away once and for all. Layla didn’t know what to do. So often you had said it was fine with him but right now it felt anything but.  You didn’t know why you even put up with him, why you had let him into your life at all. He had always been like this—aggressive, dominating, possessive,always needing to control every situation, even when you were out in public. It was as if he thrived on belittling you, on reminding you of every perceived flaw, every mistake you’d made.  He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 

“You’ll be nothing without me, know that?” he hissed, his grip tightening painfully. You flinched, the pain radiating up your arm. “You’ll always be nothing.” The tears blurred your vision, and you hated yourself for letting him see you cry. You hated how he still had this power over you, how he could reduce you to this—a sobbing, broken mess in the middle of a crowded club. You hated how he could strip you of your dignity with just a few cruel words and a tight grip on your arm. Somewhere in the haze of your thoughts, you found the strength to pull away. You jerked your arm back with a sudden burst of energy, managing to break free from his grasp. You stumbled back, cradling your bruised arm against your chest, the sting of the fresh bruise radiating through your skin. You looked up at him, your vision blurry with tears, your chest heaving with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration.

“I’m done. We’re done” you choked out, the words barely more than a whisper. “I get it. Just let it go, okay?” You whimpered. He just laughed, a dark, hollow sound that sent a chill down your spine. 

“You’ll be back, babe” he called after you as you tried to leave, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You always come back.”  You hated that you had gone back to him before, that you had let yourself get tangled up in his web of anger and possessiveness. The sex had been good—at least, that's what you told yourself. But he had cheated on you more times than you could count, though you were never really sure if it counted as cheating. Your relationship had always been undefined, a messy entanglement of emotions and misunderstandings. He was hypocritical, a storm ready to explode any time he saw you so much as smile at another man. And yet, there you were, always caught in the crossfire of his jealousy and rage. It didn’t matter what he did, his whole goal was to just have complete control over you and Trent threw a wrench in that. He especially hated Trent. It wasn't just because they played for rival clubs, though that was part of it. It was deeper than football. He saw the way your eyes lingered on Trent, the way your face softened when you spoke his name. He knew there was something there, a connection that went beyond friendly banter or casual attraction. Trent was everything he was not—calm, kind, successful in a way that made others admire rather than fear him. And you—God, he could see it—your feelings for Trent were written all over your face, in the way you laughed at his jokes, in the way you always seemed to find yourself at his side. He resented Trent for being everything he wasn’t and for being the object of your affections. You ootd to keep Josh’s behavior hidden from your brother, somehow managing to mask how fucked up it all was. Jack didn't know how deep your ex’s temper ran or how controlling he could be. But if he knew.. If Jack knew or even his friends knew but probably especially Trent knew… all hell would break loose.  So you’d learned how to swallow back the stories, pretending that everything was fine. 

“Can you just leave me alone,” you managed to say, your voice breaking. 

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” He leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper. “Does your brother know you slut yourself out for his best friend? What’s your dad think of that... Being a whore for the boys your brother trusts most… and your mum.. Oh well.. You wouldn’t know what she thinks of her slutty little daughter.” That was the last straw. You hated that you even trusted him enough that he had that bit of information about your life. You felt the tears spill over, and you turned and bolted, pushing your way through the crowd. You needed to get away, to breathe, to clear your head. Your heart was pounding, and your vision blurred with tears. You stumbled trying to get to the back hallway of the club, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Layla had seen enough. 

“Fuck you!” Layla screamed rushing over but when she turned to try to follow after you, you were lost in the crowds. Unbeknownst to you, Trent had been at the club too, celebrating with a few of his teammates. He had seen you running, and had noticed the distress on your face. Without a second thought, he followed you, his concern outweighing any questions about why you were there or what had happened. The flashing lights of the club blurred around you, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to spin faster with each passing second. The pounding bass reverberated through your chest, matching the erratic beat of your heart. You felt dizzy, your thoughts swirling like the flickering neon signs above. The laughter and shouts of the crowd melted into a distant, muddled hum as your vision began to swim. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot and unchecked, as you stumbled through the throngs of people. The room felt like it was closing in on you, walls shrinking as the faces around you became distorted, like a nightmare you couldn’t escape. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one catching in your throat as you fought the rising tide of panic.

You could barely think straight, your mind a haze of confusion and pain. Everything felt wrong—your body, the people around you, the pounding music that seemed to pulse through your veins. You wanted to escape, to find a place where you could breathe again, but everywhere you turned, there were people, faces, eyes. It was too much, all of it pressing down on you, squeezing your chest until you thought you might break. Your legs felt heavy, your steps unsteady as if the ground were shifting beneath your feet. You pushed through the crowd, desperate for air, for space, for anything but this suffocating chaos. Your tears blurred your vision, and you wiped at her eyes, her hand trembling. Then, through the haze, you felt it—strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. At first, you panicked, thinking it was someone else, another stranger trying to touch you, but then you caught a familiar scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely comforting.

Trent.

Your body sagged with relief, your knees nearly buckling beneath you as you collapsed against his chest. His arms were solid and warm, encircling you like a protective barrier against the chaos of the club. You felt his hand on the back of your head, gently cradling you as he whispered soothing words you could barely hear over the music. Then for the first time, Trent saw a bruise forming on your arm. His face was a mask of concern, his eyes darkening with anger as he took in the sight of you, your arm marked with the telltale signs of aggression. 

"Y/N," he whispered, stepping back before reaching out to gently lift your arm, his touch featherlight but steady. He turned it over, revealing the bruises that had already started to bloom in shades of purple and blue. His jaw clenched, and his grip tightened just enough for you to feel his rage simmering beneath the surface. "Who did this to you?" You tried to pull away, tried to hide the evidence of your shame and pain, but Trent wouldn't let go. It was so obvious it came from someone grubbing you too tight, being too rough in a way no one wanted. His hand held yours firmly, his thumb brushing against your skin as if he could erase the marks with a touch. 

"Please," you muttered, your voice breaking, "stop." you weakly begged.

"Y/N…" he insisted, his voice low and steady, but with an edge that made it clear he wasn't going to let this go. "Who…" He snapped demandingly. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Trent's face hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took in you attempting to tell him what just happened but he couldn’t focus on anything but how sad you looked, how broken. He pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms as if to shield you from the world, from the pain, from everything that had ever hurt you. In that moment, you felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever. His arms were your refuge, his strength your solace. Trent's blood boiled with a fury he rarely felt, his hands shaking with the need to do something—anything—to make Josh, who he knew it had to have been, pay for what he'd done. But then he saw your tear-streaked face, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back sobs, and all that rage took a back seat. His anger didn't matter right now; you mattered. Your body shuddered with each sob, and Trent felt a pang of helplessness in his chest. He wanted to tell you everything would be alright, that he'd take care of everything. He wanted to promise that no one would ever hurt you again. But he knew that words wouldn’t be enough, not now. So, he just held you tighter, letting you cry into his shirt, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey, you're okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the noise, anchoring you to the present. You buried your face against his chest, your hands clutching at his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping you from drowning. The tears kept coming, but they were different now—less frantic, more a release of all the tension you had been holding onto. Trent’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of the abyss you had been teetering on. The world around you seemed to fade, the thumping bass and flashing lights dimming in comparison to the steady, comforting rhythm of Trent’s heartbeat against your ear. You could feel his warmth seeping into you, calming the storm that raged inside you. In his arms, you felt a safety you hadn’t known she needed—a reassurance that, despite everything, you weren’t alone.

“Just breathe for me,” Trent whispered, his voice soft and close to your ear. “I’m here. You’re safe.” You tried to do as he said, taking a shaky breath that caught in your throat. But with him holding you, the air seemed easier to draw in, the panic slowly ebbing away. The tears continued to fall, but now they were softer, quieter, as if his presence was slowly soothing the hurt you felt. For a moment, there was only you—no noise, no crowd, no chaos. Just the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his embrace. Trent held you tightly, his grip firm yet gentle, his touch grounding you in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. You stood in there struggling to catch your breath as Trent's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of spilled drinks and cigarette smoke, grounding you in a way that felt comforting and electric all at once. He tightened his hold, his chin resting on the top of your head, and his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. But even as he tried to comfort you, a battle still raged inside him. Part of him wanted to go find Josh right then and there, to make him pay for every single bruise on your skin, every tear he'd caused. The other part of him—the rational part—knew he needed to stay with you, to keep you safe and calm. And then there was the question he couldn't push away: Should he tell Jack?  Jack was his best friend, but Jack was also your brother. He deserved to know that his sister had been hurt, but Trent also knew how fiercely protective Jack was of you. If he told Jack, there’d be no holding him back, and things could spiral out of control. Plus, he wasn't sure if you'd want Jack to know—if you'd want your brother to see you in this vulnerable state.

"I got you," he whispered as his thoughts spiraled, his voice filled with a tenderness you hadn't felt in a long time. "I got you, okay?" You felt something break in that moment-a wall you'd kept up around yourself for so long. And when his lips brushed the top of your head in a soft kiss, something stirred inside you, a longing that had been quietly simmering for years. It felt like an opening. Your heart raced as you pulled back slightly, your gaze finding his, and in the dim light, his eyes softened, a silent understanding passing between you. You hesitated, but then, almost instinctively, you tilted up, pressing your lips to his. It was a tentative kiss at first, a question in every touch of your lips against his. Trent tensed, caught off guard, but he didn't pull away. He wanted this so instead, his hands found your waist, his fingers digging in ever so slightly as he kissed you back, the warmth of his mouth melting away the hurt that had clung to you since your ex's cruel words. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you tangled together, like a fuse that had finally been lit. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier, years of unspoken attraction finally bubbling over. His hands roamed, his grip on you tightening as he leaned into you, pushing you up against the cool brick wall behind you. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, felt like it was meant to be, like you'd waited your whole life for this moment. God, he wanted this… but not like this. This was wrong. So then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back, his breathing heavy as he looked at you with wide eyes, his expression torn between disbelief and something deeper. 

"What...Y/N… what are we doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his fingers still lingering on your skin. The conflict in his eyes was clear, and it sent a pang through your chest. But you didn't care about the doubts racing through his mind. You leaned in again, refusing to let go of this feeling. To remind him how very right this wrong was. The kiss was softer this time, gentler, but just as consuming. You poured everything into it—all the years of longing, the quiet, unspoken feelings, the ache you'd felt every time you saw him with someone else. And for a moment, he gave in, his lips moving against yours like he'd been holding back for years. You could feel him wanting more but then, with a deep sigh, he pulled away once more, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady his breathing. "Y/ N... we can't. I can't," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry. I just..." He muttered. The rejection cut deeper than you expected, the pain raw and immediate. Your eyes burned with fresh tears as you took a shaLay step back, your heart pounding with a mix of heartbreak and anger.  

"Fuck you!" you cried, your voice trembling. It felt like the walls you'd let down were crashing back up, each one harder than before. You turned on your heel, ready to escape before he saw you fall apart completely. But he reached out, his hand grazing your arm, as if he couldn't quite let you go. You recoiled, stepping back, your expression a mix of pain and anger. 

"Wait," he pleaded softly, but you yanked your arm from his grasp, your heart shattering as you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him behind with the lingering taste of regret on his lips. Trent’s heart ached seeing the tears well up in your eyes again.  You turned and ran, pushing your way back through the crowd, your vision blurred with tears. You didn’t care where you were going; you just needed to get away from him, from the humiliation and the heartbreak. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you fled, but you didn’t look back. Trent watched you go, his heart sinking into his stomach. He wanted to run after you, to explain, to somehow make it right, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. He knew you needed space, needed time to cool off. But as he stood there, the guilt and worry gnawed at him. He had never wanted to hurt you, but in trying to protect you, he feared he had done exactly that. The sounds of the club grew louder around him, but Trent felt miles away, lost in his thoughts. He knew he’d have to find a way to make this right with you, to explain himself, and to make sure you knew how much he cared. But for now, all he could do was watch you disappear into the crowd, your absence leaving a painful ache in his chest. Trent leaned back against the wall, trying to process what had just happened. Some of his teammates who he was out with came over. They were giving him confused looks, clearly curious about the scene they had just witnessed. From their perspective, he had chased after to a a teary-eyed girl, who then kissed him like her life depended on it, and then, just as quickly, pulled away with a broken ‘fuck you.’ They had questions.

“Mate, what was that about?” one of them asked, laughing awkwardly, unsure how to react to the tension still lingering in the air.

“Bro, was that…” Another piled on cautiously, recognizing you. Trent ran his hands over his face, trying to shake off the flood of emotions. He glanced toward the crowd, desperately scanning for you, but you’d disappeared into the sea of people. His chest tightened, and he let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of what just happened settle in. He couldn’t explain it, not to them, not in a way that made any sense. 

“Yeah, was Jack’s sister.” He muttered after he took a deep breath, eyes still flicking toward the direction you’d gone. The second those words left his mouth, Trent knew something had shifted inside him. It wasn’t a lie, not really, but it felt bigger than that. It felt like a realization he’d been avoiding for too long. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You were his everything. And the truth of that hit him like a freight train, leaving him standing there, breathless and rattled.

“Fuck, mate. That’s complicated.”  One of his teammates whistled, finally connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” Trent breathed out, his mind racing. It was beyond complicated. Jack was his best friend, and you… you were the girl who had been slowly slipping from childhood crush to something deeper, something dangerous. He shook his head, his thoughts swirling. The way you’d kissed him tonight, the hurt in your eyes, the fire in the way you’d pulled away—it was like everything had boiled over, and Trent had been too slow to catch up. He’d rejected you, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted you too much. He couldn’t handle the idea of hurting Jack, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. But now, standing there with his teammates still glancing at him for answers, he realized that line had already been blurred for a while. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You hadn’t been for a long time. And now, Trent wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending otherwise. As the music pulsed around him, Trent felt a shift. He needed to find you, needed to figure out what came next, no matter how messy it got. Because, after tonight, he knew he couldn’t go back to seeing you as just Jack’s little sister. You were more than that. You always had been. 

