#actually nevermind i refuse to acknowledge this as art

[suddenlymicah]

tried drawing from a how to draw anime book i think its the worst ive ever drawn anything god what the hell

[noharaaa]

𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃𝙋𝙪𝙣𝙠: 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘍𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (sneak peek)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Josephine Jameson! Fem!Spider-Ballerina OC!

Author’s Note: A glimpse of Jobie's first official meeting shown here. This is a draft version, so the actual material may alter from this but still have the same general idea once I release it.

This beautiful spider OC belongs to anon tagged below. Please check out their blog if you haven’t yet. They post a wonderful Jobie art.

⠀͓ ↷˚‧⁺ @qirarey123 ╰┄ི͙┈ 𖡼࿔

Enjoy Reading!

╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

The constant flow of self-doubts and criticisms that surged through Josephine's mind was unrelenting, refusing to allow her to find fulfilment in anything she did.

Whenever she tried to accomplish something, there was always a voice there to remind her of her mistakes, her shortcomings, her inadequacies.

Failure. Never good enough.

And so, once again, Josephine found herself sinking in a hopeless spiral of self-sabotage, drowning in a sea of her own negativity...

Why can’t I be perfect? Why can’t I be enough? Why do I even try? Why can’t I just….-

“You got some jacked-up footwear, innit, little miss?“

The unexpected remark quickly jolted the poor dancer out of her self-pitying thoughts, catching her completely off guard. She whirls her head around to face whomever had spoken, her brain still fogged up from everything that had just happened. She wasn't even sure if she'd heard correctly,

“My footwear…what?”

There you go. She has no idea what he had just said.

Despite the gloomy atmosphere, her eyes are drawn towards the man's exceptional stature. He's leaning right next to the doorway, arms and legs crossed as he gazes at her from a distance. His height is added by the impressive volume of his hair, creating an overall imposing aura. However, his appearance is nothing compared to the weight of her own troubles, which continue to press down on her.

Josephine is taken aback from the sudden approach, still slightly confused until she spots him eyeing her shoes. She follows his gaze, looking down to the soles of her feet.

Her pointe shoes are completely worn out.

She sighs, acknowledging their horrible condition yet again before looking back up at him.

She is so done.

“What, you’re not gonna respond with any zingers? Come on, have a bit of backbone, I don’t bite.” He smirked, “Well, at least I don’t bite hard anyway.”

Her head tilts slightly in uncertainty as she raises an eyebrow. His speech is happening so quickly that she begins to notice it. It was hard for her to understand nearly everything he said just now considering his heavy accent.

“I’m sorry…what???”

“I said I don’t bite. Do I actually need to slow down for you? Or would that hurt that spider-pride of yours?”

As it only takes her a few lengthy seconds to absorb his response to her head, she narrows her gaze once more, “What is that supposed to mean? And what does pride have to do with hearing?”

Perhaps this man was right about her... She'd been so consumed in her own thoughts and issues that she hadn't even realized that her shoes were practically falling apart. Now, as she gazes down at them in humiliation, she can't help but be caught off-guard by his boldness.

He leans back against the wall, shifting his footing slightly to get more comfortable as he replies,

“The joke. It just whizzed right over… nevermind. Listen, I don’t wanna get your little spider-brain all twisted like those shoes of yours. But, it looks like you’ve been stomping through a forest of thorns, bruv.”

A few seconds would pass as Josephine ponders what to say. It is hard to get a good read on him. He appears to be messing with her. Judging by the tone of his voice, she can sense that he’s trying to get a rise out of her.

She narrowed her eyes, annoyed at him once again for bringing it up. After a few short seconds of silence she spoke,

“What is it with you and my shoes? Like, who even cares?”

“I cares, Frenchie. You can't be runnin' away from a stinker like this with them ratty clown shoes. What, you gonna be scuttling off in one direction while your shoes take off in the other? Bloody hell mate..."

Josephine is now visibly irritated by his persistence, despite the faint feeling of amusement seeping through the cracks of her frustrations, "And it's not that big of a deal, I can literally just get a new pair of shoes, okay? ….Merde.”

Il se prend pour qui, cet Anglais?-

"Well, I figured a ballerina like yourself would at least pay more attention to her footwork! But in all seriousness, your shoes are so worn out, they look less like pointe shoes and more like point...less...shoes..."

Wow.

Her own laugh surprises her a little.

It happened so suddenly, he caught her off guard.

She looks down at them again and notices a few more details he hadn't mentioned. As it was, her shoes looked more like something you'd see at a dumpster dive than in a ballet studio. After a quick glance back up at the man. She was still kind of mad though, only because he made her laugh this time.

Her sudden reaction makes him smirk even more.

"You're supposed to be pissed, not laughing at my dumb jokes, Twinkle Toes."

She flashes a tiny grin, locking eyes with him once more as she states, “Well maybe your jokes are stupid enough that I cant get mad.”

"Good. I don't want you to get all upset. You’ve already got enough on your plate with those nasty shoes of yours."

Maybe she should focus on not stepping on anymore thorns.

╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

Let me know if you would like to be on the tag list!

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Newt Scamander Relationship Headcanons

If you're a witch/wizard:

I feel like you might know of each other if you went to Hogwarts together

If you're foreign you met because you work as a healer

He comes in one day, the cutiest cutie pie that you've ever seen

He's got a gnarly burn on his forearm that extends up onto his palm and burns are one of your specialities

He comes in, sets his brief case down right next to him, and keeps one hand on it the entire time that you're treating him

He refuses to look into your eyes

You catch him glancing at you though and on one such occasion his cheeks turn pink and the smallest smile graces his lips

One of the buckles on his case flies open and you jump

That's never happened before

Then this small, black, platypus-like creature squeezes itself through the seams of the case

You nearly pass out

"WHAT IS THAT?!"

"So sorry, that's uh, that's a niffler."

He scoops it up and quickly shuffles it back into the case.

As he's doing so a green stick figure emerges from his breast pocket

"This is Pickett." He says once he notices your eyes fixated on the bowtruckle

"What are these creatures?"

He begins to explain...

And then he can't stop

As you fix up the burn, with great difficulty as he begins to wave his hands about animatedly, he describes to all the magical creatures that he's studying

You're endlessly fascinated

The visit ends too quickly and he's hurrying on his way

He comes in again and again

He even requests to be treated by you

A friendship blossoms

Soon after he's wanting to take you to tea

Just a nice little date in a quiet cafe

Once, he lets you inside his case

It's perhaps one of the most magnificent things you've ever seen

You become one of his greatest blessings as you don't even charge him for visits

You're just happy to be with him

He's astonished with all the things you know

He comes in with strange wounds and you've treated each with such care and finesse

If you're a muggle:

You'll meet via the niffler

It literally jumps from his case and into your pocket, trying to snatch your watch

You're both just standing in line at a food stand or a cafe

You feel this weight fall into your pocket and something furry brushes against your wrist

You startle and look down to see an animal trying to cram it's chunky little body into your coat pocket

You freak

Luckily Newt is there to put the niffler away and apologize

He hands you your watch and keeps apologizing

"What is that?" You're trying to stay calm

"Nothing to worry about, really, I am so sorry about that."

And then he looks at you

Like really looks at you

He stares for quite some time before he realizes how awkward the situation is

The next time you meet is when you're at central park

You're sitting on a bench, reading a book

You feel a tugging sensation near your ankle

That same little creature is pulling on the buckle of your shoe

That same man appears, scolding the beast as he shoos it into a brief case

You notice that the brief case doesn't have a bottom

It just turns to darkness

"Good glory!"

By now he seems to have acknowledged your presence

"So sorry... Oh it's you again."

He staring again

"Sorry, your eyes are just-oh nevermind."

"Who are you?"

"Oh, my name is Newt Scamander."

"Hello, Mr. Scamander. Now that we've met twice, so you mind telling me what that animal is? I've never seen anything like that."

"I'm afraid I really can't tell you, it's-it's just a special creature of mine."

You go to close your book, your bookmark a simple sketch you'd made earlier

He sees it and his eyes light up

"Did you draw that?"

"I did, actually."

"Wow, that's really a remarkable drawing." He says

It's just a picture of a dog catching a ball

"You made it look so lively."

"Oh, it's just a quick sketch that I did."

"But it really is quite lovely. How long did it take you to get that good?"

And then the relationship takes off.

He plops down on the bench and listens intently as you tell him about your art and then your other interests

He tells you that he's a magizoologist but corrects himself to zoologist

Magi-zoologist

What is that?!

He asks if you would do commissions for your sketches

You tell him that it's always been a hobby and no one has ever asked for you to draw anythung

He sits still for a moment

Considering something

Then his hand digs into his breast pocket

And out comes a little green leaf-like creature

He calls it a bowtruckle

You're quite literally enchanted with it

You draw it out for him

You meet for a date later that week and things just flourish

General:

He gets back from long trips and will just drape himself over you

Maybe your on the couch or cooking something in the kitchen

He comes up and just leans his whole body on you

Keeps pictures of you all over his case

Just wants you near when he's away

His creature taking a liking to you pretty fast

Except for Pickett

He feels you'll take Newt away

Dougal likes to cling to your shoulder

The niffler likes your pockets (both for change and because they're comfortable

Newt enjoys sitting back on the sofa with, an arm around your, feet on the coffee table

You just talk

Talk about your day and his work

He really takes the stage when you ask about new creatures he's been studying

If you work at the ministry, you and Theseus are good friends

Depending on your department

You may try and help restrict the hunting of magical creatures

Newt appreciates this very much

You also help smooth things over when he gets into trouble

Queenie is always telling you how cute it is inside Newt's head

"I swear, every other thought is about you."

You talk to Bunty a lot

You'll help her out when Newt is busy

You don't go on dates very often

But you spend as much time together as possible

He is literally attached to your hip

Might stick his wand in your pocket instead of his because you're always so close

Is a huge fan of cuddling but doesn't know how to ask

Cheek and forehead kisses

Holding hands

I feel he likes herbal teas

Doesn't strike me as the person who is big on sweets but he might bring you one of Jacob's every now and then

Give him hugs

Give him kisses

He'll never complain

If you fall asleep before he does, he'll whisper about how much he loves you

Trusts you with his case, he knows you'd never do anything to put his creatures in danger

It's always so sweet when he gets back from helping someone and he steps off the train, or the boat, and he smiles so widely when he sees you standing there with his case

He'll hug you so tightly

Even though you're in public

Give a short kiss

And whisper "I love you" as he guides you away from the station

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for reading. If you'd like to request go ahead. If you just want to talk, feel free to message me. Stay safe and have a nice day. Love you!

-the author

[justalittleficsideblog]

Care for a dance?; Itadori Yuuji

Prompt: Satoru holds a sort of prom for students, you anxiously wait for Yuuji. But when he arrives, he says some things you’ve been waiting to hear forever.

pairing: Itadori Yuuji x fem!reader

genre: Fluff!

Word count: 1,583

This is my first ever fanfiction, I hope to get better in the future but I hope you all enjoy! <3 also, if you would like to make requests, feel free to do so!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You made your way across the dance floor, eyes glued to the entrance as you waited for that one pink-haired boy to walk through. 

You sighed heavily, leaving against the wall, drink in hand. 

Damn sorcerers and their dramatic antics

You chuckled beside yourself. It's not like you yourself were not a sorcerer, you were quite skilled in the cursed arts, in fact. However, in an attempt to give the tech students a sense of “normalcy” from other schools, Satoru decided to have the students set up their own mini prom. You were against the idea at first, alongside Medumi (although you weren't sure if he was actually listening to what Gojo had to say in the first place), but Itadori’s eyes practically glowed at the idea of a western-type dance. 

“Please y/n! Doesn’t it sound fun?? A dance and lights and music and--”

“Fine, yuuji,” you sighed as Satoru beamed in contempt. You quickly turned away from Itadori’s puppy eyes. But you couldn't just say no to him, and you weren’t quite sure why. 

Because you like him dumbass

“Oooh, so does this mean we get to see y/n in a dress for once?” a mouth appeared on the side of Itadori’s face, cutting off your train of thought.

Itadori slapped his own face, hard.

“Aww,” you teased. “Does Sakuna want to see some skin?”

Itadori blushed, but quickly slapped a hand over his arm as it spoke, “No, well of course, but it would be nice to see Yuji here get all flustered.”

“S-shut up!”

You laughed, as much as a threat Sakuna was, you had to admit he had his quirks. Itadori glanced toward Satoru in a silent plea to change the subject. The teacher complied, laying out the rules and dress code for the event.

“Hehe, have fun with this one kids, I'm off to do some sight-seeing.” and with that he turned and walked off.

“This is pathetic, why do I have to get wrapped up in this shit,” Megumi growled, also striding off toward the direction of his dorm. 

You heard a distinct whispering from behind you, which you assumed was most likely Sukuna saying something to Itadori. When you turned back around, said pink-haired boy made brief eye-contact with you before quickly looking away with his hand on his cheek.

---------

That interaction led you to where you were now, leaning against the wall alone in a dress that made you feel like suffocating. 

Well, you thought. At least I look good

You wondered what Itadori would be wearing, would he think you looked good? Would he even notice you? Or would he steer himself in the direction of a taller girl with a nicer ass? 

You sighed, shaking your head to get rid of the thoughts.

“It’s not like it matters anyway.”

“Oh? What doesn’t matter?” 

You choked on your drink as you turned to see Satoru looking ravishing as ever in a black suit, leaning over you with his drastic height.

“Oh- uh, … nothing in particular,” you swallowed thickly.

Gojo smirked,”Well if that’s the case… he should be here shortly by the way.”

You scowled at your teacher as he chuckled and dashed off while you heard expensive shoes click clack against the polished floor. Megumi and Itadori had arrived.

“Yo, y/n!” Itadori waved while bouncing excitedly. Megumi nodded in acknowledgement, giving you a once over before taking off towards where Satoru wandered off.  You had to admit, Yuuji looked….well, good. Really good. The dress shirt he wore fitted him perfectly, accenting his hair and eyes as he moved even in the slightest.

He cleaned up well.

Itadori came up to you, snack in hand, stopping in his tracks as he got a good glimpse of you. “You look, uh, well- you look really--”

“You look smokin’ y/n” Sakuna made yet another surprise appearance on Itadori’s hand.

“Ahh! Nevermind him, sorry I was just going to say--”

You Interrupted,  “So I don't look smokin’?”

His eyes widened and he took a step back, “N-no, I just think you look… pretty.”

You cackled, noise being drawn out by the music blaring and flashing lights decorating the space. “Relax, Yuji I was just teasing.”

His shoulders dropped somewhat, releasing the tight grip he had over his hand where Skuna’s smart-mouth was. His eyes glanced over your form, noticing how the dress fell over your frame.

“It sure turned out kinda nice, huh?” You asked, turning to face him head on.

“Yeah… the music is amazing too! I dont think ive heard this song before.”

“Really? It’s such an overplayed song in my opinion.”

Yuji’s face grimaced, “Ill be right back, hold on a second.” 

Your smile fell as he walked away, but quickly you became confused as he wandered up to the DJ, whispering something in his ear, looking back at you and smiling.

The pop-song had ended just as he made his way back to your side. Your stomach tingled as he approached, turning as he stood flush against your shoulder. 

“Hey y/n… uh,” he kicked his foot against the ground a second.

Wait… there's a slow song starting, did he-- no way, your eyes widened at the realization of what he had requested at the boothe. No freakin way--

“Do you wana dance?” he choked out, practically shouting so he could be heard above the speakers blasting soft notes across the stage. 

You stared at his outstretched hand in surprise, you thought your little crush had been completely one-sided. There was no way-

“y/n?” 

You snapped back into reality, he was asking for a dance, it didn't mean anything, right?

“Y-yeah, of course!” you stammered, tripping over your words.

Thank god it’s dark in here

He beamed, grabbing your hand and leading you out onto the dance floor. He hesitated a bit with his other hand, nervously laying it on your waist where there was a bit of fabric covering it. He seemed to choke back some words, opening his mouth and closing it promptly as your body was held flush against him.

Your face was red hot as you fell into place against him, linking your hands around his neck. Which felt surprisingly strong. 

“Uh… anything on my neck?” Yuuji glanced down, peering at you oddly. 

“O-oh, no nothing. Just lost in thought I guess.”

He smiled, which caused your chest and stomach to practically be set on fire at the sight of it. You needed to get your shit together.

“Hey,” he began. “You… look really pretty tonight. And, yeah I know I already said that, but like ya know… i'm glad you came.”

“Well,” you start, trailing your hand up his neck. “ I couldn’t disappoint Sukuna now could I?”

Yuuji huffed, obviously irritated at the mention of his crazed possessor. 

“Yeah … well it’s not like his compliment actually matters.”

You chuckled, admiring the way he looked down at you, swaying your bodies in perfect synchrony. You admired the features on his face, trailing down to the little freckles and marks underneath his eyes.

Damn, you bit your lip, he’s really attractive.

“O-oh?”

You froze. Ah shit, did you say that out loud?

Yuuji looked down at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted.

Thankfully, the slow song came to an end and you let go of him. But, Yuuji’s arms stayed locked in place, not letting you out of his grasp so easily. 

“You really think that?”

Your stomach churned, chest tightening in the realization that yeah, you said he was cute.

“W-well,” you stammered, looking everywhere but him. “I mean.. Maybe..?”

Finally letting go, you both walked back over to the dark corner where he found you.

“Do you wana go outside? It’s kinda stuffy in here..” You trailed off, still refusing to look him in the eye after your previous embarrassment.

He followed after you, grabbing the door for you and holding it open so you could pass through first. Glancing up, you noticed how beautiful it was outside. Moon casting a beautiful glow down on the both of you, you caught his eye.

“Listen, uh y/n.” He blushed, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head nervously. “I really want to get something off my chest..”

“Yeah?” You looked up at him, causing his own heart to skip a beat.

“I- I think I really like you. And, I don’t mean it in a friendly way… well obviously not in a creepy way, but; I just catch myself wanting to be near you, and I think about you all the time”

He glanced at you quickly before looking out ahead of him, your gaze burning into him.

“I… just really want to protect you and kiss you? Is that weird? God, that’s weird. You know what nevermind this was stupid. Listen, I need to go--”

You grabbed his hand before he would run away.

“Come here you big idiot.”

Mustering everything you had inside of yourself, you grabbed his cheeks and slammed your lips on top of his. At first he was frozen, his biggest fantasy finally coming to life. He eased into the kiss, hugging you closer to himself as he cupped one half of your face.

Pulling away you giggled, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

He smiled dreamily down at you, eyes glazed over in a sense of euphoria.

“D-do you wanna do that again?”

You grabbed his face once more, smiling into the kiss. 

“Fucking finally,” Sukuna’s mouth grinned from the side of Yuuji’s face.

[androgynousblackbox]

I think people are disagreeing on what "bending over backwards to be nice to children" actually entails. I think responding with an awkward "Huh! That's neat!" & excusing yourself to the bathroom is literally fine. The kid might be able to tell you're not interested but it won't traumatize them (kids can be incomprehensible at times & it's difficult to feign excitement about a crayon scribble). I don't think refusing to acknowledge their existence or telling them to scram is polite but IDK.

On my own experience online, what those people seems to mean when they say "be nice to children" is: -Never tells them anything negative, even after they already insulted you, sexually harassed you with inappropiate questions or crossed any other boundaries you might have. -Whenever that happens, you can't talk with anyone about it ever again because kids might feel bad by knowing that they being little shits is not well liked by the adults they were little shits to. -Always play minecraft with them. -You should let them play with whatever things of your property they want to play with, and you better don't mind at all when they break it. -Never comment about what bad thing any kid ever did on your account where you post works for adults, because else people will think you want to murder them (I saw this happening to Vizpop). -Never have a sexual thought, piece of art or fiction and post it on the internet. No, it doesn't matter if it's well tagged and warned. No, it doesn't matter if all the characters are on their 40s. A kid could still watch it and that is not nice of you to make possible. -Express unconditional disposition to all children at all times. Any refusal of the contrary is an admition of being a child abuser and nobody should ever trust you. If you aren't willing to do all of the above, you are a shit person, a monster and don't deserve to have children (nevermind if you even want them in the first place or not).

[fluffyglass]

THE MR. GRUMPY PLEASE STOP THREATENING MR. TICKLE'S LIFE MASTERPOST

I have lost all sense of reality

Season 1

Mr. Grumpy appears in 39 episodes of Season 2.

In 7 of these episodes does he do something wrong.

Season 2

Mr. Grumpy appears in 44 episodes of Season 2.

In 8 of these episodes does he do something wrong.

Conclusions

Mr. Grumpy does something wrong in 15 out of the 83 episodes he appears in, which is 18%. Counting my 10 unsures bumps him up to 25/83, which is 30%.

Mr. Grumpy is a super weird character to rank, as he's justifiably annoyed by pretty much everyone around him; this, however, makes me feel bad to consider him an asshole in any episode because he's beaten down by the world until he snaps. So, take everything I say here with a grain of salt.