After leaving Trent behind, you had stumbled back into the chaos of the dance floor, your heart pounding and your emotions a tangled mess. You had felt rejected and humiliated, and in a haze of frustration and alcohol, you made a poor decision. You spotted a man at the bar—a tall, handsome stranger who had been eyeing you all night. Without much thought, you walked up to him and struck up a conversation. His flirty smile and eager compliments were a welcome distraction from the pain you felt. When he suggested you leave together far sooner than appropriate, you didn’t hesitate. You just wanted to forget, to numb the ache in your chest caused by Trent's rejection. You told Layla you felt sick and had needed to leave. She knew it was a farce but she also knew she couldn't stop you. She assumed it was just Josh being an ass she had no idea you had just kissed Trent. She called and called to find you; to leave with you but you just texted saying it was all fine. But as the night unfolded and you found yourself in the stranger's bed, you quickly realized how hollow it all felt. The sex was awkward and unfulfilling, a stark contrast to the passion you had imagined when you thought of Trent. You found yourself comparing the man to Trent in every way—his touch, his movements, the way he spoke to you. Every comparison only made you miss Trent more. You knew deep down that Trent would have been different—gentler or maybe rougher but definitely more attentive, more real. Tears stung your eyes as you lay there, regretting your impulsive decision. This was a low. By the time morning came, you left the stranger's place without a word, feeling emptier than before. You hadn’t heard from Trent since that night. Part of you was relieved, thinking it was better this way—less complicated. But another part of you ached for him, for his presence, for the safety you felt in his arms. 

You’d stumbled in through your front door just after dawn, your steps heavy and uneven, your head pounding with every movement. Jack was already up, a coffee mug in hand, leaning against the kitchen counter with a lazy grin. 

“Rough night?” he joked, his eyes barely glancing up from his phone. “You look like you’ve been through hell.” You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a soft hum, barely audible over the sound of the coffee machine. Your shoulders slumped as you shuffled over to the fridge, your body moving on autopilot. The sting of tears was still fresh in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall again, not in front of him. Jack finally looked up from his phone, his grin fading when he saw the look on your face. He straightened up, setting his mug down on the counter, his brow furrowing with concern. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more serious.  You just hummed again, the sound weak and empty. You didn’t have the energy to explain, didn’t want to get into it with him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you closely, but you kept your gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his gaze. Jack took a step closer, his concern growing. “You sure?” he pressed gently, sensing something was wrong. “You don’t look so good.” You just shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, your chest aching with the effort of holding everything in. You needed to get out of there, away from his questions and his worry. You couldn’t deal with it, not now.

“I’m fine,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a lie, and you knew he could see right through it, but you didn’t care. You needed to be alone, to let yourself fall apart without an audience. Jack watched you, his expression a mix of confusion and concern, but he didn’t push any further. He just nodded, letting you go. He knew you knew he was there if you needed him. 

 “Alright,” he said quietly, stepping back. “But if you need anything...” You nodded, not waiting for him to finish. You turned and headed upstairs, your steps heavy and slow. As soon as you reached your room, you closed the door behind you and sank onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.  The weight of the night before crashed down on you, and you couldn’t hold back the sobs that tore through your chest. The shame, the regret, the confusion—it was all too much. You’d thought you could handle it, thought you could keep it together, but now, alone in your room, it all felt too heavy to bear. You cried until there were no tears left, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. And when you finally stopped, when the tears finally ran dry, you were left with nothing but the hollow ache in your chest and the haunting memory of Trent’s rejection.

You were absolutely mortified. You had kissed Trent. How could you have done something so reckless? You laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling on Layla’s bed at her place, your mind racing in sheer panic. Every nerve in your body felt on edge, replaying that moment over and over. What was worse was that it never happened before, not even close, but something had come over you—like instinct taking over reason—and now you regretted it. Layla shifted beside you, sensing your turmoil. 

“Come on, it won’t that bad,” she said in an attempt to soften the blow. You groaned, rolling onto your side to face her. 

“No, Lays. I can never, ever see him again.” The words came out in a rush, your voice cracking under the weight of your embarrassment. She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. 

“That’s not true.” She told you. You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, your breath shaking. 

“It is! I crossed the line. And he… rejected me.” The last part was barely a whisper, like speaking it aloud made the sting of it even worse. You felt your face grow hot, the emotions swelling until they spilled over. The rejection was unbearable, and before you knew it, tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” you said, your voice wavering between a sob and a chuckle. Layla immediately wrapped you in her arms, pulling you close. 

“No, it’s not just tiredness,” she murmured into your hair, holding you tightly. “This sucks. The boy you like just said no. That’s a lot to handle, but we move.” You stayed in her embrace, taking in her warmth, but her words only made your heart ache more.

“I’m not even sure if I just like him,” you admitted, voice small and hollow as you pulled away slightly to look at her. Layla’s face twisted in confusion. 

“What?” she asked, blinking, and then a knowing look crossed her face as she softened. “Oh no. Babe…” You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears. 

“I mean, I do… but it’s more complicated than that. It’s not just like.” The weight of the word hung in the air between you both, unspoken but understood.

“You love him,” Layla said quietly with a frown she couldn’t control, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But maybe right now, the feeling of love is for your friend.” She paused, her eyes full of sympathy. “You don’t need to hurt yourself imagining anything more, okay? Not right now.” You bit your lip and nodded, the tears still threatening to spill over. You were exhausted, heartbroken, confused.  You knew you loved Trent as Jack's best friend, as a friend of your own but you had never had an intimate relationship to say you loved him any deeper than that. The thought of those feelings right now though were making you sick.

“But what if I can’t face him? What if it’s too awkward?” Layla shook her head and gave you a reassuring squeeze. 

“You’ll bounce back. Trent’s nice. He’s not going to make fun of you for this or make it weird. You two have been friends for too long for that.” But deep down, you couldn’t shake the sting of rejection. Maybe Layla was right—Trent wouldn’t make fun of you, but things weren’t the same anymore. Not after this.

When Jack invited Trent along with all the other boys over for a movie night a few days later, Trent was hesitant. He knew you might be home, and he wasn’t sure how you’d feel seeing him. But Jack was his best friend, and Trent figured maybe it was time to face the music. As Trent walked up to Jack’s front door, his nerves were on edge. He took a deep breath and knocked, his mind racing with what he might say if you were there. The door swung open, and Jack greeted him with a grin, pulling him into a quick hug.

“All good, mate?” Jack said, stepping aside to let Trent in. But Trent only hummed. He managed a smile, following Jack inside. He glanced around the living room, half-expecting to see you curled up on the couch. But the room was empty. “Y/N’s out,” Jack said casually, noticing Trent’s quick survey of the room. “I think she’s been a bit off lately. Haven’t seen much of her.” Trent nodded, trying to hide his relief that you weren’t home but sadness Jack noticed things were off.. 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her either,” he replied, his voice steady despite the churn in his stomach. Jack grabbed a bottle of water and handed one to Trent.

“She seemed pretty fucked up when she came back from a night out but didn’t tell me much, though.” Trent took a long sip of his water, not sure how to respond.  Jack and Trent were sitting in silence on their phones only best friends could sit in whilst waiting in the kitchen for the other boys to show up. Trent kept glancing toward the hallway, waiting for the moment you would come home. He wanted to see you, to talk to you, to somehow make things right. But as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of you, a sense of unease settled in his chest. The sound of a key turning in the front door caught Trent’s attention. He tensed, his heart quickening as he heard the door open and close. A few seconds later, you appeared strutting through the house, your face mildly flushed from the summer heat outside. You froze when you saw Trent sitting there, your expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice tight.

“Hey,” Trent replied, his eyes locked on you.  Jack, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Y/N. Weird vibe but erm.. Lads are watching Shawshank tonight. Want to join?” He asked, trying to lessen whatever awkwardness just flooded the room. You shook your head, avoiding Trent’s gaze. 

“No, thanks. I’m just going to head to my room.” Jack looked between the two of you, frowning slightly. 

“You sure? You haven’t been out here much lately.” He cooed gently. 

“I’m sure,” you smiled sympathetically at your older brother. You appreciated him caring but this was far from something he could help with. You turned and disappeared down the hallway without another word. Trent watched you go, the weight of your unfinished business hanging heavy in the air. He knew he needed to talk to you, to explain himself, but he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen. For now, all he could do was sit and wait, hoping for a chance to make things right.

You had spent the last few days trying to keep yourself busy, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t get Trent out of your mind. Trent, on the other hand, was torn between worry and respect for your space. He had tried to find you that night at the club, but it was like you had vanished into thin air. He didn’t want to push you, especially after how things had ended between you. Still, the thought of your hurt and alone gnawed at him. Trent thought about that kiss everyday and how much withstraint he was having to practice. He wanted to rip your clothes off, he had to stop his hands' magnetic pull to grab your ass. It was a typical movie night—Jack had all the boys over for another film. They’d yell through the whole thing and gossip in a way they’d claim only girls did. You knew the drill by now, but tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen Trent since that moment, the kiss that had turned everything upside down. You tried to ignore how awkward things were between you and trent but you were dying of thirst and you weren’t sure if dying of embarrassment of dehydration would be worse, You settled on dehydration so you moved quickly through the house, attempting to avoid where all the boys were, but Trent wasn’t going to let it go. He heard you try to sneak into the kitchen.

“Y/N,” he called out quietly, coming into the room behind you and taking a few steps toward you. You froze, your back to him, the tension thick in the air. You could hear Jack in the cinema complaining about something, completely oblivious you’d hoped. You weren’t ready for this, not now, not when your emotions were so raw.

“Please, I don’t want to talk to you,” you said firmly, your voice low, trying to keep the emotion out of it.

“Y/N, come on… just give me a minute,” he persisted, his voice filled with a quiet plea.You whipped around, eyes already welling up. 

“Trent, I really don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped, trying to hold your composure. “Frankly, I’m having a hard time even just seeing you right now, so please,” you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. You could feel your chest tightening, the tears threatening to spill. His face softened, but he didn’t move.

“I just want to talk. Please,” he said, sounding desperate now, like he was grasping at straws. But you couldn’t do this. Not here. Not with Jack just a few rooms away. You shook your head, blinking back tears, but one escaped anyway. 

“I don’t want to talk,” you choked out, your voice shaLay, as the tears began to build along your lash line. Trent stood there, helpless. His hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do, caught between wanting to comfort you and knowing that he couldn’t—not here, not now. You could see the frustration and guilt etched on his face, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. But you just shook your head again and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, stuck in the mess that neither of you had any idea how to clean up. And the worst part was, Jack was still there—completely unaware of the storm brewing between you two, his heart left open to wounded arguably as much as yours if you couldn’t sort this.

Trent thought about that drunk, tearful kiss at the club every single day. It replayed in his mind over and over, the taste of it, the way your lips had trembled against his, the way your hands had gripped onto him like he was the only thing anchoring you. He hadn't even expected it—had been caught off guard by how much he wanted it too. But then, the reality had hit him hard. The restraint he had to practice afterward felt like torture. It felt like trying to fight a g force the way his hands moved on your body. He wanted to rip your clothes off that night, to give in to the magnetic pull that constantly drew him to you. But he couldn't. Not like that. Not when you were drunk and emotional. Not when it could ruin everything. Now, the moment haunted him, and he was stuck in the limbo of not knowing what to do next. What if you regretted it? What if that kiss had meant something completely different to you than it did to him? And what scared him the most-what kept him up at night-was the realization that he didn't just want the kiss. He wanted more than that. He wanted you in a way that wasn't just about desire or physical attraction. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, who you leaned on, who you could trust with all the messy bits of life. But what if he'd already blown his chance? What if that kiss had been the beginning of the end rather than the start of something more? 

This tension carried on for days. Neither you or Trent making any further attempts at sorting it. Trent sat at a restaurant with Jack and Noah one night, completely lost in his own thoughts. His fork hovered above his plate, food untouched, as he stared blankly at the table. Jack, noticing how quiet he’d been, shot Noah a look. They’d been trying to get him to open up all night, but nothing was working.

“Mate, seriously, what’s going on?” Jack finally asked, setting down his drink. “You’ve barely said two words.”

“Yeah, you’ve been in your own head all night. Go on.” Noah chimed in. Trent talked nonstop all the time so this was very out of character and it’d been going on for over a week. Trent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t sure if this was something he should even bring up, especially not with Jack sitting right there. But the weight of what happened between him and you had been pressing down on him for days, and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. He ran a hand over his hair, debating how to word it without setting off alarm bells.

“Have you ever…” he began slowly, his voice low, “turned down a girl and then immediately regretted it?” He sheepishly asked his eyes, flicking to both boys trying to gauge their responses. 

“Nah, mate. If I turn her down, it’s for a reason.” Noah, always the confident one, scoffed.

“Yeah, once or twice. Why?” But Jack, ever the romantic, leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful nod. Trent’s eyes flickered between them, his stomach churning as he chose his next words carefully. He had to be vague, had to make sure Jack wouldn’t catch on.

“There’s this girl…” he started. He hesitated, feeling the weight of his own words. “She kissed me, but she was drunk, so I pushed her away. Now she’s pissed, and she won’t talk to me.” Trent hesitantly explained. Trent wasn’t normally shy talking about women so this whole thing was very confusing for his friends.

“So why did you turn her down if you’re this worked up about it?” Noah’s brow furrowed.

“Because she was drunk!” Trent said, frustration lacing his voice. He looked down at the table, unable to meet their eyes. “I didn’t want it to be like that.” Jack shrugged, clearly puzzled. 

“That’s more than valid, mate. If she was drunk, you did the right thing. Why wouldn’t she understand that?” Trent groaned inwardly, knowing he couldn’t explain the real reason behind his frustration without giving too much away. The truth was, he didn’t want just a drunken kiss. He wanted more than that—something real, something that wasn’t just swept under the rug as a mistake.

“It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice trailing off. Noah, always the one to push for action, smirked.

 “Next time you see her, just go for it. Easy.” He looked at Trent like he had solved his issue no problem. Trent couldn’t help but laugh at the simplicity of Noah’s solution. If only it were that easy. He wasn’t just dealing with any girl—this was you, Jack’s sister. It wasn’t something he could just ‘go for’ without thinking about the consequences. Jack, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward with a more serious expression. 

“Mate, just talk to her. Tell her you actually care about her and that you want it to be something she remembers, not something that happened when she was drunk. Simple as.” Trent’s heart sank. Jack had unknowingly hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what he wanted to say to you, but how could he? How could he tell you that he cared about you—really cared about you—when Jack was right there, completely unaware of the storm brewing between the two of you? He tried to keep his expression neutral as Jack gave advice, but guilt gnawed at him. He was about to take his best mate’s advice and use it to get closer to his little sister. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and it made his stomach twist. But he couldn’t keep running from the situation. He had to talk to you, had to tell you how he felt before it drove him insane. Noah, oblivious to the deeper layers of the situation, laughed and gave Trent a light punch on the arm. 

“Yeah, man. What’s the worst that could happen? You talk, she listens, and you two figure it out, I imagine she’s leng.. Get her in bed. Done.” Noah quipped and Trent’s guilt worsened. He forced a chuckle, but his mind was already elsewhere. What was the worst that could happen? Jack could find out. He could lose his best friend. You could reject him, or worse—tell him that kiss was nothing more than a drunken mistake. The thought made his chest tighten. But Noah’s lightheartedness didn’t calm Trent’s nerves. Jack’s advice, however, echoed in his mind—talk to her, tell her how you feel. Trent knew it was the right move, but the fear of rejection, of ruining everything, loomed over him like a dark cloud. As they finished dinner and paid the bill, Trent’s thoughts were already on what was coming next. He was heading to your house after this. You’d be there. Jack would be there. And somehow, amidst it all, he had to figure out how to have that conversation. As they walked to the cars, Jack patted Trent on the back. 

“You’ll be alright, mate. Just don’t overthink it.” Trent forced a smile, but his mind was racing. He couldn’t shake the anxiety bubbling inside him. Jack’s words rang in his ears, and he knew he had to take the advice, but how? As Trent drove to your house, the weight of everything pressed down on him. He was about to walk into a house where everything could change in a matter of minutes. He wanted more than a kiss, more than just a fleeting moment—but what if you didn’t? What if that kiss had meant nothing to you? You only said you didn’t want to see him… were you just mad. He couldn’t tell.�� Pulling into the driveway, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He had to talk to you. He had to try, even if it scared him to death

Trent awkwardly made his way into the living room, his heart pounding as he spotted you already seated on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. You looked adorable and it made him sadder. You were curled up in the corner, your eyes glued to the TV, but he could tell from the stiffness in your posture that you were aware of his presence. The soft glow from the screen cast a flickering light over your face, highlighting the tension in your jaw and the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should sit down. But with a deep breath, he took a seat next to you, careful to leave a respectful gap between you. The silence between you was thick, almost tangible, and he could feel the awkwardness settling over you like a heavy blanket. 

“Hey,” he said softly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. You barely acknowledged him, giving a short nod without looking away from the TV. 

“Hey,” you replied curtly, your tone clipped. Trent’s heart sank a little at your cold reception. Never in his life had you greeted him like this and it was starting to eat at him but he couldn’t blame you. He knew he’d hurt you that night, and he was ready to face the consequences. He could imagine what he would feel like if you said no to him. Still, the distance between you now felt like a chasm, one he was desperate to cross. He kept his eyes on the screen, pretending to be engrossed in the show, but he was acutely aware of every small movement you made—the way you shifted slightly, the soft sound of your breath, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. He wanted to say something, anything to bridge the gap, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. Minutes passed in silence, the tension between you unyielding. Trent’s mind raced with what he could say or do to make things right. He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to overstep, but he also didn’t want to let this moment slip away without trying. Finally, gathering his courage, he reached out and gently placed his hand on your leg, just above your knee. It was a tentative touch, his fingers light and hesitant, but it was enough to make you stiffen slightly under his hand. You glanced down at his hand, then up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t mean to upset you that night.” He cooed gently. Your gaze remained on his hand for a moment longer before you sighed, your shoulders relaxing a fraction. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For… trying to kiss you. I was drunk and— Clearly that’s not something you want and I get that…” You earnestly and awkwardly were trying to apologize but Trent couldn’t help but chuckle softly, interrupting you. 

“You honestly think I didn’t want to kiss you back?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. He kept his eyes on the TV, a coy smile tugging at his lips.  “Trust me, Y/N, it took everything in me to stop.” You looked at him, a flicker of confusion mixed with curiosity in your eyes. 

“Then why did you?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost vulnerable. Trent’s smile faded slightly as he turned to meet your gaze. 

“Because you were upset and not in a good place. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, especially after what that asshole did to you.” You flinched at the mention of Josh, the hurt from his cruel words still fresh in your mind. You looked away, your eyes downcast. 

“He… he said some awful things. It wasn’t great,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Trent’s grip on you tightened just a fraction, his touch becoming more reassuring. You sat there, your heart pounding as Trent's words hung in the air. He'd never spoken to you like that-direct, unfiltered, like he'd been holding back for too long. The way he placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers pressing just enough to make you aware of every inch of contact, sent a spark straight through you. Your mind raced to keep up, to make sense of what was happening, but he was already pushing forward, his tone low, serious, like he needed you to understand.

"That kid's a fucking idiot for losing you," he said, his voice tight, almost angry. "Saying whatever he could to make you feel small... he doesn't know shit about you, and you know that. Right?" You nodded slowly, words caught in your throat. It was true-you did know, somewhere deep down. But hearing it from Trent felt different, grounding, and it made the sting of your ex's words fade, bit by bit. Trent's hand stayed warm on your thigh, a quiet promise in the small gesture. You glanced up at him, your eyes searching his face. You could see the sincerity in his expression, the way his brow furrowed slightly with concern. 

“You really think that?” You asked quietly, your voice tinged with disbelief. Trent nodded, a small, earnest smile playing on his lips. 

“I know that. You’re smart, occasionally  funny,” he teased with a glint in his eyes and your lips curled,  “you’re the sweetest girl I know, and—” he hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly, “—gorgeous. You’re fucking gorgeous. Anyone who can’t see that is a fucking donut.” He kept his eyes on the TV, trying to play it cool, trying to be nonchalant in case anyone else happened to come into the room but he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He risked a quick glance at you and saw a soft smile slowly spreading across your face. The sight of it made his own heart lighten, the tension between you beginning to ease.

"Trent.." you started, wanting to say something, anything, but he shook his head slightly, a glimmer of intensity in his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he interrupted, each word sounding heavier than the last. It was like he'd been carrying them around, waiting for the right moment to let them out. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of nerves and thrill rushing through you as his gaze stayed locked on yours. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so it’d be impossible for anyone else to hear, his hand firm on your thigh. "And just so you know... that's not the way you get bruises. Never again. I'll fucking kill him if he ever comes near you." His eyes were dark, protective in a way that felt both comforting and incredibly dangerous. Then, in the midst of the tension, he smirked, the intensity softening into something else, something teasing. "The only bruises you ever get are from not being bored in the bedroom. Yeah?” Your breath caught, your face flushing as his words registered. You recalled telling when you split with Josh citing boredom in the bedroom as a problem but you were surprised he remembered that. Surprised he just said that to you. Before you could respond, he gave you a wink, that same smirk lingering as he stood up and walked away, leaving you stunned, heart racing, and desperate for him to come back.

You laid in your bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Trent. You could hear the low rumble of laughter drifting up from downstairs where Jack, Trent, and their friends were still hanging out. But your thoughts were miles away, lost in memories of Trent and all the moments you’d shared over the years. You closed your eyes and let the images flood your mind. The way he’d smile at you from across a room, a mischievous glint in his eyes, or the way he always seemed to find a reason to touch you—a hand on your shoulder, a playful nudge, his arm brushing against yours when they sat close. You thought about all the times he’d said sweet things to you, little compliments and comments that you’d always brushed off as friendly banter. You tried your entire life not to take the pet name ‘pretty girl’ too seriously, you always thought maybe he said that to every girl but now it felt personal and just for you. Was he talking about bruises in the bedroom in a sexual way, yeah 100% but did he mean that he would give them to you? Leave love bites on you? Your mind was racing.  But, lying there in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it. Your heart fluttered as you recalled the feel of his hand on your leg earlier tonight, the warmth of his touch and the firm yet gentle way he’d reassured you. You shivered, a pleasant tingle running through you as you thought of all the times his hands had been on you, even in the most innocent of ways. His touch always left a lingering warmth, a sensation that seemed to seep under your skin and settle deep within you, leaving you longing for more. You bit your lip, a wave of desire washing over you. In your longing haze, you wondered if maybe you’d been missing something all along. Had Trent been flirting with you all these years, in his subtle, teasing way but in all seriousness, did he want something? Was there something real to your relationship that you hadn’t let yourself see? Was it more than teasing? The thought sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Your fingers itched to reach for your phone, and before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed it from your bedside table. You couldn’t shake what he said to you, Trent had made it clear-it wasn't that he wasn't interested. Now, you were ready to take the risk, fully aware that all the boys were together. It was dangerous, maybe even reckless, but that only made it more exhilarating. They were watching a movie in the cinema room, the lights dimmed, everyone absorbed in whatever action scene was playing on the screen. You were upstairs in bed, restless and buzzing with anticipation. You flipped your phone camera to 0.5 to catch yourself at a high angle, tits prominently displayed in your thin bralette, the flash making your nipples obviously visible. You typed out a message, your fingers moving faster than your brain could catch up.

"Is this the appropriate place to get those bruises you were talking about?"

You pressed send, heart pounding in your chest. The silence afterward was deafening as you waited for a response. It was insane you just did this, but you couldn't back out now. A part of you wished you could retract it but there it was… ‘read.’ Trent opened the message, his heart skipping a beat. He blinked, unsure if he'd seen it right, unsure if you had actually sent it. This was the first time you'd ever texted him directly. Sure, you'd always been in the group chats-always flirty in your usual playful way-but nothing like this. The last personal message you'd sent was your order for a takeaway months ago, and before that, it had been something for your birthday and then passport details for a trip that seemed forever ago. A trip you weren’t sure why you were invited on to begin with but it was one where you'd teetered on the edge of something more with him but never quite tipped over. Now you had pushed things over that fragile edge with a stupid text. There was a reason for the limited texts though, because you knew it’d lead to something just like this. Trent swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the image, the words beneath it repeating in his head. He couldn't let the boys see this but he also didn’t want to look away. He couldn’t… but he had to.

Quickly, he swiped out of the message, his phone burning hot in his hand. He shoved the phone into his lap, screen down, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the visual of you barely in that bralette. He felt a slow, stupid grin spread across his face despite his best efforts. His heart was racing, and he could feel the tension building inside him. He knew things were spiraling. He'd always told himself this was a line he couldn't cross, but now? Now, it felt inevitable. Trent moved, his thumb hovered over his phone. He dimmed the screen, adjusted his seat in the chair, trying to play it cool making sure the other boys were none the wiser. His mind was racing, wondering if this was you really finally putting your hat in the ring. And god, if it was... there was no way he could say no. Now, all that was left was his response. Trent took his time responding, trying to be as calculated as possible. You stared at the screen, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for his response. The dots appeared then disappeared only to reappear, showing he was typing back, and your heart leaped into your throat. What was he going to say? Had you gone too far? You felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with a hint of fear. But underneath it all was a simmering excitement you couldn’t deny. You could practically feel the tension building in the air around you. Finally, your phone buzzed with a new message, and you hesitated before opening it, your pulse racing…

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 3 - Crossed A Few Lines xx

[welcometohellfilm]

Hi! I recently saw W2H2 part 1 and I must say it’s pretty amazing! Even better then the first one (which I loved btw), I know you anticipated that it wouldn’t have been full done, but I still wished the animation and the coloring were completed, like the first short. Nevertheless It has its charm anyway so good job, still amazing as always ! I just wanted to ask a few questions about Mephistopheles:

1) Is Mephistopheles actually capable of being evil and doing evil things as well ? Is he the type of guy that is usually pretty chill but can get REALLY angry if you piss him off? At the end of the first act, he said to Sock that he would fired him if he didn’t complete the job… did he mean literally “to fire him” (like burn or hurt him), or just meant “fired from the job” without causing him any harm? I am very curious about this character, I find him pretty charming and interesting! (I also love his character design)

2) How long will it be before the second and third parts of W2H2 release more or less (Months, years…)? And how long each part will be? Don’t wanna put preassure on you ofc , I’m just curious but I will be patient if that’s the case!

Thank you for this amazing little cartoon! I really love the plot and the characters and I look foward to see more! I hope you’ll reply soon and thank u again <33 (also sorry for my bad english but I am Italian eheh)

haha... yeah I'm getting that comment from a lot of people. But idk, when I look at the first short it looks pretty incomplete to me! Like to me, I think having better animation and less color is a decent trade-off, but I guess for a lot of people the color really did a lot of heavy-lifting. Anyway, I know it's a little disappointing, but my options were "call it good enough and post it", or "drive myself crazy working on it until I die", I know that sounds dramatic, and maybe I could've forced myself to finish at least throwing color on it, but I don't know, I didn't want to start resenting the thing I'm supposed to be passionate about. I kinda put myself between a rock and a hard place, didn't I? Sorry for the rant! I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway, haha. UHHH on to questions! 1. Mephistopheles is complicated. Or at least, I think he is, and I'm trying to figure out what that balance is. (I have an entire wordpad file full of notes/thoughts on Mephistopheles from one of my friends who's given a surprising amount of thought to the morality of the character that I'm gonna have to reference moving forward, haha). But as for my original thoughts on the character--- I don't consider him evil, but I think he's capable of doing things we would call 'evil', just like any human is. And like humans, he can be motivated by flawed, negative thoughts and feelings; spite, revenge, jealousy, whatever. But unlike humans he exists outside of space and time, and he's not a human himself, so his perception of morality is just different. The "you're fired" comment is meant to be a little confusing... like, you come to expect these stupid hell jokes from him, but then he clarifies "that wasn't a pun". And he's the devil, so maybe he's not joking. He COULD condemn Sock to hell. So that's the stakes of the story! If Meph is serious, Sock could be in a lot of trouble. We're not sure exactly how lenient he's going to be, or how trust-worthy he is. He's the devil! Toying with people is kind of his whole thing! haha. 2. It's not gonna' be another 10 years, that's for sure!!! Most of Part 2 is already rough animated (at least as much as Part 1 has been). There's still... one or two scenes that need more animation, and pretty much every shot of Shadow!Jonathan still needs to be done. It also needs more backgrounds, but there's FEWER backgrounds in Part 2 (Hell is just a re-usable Shadow-Realmy-y void), and a lot of the stuff from Jonathan's house can be re-used with different lighting. I'll have a better idea of the timeline once I sit down and crack it open again... and it's about to get kind of busy with the holidays and all, but it should be finished some time next year! Hopefully in the first half of 2025! I'll try to keep everyone posted. Anyway thanks for your questions! Hope this helped!