The one thing I'll always count against him though is if he ever threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm because believe me he does that A LOT

Yellow - Mr. Grumpy does nothing wrong

Red - Mr. Grumpy does something wrong

Pink - idk lol

SEASON 1

Flying - Just doing his job

Music - he's just kinda there lmao

Physical - man nobody even DOES anything in the early episodes

Farm - He gets so hilariously close to saying fuck in this episode its ridiculous. Anyways he's a dick to everyone trying to help him

Lake - barely there

Beach - BIRDS STOLE HSI FUCKING SAMWICH SMH

Mall - what the fuck even was that segment

Birthday - I actually had to watch pretty much the entire episode for this one. He just wants to chill on his own the entire time and everyone else just . does not listen. Please just let him vibe

Boats - barely in it

Superstore - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Books - just sellin his book don't mind him

Camping - he just. cannot eat outside in peace

Science - fuck you Miss Daredevil

Fish - Blames Mr. Bump for splashing when he is . fucking dying

Paint - what the fuck even just happened. I guess he ran over Mr. Bump but it was presumably unintentional and. nsbdANSDMADF WHY ARE THEY CUBED

Construction - He was barely in it and then got fucking mauled at the end

Jobs - yep he sure is there I guess

Trains - Yeah he once again sure is there

Hobbies - he's kinda mean to Mr. Scatterbrain but he's Mr. Scatterbrain so

Fair - this show is so stupid

Dance - It's justifiable that he'd complain about the noise but like. Dude. It's a dance studio. Why am I defending Mr. Noisy again

Amusement Park - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm, then tickles him after he said he was gonna be sick :(

Adventure - almost dies

Dillydale Day - he's barely in it and all he does is insult the performance

Games - y'know how I said this show was stupid? This is another example of that but in a good way

Hotel - I had to watch this one twice cause I have no fucking idea what to do with it. Like. He's kind of a dick to everyone and barely does his actual job but like. r., what the fcl./??????? also he pushes Mr. Tickle over at some point yeah I'm counting this one

Chores - he's just chillin and then dies

Snow - this segment is fucking hilarious but that's just cause Stubborn's in it lmao anyways he's fine ig

Wildlife - just kinda there

Restaurants - this show is so stupid . again

Gardens - oh how I hate this fucking episode - forced myself to rewatch it, he doesnt do SHIT WRONG AND THESE FUCKERSSADASKDKJDFJKJKADFJKSCVCDVDJKLFKLF IM SO FUCKIGN MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cars - Miss Sunshine is nothing but courteous the entire time and Mr. Grumpy does nothing but fucking complain is this the reckoning we get after the disaster that is Gardens

Ships - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Cooking - Roasts the shit out of Miss Naughty but she deserved it so it's okay

Collecting - just kinda there

Sleep - Yeahhhhh uhhh he kinda sent Mr. Strong to his "death" and didn't really. give a shit. soooooooooo oh yeah also hes kinda just mean to everyone the entire time hes just a dick

Carwash - he's trying his best also GAY ICON EPISODE

Sightseeing - yeah

The Dark - yeah again

SEASON 2

Picnics - he's just kinda there

Outer Space - again he's just kinda there

Clean Teeth - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Airports - He's kinda just trying to stop Mr. Stubborn from committing a copious amount of crimes

Shoes - quits a performance right in the middle for no fucking reason ?

Arts and Crafts - he's just trying his best

Game Shows - just kinda there

Garages - this show is so stupid

Toys - this show is still so stupid also Mr. Nervous said among us and I screamed

Reptiles - isn't this just Cars again? but this time he's slightly more of an asshole considering he tries to get Miss Sunshine to ignore Mr. Lazy. The only good part of this bit is Martin

Hats - Tried to get Mr. Happy to ignore the other hat contest contestants so he could win, but he does share his prize at the end, so idk man

Robots - I have absolutely no fucking clue

Up and Down - bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

Dining Out - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Gifts - just kinda there

Sun and Moon - yep

Telephone - the whole fucking dillydale invaded his house wtf!!

Washing & Drying - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Sneezes & Hiccups - If I had a nickel for every Mr. Grumpy segment that was only funny because Mr. Stubborn was in it I'd have six nickels. I could buy a soda with that if it was 50 years ago

Fruit - Managed to be bribed with . fruit

Radio - bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

Supermarket - i fucking hate this show I dont care enough to rewatch this one

Skyscrapers - HE STOLE MR SCATTERBRAIN'S SANDWICH SMH

Cinema - I'm so tired

Getting Around - I am still tired

Clocks - this episode is ass

Post Office - I am still, in fact, tired

Dance, Dance, Dance - I'm not tired anymore this episode bangs

Library - HE BARELY EVEN DOES ANYTHING

Pirates - I'm tired again

Goo - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Trains & Planes - I am going to fall asleep

Out to Sea - I am asleep. also he ignores Mr. Quiet the entire time and doesn't acknowledge Miss Scary pretty much saving his life but hhhhhhhhhhhhhhbnbnvnvbb i am too tired to care at this point

Next Door - still asleep

Lunch - zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Machines - this isn't as painfully boring as Mr. Happy was but it's pretty close

Fairies and Gnomes - NEVERMIND I FUCKING LOVE THIS EPISODE

Home Improvement - asleep again

Bath and Bubbles - still asleep

Sand and Surf - I am up to 8 nickels at this point

Parks - Mr. Grumpy is so much more boring than I rememebred AND YEP THREATENED MR TICKLE WITH BODILY HARM

Surprises - I refuse to watch this episode again

Travel - THREATENED MR TICKLE WITH BODILY HARM AGAIN

Bad Weather - and I am now once again asleep

[keepingupwiththekamados]

The wind pillar's day off 🌟

Part 1 > Part 2 

Giyuu was not lying when he said Sanemi should be bed-bound. He fell victim to a paralytic demon art on his last mission and it's only thanks to his breathing techniques and Shinobu's early intervention that he's managed to avoid permanent damage.

That doesn't mean he emerged unscathed. He's little more than a cripple now. Fine, he can walk a fair distance; but he can't run. He doesn't have the strength to train, but he can summon a quick burst of energy every once in a while.

Not that it matters.

Naturally, Shinobu instructed him to stay in his estate till he recovers. Naturally, Sanemi was pissed.

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?" he remembers asking.

"I don't know. Read a book?" came her offhanded suggestion.

The Updated Encyclopedia of Native Plants glares back at him.

He shuts the cover of the tome with a heavy thunk, and absently impresses his palm upon the embossed title. Genya's been trying to persuade him to read it for a month now - so he can stop accidentally killing their plants, he suspects - and now was as good a time as any to get it done.

It wasn't so bad once he got started, he has to admit. There are whole chapters dedicated to each and every plant native to Japan; its origins, its variants, its medicinal properties, and of course, how to grow them. He can see why Genya is so passionate about this stuff.

Still, Sanemi has his limits. He's exhausted. Two hours had flown by since he started - two hours, and he's barely a quarter way through the tome.

Two hours...

... without interruption?

He fiddles with the thread of the spine as he mulls it over. Oddly enough, he hasn't seen neither hide nor hair of the demons since Giyuu dropped them off.

Suppose he shouldn't be surprised. They seem to be wary of Sanemi - and rightfully so. He stabbed them a couple times after all. Or maybe it was thrice. Or maybe… well, the details are irrelevent. He should be happy that they've finally culminated the self preservation skills to stay out of his way.

There is just one problem.

He's bored.

He didn't expect them to actually listen. He thought they would set out for revenge, because they are evil, spiteful little creatures. He would prefer it if they do violate his rules, actually; to force his hand, to put them in their place. It would be a nice break from this week-long monotony.

Perhaps he should investigate. Not because he's concerned or anything. In fact, he's the opposite of concerned: he's suspicious. What if they're plotting something? They could be waiting for the moment he falls asleep - the moment he slips his guard even just a little - and then they'll strike.

Hah. We'll see about that.

The flame of the oil lamp is extinguished with a quiet hiss. He pads out the library, his feet as light as a draft. It's more out of habit than anything. In reality, there's no point in being subtle - the red demon can probably smell him from a mile away, like the demented sniffer dog he is.

The black demon, however...

A shadow whips around the corner.

He follows.

The demon is quick, but he is quicker. It's only Nezuko. Sanemi cannot tell where she came from, nor where she's headed, but he'll know soon enough. He watches as she swishes down the length of the engawa - leaving a trail of dotted red in her wake.

Sanemi's instincts flare at the sight. It's blood, it must be! The demon must have commited some act of terror while he was holed up in the library. Damnit, he should've kept a closer eye on them! Now he has no choice but to decapi--

Ah, nevermind, it's just adzuki beans.

Sanemi pinches one off the floor with a frown. She'd stolen it from his courtyard. A little weird, sure, but not exactly a sin.

Further on, he reaches the end of his path: the kitchen. The first thing he notices from the other side of the door is the sweet smell of his crushed adzuki beans. They're cooking? What the hell? They don't get hungry, there's no reason for them to mess about in his kitchen. Unless they're trying to piss him off on purpose. He jerks the door open, and opens his mouth, ready to shout-

Except they don't even acknowledge his entry. Their backs are turned to him; huddled together, and bent over something that's hidden from view, and Nezuko giggles, and Tanjirou whispers shush. A ring of stray adzuki beans surround them, and to the side, a pot is sat upon the irori, clumps of rice spilling over the lip.

Sanemi is at a loss.

"Oi... what do you think you're doing?"

Tanjirou's face pops up. He's practically glowing with excitement as he jumps to his feet, and he trots over, Nezuko in tow, the sleeve of his haori masking whatever it is he's holding. It is a nerve-wracking moment. He places himself before the wind pillar. Takes a deep breath. Looks up, eyes twinkling innocence. And he raises the plate above his head.

"Dada!"

A single ohagi.

It is a rudimentary thing. Something tells him that this is one of many attempts that came from the past two hours. But he doesn't understand. Why him?

"Are you making fun of me? Is that it?"

"Mm?"

Tanjirou rocks on his heels, insistent. No, he really is trying to offer up this sad creation. Sanemi eyes it warily. As pathetic as it looks, it does smell rather nice. And he may have forgotten to eat today. And it is his favourite food...

So he snatches the plate. His glare floats from demon to demon as he tries to parse their intentions. Even still his cynicism refuses to let up. This could be a prank, or a poison attempt, or...

... maybe they're just trying to be nice?

In which case.

"Come with me," Sanemi grunts, and he leaves the kitchen.

[mothmansfriend]

when i’m sad oh god i’m sad (pt. 2)

link to pt. 1

follows a very similar timeline to @tearxofink‘s fic Rules for a Functioning Alcoholic but will prob have differences (such as no established relationships) and takes place in @illogicallyinclined‘s hockey au after the mention of Remus possibly having undiagnosed bipolar disorder

update: i think its important to acknowledge roughly where this takes place in the big timeline bc D doesn’t really drink past freshman yr in this AU because of self preservation and trauma, alcoholism was more an issue before then in high school (when remus and d were Rowdy Boys) but the stress of Logan’s concussion lead to some heavy drinking that was caught quickly by Virgil because Remus Cannot Keep Secrets.

summary: Remus has undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder and is dealing with a severe depressive episode in the aftermath of realizing that binge drinking with D wasn’t just his own search to Feel Something, but was also D’s relapse into alcoholism. Remus comes to the realization of lost time during manic episodes and refuses help.

tw: graphic descriptions of a depressive episode, self harm (burning),  suicidal thoughts, and suicidal intent (but not attempt). unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol abuse, mentioned alcoholism, undiagnosed mental illness, miscommunications on shared trauma, ask to tag if i missed any.