[uriekukistan]

megumi character analysis, fearsome womb arc edition: establishing motivations

as im going through my re-read of jujutsu kaisen, i wanted to share some of my thoughts on characters and topics that im most passionate about, and of course megumi is one of those things. disclaimer, i am only going to be referring to things that occurred during the fearsome womb arc in this post, so the range of material im using to support my points is a bit limited.

my point in doing this is to draw attention to the misconceptions about megumi that lead to the large amount of hate he’s been receiving over the past year. if you keep up with the jjk fandom, you’ve no doubt seen the bumgumi allegations (eye twitches). honestly, i think a lot of this comes from a lack of understanding of megumi’s character, and what pushes him to act, or in some cases, not act. to me, this is absolutely wild, because megumi is one of the characters whose motivations and intentions are stated straight from the beginning, quite possibly some of the clearest stated motivations in the entire series.

i. he was never interested in being a sorcerer and has an established distaste for the system.

i would agree that sometimes megumi is a bit half-assed in his actions, but it’s important to understand why. he isn’t fond of his job. the reasoning behind this is not established until later on, but megumi’s stance is very clear. compared to nobara and yuuji, he’s very focused on getting his job done, rather than saving people.

being a sorcerer is not something he cares particularly about. it's just a task that he has to get done.

there’s also the way he talks about being a jujutsu sorcerer as being a “cog” in a system that he is personally disgusted with, due to the fact that it does nothing to help good people, like tsumiki for example.

sorcerers are one part of a system that completely disgusts him. his decision to save yuuji is another example of this.

his distaste for this system is clearly established early on in the story when he asks gojo to save yuuji because he can’t stand to see a good person like that die just because someone else somewhere said it was “right.” so it makes sense that he’s not going to put his all in all of the time, but it’s not because he’s lazy or a bum or a waste of potential. it’s because of his core sense of justice that has been a part of him and a central theme in jjk since the beginning.

ii. he is interested in saving good people.

i don’t want to spend too much time on this because it’s a pretty discussed and well-recognized aspect of megumi’s character, but this is a pretty fundamental principle behind his actions. for the most part, he is able to buckle down and do what he is “supposed” to do, regardless of if it’s what he personally believes is right, but there’s a visible difference in his effort level when there is someone he believes is good at stake.

when it’s the people he cares about at stake, he can and will push himself beyond his limits. after saving nobara, megumi is completely exhausted.

despite this, he still chooses to stay behind and wait for him, and puts forward the most effort he’d displayed thus far in the series, using his technique and his body more efficiently and more boldly than before, because yuuji is someone he believes is worth saving

he's also ready to let himself die to save yuuji.

in contrast, when fighting against todo, he shows an arguably much lower capacity of both his technique and his physical abilities compared to when he went against sukuna to save yuuji, because what's at stake is "only" himself, not someone he believes is "good," according to his own definition. he's not thinking about how to push his technique to be better or anything like that.

there's far better examples of this in other arcs, so i think i generally spoke about this and how it plays into the megumi hate better here, mostly because i’m restricting my materials for this analysis.

iii. he uses challenges as motivation to push himself beyond his limits.

in a somewhat different direction (aka not fully related to my overall point but i wanted to mention it anyway), megumi uses challenges to his abilities as an opportunity to grow. by challenges, i specifically mean verbal taunts. there’s not quite as many examples of this in just the fearsome womb arc, but probably the best example is when he figures out how to use shadows as an inventory for cursed tools, he remembers what sukuna said to him at the detention center, and it’s what motivates him to grow.

additionally, when he’s fighting against todo, he’s pushed to put more into the fight by todo taunting him and challenging his strength. if only inumaki hadn't stopped them, i would have loved to see what he pulled out...when megumi gets that crazy look, you know it's gonna be good.

this is interesting to me, because megumi is someone who carries a lot of self doubt, but the second someone else starts to doubt him, he pushes himself harder. he doesn’t want others to doubt him, despite constantly doubting himself.

anyway, i hope this was a useful look at why megumi acts the way he does. i think it’s very interesting how much he gets misinterpreted, despite how clearly his characteristics are laid out for the reader.

[voxofthevoid]

I loved your answer to the Sukuita anon! I’d also like to ask for some elaboration if that’s okay: when you said that Sukuna in the manga says he finds Yuji boring but is borderline obsessed with him, can I ask how you got to that interpretation/conclusion? I myself am a MASSIVE sukuita shipper and yet sometimes I struggle w the ship because it feels like Sukunas hate for Yuji is so,,, rigid? To me it’s not just hate sometimes it borders on disdain/apathy which is a lot less forgiving than a passionate feeling like hate I think? And it narrows down the plausibility of a relationship between them (which makes me sad bc I ship these two BAAAADDDDDD 😭😭). So I just wanna know how you reconciled that aspect of their relationship.

When I ship something I don’t wanna feel like the characters would have to be OOC to be together (I’m not one of those people who can soften a char’s edges in my imagination to make it fit the ship), which Sukuita often feels like. Straight up giving me ship-imposter syndrome 😭 💀 making me ask myself am I being delulu? Do these two chars even have chemistry fr?

I think I’ve just never seen a character like Sukuna call another char BORING this much before. Like damn Sukuna can’t even say he hates Yuji 😭 he gotta call him boring 😭😭 and that makes me wanna kms 😭 😭 I don’t wanna ship a fraud ship so please help me see what you see.

I’ve never shipped something so hard while simultaneously being so confused and conflicted over shipping it.

*pats pats* I can understand that dilemma. Hate is a very passionate emotion, while indifference/apathy is defined by lack of passion. How's that quote go—the opposite of love isn't hate but indifference? I'd also find it harder to get into a ship where one party outright doesn't care about the other, while mutual or even one-sided hate are prime shipping grounds.

But in this case, without any real insight into your head, I'd wager a guess that you're experiencing this disconnect because you have critically picked up on the undercurrents of Sukuna and Yuuji's relationship but are consciously too caught up in what Sukuna says.

He be lyin' though. To himself, most of all. There's a reason I specified he must be in denial in that post you saw.

Sukuna very badly wants Yuuji to be boring. He wants Yuuji to not matter—for his ideals to be foolish, for his will to wither. Most importantly, Sukuna wants to be completely unaffected by Yuuji. He tries to emphasize this so many times in so many ways: he never calls Yuuji by name (except once at the beginning and then at the very end), he belittles and mocks Yuuji at every opportunity, and he says in a variety of ways that Yuuji's boring and inconsequential.

But look at his actions, the way he behaves. From the beginning, whenever he takes over Yuuji, Sukuna tries to do things that will not only bring him joy but also shatter Yuuji, and the degree of his targeted malice only increases as the story progresses. The devastation at Shibuya is a natural consequence of Sukuna's fight with Jogo and then Mahoraga, but that final moment where he takes care to lead Yuuji to the very edge of the crater, taunting him while making sure Yuuji will witness the full scale of the devastation the instant he opens his eyes? That's so intensely personal.

And it only gets worse after Sukuna switches to Megumi's body; there are glaring contradictions between what he tells Yuuji and how he acts/reacts. Honestly, even his interior monologue contradicts what he says half the time. Both in the last few chapters of "Cursed Womb: Under Heaven" and "The Decisive Battle in the Uninhabited, Demon-Infested Shinjuku," there's a running thread of Sukuna verbally dismissing Yuuji while actively being shocked, offended, confused, and even cornered by his actions. And whenever the battle narrows to just the two of them, you have Sukuna continuously needling Yuuji to get a rise out of him, while Yuuji's fixated on just tearing into him and saving Megumi—until Yuuji's domain expansion, that is.

The crux of it is there in Chapter 248, explicitly realized by Sukuna himself. Sharing a body with Yuuji, their souls coexisting in excruciating proximity, forced Sukuna to understand and be aware of Yuuji in a way that's deeply uncomfortable to Sukuna, both because of his character and because of how diametrically opposed Yuuji's values and ideals are to Sukuna's nature. Even the very act of understanding Yuuji discomfits Sukuna. Naturally, he resolves to shatter those ideals and Yuuji himself.

Yuuji's DE and its aftermath also illustrate this. You have Sukuna outright saying he feels "absolutely nothing" about the humanity Yuuji showcased only to become incandescently angry the instant he perceives Yuuji as pitying him. There's nothing apathetic about the way he resolves to tear apart everyone Yuuji loves before killing him; he even admits out loud that he's surprised by the intensity of his hatred.

Fundamentally, Yuuji changed him, and Sukuna fucking hated it the entire time—the premonition, the process, the result. He's so insistent on Yuuji meaning nothing because to accept otherwise challenges the very foundation Sukuna built his existence on. To him, Yuuji is an existential threat, and we see it realized in the afterlife scene, where Sukuna admits to wanting to try a kinder path in life. That's one hell of an admittance coming from him, but it's also an admittance he could only have made in death, in loss.

In the end, he died cradled by Yuuji, verbally rejecting him using Yuuji's own words while simultaneously acknowledging Yuuji by using his proper name. And ain't that sukuita in a nutshell?

Even outside of the shipping goggles, they're a central narrative-driving force in the final arc and for good reason.

I do think the development of this relationship could have benefited from (a) the Shinjuku Showdown arc having a tighter focus, instead of being so drawn out and haphazard, and (b) Yuuji's DE and the parts around it being expanded to cover a Heian era flashback as well as more insights into Yuuji's understanding of Sukuna. I read or skimmed like twenty chapters just to put this post together because while I trust my memory, I wanted concrete references, and it really showed how scattered the emotional core of the Sukuna gauntlet is.

[fr33time]

hello!

thank you for taking my request about subaru, it was so cute and subaru is literally my favorite character, he deserves the world 💕

i hope you don’t mind for another request about him 😂

i was wondering how he would react for a s/o who always teases him and stuff?

i feel like he would be flustered all the time 😂

thank you and rest well 🙏

A/N: I love doing requests for Subaru, he is so adorable. Hopefully next episode we see him more, it feels like its been a while since we’ve seen him, phew. I tried to think of as much as I could so enjoy them, I hope it’s up to standards! Tried to get one more submission done before tomorrow! I get really tired after work and I’m very bad at making myself do something, because I want to put my passion into it. Thank you anon for sending this in, have a nice day!

♥︎ Subaru Kagami with an S/O that teases him ♥︎

divider credits: @xiaonyc

Genre: Fluff, Headcanons

Find my requesting rules here!

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♥︎ Subaru is already shy during a relationship, but he has an even harder time when you tease him all the time. Sure he gets embarrassed but he finds that it’s a cute trait on you. He never really knows when to expect it, he tells himself that he can handle it next time you make a comment but ultimately fails in the end.

♥︎ When you first started to tease him, he wouldn’t respond for a few good seconds because of how surprised he was. He doesn’t really have many people around him that aren’t serious with him since he’s a ghoul and also the captain of Hotarubi. Plus Subaru just has a quiet look to himself in general! He finds it a breath of fresh air that you can have that kind of relationship with him.

…that being said, it’s not like he can tease you back cause he gets relatively silent. It’s not as if he doesn’t like it, he just hasn’t encountered a situation like this before. He gets little blushes on his face that can make you want to squish his face. Your best bet to easily flustering him is through physical affection or little comments that come out of nowhere, it catches him off guard so bad.

♥︎ Once he starts getting used to it, he starts to tease you back a bit more. Only in private though, he wants to maintain a slightly professional demeanour about himself… and honestly, he just gets really anxious thinking about teasing you in public. He’s very hesitant about it though, he’s worried that he’ll accidentally hurt you with what he says so he makes sure to choose his words carefully. He definitely says sorry after he makes a remark to you…

♥︎ He’ll bring it up to you if he doesn’t like something, in a worst case scenario where you may tease him too much in a less friendly way, he wonders if somethings wrong. But with reassurance he’s fine! He just worries a bit too much, and tries to communicate his concerns to you so that he can keep the relationship stable, you mean a lot to him and he doesn’t wanna lose you because of his tendency to bottle up feelings!

♥︎ The most he can do is give you little compliments that make you feel a bit embarrassed. He just does not have the heart to poke fun at you, sometimes he can play along if you’re having fun but not on his own, no way. He makes it so easy to tease him though, he will absolutely crack under pressure.

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[cardboardheartss]

Hi! Could you elaborate on your post about Nicholas Alexander Chavez ? 😭 It made me laugh but I need to know more!

Have a nice day <3

Nicholas Chavez Short D1 Chart Analysis

disclaimer : this is for entertainment purposes only and i used tarot cards to get an estimate of his birth time… if you don’t agree with this technique please kindly scroll by and keep your twitter fingers to yourself!🌹💢

Before I begin, I just wanted to point out that I got beef with Virgos lol! Those people just tick me off for some odd reason, so that’s why the placements through me off!🤣

Anyways!!

Sure! I wanted to do a chart reading for him today but I was just too tired because I had done another customers chart reading today so I need to rest my brain lol!

So that’s why I just made a subtle post about it; but anyways here we go :

Just looking at the 1H placements, this guy is purely just here on earth to work, he is hardworking and a perfectionist. He may not say it on interviews but looking at this chart, this man really did his work on building his character for Lyle.

He studied this whole case HARD! Which is why he is able to perform his role so well!

Extremely smart guy! He is truly always at least 10 steps ahead.

Now… I’m sure you’ve heard of him not wanting to visit Lyle Menéndez, well that could be because of his ENTIRE Virgo 1H square His 7H (business, contracts and etc) Pisces placements. This prominent aspect does scream “Purely here to just work, nothing else!”

More aspects of his chart like :

12H Leo Sun Square 3H Scorpio Industria, this is another aspect that explains why he seems so off putting and serious in interviews, he seems to not enjoy interviews that much or just being active within the Hollywood scene… because of you know of what’s been exposed lately…

10H Gemini Moon Square 4H Sagittarius Jupiter, this aspect can indicate more of a separation of Public and Private life. He is aware of what to share and not what to share, so don’t expect him to be all jolly and expressive like Cooper lol!

I am aware of people on the socials going around and viewing Nicholas as rude and stuff but once again… looking at his chart;

12H Leo Sun Trine 4H Sagittarius Jupiter?! He is one fun person to be around, Nicholas has high discernment, he knows who he can have fun with and who he needs to work with. Nicholas is more outgoing and expressive around people close to him like family, his partners and friends, he values those the most and feels safest around them.