There are a number of places that are simply uncomfortable to sleep. Barely sitting up and using the chairs provided by the previous tenants as a pillow is certainly one of them. It takes Remus a moment to identify what woke him up as there's another round of knocking on his door and he doesn’t want to respond. It’s bright out,the sun is blocked from his figure by the curtains covering most of the windows. He hears Roman’s muffled voice as the locked doorknob jiggles, “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is”.

Their footsteps move away and Virgil speaks, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that-” his voice fades as they enter the kitchen.

Remus can barely pick himself off the floor before his phone lit up with a notification.

the shittier twin: You good? LMK when you’re coming home, Virgil is lowkey freaking out  (received: 10:14)

He stares at the words willing his brain to focus as he decides, maybe he should reply.

He sends a photo of a fat pigeon he took outside a club him and D got kicked out of a few weeks ago. It would be clear that the picture was taken at a different time, but does get message of ‘I’m alive’ across. Which is about as much as Remus is willing to communicate to people that haven’t even tried to contact him before now. How sad is it that his twin brother didn’t even check on him until six days later. Or maybe he should be asking if it’s sad that after four days Roman still hasn’t noticed that he’s home, or that it took Roman six to even ask? Remus spends all this time in the theatre and in the arts studio, and still Roman was the only one to ask, though at the request of someone who wants to get mad at him. He considers if maybe that he is a bad person, and that isn’t something he normally would care about, but if he weren’t then people might have checked on him. He usually hangs out with D almost everyday and he swears he’s never been gone more than maybe four days. But no one else seems concerned at all.

He considers reasons why this might be and gets stuck on Roman’s comment that he hasn’t been gone that long, and the implications then of him being gone longer. Things that don’t really make sense, but he knows losing your train of thought and getting distracted is a part of ADHD, but maybe, this is much more concerning. How does he know that he’s only ever been gone so long, maybe those lapses are more than a few minutes of zoning out. Which leads to, does Remus know who he is during these lapses? The contrast between the two prince twins have always been clear in their behaviour, Roman who follows every word their parents whisper in his ear. The boy grew up to be an actor after years of who takes any command without thought at that chance to be on top, and revelled in praise. It’s the cowards way of survival, are you really living if you’re not you? He knows Roman wasn’t quite loving that, but he still complied. Remus has always known exactly who he is and who he always will be. But the uncertainty of who he is in those spaces that seem to be taking up more and more space, maybe he;s been following someones script too?

He’s constantly changing his mind and forgetting where he is, are his feelings his? If everything the thought he knew about himself is slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass than how does he make it stop?

—

Virgil slides into the recently empty chair next to Roman the second Patton gets up to ask the waitress for another round of coffee, he steals one of Roman’s sausages and speaks, “By the way, I’m catching a ride to your place with you and D”.

Roman squawks at the sausage thief, “Why? I already told you Remus isn’t home!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Yeah I know, just humour me. I went to talk to Joan before we left and Thomas said Remus texted to apologize for missing practice, he’s never done that before! I just wanna come check, you can make fun of me later or whatever.”

“Fine, whatever, I know you’d just show up anyway. I don’t think him texting Thomas means anything though, even if it is weird.”

“Well we can agree to disagree then.”

—

The entry to the apartment the Prince twins share with D was just as full of banter as expected. D and Roman irritating Virgil without effort but Virgil matching that with his own comebacks and determination to check on Remus. “Alright, Emo Knightmare, let’s go knock on his cave door so I can know you again, that he isn’t home” Roman drops his bag next to the couch and heads down the shared hallway of D, Remus, and the storage closet. D walks past him with comments of a essay due tomorrow and disappears. Roman walks down and knocks on the door sternly once maintaining eye contact with Virgil knowing there will not be a response. Virgil follows him and he knocks again after a moment and jiggles the knocked door handle. “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is.” Roman turns and leads them back out into the living room towards the kitchen.

Virgil pauses for a moment watching the door before he follows, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that he actually texted to apologize for not showing up today. You know when Remus is out he never remembers to charge his phone, it just seems weird.”

Roman exhales and wordlessly pulls out his phone shooting off a text to his twin before pulling some leftovers out of the fridge to offer to Virgil despite the fact they had eaten not long ago. Virgil accepts and he puts it on two plates for the microwave. Roman’s phone vibrates on the counter with a text. The emo leans over to read and snorts, “Wait, is Remus’s name actually ‘the shittier twin’ in your phone? He just send a picture of  what appears to be an obese pigeon, that doesn’t answer my question at all!”

Roman shrugs, “Of course it is, and yeah that sounds about right, it’s like he’s trying to communicate through hieroglyphics, he’s just telling us he’s fine.”

Virgil’s dark eyes examine Roman’s face for any reflection that he’s just trying to make him stop bothering him with his concern, but when he sees nothing he drops his defensiveness, “Yeah, okay, he’s your brother, he’s kind of like a cat I guess. He always comes home right?”

The microwave beeps and Roman slides the extra plate in front of Virgil, “Exactly, he’s just like this, I’ll text you when he comes back. You don’t need to worry about it, Virge.”

Virgil shoots him a small smile before taking his plate to the couch closely followed by the oldest Prince twin as they settle down with Netflix until they need to leave for their respective classes.

—

Roman blearily wipes his eyes as he wakes up in his dark room and rolls over to check the time. 2:34am wake up and bathroom break time. He briefly considers just rolling over and waiting four or five hours until he needs to get up for class, but decides there’s just a higher chance of getting a restless sleep the rest of the night. The hockey captain rolls out of bed standing in his room shirtless and only wearing a random pair of soft sleep pants and stumbles out of his room, crossing the living room and entry way he’s about to try the handle of the dark bathroom door when it opens to reveal a tall dark figure.

Roman jumps back with an admittedly embarrassing squawk before recognizing the dark figure to be a freshly showered, exhausted, and almost weak looking Remus. The two stood in silence for a moment, Remus not even reacting to the sight of his brother. Roman awkwardly laughed for a moment, “Holy shit, Remus! I didn't even realize you were home.”

Remus stares emptily, moving to walk away without replying, Roman stops him with a hand on his shoulder, “Are you like, uh, okay? You kind of look like shit”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say as suddenly Remus’s face hardens into a snarl, “Oh fuck you, Roman.” His voice cracks halfway through but it doesn’t do anything to diminish the venom in his voice, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Christ! If you’re going to be an asshole then nevermind, I just wanted to check up on you. You know, like a concerned brother just might do?” Roman fires back suddenly feeling defensive. The tone of voice Remus uses almost sounds scared to him but he doesn’t have the energy to pry at Remus in the hallway less than 6 feet from D’s door at 2:30am.

“You don’t get to play any kind of concerned brother role right now! You don’t just get to decide to be concerned one day, it’s all about appearances with you, I dont fuck with that!” Remus’s voice raises as he gets more and more riled up, his voice sounds like shit as if he hasn’t used it in days, “Tell me when you think I got home, Princey, huh? You don't know shit about me and it’s time you stopped asking like you do.” He steps towards Roman edging back down the hallway to the living room.

“Why am I supposed to know when you got home?” Roman fires back, “You’re an adult! You’ve taken care of yourself fine for years, I’m not your parent I don’t need to know where you are twenty-four-fucking-seven!”

Vaguely, Roman hears D’s bedroom door open and feels brief regret that was smashed by Remus shoving him backwards. “You don’t need to know! But, did you ever think to wonder? Did you ever once care enough to ask? No! I don’t remember ever being gone more than three or four days.”

Roman recoils for a second in confusion but counters standing his ground, “What does that fucking mean? You own a calendar, a phone, you should know your average in the last year has been like five to seven days, you can’t blame me that you decide to go on a bender every 6 months or less. Can’t you ever grow up?”

“It means I don’t know where I was for two to four of those days at least! You self absorbed prick! Fuck!” Remus crumples for a second, his facial expression looks so, lost. He violently grabs and tugs on his still damp hair. He stands back up face guarded once again. “I know I never go out without a plan, I have paid some fucking terrible prices for that that you never need to know about. But, you’re telling me that I was out there and I don’t remember it? And no one thought to mention anything to me? And you’re asking if I’m ‘okay’? Fuck that, fuck you. I’m going back to my room, and ideally I’ll fucking rot and die before I have to look at you again,” Remus seethes before turning and slamming his door without waiting for a response.

Roman sags at his brothers exiting remarks, making tentative eye contact with D who waits in the dark hallway. “I don’t know what to do,” Roman says quietly.

D moves towards him moving them to the couch offering a comforting touch to the remaining twin, “Roman, I cannot tell you that I have any idea about what just happened. But, it seems like he just wants you to be there for him, in his own weird displays of affection he does love you and I think maybe he’s scared sometimes that you don’t care for him, and he lashes out. But right now, you need to go back to sleep so you can go to your boring nine am lecture, and I’ll try to spend time with him tomorrow. Sound good?”

Roman examines D, letting himself feel vulnerable for a moment but trusts that D knows what to do. He’s known the twins since high school, if anyone knew it would be him. “Thank you, D” Roman whispers, leaning into the little affection for a moment before he stands up and moves them back down the hallway.

Roman goes to the bathroom as originally planned but thinks about the things his younger brother had said. How much is he missing? What does it mean for Remus to simply not remember days at a time? Is it because of drinking too much or something else?

As Roman tucks himself back into bed, preparing himself for the restless sleep he had been trying to avoid. His mind wanders, and he can’t help but think that maybe he should be questioning blood stains on Remus’s carpet a little more.

[wendip-week]

Wendip Week: School

Hey guys, sorry for not posting these here during Wendip week. Let me give you a run-down of the background: I made my Wendip Week in context of the Kamen Rider Weird series I’m writing, which takes place in the future of SuperGroverAway’s universe (with ddp456 influence….yes, I had permission from them both). As a result, the main characrers from my series are co-hosts for this week. I’ll post more of Wendip Week here, but for those of you who want to read the main story, follow me on fanfiction.net or leave a guest review. Now, then, here’s part 1 of Wendip Week 2018:

##################################################################################################

“So, one thing I noticed when going through last year’s picks is that we really focused on one particular era….” Ken said, throwing some papers onto the floor.

“What, their married years?” Phoebe shrugged. “”Seems broad to me.”

“Come on!” Ken scoffed “This week is about the bond they share in general. And we ended that week by reminding everyone that it goes back about 26 years…when they first met.”