In summary… Nicholas is just here to work as mentioned by this tarot reader. He could view high levels of fame as quite a toxic thing that he truly despises with the entirety of his heart! Looking at his chart! Nicholas is just here to work and do what hes passionate about.

Looking at the amount of Cancer 11H placements (PoF, Lilith, Venus & Mars) is also a quadruple confirmation of how Nicholas is prone to attracting a lot of attention from Fan Boys and Girls. 11H Lilith Trine 7H Fama, it seems like the more sexy/mysterious roles or just roles that appeal to the female audience he does, he will continue to attract more attention, like A LOT of it.

Nicholas is 28 this year, meaning hes in his 5H Profection Year… here is his Profection chart (left) and his Transit Chart for the Profection Year (right).

The Transit 11H Libra in his 1H is just screaming RECOGNITION mainly for his visuals! All the 11H planets are currently square his Transit 5H Aries Rahu, this is more confirmation of how overwhelming this attention is to him. 12H Natal Sun Square Transit 1H Sagittarius Ascendant that’s in his Natal 3H, just screams the man just wants to be alone in a way. He kinda fears the attention that’s on him rn.

Well! That’s it for Nicholas for today! So I hope that his newly founded fandom will take some time to read this post and understand their new White Boy of the Months personality!

[caustinen]

hii talented person!! your hollywood au has me HOOKED & i love how in character you’ve made them!! your brain >>>

this is super random but i couldn’t help but think of an au (idk if it’s within this one or just a similar one to this one) where buck can like sing & i just feel like it’s just so him in a way to like express his feelings completely in song & like say everything he can’t quite say to bucky the way bucky does to him through that.

and again completely obsessed with you and your content, appreciate it sm!!

(so this unexpecedly turned into hollywood au drabble for a significant first in the relationship, i hope you like it despite it going a bit off the rails 🥲) so here goes:

hollywood au first ’i love you’ hc:

ooh i love this idea!!! i’m instantly thinking about this in terms of another amazing au, but to first incorporate it into the hollywood one:

while i don’t see gale maybe being a musician/writing the songs himself in this au, i headcannon him being very good with words, no matter if it’s about being eloquent and adjusting his speech to fit any context, but also appreciating well phrased text in any form, be it lyrics or poems or scripts or books or whatever. at the start of their relationship bucky would be constantly thrown off as the man he still perceives as somewhat quiet/soft spoken (at least compared to himself) can just out of nowhere say something very profound or just state the simplest of things in unexpectedly beautiful and inspiring ways, wether it was telling about his day, wanting to read quotes out loud from the book he’s working through that move him or kind of telling him he loves him without the actual worss in creative, genuine ways that leave him in awe.

and ahh thinking about the first time bucky hears gale sing!!!!! it’s early in the relationship still, and maybe it’s along to a tune from the radio or humming absent-mindedly while cooking or something but it stops bucky on his tracks — gale would NEVER sing at the karaoke or anywhere in public and maybe he assumed he’s just not musical like that or doesn’t know how to sing and doesn’t see the appeal of making a fool of himself like some others do — but this is how he learns that he infact has a beautiful, soft voice and a good ear to stay in tune, and since gale loves a good text, whenever he sings along to a song he really likes he knows the words and sings them with passion despite never being loud. it only makes it more special to realize buck’s probably never been comfortable enough to sing with anyone else, and the fondness and the feeling of being special to someone almost makes him choke back happy tears.

he doesn’t want to point it out in case gale would become self-conscious about it, but one sunday morning when they’re lazing in bed, john’s cheeks mushed against gale’s chest as the other is sitting up against the headboars and playing with his curls gale suddenly starts to sing ’can’t help falling in love’ so softly john can tell he’s completely lost in thought and just looking at him has made him sing it subconsciously, and this thought combined with listening to gale’s heartbeat breaks a dam in him. he sits up suddenly enough that gale yelps in surprise even before being pushed to his back on the bed and getting a lapful of bucky pressing wet kisses all over his face, and despite being confused gale starts to giggle.

”wha-” ”i love you.” this makes gale still, it’s the first time either of them has said it — it’s been right there, in the air, on the small silence after saying goodbye on the phone — but it still makes him hitch. john keeps pressing little kisses all over his face, and he seems so nonchalant about it, but by now gale can tell he’s nervous. after one more beat of being stunned to stillness he finally gets his wits back and next time john leans to kiss him he takes his face between his when he leans back.

”yeah?” he rasps, and john lets out a heavy chuckle, almost desperate sounding. ”yeah. huh. i love you.” gale’s breath hitches again. he can count with fingers of one hand how many times he’s been told these words by anyone before this moment, and now john has said them twice, and it send him on a loop. john seems to notice, and he looks almost apologetic, and that’s not what gale wants at all, so he sits up, john still sprawled in his lap, and hugs him tight, pressing his face to john’s neck and breathing heavily. john presses his face to gale’s hair and rubs his hand clumsily over the smaller man’s back and tries to not crush him under his bigger frame.

”you don’t have to say it back,” he whispers gently, ”i just, i don’t know. you know how i am. it came to me and it felt so big in my chest that i couldn’t contain it. and i felt like i wanted to tell you, no matter what, because lately i want to tell you kind of everything. and because i really do love you.”

gale twiches and makes a sound that is a mixture of sob and a whine. then he mutters something against john’s collarbone where his face is still pressed tightly against, but john has no idea what he said, can only tell he even said actual words by the tickling of his lips against skin. ”what?” he says, easy laugh on his breath, and that’s the final encouragement gale needs, because he knows what the feeling he gets is everytime he hears that laugh.

he turns his head so that it’s his cheek and not whole face against his neck now. ”i love you too,” he mutters again but it’s intelligble this time, and john’s heart actually flutters, he can tell because they are so tightly pressed together and while his lower body is losing sensation under his boyfriend’s weight he can feel everything else very fucking fine right now.

it’s silent for a while, just them hugging each other in the sunday morning sun, until bucky says ”cool.” and gale tries to fight him after that and they wrestle until they’re breathless from lauging and kissing and the addicitng high of being in love, and after that john isn’t afraid to ask gale to sing for him even tho it gets him an eyeroll every single time.

(idk what it is about this au that i can’t be normal about and everything turns into a minific IM SO SORRY but also i think there’s a lot of potential in singer!john songwriter!gale and john doesn’t know gale’s the one writing all these lovesongs his company is pushing for him to perform there’s so much cute miscommunication and realization right there!!)

[damnfandomproblems]

Response to 5634: Mkay, do not start complaining about something you like being censored because you’re acting indifferent to someone being pro-censorship bully arguing with an anti-censorship and anti-harassment person.

The reason why these arguments are a big deal (and you can just ignore the arguments by blocking if it bugs you that much) is because the arguments antis make is similar to that of puritans, old ignorant people trying to blame video games for school shootings and wanting games like GTA censored or banned, and people that were book burners as one of the commenters pointed out.

Antis actively go into spaces they KNOW they hate with a passion and make callout posts that were designed to harass people, Antis legit made blogs PURELY just to bully someone over dead dove fanfiction, and antis are the most bigoted people, when someone who writes content they don’t like just so happens to be a minority, it quickly is no longer about fictional content they hate, now they gotta be racist towards a POC writer (I’ve seen this happen to a South Asian woman).

Antis have also been the reason why some artists get ran off the internet. I’ve seen it happen to a non-binary artist who was harassed off the internet a pseudo-incest ship. Their Twitter, Tumblr blog, and anything else they had were all wiped from existence, and I will never forgive the people that did that to them.

Antis are also the most insensitive people and insult real life rape victims or people that have had CSEM made of them. Jenna Ortega had CSEM made of her by sick freaks that made explicit AI generated photos of her as a kid. Then idiots made it about weird gross anime porn fetishes and that is how it leads to creeps online making CSEM or prey on real life kids. Read the GODDAMN room.

Speaking of CSEM, antis have defended Netflix’s Cuties, which is actual CSEM in comparison to drawings and fanfiction with underage characters.

Another anti who was ironically an artist also responded to a CSA survivor saying, “do not equate my pain and suffering to anime drawings” in the most insulting way imaginable with an eye roll gif.

There has also been cases where antis were caught being a creep towards children. One minute an anti is calling people “pedophiles” over fiction, next thing you know, they got caught sexting a minor, they have actual convictions and are on the sex offender registry, they accepted minors into their 18+ space, or literally anything else that involves endangering minors. Which is why I’m bracing myself for a similar incident in the JJK fandom with all the puritans running around invading tags like an obnoxious person.

I could go on, but this is already long enough as it is. Now, the next time you wanna play that Peter Griffin clip on full blast saying, “who the hell cares,” think about everything I said here.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

What other novels to your inbox do you recommend? I have done Dracula Daily for years and I want to expand my horizon. War is pretty much the only thing that I don't like. Thanks

Hi!

So funny story, contrary to my username and bio…I have not been keeping up with the classic novels in my emails lately. BUT. That does not mean I don’t have some recommendations for you!

Also, since you did mention you don’t like war, I made sure not to recommend any novels that heavily involve war (War & Peace & Emails, for instance). However, I do know some characters in these recommendations have history with war (e.g. Watson was a war doctor) and I’ve made sure to make mention of that wherever possible. So, I apologize if that comes off as annoying or stating the obvious, I just want you to be fully informed before you read. I’m also listing general content warnings as a rule to inform anyone who might be interested in these Substacks. :)

On to the recommendations!

If you’re looking for mystery…

Learn about the greatest detective of all time from his faithful partner — that’s right! Read Letters from Watson to get the scoop on Sherlock and solve mysteries alongside the legendary duo. I thought this was such a cool concept and I wish I had been able to keep up with it. But it was very fun for the time I did. It goes through the entire chronology of Sherlock stories (which is a lot, by the way) and they just started going through the “more complex cases” (aka, the 4 Sherlock novels) back in January. So, it might be a good time to start! There isn’t war in these cases (at least as far as I know, each email does have a list of content warnings for specifics), but Watson was a war doctor and this does come up frequently, just as a heads up.

If you’re looking for epistolary stories…

Literary Letters takes obscure epistolary novels from the public domain and puts them into your inbox! Right now they’re reading The Sorrows of Young Werther, which is about a guy who’s in love with a girl who’s betrothed to another and writes very passionate letters on the subject.

For a content warning, I’ve included the publisher’s note on this one: “There are passages where the book discusses Werther’s depression, despair, rationalizations for suicide, and the suicide itself at length, so please take whatever precautions you need to read the book safely, which may include buddy reading, mental health breaks, or skipping it altogether.”

So with that being said, the reason I got into this email chain was actually for their first novel they emailed - The Lightning Conductor. I absolutely loved this novel and I heavily recommend going back into the archives to read it and its sequel if you can (that one is in the “Side Stories” archive). It’s a very lighthearted read and a romance, told in epistolary format! Basically, it’s about this smart (yet a bit scatterbrained — not judging, because, same) woman who goes to Europe for the first time and she ends up meeting a gentleman when her car breaks down. Said gentleman is mistaken for a chauffeur and he goes along with it, just because she’s dreamy and he’s already smitten with her. Then there’s her “best guy friend” and her mom trying to throw a wrench in their plans. It’s utter chaos and I love it. I could go on for hours about this novel, but I won’t! I do highly recommended reading it if you ever get the chance.

If you’re looking for a read in verse format…

Check out Divine Comedy Weekly! It’s telling Dante’s Divine Comedy every Tuesday and Thursday. There’s not much to say about this one because I dropped out pretty early in the game, unfortunately. For some reason, stories told in a lyrical/verse format don’t seem to be my thing, but maybe they’re your thing! I think it’s a great concept and for that reason, I will recommend this.

If you’re looking for an all-new read…

North and South by Jane Austen is coming to your inbox this June! It’s apparently a bit like Pride and Prejudice but with the Industrial Revolution and labor relations. I actually just subscribed to this one and I’m excited to see how I enjoy it!

If you’re looking for a long haul read…

Buckle in! It’s time for Whale Weekly! That’s right, you’re in for a THREE YEAR TRIP with this bad boy because Ishmael is emailing you the tale of Moby Dick. Life has gotten in the way and I’ve fallen behind (though this is motivating me to catch up again), but this is actually really good as an email read because this guy goes on so many tangents, it’s more fun for me to absorb his thoughts in spaced out emails, rather than if I tried to read the book.

The memes are very fun with this one, but please keep in mind there is racism and foul language in this, as well as other heavy topics I can’t remember off the top of my head. Also, this does not take place in a war setting, but I do believe some characters have been in war in the past, so that is probably something to keep in mind with this one!

This one is coming to an end fairly soon (I didn’t realize we were on chapter 113/135 OOF), so I don’t know if they’re going to do another round after this or leave it. I imagine it would probably be hard to catch up at this point, but I’m going to link it anyway because I typed all of this up before realizing how far along we were and I do still recommend the read in email format rather than a novel format.

If you’re looking for horror…

I would recommend “The Beetle Weekly”. I wasn’t able to finish this one because LifeTM got in the way, but it is, for sure, one of the reads of all time. Probably the best and worst thing you could read ever tbh. It’s not very enjoyable and I’m not pitching it well at all, but for some reason, I am legitimately recommending this because it is hilarious to read with Tumblr memes by your side. As a heads up, this book does include racism, gore, sexism, transphobia (iirc?) and likely more content warnings I can’t remember. The reason I’m recommending it at all is because it does carry some of the same themes as Dracula and the characters are interesting. Plus, love it or hate it, I reacted while reading this book - a lot. Did I mention I have a bug phobia? Also, fun fact: it was published at the same time as Dracula and was actually MORE POPULAR than Dracula for a while before fading into obscurity.

The only thing is, it did just end last April so you might have to wait until December for it to crawl back into your inbox if you’re interested.

If you’re looking for a thriller…

Jekyll and Hyde Weekly. I absolutely LOVED THIS ONE!!!! Very much vibes of Dracula Daily. Immaculate stuff right there. This one has a lot more comedy than you’d think and was very enjoyable. Content warnings for violence against a child (mentioned, not shown), body horror, and there is one more I can’t say without spoiling the book (feel free to DM me if you’re interested in knowing).

Again, this is pretty short and it’s not currently active; it runs November through January, so that’s when you can look out for it!