Phoebe sighed. “We’d better not be going through that again. But I have a better idea. See, the Christmas after, Mom visited Dad and Aunt Mabel. At the time they gave her a key as a sign she could drop by unannounced whenever she liked.”

Ken laughed. “Yeah, how thoughtful of them. Thanks to SuperGroverAway for documenting that story, by the way, go check him out. Didn’t they give her an axe too, though?”

Phoebe glared at him. “Not the point. The point is, Mom chose to use that key as a sign of carte blanche….as Piedmont Middle School soon found out….”

#########################################################################################

“Oh, come on!”

Dipper opened his eighth-grade locker to find several hateful notes from other students. He didn’t really need to read them. He already knew what they said from the last twenty times this year that similar notes got in there. The good news is that as he picked them up they actually fit one hand. It sure was a lot smaller than when the year began.

“Whop!” Mabel poked him in the forehead as she showed up at her locker right next to him.

Dipper jumped a bit - some things you never get used to - before acknowledging his sister. “Oh, hey, Mabel. Enjoyed art class?”

“Of course, silly!” Mabel gave her signature laugh as her arms hung loosely by her side. “How about you, bro-bro, I bet you really enjoyed that lab we did!”

“Yeah. Still can’t wait for high school labs, though…” Dipper held up the papers in his hand. “Mabel, have you been through my locker lately? We had a rule about this!”

“Whaaat?” Mabel made an expression of mock surprise. “I would never do that! You know I respect your boundaries.”

Dipper snorted. “Correction. You don’t respect any boundaries.”

“Well, I at least know to not try to hide stuff from -”

As Mabel opened her locker, she was cut off by more pieces of paper falling out of her own locker, clearly labeled “pipsqueak” on the front. Dipper looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, um, those are mine.”

“Really? Not unless they’re from like two years ago. Do you even try to make those excuses sound believable?” Dipper picked them up and added them to his stack. “Huh….still a lot less than when the year began…”

######################################################################

“Well, congrats, dude! Sounds like you’re making huge headway against the people who try keeping you down!” Wendy eagerly said to her friend.

Dipper leaned back in his bed, enjoying the cell phone his parent had given him - or more to the point, the voice of the girl on the other end. “Thanks, Wendy. I’m not forgetting that at all, I’m really not.”

It was the same evening after Dipper had finished his homework. On any year before this, he’d have spent his remaining time clearing through all the homework that was to be assigned for spring break. Normally he would’ve this year, too, but he had a promise to keep. After he had gotten his new phone, he and Wendy had agreed to call each other every few days. Not that either of them needed any encouraging to do that - after the past few holiday seasons, everyday life without each other was too commonplace and boring.

“So why do you still sound anxious?”

“What?” Dipper bolted upright. “Me? I’m not -”

“I know you too well, Dipper, come on….”

Dipper sighed. Honestly, at this point he wasn’t really wanting to hide anything from his best friend - it was more out of habit that he even pretended to try. “Well, the truth is, they all came from two people. Gary and Davis. Seems they decided to double their efforts to make up for no one else backing them up anymore. Faked their signatures and everything, like they had nothing better to do, which…makes a lot of sense, given who they are.”

“It’s incredible how much some people refuse to learn. But hey, dude, you got this! Just show them like you did the last few guys.”

“It’s not that simple, actually.”

“Why not?”

“Well, the parents of those kids complained, so the district board set up a new rule. If you try and fight back, you’re considered part of the problem and punished along with the instigator. They could honestly care less if you were going to bleed out had you not done anything.”

Wendy paused before responding. “That might be the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

“Yeah, they called it the Pines statute.”

Wendy groaned. “Nevermind. That was.”

Dipper continued. “Well, at least spring break is literally a day away. For now I can just keep my head hidden and relax for awhile afterwards.”

“So what, back to plan A? Dude, if you give them that, they win!”

“No, it’s not backing out. I just need some time to think of something else,” Dipper replied unconvincingly. He looked at his books at his desk and decided it was time to get back to work. “Speaking of relaxing, I’m trying to knock out my spring break homework so I can actually have a shot at it. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Alright, man. Just promise me you’ll keep your head up, even as you…you know, keep it down.”

“No worries, Wendy. I will.” With that, Dipper hung up, sighed, and rolled of his bed to do some math.

############################################################################

Wendy stared at the phone, listening to the dial tone for a few seconds before hanging up on her end. She was always glad to hear of Dipper growing into his own, figuring out how to stand up for himself. Still, sometimes it was hard to believe that the same person who stopped an apocalypse from destroying everything in the universe could get pushed around that much. She knew that those same brains were pretty much why he was bullied, but that was of little comfort. And now the board had somehow decided that it was perfectly fine for Dipper to lie down and take whatever those two meatheads wanted to give him.

She eventually sighed “That dork” before deciding that she too should get back to work. As she opened her notebooks, though, she gasped at what she saw. Immediately she picked up the phone and dialed another number.

“Hey, Tambry, how’s it going?… Remember how you said you owe me for getting you and the others out of Weirdmageddon?… Well…”

#############################################################################

“OK.” Dipper said to himself the next day, as he was packing his backpack at his locker. “Almost done…I just need to get out of here, and blissful spring break is - ”

“HAHA! Sup, dweeb?”

Dipper closed his eyes and groaned at the familiar voices. “So close…”

Two boys taller than him - one blonde, the other black-haired - flanked him from either side, making it impossible for him to move. Dipper just had his back pressed up against the wall as his locker door swung left and right next to him. “Oh, hey Gary, hey Davis. What’ are you still doing here?”

Blonde Gary laughed. “Well, we can’t exactly leave school for a week without giving the nerdy shrimp one last reminder that we exist.”

Davis chimed in, “Especially when that same shrimp tried pulling a fast one on our friends.” His hands flexed threateningly.

Dipper’s first instinct was to cower and apologize. But that sentiment lasted a millisecond before giving way to the words Wendy had told him last night - promise me you’ll keep your head up, even as you…you know, keep it down. He was too far gone at this point, so it was time to go all in. “Some friends they are, for them to ditch your little hobby since then.”

Gary’s eyebrow twitched, but he acted tough as he retorted. “Oh, I guess their notes got lost in the mail, then.”

Dipper snorted with fake bravado. “No, I have ‘their’ notes right here,” he replied, pulling out the notes from yesterday. “But honestly, a kid could tell you just wrote them all. If you really enjoyed it that much, at least put some effort into it.”

Gray pressed him into the locker wall. “You wanna keep talking, boy, I can - ”

At this point, however, Davis looked at the open locker and noticed something. “Hey, Gary, look at this.” With that he reached out and took the lumberjack hat inside. The hat.

“Hey! Give it back!” Dipper became defensive as his vision narrowed, only registering that the two hooligans were now fingering the precious photo of Wendy that he also kept in there.

“What’s this? Dipstick’s got a bit of an imaginary girlfriend, I see!” one began.

“And likes dressing up as her, apparently….” the other turned the hat around, laughing his head off.

“That’s my friend from the summer! Oregon, remember? Making fun of my ‘hick’ uncle because he lives ‘nowhere’? Now drop the hat!” Dipper remained locked in a fierce gaze right into Gary’s eyes, but he felt a part of his confidence flag. He had fought well, but now he was losing and he knew it.

Davis laughed. “Right. Like someone THIS cool could come from THAT kind of place and be YOUR friend? I bet in real life your friend was ugly and dumb and…”

“Keep talking, buddy.”

All three boys were caught off guard as they once again became aware of their surroundings. The taller boys turned around as Dipper’s peripheral vision cleared up. All three of them had to slowly crane their necks a tad up, traveling from the boots…to the blue jeans..to the green flannel…to the red hair….to the blue-and-white pine tree trucker hat on top. For in front of them stood Wendy Corduroy, with eyes that showed anger at what she heard, but a smirk that showed she was going to enjoy what happens next.

Gary sneered, desperately putting up a brave front. “So, having your friend come down to save you? Having others fight your battles? You really are weak, runt.”

“Really?” Wendy’s eyes at this point were screaming bloody murder. “From what I hear, you two are the last of…what, a dozen people picking on my favorite guy? He took care of them without my help, and I bet he’s smarter than all of them combined. I’m just giving him a bit of a break from dealing with you. Now then…what were you saying about me and my town?” Her voice made it clear that one wrong word would get them severely punished.

Davis spoke up. “Hey, you do know that if you attack us now, the school board will get you.”

Wendy laughed. “Really, how stupid are you? You still don’t get it. I’m. not. From. here. They can’t do anything to me because I’m not one of their students. I play by Oregon state rules, where things get a bit more…physical.” She flexed her fingers, long yet strong from days of holding her hatchet. “Wanna see?”

Davis and Gary both took one look at each other and bolted for the exit. Wendy called after them. “Yeah, you better run! Try messing with either Pines again, sucka!” With that, she turned her attention to the one boy left. “Hey, man. You ok?”

Dipper slowly stepped forward, unsure at first if it was real. Doubt quickly gave way to happiness as he hugged her as high as he could. “Wendy! You’re really here! But…how did - ?”

Wendy hugged him back. “Good to see you too, buddy,” she laughed. “It’s actually pretty funny what happened last night after I hung up…”

###############################################################################

As she opened her notebooks, though, she gasped at what she saw; the planner in front of her said “school closed earlier for Spring Break. Starts Friday.” She saw her chance to do the one thing she wanted to do more than anything at the moment; set things right for Dipper in Piedmont.

Immediately she picked up the phone and dialed another number. From the other side of the phone she heard her tech-savvy friend’s voice say. “Hi, this is Tambry? Wendy, this really you?”

“Hey, Tambry, how’s it going?”

“Wow, you never call this late. Something must really be weighing you down.”

“Yeah… Remember how you said you owe me for getting you and the others out of Weirdmageddon?”

“Calling it in already? What is it?”

“Well, I know Mabel follows you on Twitter. Do NOT post anything tomorrow about Spring Break starting early.”

“Oh, come on! I pretty much have to stay off it completely to do that! What justifies this?”

Wendy fingered the truck keys as she said, “Simply put, I need the element of surprise…”

#######################################################################

“Oh my God, you’re the coolest person I know!” Dipper separated from the hug to look at his heroine with awe.

She cracks a grin. “What else is new? Anyway, you’re the one who gave me a key for Christmas, you should’ve seen this somewhat coming!” She looked around. “Wait, where’s Mabel? Doesn’t she usually back you up?”

“Oh, well, we have different classes at the end of the day, so it takes her longer to get back.”

Wendy grinned ad snickered. “Oh man, Dipper, I got an idea. I’m gonna hide in this classroom, she will go NUTS when she sees me!”

As she quickly took her position, Dipper grinned. “Break begins early, then…”

###############################################################

“So yeah, quite the gesture eh, Ken?” Phoebe asked. After a second of silence, she turned to check on him and was surprised. “Uh, Ken?”

Ken leaned against the back of his chair, scribbling numbers onto a notepad. “Oh, sorry, just calculating the fuel costs for such a trip.”

Phoebe looked at him with befuddled amazement. “THAT was the takeaway for you? You can’t ask for broader scope and then tune out when we get it.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I loved every moment of it,” Ken reassured his co host. “I’m mostly surprised your mom didn’t unsheath her hatchet in front of those kids for messing with a Pines.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” Phoebe conceded. “Personally, I think it’s mostly because she stayed with them when in town. Can you imagine if Granny Linda had heard about THAT when the three teens came home that afternoon?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right…” Ken chuckled as he popped another bag of chips. “Absolute bedlam…”

[247krp]

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Oh Heejun, spotted prancing about in the Northeast Side. I don’t remember seeing him with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say ambitious and kind? Apparently now he spends time as a waiter at Nocturnal Music Club, student and a forensics investigator in training, and keeps skeletons buried at Banjeom Apartments, 501. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Lilac; we missed you so.

TW: mental disorder, mention of death

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

Heejun has always been a bookworm, a helpful and optimistic boy. He took extra classes in high school, and advanced science classes, falling in love with chemistry. Although people liked to be around him, either to take advantage or actually be his friend, there were some who hated his guts. One of them was certainly GG, who had to search every unwanted corner to find something negative about a predominantly positive person. Heejun admired their perseverance in a way, and never spoke ill about them. After months, they finally found some old records from Heejun’s therapy sessions. Those described his memory loss, his hard condition at home and between the lines, his mother’s disappearance. Heejun’s subtle but strange obsessions led GG to think that he suffers from a mental disorder due to his memory loss, and poverty. She called it OCD, and because of his obsession with lilac, she gave him that name. The rumours affected some of his relationships at school, people started to be more careful around him, some dissing him because of his so-called disease. But Heejun never got affected by it, not even when his P. E. teacher shamed him in front of the whole class. He wore his smile, and kept his mind occupied with things he loved, like chemistry. Strangely, his teacher disappeared two weeks after the event, and his words were soon forgotten. He graduated first in his class, and got the chance to obtain a scholarship at a renowned University.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

Heejun is still a student, but he has a bright future ahead. He is admired by his teachers, he works extra hard to enter the field he desires to work in. Luckily, a forensics investigator decided to help him train for the field, thing that has gained Heejun quite a respectable reputation. However, his financial situation is still shaky, so he has to work in order to support his studies. His grandparents can only give him this much, they are both old and only his grandmother still works. Heejun’s dream is to earn enough to help his grandparents, as he owes them his life. Once he has a stable job, he can start to pay for his therapy sessions, and finally pay for a way to meet Morphius. He keeps his life private, and nobody he knows seems to care too much, especially because his kind personality overshadows all negative things that might lurk beneath the surface.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Touched by the heavy wings of fate, Heejun was born in a poor house, barely surviving his first winter. His mother carried him at her chest from house to house, imitating the Christmas story, until she laid down in the snow and cried. He was all she had, the only reason she kept going, the only reason she was still trying. And in a flicker of hope, he found her, on the streets begging like Maggie for a new home. Heejun scarcely remembers his rough features and stern voice. Although she fell in love, the boy never approved of his presence. He would cry crocodile tears whenever he stepped closer, and for some unknown reasons he always reacted violently. A part of him blames him for her disappearance. However, his other voice screams that her disappearance just happened. Everything after the age of three until his early teen years was just a blurry past. He had no recurrence of any event, something his doctors called selective amnesia, and his psychologist an awakening. It felt like waking up from a long dream, with no mother, no father, and in the care of two loving grandparents. No event made sense for a long time, he had no idea why he had to go to therapy, no idea why his mother was missing. One thing was, however, certain: at one moment during that period Morphius was born. One single moment determined his decay.

Morphius is what his doctor called his alter ego. Heejun never met him, but he always wanted to. He does not know who met him, he cannot recall anything his alter ego did. For him, it feels like pieces of his memory were intentionally taken out. Nevertheless, the big changes that occurred were in his personality. Despite going through hard times, Heejun remained an impossibly optimistic boy, always smiling and looking for what ifs, for a better solution, for ways to help everyone. Naturally, people took advantage of him, but he never gave up. His quick-witted personality, and abnormal life drive impressed nearly everyone he came in touch with. He has been admired and envied for his motivation and intelligence. Not even the nasty rumours about him brought him down. However, he always feelsan indescribable darkness live within him. Most of the times he chooses to ignore it, for the sake of his sanity and health. He cannot explain it, he cannot explain his violent art. Heejun, the nerdy boy with glasses, the straight A student, would never hurt anyone. But he ‘wondered’ if Morphius would. This question remains ‘unanswered’ for Heejun, and answered by everyone who met Morphius.

Lilac was Heejun’s first coloured pencil, and Morphius’ first victim. A girl in his neighbourhood, who dared call his mother ugly. Morphius was quite active at the age of six, and once Heejun’s parent was shamed, he stepped in. He feels morbidly attracted to his positive alter ego, seeking to touch his reflection, the embodiment of purity. Yes, he is a narcissist, and a protective ‘friend’. He buried the girl under the family’s lilac tree, Heejun’s favourite flower. He knew Heejun will appreciate the disappearance of that annoying burden. He was satisfied, for a while. But Heejun never found the body, Heejun kept ignoring him, Heejun wasignoring him. Morphius felt neglected. His positive alter ego never patted his head and told him sweet nothings. His alter ego never acknowledged him. Youexpect him to be nice? No. From age six to age twelve was show-time. After Morphius got rid of all things that could distract Heejun, he disobeyed all rules. Mentally he was about twenty at that time, despite his small frame and childish smile. Once Heejun woke up, he found the notes he left behind. The only records Heejun actually has, the proof of Morphius’ existence. He hides them, because he does not know what to make of them. Pages, and pages of graphic descriptions, deranged comments and the ending note of I love you, friend. Like most negative things in his life, Heejun put that aside. But if someone would find those, his whole life might and would crumble before him. He lied about them. Yes, Heejun actually lied. Whenever he was asked: Do you remember?, he would answer no. But the pages he has, those are his memories. He just refuses them.

[kyuuzuchiha]

X Me [ a Drabble of the first time/moments in which Sasuke realized that he loved her; and trying to confess it to her a little too late, or having to promise a change in himself in order to make things work.. (perhaps on the brink of supposed death, when she's very much done with it all and avoiding him, having to convince her that they're right for one another.. etc. choices up to you! Just a mix of angst/fluff of course >:3c)

I head away from my home, which is nestled on the outskirts of the village, shut away from prying eyes and difficult to find. It’s a place one simply stumbles upon, and they’re promptly sent away if they happen to. One of the beautiful things about this sliver of land is that in three directions spread the purity of the wilds. Even more beautiful: head the last direction and you’ll make it back into civilization quickly enough but not too quickly for my taste. Even more beautiful: it’s mine alone.

Well, it was… until she came.

Heading north on a path that’s been beaten by me alone, ducking beneath low-hanging branches and winding around large clusters of tree trunks, I keep sneaking glances behind me. I could have turned her away. Maybe I should have. I didn’t though. She was standing there, soaked to the bone and determined not to be frazzled, and I admired the way she refused to sacrifice even a shred of her dignity. She would have walked away had I told her to, but I didn’t. Somehow, I just couldn’t.

Maybe I was trying to atone for my sins. Maybe I thought doing this would right at least some of my wrongs. Maybe I knew, even then, without knowing it at all, that she would change my life. Maybe I knew I needed that, even though I couldn’t know what was coming.

I’m content to walk in silence, and so is she. This isn’t the first time we’ve shared this walk, but I’m seeing things differently this time around. My eyes slide to their corners and I look sideways, sure to keep my head straight so as not to be conspicuous as I stare at her. Now that we’ve gotten through the thickest of the thickets, there’s enough space to walk side-by-side, so we do.

It’s hard to remember how long she’s been here. It feels like a lifetime. Every single day with her feels like a lifetime, actually, and I don’t mean that in a romantic way… or maybe I do. It’s just that… when you start an argument with her, it never ends, but maybe that’s my fault too. Everything about her is never-ending–her passion, her ferocity, her power, her strength, her stubbornness, her snide comments, her challenging stares. When she starts laughing–a rare occurrence–it seems to stretch on into infinity. Even her hair seems to flow for days when the wind whips it enough.

She is infinity.

Her eyes flicker toward me and her head turns slightly. I look away quickly–too stubborn to let her catch me caring about her presence. The air between us has been tense for days. She’d say it was my fault, and I’d say it was hers, but we both know we share the blame equally, or at least we both want that to be the truth, even as we cling to our separate claims of innocence.

When we break through to the meadow, she makes her way toward the narrow stream at the far side and I linger a few steps behind–an excuse to watch her without her knowing. Of course, she feels the intensity of my gaze on her back anyway and ends up whipping around.

“What’s your problem?” There alights a familiar fire in her eyes.

I sigh. It may sound as though this is bothersome and I’m already bored of it, but really I’m just tired. “You didn’t have to come.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” she says, arms folding across her chest. Her chin inclines and she looks down her nose at me. Her lip even twitches into a slight scowl.

I sigh again, and I can see it’s really grating on her nerves. I open my mouth, but she’s quick to the draw.

“Forget it,” she snaps, turning away and starting for the stream again.

She doesn’t seem to fit the scenery anymore. Her feet are heavy on the earth, leaving stamps where she’s been walking. Her hands slap at the tips of the long grass as she sways her arms with the same ferocity of her steps. She kicks a rock and sends it flying into the stream, and I sigh again. I truly am weary.

When she looks back at me, my expression stays as blank as ever, as if I couldn’t be bothered to be moved by her behavior. On one hand, I can’t. On the other, I inevitably am. I’ve just mastered the art of concealing any inner conflict I might subject myself to. It’s a survival skill, and she has it too. It should say something that she’s willing to let that veil down around me, but it doesn’t dawn on me until this very moment in time that I should feel blessed by such an honest display of emotion.

Can’t I return the favor?

I close the gap between us, and she starts laying into me before I even get there. “What’s your problem?” again, and “Why are you such an ass?” and other things like “Who gave you the right? Where do you get the audacity? Do you think I’m a child? Would you like to tame me? Because let me tell you–!” and it just goes on for so long that I start to tune her out.

Eventually, I just repeat myself. “You didn’t have to come.”

She huffs, folds her arms, and stares straight across the stream. She doesn’t say anything more, but I can feel the irritation coming off of her in waves. It’s a warning sign: “Back off if you value your life.”

So I do. I walk a few paces away from her and sit on a large stone.