I was hoping to recommend some more via a masterlist, I know someone made a post waaay back in 2022 when this serialized email novel thing first got started, but it looks like it got deleted, so if there is a new one, I would love for anyone to share it just for future reference!

I do have a couple of honorable mentions I’ll link that I haven’t read and know next to nothing about, but just so you can have even more recommendations. Please feel free to share your favorites!

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts from an interview with Jonathan and Maria Friedman at the Los Angeles Times by Charles McNulty, with photos by Justin Jun Lee:

Hopefulness and regret are calibrated to perfection in a revival that ought to be filmed before it closes July 7. I’ve seen the New York production twice, and the psychology only deepens on subsequent viewing.

The key to making this work — which is to say making us care — is the performance of Groff, who humanizes Frank’s choices without sentimentalizing his arc. Frank can come off as a narcissist, a guy who can’t resist whatever shiny object happens to be in front of him. But Groff, who received Tony nominations for his performances in “Spring Awakening” and “Hamilton” and deserves to win for his beautifully layered work in “Merrily,” reveals what Mary and Charley see in him and don’t want to give up on: an answer to their dreams of fulfillment — romantic in Mary’s case, artistic in Charley’s.

Groff was fresh from filming HBO’s “Spring Awakening: Those You’ve Known,” a reunion concert with the show’s original cast and creative team, when casting director Jim Carnahan asked him about his interest in “Merrily.” He immediately watched the London production on YouTube and was struck by an image from the opening number that matched something he had just re-created for the “Spring Awakening” doc.

“Frank walks out with a red folder, and Mary and Charley come out and stand in the exact positions that John Gallagher Jr. and Lea Michele stood in at the end of ‘Spring Awakening,’ with the girl over the left shoulder, the guy over the right,” he said, speaking from his dressing room at the Hudson Theatre. “That is the final bit of ‘Spring Awakening’ and I was like, ‘Oh, that’s so weird. I just lived that.’”

But it was one of Frank’s lines that really clinched the deal for Groff: “I’ve made only one mistake in my life. But I made it over and over and over. That was saying ‘yes’ when I meant ‘no.’” “When I heard that,” Groff said, “I went, ‘Oh, my God. I have to play this. I have done that. I’m just learning how to not do that. Yeah, I get him.’”

“I cast Jonathan for many reasons,” Friedman said. “One, because he’s absolutely brilliant. But I cast a big heart, a beating heart.”

“The amusement and bafflement of having a go at life and everyone wanting a piece of you — that is the place that Jonathan works from,” Friedman said. “Everyone wants a piece of Frank. That’s what happens with brilliant people. Jonathan is not just brilliant and beautiful but also one of the kindest men. And kindness is central to this production.”

Groff, who was exceptional in the short-lived HBO series “Looking” about a group of young gay men living in San Francisco, said that, from “a queer perspective,” he could identify with the way Frank represses parts of himself to please others.

“Growing up closeted, I became an expert at dodging questions and shining a light on other people,” he said. “This can create a relationship dynamic where you’re in a constant state of service to others — like the perfect son who’s hiding something. That stereotype feels connected to the way Frank supports everybody’s dreams, talents, neuroses and needs. He’s able to do it because he’s full of passion and genuine love for those people.”

So how exactly did Friedman, Groff & Co. finally solve the riddle of “Merrily”? By approaching it the way they might a play by Shakespeare or Chekhov, sifting through the lyrics as though they were lines in “Hamlet” and digging into the psychology of the characters as though mining subtext in “Uncle Vanya.”

This revival, fittingly, has been a team effort. And the ensemble’s collaborative joy only reinforces our sense that, however much Frank, Charley and Mary may bitterly disappoint one another, their bond will always be the best thing that ever happened to them.

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

Fuuta and the Five Man Band Trope; BG Characters, User Icons and Graffiti Patterns Analysis

Hello members of the jury! Did you know Bring it On and Backdraft are very awesome? It’s true! Look it up!

Anyways, today I want to talk about a particular aspect of Bring it On which I consider interesting, and that is the gaggle of characters who show up all throughout the video, both in the “RPG fight scenes” and in the messages all around. In particular, these four who stand besides Fuuta after Killcheroy’s defeat, before abandoning him in the next few frames.

All of them show up in all three battles in one way or another, and the fact they’re here makes me think. See, I believe there are four of them to allude to a very common narrative trope used in a lot of fantasy stories, the Five Man Band. A trope where the story follows a group of five, of which the protagonist is the leader, and all the characters fit into certain archetypes. If you want a better explanation, I’ll recommend this fantastic video by Overly Sarcastic Productions, which is how I know about the trope in the first place.

There were already a few things making me think of this trope in Bring it On, so it’s especially interesting that it seems to carry over into Backdraft as well, with only four paint cans appearing in all three graffiti campaigns.

(Yes there’s a fifth one against Killcheroy, don’t worry I’ll get to it)

Blue, orange, yellow (also looks orange in the screenshots), pink paint/purple can. So, a recurring group of five with Fuuta. Is it possible, then, that these are related? Well, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. And in doing so, I accidentally fell into a rabbit hole which ended with me trying to assign each character an user icon and trying to figure out who killed Killcheroy- ooh boy.

Yeah as a warning this post is pretty reach-y and unhinged, but I like over-analyzing background characters so.

CW: Cyberbullying and online harassment, doxxing, death and murder, mentioned sexual harassment, mention of suicide, Killcheroy choking on paint image.

I’ll talk about each character individually, their role in the Five Man Band trope, who I believe they are in terms of user icon, and which paint can I believe represents them in Backdraft.

The Hero/Leader: Fuuta

In stories where only one member of the party is the protagonist, they are most likely to be the leader. They are the most outwardly heroic, usually passionate and driven, and of course, the leader of the group, the one who makes the tough decisions. In terms of fighting style, they’re usually well-rounded short range fighters.

Obviously this is Fuuta. Not only is he obviously the protagonist, he’s the one who puts up the ‘wanted’ posters for the second and third battle (though not the first!), and in those two battles he’s shown as the first to enter battle. He’s also the one who first sprays over the graffiti in Backdraft, obviously using the red can. In terms of combat style, he also fits pretty well, as he’s a short-ranged fighter, but still has quite a bit of versatility. Looking at his move sets:

Left and top look to be simple attacks, but bottom appears to be some kind of Area of Effect attack and right appears to be a self-healing move. What the hell that would look like in the context of online discourse, I have no idea. Additionally, it is common for the protagonist to exhibit the most growth in terms of powers, which certainly fits his shifting moveset.

In case you’re not aware, he’s also “pazuzu” in the social media seen in Bring it On. He’s the only one with a consistent username, the rest all vary throughout the MV, and the only way to recognize them is through user icon. No idea what Fuuta has to do with a god of wind, but here we are.

I don’t think I have to justify this one too much. Let’s move on to the focus of the post, the other people.

The Lancer: Spear Guy

The Lancer is the Leader’s right hand man, or alternatively their second in command. They may disagree on occasion, but they can be very close friends who always have each other’s backs. The Lancer can fit a ton of archetypes, but they’re usually a foil or an opposite to the leader, and can be either the most supportive of the leader or always butting heads with them.

Incidentally, do you know what a lancer is? Like, the actual word, not the literary term? Well, it’s a warrior who uses lances. Or as you may know them, spears.

To no one’s surprise, the Lancer is Spear Guy. He’s the closest to Fuuta, as can be inferred from them always standing close and Fuuta looking to him after his big victory in the second battle. The fact he uses a lance as a weapon is a possible indication that we really are going for the Five Man Band trope here, because it makes him literally a Lancer.

Incidentally, this also makes him pretty easy to identify in terms of user icon. He's Poison (the skull icon), Rumerie.

In case you're not aware, the name Rumerie appears intertwined with "pazuzu" in Backdraft (gonna ask you to look it up yourself because I've reached the 30 image limit), implying a particularly deep connection between the two. And although the username changes like all others, the fact the very first shot of Bring it On contains Poison being referred to as "rumerie", it's safe to say they're the same. Additionally, check out what rumerie is saying. (Translation by rochisama here, it's a bit difficult to follow but it's a really good resource! As a warning, I might get some of these messages wrong because my critical lack of Japanese knowledge hinders how well I can actually check who is saying what)

[Poison] るめりえ＠D_T @/RUMERIE_... Know any good games?

(Notes: るめりえ is just "Ru me rie")

And shortly after:

Indeed, a guy in the arcade flashes green, presumably Rumerie. Note how he's in the center, as if he is the "leader" in Fuuta's absence, in case you needed any more connections to the Lancer archetype. You'll also notice he and the blue guy next to him have faces, which in Milgram signifies importance. I believe these three are all part of the Five Man Band. Why is there one missing? I'll get there.

Additionally, note how Rumerie wears a watch on his right hand. This is important because it lets us know exactly which can of paint in Backdraft belongs to him. In the scene where Killcheroy is attacked directly, we see a hand with a watch holding the blue spray paint can.

(The bottom left image is to show that the blue looks lighter than it really is in the upfront shots. When the lighting shifts a bit, it's more clear that this is specifically Rumerie's darker blue. The rest of the graffiti is the same, so Rumerie is the splotch at the bottom right.

And in the Killcheroy attack you can clearly see the difference between the two blues. The lighter one is even lighter than what it looks like in the other shots. And yes, the pattern's different, I'll get there)

So Rumerie has blue spray paint, which unfortunately means there's no clear connection between the colors in Bring it On and Backdraft.

Still, there's something interesting to note. Everyone in the Five Man Band has a particular graffiti pattern they stick to in the first two campaigns and at the start of the Killcheroy attack. For Rumerie, this is a big splotch with two small trails leaking down.

Why is this important... for me at least? Because the same patterns can be observed in the red paint over the Guilty prisoners in the section of the video dedicated to them.

And can you guess which one got Rumerie's?

Fuuta. The way I interpret this, it means Rumerie was particularly important in the reason Fuuta ended up with a Guilty verdict.

Why? Well, I believe Rumerie is the person who originally got Fuuta into cancel culture. Notice how the last message before Fuuta joins in on the Ice Gorilla attack is Poison's, and how Spear Guy fights in the frontlines of that battle, combined with what I said before, that Fuuta didn't put up a wanted poster for that battle.

("Frontline" is admittedly debatable)

[Poison] み @/MiMiMiMi.... You can only get away with stuff like this when you’re a primary school kid~

[Fuuta] Storm Pazuzu @/pazuzu_soccer... Ahhhh, this is the end for you huh

(Note: み is "mi" and means either fruit according to Google translate, or what I think makes more sense, "hot water", as in, Ice Gorilla is in hot water).

(Also note: I find it interesting that Rumerie here seems more forgiving of middle schoolers than at the end, when we know he was one of the people who attacked Killcheroy. I think it may be trying to show that everyone in the group got worse, not just Fuuta).

So, Rumerie caused Fuuta to cause Killcheroy's death by getting him into the whole cyberbullying thing. We can also see him encouraging him later on, when Fuuta takes a photo of the sexual harasser.

[Poison] 恐縮です @/i_am_sorr... I’m amazed you were able to get a photo

(Notes: 恐縮です translates to "I'm afraid." I... don't have a single clue why the hell this is like this, I'm just gonna ignore it)

The final thing to note is that Rumerie's graffiti pattern is different in the post-spraying scene of Killcheroy I showed earlier. Instead, Green Paint takes Rumerie's pattern, which is incidentally the one on Fuuta's Guilty thingy. More on that later.

As to why Rumerie's pattern changes in the first place, it's possible that's trying to imply the final attack on Killcheroy was much, much different from the others, possibly more vicious. Which we know is likely true, so I think it works.

Anyways, other messages he sends (I'll skip the icon since you know it's Poison). To Ice Gorilla:

NETANASHI@DT @/NETANATASHI_darkT You’re gonna die a really dumb death

どくろっち @/DOKI_DOKI_52 You’re never gonna be able to live this down www it was a good life while it lasted www

(Notes: "Netana tashi" appears to mean something like "added information," fitting the idea of cyberattacks. darkT and therefore DT is likely a reference to the Dark Triad, which seems to be Fuuta's "guild" displayed right next to his level.

どくろっち might mean "mole cricket" (???), and doki doki is an onomatopoeia for the beating of the heart. Take that as you will.

Rumerie comes off as quite aggressive in these messages, as you can probably tell. "www" is the way Japanese people write laughter, equivalent to "hahaha" in English)

He also writes another message during the second "battle."

るめりえ＠D_T @/RUMERIE_ What a fucking pig, that’s just gross wwww

(Notes: The name Rumerie returns, if you were somehow still wondering who this is. It's the exact same username as before, funnily enough. Also has D_T for the Dark Triad)

The Heart - White Robe Wizard

The Heart is the conflict solver of the group. They are usually the most emotional and expressive member, and is often a healer or otherwise a magic user, or specializes in some combat niche like archery.

Also, if your Five Man Band has a token girl, this is most likely the token girl.

(Wow this collage sucks. Tumblr 30 image limit my arch-nemesis)

Listen, I don't usually like to assume character's gender merely by appearance, but we know less than zero about this people, so I'm gonna have to bend my principles a bit. This wizard is the most femenine looking of the Five Man Band, so I hope you forgive me for assuming both that she is a girl, and that she is the only girl of the group.

Regardless, there are other reasons to assume she's the Heart. Mainly, she seems to be by far the most expressive of the group, being the only one to show any emotion in the lead-up to the Killcheroy battle. The white of her robe may represent purity of heart, which doesn't fit anyone in this group, but would fit the Heart better than other archetypes. There are arguments for her being the Smart Guy, but I think Heart works a tiny bit better.

Then we get to icon, and I'm comfortable in saying she's the Galaxy. From the messages related to the second "battle."

(Quality's trash but I'm trying)

[Galaxy] ♡MANA♡ @/inoue_mna... Mr Inoue……? That’s scary……

(Notes: mna is likely just short for mana. No I don't know why she shares a last name with the asshole professor)

Even ignoring that galaxies are usually associated with mysticism and magic (mostly because I'm not even sure that is a galaxy), this user takes the name "♡MANA♡". As in, the thing wizards use surrounded by two hearts. Additionally, the message does sorta feel like it fits her more than other characters, I guess? I mean, it's perfectly fine for anyone to express discomfort and fear at seeing sexual harrassment, but this is a toxic Twitter community, I doubt the boys here want to express any """weakness""" as reasonable as it may be. Do you understand what I'm saying?