I started this walk for some peace and quiet, and I didn’t mind when she decided to join me. I didn’t invite her, but I didn’t reject her company. I simply announced that I would be heading to the stream and didn’t bat an eye when she trailed along. I didn’t think it would be like this though. I thought the point was to get away from our disagreements, but they seem to follow us everywhere, thickening the air between us until it’s insufferable. Usually, we just mutually let it go and never speak of it again until it becomes good ammo for the next firing round.

This feels different though.

I get so lost in my idea of what this should have been like that I ignore what it’s become, and before I know it, she’s walking away. I turn to see her hair swishing back and forth as she stomps away. My brows crinkle in confusion and, for some reason, my lips open to beckon her.

“Kimiko…”

She stops promptly and spins around, narrowing infuriated eyes at me. At that moment, in which we share an intense gaze, I start to understand her. Beneath that thick veil of anger sits a delicate pain. I can’t know why it’s there, for something tells me it isn’t about me at all. Yet, I struck the match, but I’m not willing to be responsible.

“What?” she snaps. The tone is sharp, but I can sense an insecure warble to it that she’s trying to hide. She doesn’t wait long in my silence before she just starts walking away again.

I watch her go, and nothing really happens. There’s nothing that breaks inside of me. Nothing tells me to follow her. Nothing. I just.. watch her go, but I do start to think once she’s completely gone from view.

Maybe I’m a little coarse. Well, actually, we both know that I am, but she is too. She and I share so much in common, but I guess we could both probably agree that I am the colder one between us two. I thought we were both okay with that, but maybe not. She can be crass, tactless, cruel, and heartless like me, but she’s not aloof like me. She’s in every moment. She feels everything. She knows when to craft a strong visage, but she isn’t afraid to be whatever she may be at that moment.

I’m never in anything. I’m always removed. It strikes me that I may come across as too good. Do I come across as high and mighty? To be fair, I am higher and mightier than most, but not Kimiko. She has to know that I don’t think that lowly of her. I’m not too high or mighty for her at all. In fact, I respect no one in the way that I respect Kimiko.

It occurs to me that my behavior may have dug this hole for me. I like to think it’s a back-and-forth, a banter that leads us to these stalemates, but maybe it’s just me.

I sigh, yet again, and head after her. I can’t imagine myself unloading this huge confession, but I can, at the very least, attempt to bury the hatchet for real this time. And I’m not talking about letting it die for now. I’m talking about letting it go. Maybe this warrants an actual apology.

It takes me a while to get home, for I’m wandering leisurely, but I eventually walk up along the side of our small garden. The back door is half open, so I close it behind myself. I intend to sit at the kitchen table until she’s ready to face me again, but I hear a rustling that intrigues me. Being nosy, I walk down the hall and peek into Kimiko’s bedroom. She’s stuffing clothes into a bag furiously. She wipes her hand across her face after a couple of paces and I wonder if she’s crying.

“What’re you doing?”

I almost regret saying anything. She looks at me with so much fury in her eyes that I swear I’ll burn down to ashes right then and there. It ignites a fire within me too.

“Don’t fuckin worry about it!” she spits before going back about her business. I open my mouth, but she stomps over and slams the door in my face before I can say anything at all.

I’m angry at first, but I calm myself pretty quickly. It’s foolish to let myself be riled up by this. What does it say about me if I get moved by something like this? What does it say about us?

Or… more importantly… why am I so scared of what it says about us?

Nevermind that.

I walk out into the living room and sit on a chair that allows me to watch the hallway. I think for a long time, so long that I start to think she was just bluffing. Eventually, she does come out though, bag in hand. She heads straight for the door, and I don’t expect her to acknowledge me, so I’m surprised when she stops.

“Kimiko…” The word is soft on my lips. “You can’t go.”

Her gaze is almost… pleading… for a moment, and then it gets hard again. “Why? Why can’t I go?” she demands to know.

I don’t say anything for a while, and the pleading look comes back again. “Just look at the fucking truth Sasuke. Tell yourself, and then tell me. I’m tired of waiting for you to open your damn eyes, and I’m not gonna sit around and force you to see things differently. Either you will, or you won’t.”

There’s a spark between us, and I’ve been mistaking the root of the friction. Maybe it’s deeper than I want to admit. I can’t just… I can’t just understand these things so easily though. This is the first moment that I’ve started to wonder at the meat of what’s really happening between us. She can’t expect me to make grand leaps in one day, can she?

Her tone is low–a mixture of defeat and anger. “I guess you won’t.”

She turns to go, and I can’t stand to see her turn away from me one more time, so I leap forward. My hand is gripping her elbow and I’m yanking until she’s facing me again. “I’ll be better…” The words just tumble from my lips–a promise so honest that I don’t get a chance to filter it at all. It just comes pouring right out of me. My brows have crinkled together and my lips have pulled down into the slightest of pouts.

To my surprise, she looks right past the look of vulnerability on my face… unless it’s not there… unless I’m so cold that I can’t even show it anymore. She scoffs at me, and it chips away at my core, and she says, “No you won’t.”

Just like that, she’s gone, as if she’d never been there in the first place.

For days, I wait for her to return. I amble around like a ghost. And even though it was like this before she ever came, I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s almost as if I never lived a life before her. The garden dies, and I run out of food, so I end up having to go into the village market to spend what little money I have to spend. I’ll have to take a mission to make more money now that I’ve let my delicate lifestyle slip. The balance is easy to break, and it forces me out of my solitude.

Time melts away, and I don’t know how long it’s been. I don’t know if I just miss her, but I see her at the market one day after an especially long mission. I’m stopping on my way home after getting paid, just to grab a few things, and I see her. I rush forward, and I grab her elbow, and I expect to be disturbing a stranger, but there she is. Her eyes don’t go half as wide as mine. Her heart doesn’t seem to be shooting off nearly as wildly as mine is.

We stare at each other for a long moment. Her brow arches expectantly, and then I ask, “Where have you–?”

“I’ve been around,” she says simply.

“Come home.” It’s a demand, but it’s soft. It’s new to me. I haven’t yet learned how to make it a question, but can she just give me credit for making it gentle?

There’s none of the vulnerability ripping out of me reflected in her eyes. She turns, she whispers, “Stay healthy,” and she walks away.

My heart feels as though it’s been ripped in two, but I quickly get a handle on that. I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want me. I stew on that thought for days. I wonder if that’s what she was thinking when she left too.

‘I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want me.’

To my surprise, I come home from a short mission a few days later to find her sitting on the back porch. Her bag is at her side as she sits in one of the rocking chairs sipping some tea. She could have easily let herself in–in fact, she did, when she went to make that tea–but she didn’t put her things away, as if she’s trying to make a gesture of it… or maybe she just doesn’t plan on staying.

I walk right up through the downtrodden garden and take a seat in the chair opposite her. I look sideways, but this time I turn my full head. I don’t try to catch a covert glance. I don’t try to hide that I’m looking her way. I just look, and I bury the shame I used to feel at being so openly drawn to her. She finally glances at me, and maybe she thinks the look in my eyes is pitiful, because she scoffs at me.

“Our garden looks horrible.”

My lips pull up at the corners. That’s all I need–just the intoned ‘we’ of it. Our garden looks terrible.

“I’ll be better,” I promise, and we both know by now that I’m not talking about the garden.

She murmurs around the lip of her teacup, “I know.”

[kyuuzuchibi]

Infinite To Me

To: quiet-kunoichi’s Kimiko (OC) Under cut for length

I head away from my home, which is nestled on the outskirts of the village, shut away from prying eyes and difficult to find. It’s a place one simply stumbles upon, and they’re promptly sent away if they happen to. One of the beautiful things about this sliver of land is that in three directions spread the purity of the wilds. Even more beautiful: head the last direction and you’ll make it back into civilization quickly enough but not too quickly for my taste. Even more beautiful: it’s mine alone.

Well, it was… until she came.

Heading north on a path that’s been beaten by me alone, ducking beneath low-hanging branches and winding around large clusters of tree trunks, I keep sneaking glances behind me. I could have turned her away. Maybe I should have. I didn’t though. She was standing there, soaked to the bone and determined not to be frazzled, and I admired the way she refused to sacrifice even a shred of her dignity. She would have walked away had I told her to, but I didn’t. Somehow, I just couldn’t.

Maybe I was trying to atone for my sins. Maybe I thought doing this would right at least some of my wrongs. Maybe I knew, even then, without knowing it at all, that she would change my life. Maybe I knew I needed that, even though I couldn’t know what was coming.

I’m content to walk in silence, and so is she. This isn’t the first time we’ve shared this walk, but I’m seeing things differently this time around. My eyes slide to their corners and I look sideways, sure to keep my head straight so as not to be conspicuous as I stare at her. Now that we’ve gotten through the thickest of the thickets, there’s enough space to walk side-by-side, so we do.

It’s hard to remember how long she’s been here. It feels like a lifetime. Every single day with her feels like a lifetime, actually, and I don’t mean that in a romantic way… or maybe I do. It’s just that… when you start an argument with her, it never ends, but maybe that’s my fault too. Everything about her is never-ending–her passion, her ferocity, her power, her strength, her stubbornness, her snide comments, her challenging stares. When she starts laughing–a rare occurrence–it seems to stretch on into infinity. Even her hair seems to flow for days when the wind whips it enough.

She is infinity.

Her eyes flicker toward me and her head turns slightly. I look away quickly–too stubborn to let her catch me caring about her presence. The air between us has been tense for days. She’d say it was my fault, and I’d say it was hers, but we both know we share the blame equally, or at least we both want that to be the truth, even as we cling to our separate claims of innocence.

When we break through to the meadow, she makes her way toward the narrow stream at the far side and I linger a few steps behind–an excuse to watch her without her knowing. Of course, she feels the intensity of my gaze on her back anyway and ends up whipping around.

“What’s your problem?” There alights a familiar fire in her eyes.

I sigh. It may sound as though this is bothersome and I’m already bored of it, but really I’m just tired. “You didn’t have to come.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” she says, arms folding across her chest. Her chin inclines and she looks down her nose at me. Her lip even twitches into a slight scowl.

I sigh again, and I can see it’s really grating on her nerves. I open my mouth, but she’s quick to the draw.

“Forget it,” she snaps, turning away and starting for the stream again.

She doesn’t seem to fit the scenery anymore. Her feet are heavy on the earth, leaving stamps where she’s been walking. Her hands slap at the tips of the long grass as she sways her arms with the same ferocity of her steps. She kicks a rock and sends it flying into the stream, and I sigh again. I truly am weary.

When she looks back at me, my expression stays as blank as ever, as if I couldn’t be bothered to be moved by her behavior. On one hand, I can’t. On the other, I inevitably am. I’ve just mastered the art of concealing any inner conflict I might subject myself to. It’s a survival skill, and she has it too. It should say something that she’s willing to let that veil down around me, but it doesn’t dawn on me until this very moment in time that I should feel blessed by such an honest display of emotion.