You could argue this should maybe go to the Purple Robe Wizard instead, but consider this other message from the same "battle."

[Galaxy] AAA@DT @/55552G4r6ggc... Has he got no shame!!! Go to hell!!! That’s so gross!!!

(Note: The 5s might be Ss. No I have no idea what the fuck that handle is)

Apart from shouting, the name has "DT" in it, for Dark Triad. There are only four icons which ever appear related to it, and since Fuuta's isn't one of them, it could be presumed that the four which have DT are the members of the Five Man Band.

Then, look at this exchange, from the batch at the start as Fuuta is walking down the street.

[Fuuta] Storm Pazuzu @/pazuzu_soccer... A L L M Y C L A S S E S A R E S O D U L L . W A S T E O F M Y S C H O O L F E E S

[Fuuta] Storm Pazuzu @/pazuzu_soccer... Everyone else there is an idiot so it’s boring

[Galaxy] YU-TA @/YUTA_199... Let’s go to the arcade then!!!!

[Fuuta] Storm Pazuzu @/pazuzu_soccer... The people in charge here are shit. I could do a much better job

(Notes: Yuta is primarily a boy's name, which sorta contradicts the thing I said about this being a girl. However, this can be easily solved by assuming she's transfem and in the closet.

That's mostly a joke, but it is a possibility, I just don't know why we're giving so much characterization to a side-side-side character you feel? The more likely explanation is that while in Japan Yuta is a boy's name, there's also a version for girls which derives from Hebrew, and is also just Yuta. Given we've already seen characters with odd names for their gender (Haruka), I don't think it's a stretch to say this is such a case.

Anyways this might imply we know the full name of this wizard, that being Inoue Yuta. Interesting)

The main takeaway her is that Galaxy did want to go to the arcade like the other members of the Five Man Band, but probably didn't since Fuuta appears to have turned her down.

(... Why did he do that, actually? He went to the arcade anyways...

Though I guess she does look at him very enthusiastically in that second post battle scene... and the Heart is often the love interest of the Leader...

CRACK THEORY: White Robe Wizard has a crush on Fuuta, and he doesn't reciprocate)

So, if Galaxy wanted to go to the arcade, we can maybe assume they're part of the Five Man Band. In fact, we specifically know they're the only one who wasn't at the arcade, which lets us completely narrow down which of the spray paint cans belongs to them.

Yep. In case you missed the spoiler with the color I've been using for her, she has the yellow paint can. Not only does her right hand itself look slightly different than the others, it also has a ring none of the people at the arcade had (debatable on orange guy ig but I think we would see it if he had it). Since this paint can is part of the Five Man Band, we can assume it's the missing member's, therefore Galaxy's, therefore White Robe Wizard's.

The pattern which corresponds to them is a thick, horizontal bar, which shows up over Mahiru in the Guilty prisoners section. Certainly fits with her being the Heart (and having an unrequited crush on Fuuta). The pattern changes in the Killcheroy post-spraying sequence, again possibly because that attack was expressely different.

Again remember the colors are a bit off in the front-facing shots.

(By the way; Rumerie's altered patterned after the Killcheroy thing may look extremely similar to this thick straight line pattern, but it's not quite the same. This pattern has two small trails going down, Rumerie's has four and the bar is longer)

(You could argue it's still meant to be the same thing, but I think they're different enough that I don't have to find a way to relate them)

Here are the other Galaxy messages. The only ones I haven't talked about are in the Ice Gorilla fight.

[]足 @/speed☆star Looking this I can really feel how terrifying ( ) SNS can be lmao

(Notes: We can't see the first symbol of the username, and since 足 is "feet" apparently, I don't think we can know what that is. The parenthesis are empty in the video too. SNS is Social Networking System, so social media. Fits the "That's scary" MANA message)

(…）@/NAGARERUYOURE_UfU You’ve ruined this store’s business, I hope you were charged a lot for your idiocy

(Notes: I think this is the right message? It's really hard to know which message is which in the translation I'm using. In any case, it sorta fits. Putting that handle into Google translate gives me "flow less" or "streamlined", but I'm not sure how much sense that makes)

The Smart Guy - Cloak Dude

The Smart Guy is smart. That's their thing. Usually some flavor of quirky, but the main thing is they're clever, and they have a good head on their shoulders. They're intelligent and sharp-witted, and- okay I'll stop with the synonyms. For combat, they're usually not in the frontlines. Usually they're mages in fantasy settings, but archers and other long ranged combatants aren't out of the question.

This one, frankly, is almost entirely through process of elimination.

Cloak Dude has the dubious honor of being the only one apart from Spear Guy and Fuuta to show up on all three post-battle cutscenes. He seems to be an archer.

As I said, saying he’s the Smart Guy is more process of elimination than anything else. Shield Man sorta has to be the Big Guy, so we’re left with Smart Guy for Cloak Dude.

Thankfully, I think Identifying him in the icons isn't too difficult. Remember when I said he's the only one to show up on all three post-battle scenes? As if he's slightly more important than the Heart and the Big Guy? Well, there very well may be an icon which fits both that and the Smart Guy archetype. Water Drop, and therefore the Orange Arcade Guy.

Not only do they share the first message shot with Rumerie, check out what they say.

[Water Drop] 流＠しずくと読みます @/D_TTTT... School work has really been a pain lately… I don’t want to type another word

(Notes: 流 means style. しずくと読みます apparently means something like "I read it like drop [water]" which I guess work with the icon)

Note the @/D_TTTT Dark Triad handle. So, they're tired from school work? That means they're doing their school work to some extent, and academic diligence is usually associated with the Smart Guy archetype. Other messages keep up this theme. In the Ice Gorilla battle:

[Water Drop]（…）@/drop_[...]... There’s a limit to what sort of things you should do. How are you gonna live the rest of your life after this?

And in the second battle.

[Water Drop] io @/io_dog_very... Sexual harassment is pretty much the worst thing a person can do. How are you gonna explain this???

(Notes: "io" appears to mean "say it")

Their style of speaking is quite articulate, using longer sentences than other icons and with a more serious tone. No use of www either. The one counterexample is this:

[Water Drop]（…）@/[...] You’re wasting everyone’s time, idiot

But I still think it sorta fits. There is also one message from the second battle I don't have the translation of, but it also doesn't include www so.

Why is this important? Well, it's not. But more articulate speech, while not an actual indication of intelligence in reality, is a common way to communicate a character is smart in fiction.

Their final message is particularly interesting. It's one of the only messages we have in relation to Killcheroy.

QRT [Fuuta] Storm Pazuzu @/pazuzu_soc... I think I’ve got all her details now. Based on her previous tweets I’ve worked out her school. The fact she lives so close is hilarious lol

[Water Drop] Judgement☨Onizuka @/MONSTER_BUZZ... You’re the worst offender of all

(Notes: ☨ is the Cross of Lorraine, a symbol often associated to Joan of Arc. I guess you can connect the idea of a hero being later burnt at the stake for heresy to Fuuta's story)

Water Drop, despite the fact they do attack Killcheroy themselves (more on that in a moment), are condemning Fuuta for doing exactly that. They're hypochritical, but they're trying to claim a moral high ground by distancing themselves from Killcheroy's death. Again gives me vibes of someone trying to present themselves as smarter and more level-headed than they really are, but it's hard for me to explain why that is. Do you get the vibes too? I hope so.

Anyways, graffiti. They can be either the pink or the orange paint, but I think Orange Paint fits the best. Their graffiti pattern is a thin line which vaguely looks like an arrow to my completely unhinged mind, and it's the one associated with Amane, who is not necessarily smarter than the other guiltied, but she is very diligent in her studies as implied by several Timelines conversations. Smart Guy thing again.

The other thing is that their color can't be seen in the shot right before Killcheroy's final appearance, but it can be seen in the initial "attack", and we can see his hand attacking Killcheroy later. I believe this is representing what I said before; although Water Drop attacked Killcheroy like everyone else, they later tried to distance themselves from the fact, they "erased their paint."

(The angle on the Amane thing is slightly different, but I doubt that matters)

(The latter images are to show that yes, Orange Paint did attack Killcheroy. The can may look more red because of the lighting, but as you can see on the example to the side, the orange paint can does look almost red anyways)

Now, there is one more thing to say about the missing orange at the end there. And that is the gray-ish paint to the bottom left. What's interesting is that while it follows the Heart's pattern, it doesn't correlate with any of the colors we see actually attacking Killcheroy.

So... do you wanna go insane with me for a moment?

What if that is the orange paint, but they painted over it with gray/lilac to distance themselves from the attack as stated previously? The reason it looks like the Heart's pattern is because he's trying to appear more conscientious of others' feelings than he really is. Of course, that is deranged even for my standards, but it is an explanation.

Anyways, not much more to say about this guy, since I already talked about all his messages in Bring it On.

The Big Guy - Shield Man

The Big Guy is the muscle of the group. Generally physically big, though it can also be metaphorical. Their exact personality can vary quite a bit, but the most common trait is loyalty and protectiveness over the group. Sometimes can be quite an idiot, himbo style, but not always.

And if we're talking big and protective, there is someone who perfectly fits the trope.

Protective? Man has a shield. Physically big? The biggest of the group bar maybe Spear Guy. And just look at how he stands in that post-battle two scene! My guy has zero thoughts in that head of his. I think the archetype fits him perfectly.

Anyways, if you've been paying attention, I said before the members of the Five Man Band could be identified by which icons ever appear with D_T on their username, so by this point we could narrow it down by elimination alone. The final member by this logic is Supernova, and I think it fits enough. It also has a deep blue background, therefore we're likely seeing Blue Arcade Guy here.

[Supernova] Avyxs@D_T @/Dark_Avyxs_T... Uni is so much fun! It can be a pain depending on your subjects but my friends and teachers are hilarious

Loyalty, check.

To be clear, there is absolutely an argument that he instead should be Thunderbolt, since that icon shows up right before we cut to the first sidewalk scene, pairing it with Rumerie and Water Drop; and speaks twice during the second cancelation, the same as Rumerie, Galaxy and Water Drop. Or Rock even, some of their lines and the icon itself point to the trope's personalities. However, I personally think the D_T connection is a bit more interesting, which is why I'm going with Supernova for him. It's not like this matters much anyways.

Process of elimination also assigns him the Pink Paint/Purple Paint Can, who has a zigzaggy pattern which trails off with a weird blob at the end. Mikoto gets this one... sort of. It looks like it's flipped and rotated around a bit, but it's still a zigzag pattern which trails off with a weird blob at the end. I think it's close enough, and I also think it makes sense. Mikoto is canonically the strongest physically out of the Guilty characters. I believe there was a ranking of arm wrestling strength that put him only below Kotoko and Kazui. Additionally, the alter who killed likely did it to protect the system, which works with the protectiveness of Shield Man.

(It sure was convenient four people got guiltied in the first trial huh)

The pattern also changes pre-Killcheroy appearance, you've heard why before, the attack was different.

... Yeah maybe I'm reading too much into the repeating patterns, maybe they're just like that to make things easier on the artists, but at this point I'm in too deep to back out.

The other Supernova messages are the following. In the Ice Gorilla fight:

実家傷兵 @/super_power... He’s shut in www is the fridge your new house now ww

(Notes: 実家傷兵 means either "family wounded soldier", "soldiers garrisoned at home by their parents", or... "soldiers stationed to protect a country's territory during World War II." I assume it's the first two things)

(…）@/[...] Just stay in your beloved freezer forever wwwwwwwww

(Notes: He wrote the same message twice. Really not beating the "not particularly sharp-witted" allegations with this one)

(…）@/lightning_player Definitely not buying any ice cream there

(Notes: What the fuck did Ice Gorilla do anyways? Lock themselves in a freezer full of ice cream? I'm so confused)

There is also an obscured message where Supernova has the handle @/NaGGrYjYP2Fe or something like that. I am not gonna even try to decipher what the fuck's going on there.

Finaly, on the second cancelation.

毒門第一号 @/warokeru_080... Oof lmao she looks like she’s gonna be sick

(Notes: Focusing on the victim more than the attacker does vaguely fit Shield Man. 毒門第一号 is "poison gate number 1." No comment. "Warokeru" apparently means "meltdown." Also no comment)

The Sixth Ranger - ???

The Sixth Ranger refers to a sixth character who joins the Band during the story rather than at the start. Where they come from is very variable, but sometimes it's a reformed villain of some kind.

Funnily enough, this trope is replicated in Backdraft too. Let's circle back to the big question. Who is the extra, green paint can in the Killcheroy attack?

They paint over the part Pink Paint usually takes, and later we see their paint with the Rumerie and Guilty Fuuta pattern. Additionally, they're the only one in these cases to paint over the small name graffiti, which combined with the fact they could potentially be closely linked to Fuuta's Guilty verdict, could imply they're the ones who killed Killcheroy. Because as many know, Fuuta's victim in the Undercover kill shot has both shoes on, unlike Mahiru and Kazui's victims who have a shoe missing to represent their suicide. And this could imply Killcheroy was outright murdered by someone else, though obviously not Fuuta himself.

If that's true, given how odd this Green Paint person is, I would assume that's the person who killed Killcheroy. Let's run through the other Bring it On BG characters to see if we can narrow down a suspect. I will skip over anyone we see only in the Ice Gorilla battle, because most of them are never seen again.

The Blue Haired Soldiers

These two show up quire a bit, though weirdly, the soldier with lighter hair doesn't show up in the Ice Gorilla battle itself nor the post-second battle scene. But he's still seen in the post-first fight battle scene and in the lead-up to the second fight. Still, this odd pattern could maybe mean he's the killer? He didn't participate in the strictly online battles, but possibly yes in the Killcheroy one? I'm not sure, I think there's a better candidate so.

One reason I don't think Light Blue Haired Soldier is the killer is because I would assume he's Rock, since his hair vaguely fits the color. Additionally, his armor looks very similar to Shield Man's (see: neck guard thing), which could imply they're the same "class." That would make him a Tank probably, who is usually associated more with defense even if they have good offensive capabilities. Rocks are also usually associated with strong defense, a claim I'm basing practically entirely on Pokemon typing philosophy lol.

Aside from him, Dark Blue Haired Soldier would probably be Thunderbolt based on the fact it's sorta the only one left, and again, color fits.

Here are their messages. Sidewalk scene:

[Thunderbolt] キマ注意＠ダークトラ… @/K_I_M_... Nothing’s happened lately, it’s boring

[Rock] まっすMAN（強化中）@/MusclePu... …wait, it’s Monday? Which means uni today??? I haven’t… done my homework…

(Notes: As I said, Rock shares similarities to the "Dumb Big Guy" archetype. Again, same class.

キマ注意 means "be careful" or "pay attention", and the @/ダークトラ is @/Dark Tiger. Thunderbolt is very aggressive, so the username sorta fits.

まっす can mean a few different things, I'm not sure what the best translation is. 強化中 means "currently being strengthened", so again, fits the Tank role)

Ice Gorilla battle:

[Rock] 問答 @/s... Just get out already

[Rock] 小箱の〇 @/[...] We won’t let you get off lightly for this＾＾

[Thunderbolt] サンデー～（…）@/[...]_1004 The food looks so good wwwww you should just [...] and die

[Rock] 〇石〇じ @/[...]TAKAI As far as learning experiences go this one sure cost a lot. What you did really was a huge waste. Thanks for all your hard work. Here’s hoping you do better in your next life.

(Notes: Thunderbolt is very aggressive, as you can see. His armor is similar to Fuuta's, so likely a Warrior class, which makes sense.

問答 means Q&A basically. Huh. 小箱の〇 is missing a character, but what we have appears to translate to "small box." 〇石〇じ also has characters which haven't been recognized.

サンデー～ means Sunday～)

Second battle (how long until my readers notice I don't remember the name of the second guy-):

[Thunderbolt] 自由（ちきゅうじん）@/not_jiyuun... My uni is done for now wwww

[Thunderbolt] kakikukeko@ド @/DONK... What an idiot, you should just (…) already

[Rock] まっすMAN（強化中）@/MusclePu... Super gross, thanks for exposing a lowlife sexual harasser

(Notes: Interestingly, Rock takes their original username again. Thunderbolt is once again a dick, caring more about his uni being "done" than the victim.

自由 means freedom, which I guess fits the tweet? Interestingly, though, jiyuun is also freedom, so "freedom @/not_freedom"? What is this fucking naming scheme.

ちきゅうじん means earthling (?). I couldn't find something solid for kakikukeko or ド but "DONK" is funny)

Purple Robe Wizard

If you're like me, you've seen me mention this person and immediately asked "is that Killcheroy." But no, since we see them in the lead-up to the Killcheroy battle in Bring it On, as we see every other character mentioned here. Additionally, I believe they might be the one responsible for the big attack which takes away like half of Killcheroy's life bar, but not the one who kills her, as Killcheroy still has health after that attack disappears.

If we do assume that attack is theirs (because there's no indication of who else is in the Killcheroy fight otherwise), then they have to be represented by one of the paint cans attacking Killcheroy at the end of Backdraft. Since they also attack Ice Gorilla, they are unlikely to be Green Paint, and therefore are most likely Light Blue Paint.

No recognizable pattern there.

Unfortunately, we have an issue. We've run out of user icons, which, uh...

You could maybe argue they share an icon with someone else? Or something? Or maybe they exclusively send DMs so Fuuta can't see their harrassment. I hope this isn't too big of an issue.

So, here's the thing. I don't think any of these three characters, the blue haired soldiers and the purple robe wizard, are Green Paint. Because they lack one critical feature: being the "Sixth Ranger." The Green Paint isn't notable just because it appears, it's notable because it appears alongside the Five Man Band. In particular, it has a penchant for replacing Five Man Band members. It paints over Pink Paint when the gang first attacks Killcheroy, it steals Rumerie's pattern in the aftermath shot, and it shows up when Orange Paint doesn't in said aftermath shot. It doesn't really matter who they replace, they have a pattern of replacing someone.

And wouldn't you know, there is a character that sorta fits that in Bring it On. The only character who is never seen attacking Ice Gorilla, neither in the shot of the battle itself or the aftermath.

The Black Knight

I'm calling them that because their armor is darker than everyone else's and I think they killed Killcheroy lol.

Do you see an interesting pattern here? They don't show up in the first battle at all (and I cannot stress enough, it’s the only character that doesn’t), but after the second battle, they're always seen with the Five Man Band minus the Heart. As if they replaced her, in the same way Green Paint usually replaces a member of the Five Man Band.

And you could argue it should be the other way around, that White Robe Wizard replaced the Black Knight, except White Robe Wizard shows up in the Ice Gorilla battle while Black Knight doesn't, so if someone's Green Paint of the two, it would have to be Black Knight.

But hold on, you may say. Black Knight shows up in the second battle, they can't be Green Paint!

Except for one detail. Yes, Black Knight is in the post-Rypirotes (finally looked up the name) fight scene, but there's one person in that post-battle scene who didn't fight Rypirotes. Check out the minimaps:

(I'm ignoring the distorted minimap because, well, it's distorted, and it's before the Killcheroy battle, not during)

The blue triangle is Fuuta, the red dot is the "enemy," so the green dots are the other people in the battle.

The Ice Gorilla battle minimap shows 11 green dots, which perfectly fits the amount of people on screen there. The Killcheroy battle shows 6 green dots, which perfectly fits the amount of paint cans we see attack Killcheroy in Backdraft.

And yet, there are seven people in the post-Rypirotes battle scene, but only six dots in the minimap. Which means one person in that post-battle scene didn't fight.

Obviously, it's impossible to know who didn't fight. All this does is open the possibility that the one who didn't fight there is Black Knight.

But here's the thing. Everyone else in the post-Pyrites battle scene is displayed in the Ice Gorilla minimap. The only other recurring character who Green Paint could be, then, is Light Blue Haired Soldier. But as stated before, they're never seen as part of the Five Man Band, so I find it unlikely this is the case. Also because color-scheme wise they fit Rock, and Rock does "attack" both Ice Gorilla and Rypirotes, just not at the same time as the time we see the minimaps I guess.

So there’s the thing. Because Black Knight didn’t fight either Ice Gorilla or Rypirotes, we don’t have an user icon for them, which makes it all the more suspicious that they show up in the lead up to the Killcheroy battle. I guess the blue haired soldiers didn’t attack her for some reason, since there’s only six paint cans.

And then there's the class thing. You remember how I said Light Blue Haired Soldier fits with Rock because he seems to be a Tank by armor? Well, Black Knight wears the same armor as Fuuta and Thunderbolt, they're a Warrior. What could this mean? Well, if Fuuta is the guy that doxxed Killcheroy, and Thunderbolt is one of the most aggressive "attackers" as seen by their comments, we can infer Warriors may represent particularly dangerous or vicious characters. Keep in mind these aren't actually videogame classes but they're metaphorical. Thus, it would fit Killcheroy's killer to be a Warrior.

... Ok, to be fair a lot of this is based on like a hundred different assumptions stacked on top of each other like a house of cards, I feel like I'm reading too much into too many things and I'm pulling conclusions out of my ass, but I think these interpretations are at least interesting enough to share, which is why I'm sharing my brainrot with you all. You can probably find several thousands of holes here if you think critically, but you know. Vote Black Knight Guilty (wait that’s not-)

Conclusion

I am never beating the insanity allegations.

I do think the Black Knight is probably the one who killed Killcheroy, but knowing that, and everything else I said in this post, is more for curiosity's sake than anything else. This doesn't really add much to Fuuta's character or anything, but eh. I enjoyed going crazy over these side-side-side characters, and I hope you enjoyed my ramblings as well.

If you actually managed to read all that, then you deserve a Five Man Band all for you! Which role do you think you fit best? You don't have to answer that this isn't YT. Take care!

[chaifootsteps]

I get mad thinking about Vivziepop’s questionable writing or dialogue choices sometimes—and then I just feel sad after because I really wish I could see her shows as something naunced and worthy of thoughtful discussion. I wish I could love these shows wholeheartedly like I use to, and its only the attachment I still hold for her works that keep me sticking around, but man, I feel so disheartened sometimes that I wish I could just let it go and move on already, but its hard.

I don’t see either of her shows being things that are going to be remembered as super amazing or have a fandom passionate about the work like 10 years down the line. I can’t look at her characters and think about their possible motivations or analyze them deeply based on interaction, or just general presence in the story, because there is no depth greater than a pond. With her antagonists she writes them in such a particular way that they serve less as actual characters and more as glorified plot devices and nothing more, and with her protagonists she leaves them as overdeveloped or underdeveloped at the same time.

What am I suppose to take when watching her shows? With Helluva Boss, I can’t tell what I’m suppose to gleam from it. Is the story about relationships and focuses on character interaction and characters more than the plot itself? Its not doing that great of a job at that. Theres no changes in character dynamics, characters dont really interact with one another meaningfully most of the time, and relationships arent explored enough outside of already established ones. Is it about fighting against a system that is rigged against you and standing up against the ones in power? No, it isn’t, because the opression our main characters face isnt relevant enough in the story outside of the ocassional reminder that, yes, Imps are the lowest in the system, yes, imps can be quite literally sold as property and serve as servants and the working force to the ones in power, and, yes, imps face discrimination. (Can you tell the supremacist line pissed me off yet.)

I.M.P—who are all apart of marginalized species in hell—do not talk about these issues they face. Crimson is literally a mafia boss in Greed and he doesn’t seem to have any problems being a imp in power despite the demons working under him being higher in status than he himself is. (Minus the money problems because it doesnt seem actually relevant to anything and isnt brought up afterwards) Why have our main characters be apart of the lower class at all if it isnt actually important to the show. By the end of this show, the hierachy isnt going to change because status quo is god, and the worst case scenario possible is that Blitz gets with Stolas and becomes a prince and lives a life where the same species he’s apart of literally serves under him.

And speaking of status quo, what on earth is season 2 of Hazbin going to even be about if season 1 ends in a literal war between Heaven and Hell? You don’t just change the status quo that drasitically in one season—unless if Hell and Heaven were at war since the start? But it doesnt seem that way. Would Season 2 focus on redemption—but if that’s the case, why make season 1 the war between hell and heaven when season 2 would be more fitted for it instead?

I never thought these shows would be on ‘Breaking Bad’ tier levels of writing, but I thought they were going to at least be something I could walk away from with a clear understanding of what message it wants to tell and how I can interpret it as part of an auidence, but maybe I was wrong to think the stories Medrano writes have something wonderfully insightful to give, and it really hurts to think about.

I know how you feel, Anon. A shame we can't all have just one day to look into the good timeline where Viv's the writer and person we hoped she would be, and these shows are everything we were looking forward to.

[sunshines-child]

*spins dramatically in chair* god im so tired. sunny ur children have taken over my prefrontal cortex its not funny anymore.

partner in crime - madilyn mei: screams luc to me thinking of his little dove, but also from theos angsty teen perspective. the song fits them both almost like a back and forth conversation (i might make a post actually this is genius lmao). actually now that i think of it it fits u too lol (it has that vintage circus vibe if u will)

why good people become monsters: video essay of sorts exploring the lucifer effect (nuff said lol), but i recommend reading the comments for more insight and perspective. the art and presentation is slightly unsettling and i love it.

random quotes i from the top of my desktop notes: (long read sorry)

"he had all his mother's vivid imagination and passionate love of beauty. Frost of winter, invitation of spring, dream of summer and glamour of autumn, all meant much to Walter." - rainbow valley, l.m montgomery

-> luc and mercy change my mind (u cant hehe)

He said: “Only God can Judge a monster like that… I just set up the appointment”

-> my boi armund snaps (and snaps someones neck oop-)

“hell is empty, all the devils are here” - the tempest, shakespeare

-> this is definately written somewhere on altis lol

… as John [Lennon] told Rolling Stone magazine in 1970, “When it gets down to it, when you’re drowning, you don’t say, ‘I would be incredibly pleased if someone would have the foresight to notice me drowning and come and help me,’ you just scream.”

-> theo fighting his demons and losing :') eventually leading to some fall out with daddy dearest.

"It brings me so much joy to watch someone else get staggered by the full range of human degeneracy. We really do be wildin." - a yt comment lol

->i like to think that while both luc and altis kill in cold blood, for titi its another day job or whatever but for luc he thinks a lot about life and death and morality and corruption and thats what leads him to insanity later on.

classic case of living long enough to see urself as the villain but also a favourite trope of mine where people join the dark side for the cookies out of deep empathy for the wronged victims as opposed to say the violence and injustices they themselves may have experienced.

but also post armunds death luc lets all hell loose because how *dare* anyone lay a finger on his beloved boy?! the angst potential my dear is frankly off the charts and i love them all so much it hurts

anyhows this is for fun & i wanted to share some pebbles with ya

i couldnt resist >:D

I have not a single regret taking over your prefrontal cortex. ITS MINE NOW MWAHAHHAHAHAHA Partners in Crime by Madilyn Mei recognition YAYYYYYYY it’s so fit for their characters I’m in tears RAAAAAAAAAAAA Im not changing your mind you’re cooking. “he had all his mother's vivid imagination and passionate love of beauty. Frost of winter, invitation of spring, dream of summer and glamour of autumn, all meant much to Walter." You’re hurting me it’s so fucking beautiful oh my poor heart and soul he is the very bring of his mother, those calloused hands still flying, desperate to cling onto Mercy’s hands, still desperate to cling upon the hands of his mother who rested his head upon her breast. Armund doesn’t exactly ever…snap. His rage is there, and everyone knows it’s there. He’s the only one getting rid of his rage instead of bottling it down. He’s constantly shrouded by rage. “hell is empty the devils are here” is my knew favorite quote. I’m one of the devils LMAO also yes it is very much inked on Altis (probably his hip) Luc and Altis kill like all hell. And you’re very right on what they feel. Altis feels nothing. It’s just another thing he has to do. No rush, no nothing. He’s just… doing it. Luc in the other hand feels everything. Even when it’s someone he is killing more as a task, he’ll feel a rush of everything, all the thoughts, everything. He knows, oh he knows the mortality of everything, including his own soul. (Also he’s constantly bringing the edge of “what if I just died”. It’s. It’s worrying.) Luc. Luc BREAKS when Armund dies. He loves his son, but in the end there’s no tru nurture still left in it. His son turns away from him, and he draws back his hand and cries. And his little angel, his Armind is there, to give him a true taste of joy despite the life all of them live. And what happens to man without joy?