Can’t I return the favor?

I close the gap between us, and she starts laying into me before I even get there. “What’s your problem?” again, and “Why are you such an ass?” and other things like “Who gave you the right? Where do you get the audacity? Do you think I’m a child? Would you like to tame me? Because let me tell you–!” and it just goes on for so long that I start to tune her out.

Eventually, I just repeat myself. “You didn’t have to come.”

She huffs, folds her arms, and stares straight across the stream. She doesn’t say anything more, but I can feel the irritation coming off of her in waves. It’s a warning sign: “Back off if you value your life.”

So I do. I walk a few paces away from her and sit on a large stone.

I started this walk for some peace and quiet, and I didn’t mind when she decided to join me. I didn’t invite her, but I didn’t reject her company. I simply announced that I would be heading to the stream and didn’t bat an eye when she trailed along. I didn’t think it would be like this though. I thought the point was to get away from our disagreements, but they seem to follow us everywhere, thickening the air between us until it’s insufferable. Usually, we just mutually let it go and never speak of it again until it becomes good ammo for the next firing round.

This feels different though.

I get so lost in my idea of what this should have been like that I ignore what it’s become, and before I know it, she’s walking away. I turn to see her hair swishing back and forth as she stomps away. My brows crinkle in confusion and, for some reason, my lips open to beckon her.

“Kimiko…”

She stops promptly and spins around, narrowing infuriated eyes at me. At that moment, in which we share an intense gaze, I start to understand her. Beneath that thick veil of anger sits a delicate pain. I can’t know why it’s there, for something tells me it isn’t about me at all. Yet, I struck the match, but I’m not willing to be responsible.

“What?” she snaps. The tone is sharp, but I can sense an insecure warble to it that she’s trying to hide. She doesn’t wait long in my silence before she just starts walking away again.

I watch her go, and nothing really happens. There’s nothing that breaks inside of me. Nothing tells me to follow her. Nothing. I just.. watch her go, but I do start to think once she’s completely gone from view.

Maybe I’m a little coarse. Well, actually, we both know that I am, but she is too. She and I share so much in common, but I guess we could both probably agree that I am the colder one between us two. I thought we were both okay with that, but maybe not. She can be crass, tactless, cruel, and heartless like me, but she’s not aloof like me. She’s in every moment. She feels everything. She knows when to craft a strong visage, but she isn’t afraid to be whatever she may be at that moment.

I’m never in anything. I’m always removed. It strikes me that I may come across as too good. Do I come across as high and mighty? To be fair, I am higher and mightier than most, but not Kimiko. She has to know that I don’t think that lowly of her. I’m not too high or mighty for her at all. In fact, I respect no one in the way that I respect Kimiko.

It occurs to me that my behavior may have dug this hole for me. I like to think it’s a back-and-forth, a banter that leads us to these stalemates, but maybe it’s just me.

I sigh, yet again, and head after her. I can’t imagine myself unloading this huge confession, but I can, at the very least, attempt to bury the hatchet for real this time. And I’m not talking about letting it die for now. I’m talking about letting it go. Maybe this warrants an actual apology.

It takes me a while to get home, for I’m wandering leisurely, but I eventually walk up along the side of our small garden. The back door is half open, so I close it behind myself. I intend to sit at the kitchen table until she’s ready to face me again, but I hear a rustling that intrigues me. Being nosy, I walk down the hall and peek into Kimiko’s bedroom. She’s stuffing clothes into a bag furiously. She wipes her hand across her face after a couple of paces and I wonder if she’s crying.

“What’re you doing?”

I almost regret saying anything. She looks at me with so much fury in her eyes that I swear I’ll burn down to ashes right then and there. It ignites a fire within me too.

“Don’t fuckin worry about it!” she spits before going back about her business. I open my mouth, but she stomps over and slams the door in my face before I can say anything at all.

I’m angry at first, but I calm myself pretty quickly. It’s foolish to let myself be riled up by this. What does it say about me if I get moved by something like this? What does it say about us?

Or… more importantly… why am I so scared of what it says about us?

Nevermind that.

I walk out into the living room and sit on a chair that allows me to watch the hallway. I think for a long time, so long that I start to think she was just bluffing. Eventually, she does come out though, bag in hand. She heads straight for the door, and I don’t expect her to acknowledge me, so I’m surprised when she stops.

“Kimiko…” The word is soft on my lips. “You can’t go.”

Her gaze is almost… pleading… for a moment, and then it gets hard again. “Why? Why can’t I go?” she demands to know.

I don’t say anything for a while, and the pleading look comes back again. “Just look at the fucking truth Sasuke. Tell yourself, and then tell me. I’m tired of waiting for you to open your damn eyes, and I’m not gonna sit around and force you to see things differently. Either you will, or you won’t.”

There’s a spark between us, and I’ve been mistaking the root of the friction. Maybe it’s deeper than I want to admit. I can’t just… I can’t just understand these things so easily though. This is the first moment that I’ve started to wonder at the meat of what’s really happening between us. She can’t expect me to make grand leaps in one day, can she?

Her tone is low–a mixture of defeat and anger. “I guess you won’t.”

She turns to go, and I can’t stand to see her turn away from me one more time, so I leap forward. My hand is gripping her elbow and I’m yanking until she’s facing me again. “I’ll be better…” The words just tumble from my lips–a promise so honest that I don’t get a chance to filter it at all. It just comes pouring right out of me. My brows have crinkled together and my lips have pulled down into the slightest of pouts.

To my surprise, she looks right past the look of vulnerability on my face… unless it’s not there… unless I’m so cold that I can’t even show it anymore. She scoffs at me, and it chips away at my core, and she says, “No you won’t.”

Just like that, she’s gone, as if she’d never been there in the first place.

For days, I wait for her to return. I amble around like a ghost. And even though it was like this before she ever came, I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s almost as if I never lived a life before her. The garden dies, and I run out of food, so I end up having to go into the village market to spend what little money I have to spend. I’ll have to take a mission to make more money now that I’ve let my delicate lifestyle slip. The balance is easy to break, and it forces me out of my solitude.

Time melts away, and I don’t know how long it’s been. I don’t know if I just miss her, but I see her at the market one day after an especially long mission. I’m stopping on my way home after getting paid, just to grab a few things, and I see her. I rush forward, and I grab her elbow, and I expect to be disturbing a stranger, but there she is. Her eyes don’t go half as wide as mine. Her heart doesn’t seem to be shooting off nearly as wildly as mine is.

We stare at each other for a long moment. Her brow arches expectantly, and then I ask, “Where have you–?”

“I’ve been around,” she says simply.

“Come home.” It’s a demand, but it’s soft. It’s new to me. I haven’t yet learned how to make it a question, but can she just give me credit for making it gentle?

There’s none of the vulnerability ripping out of me reflected in her eyes. She turns, she whispers, “Stay healthy,” and she walks away.

My heart feels as though it’s been ripped in two, but I quickly get a handle on that. I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want me. I stew on that thought for days. I wonder if that’s what she was thinking when she left too.

‘I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want me.’

To my surprise, I come home from a short mission a few days later to find her sitting on the back porch. Her bag is at her side as she sits in one of the rocking chairs sipping some tea. She could have easily let herself in–in fact, she did, when she went to make that tea–but she didn’t put her things away, as if she’s trying to make a gesture of it… or maybe she just doesn’t plan on staying.

I walk right up through the downtrodden garden and take a seat in the chair opposite her. I look sideways, but this time I turn my full head. I don’t try to catch a covert glance. I don’t try to hide that I’m looking her way. I just look, and I bury the shame I used to feel at being so openly drawn to her. She finally glances at me, and maybe she thinks the look in my eyes is pitiful, because she scoffs at me.

“Our garden looks horrible.”

My lips pull up at the corners. That’s all I need–just the intoned ‘we’ of it. Ourgarden looks terrible.

“I’ll be better,” I promise, and we both know by now that I’m not talking about the garden.

She murmurs around the lip of her teacup, “I know.”

[fluffyglass]

THE MR. FUSSY A BITCH MASTERPOST

I essentially remade the Mr. Rude apologism masterpost but with Mr. Fussy this time, in an attempt to see whether my newfound disliking of Mr. Fussy is justified or not. I've watched every single Mr. Fussy segment and determined whether he's an asshole or not, simple as that.

Season 1

Mr. Fussy is in 42 episodes in Season 1.

In 8 of these episodes does he do something wrong.

Season 2

Mr. Fussy is in 39 episodes in Season 2.

In 9 of these episodes does he do something wrong.

Conclusions

In total, Mr. Fussy did something wrong in 17 out of the 81 segments he's in, which is 20%. Counting the 7 I was unsure about, that's 23/81. 28%. Welp, that means I proved my point in doing this in the first place, I guess! It's official! Based off of my own data, Mr. Fussy is technically a bigger asshole than Mr. Rude!

Am I gonna do every single character? Probably.

Here, take my episode by episode analysis.

Welcome to the Episode by Episode analysis! Same colors as last time, minus blue as. Obviously he can't yell at himself.

Yellow - Mr. Fussy does nothing wrong

Red - Mr. Fussy does something wrong

Pink - I have no idea what to put for this one lmao

SEASON 1

Flying - He doesn't do anything wrong, he just wants to know if the pillow's clean. Even if he's a bit of a dick about it. Mr. Grumpy's the one who . yknow. kidnapped Mr. Bounce

Music - MR FUSSY A BITCH! He unfairly blamed Mr. Rude when Miss Naughty's the one who ruined the first performance :(

Physical - He doesn't do anything wrong, he was just judging the physical performance in his first bit and just participating in the relay race in his second bit

Farm - He doesn't do anything wrong he just got yeeted lmao

Lake - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Scatterbrain is just a moron

Beach - He doesn't do anything wrong, he just got justifiably mad at Mr. Scatterbrain for being a moron

Booboos - He doesn't do anything wrong, he just helped out Mr. Nervous with his splinter

Mall - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Messy is just gross

Books - fuck you Mr. Noisy

Camping - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! Why the fuck did you invite Miss Chatterbox if you wanted silence, you fuck? She legit just wanted to tell him that she saw the bird :(

Science - Mr. Fussy a bitch to the frogs smh

Paint - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Messy just isn't very considerate :(

Jobs - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Tickle a dumbass

Trains - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! Mr. Rude was literally just living his life you stuck up prick

Hobbies - MR. FUSSY a bit of a bitch? Like, he could've told Miss Naughty in advance that her performance was cancelled :( also he was a dick about it

Fair - he doesn't do anything wrong Miss Naughty's just a bitch

Movies - fuck you Mr. Noisy

Dance - he's barely in it and he's nice :)

Amusement Park - he doesn't do anything wrong he's just a dumbass

Rainy Day - he doesn't do anything wrong, even if he insulted Miss Calamity for no reason. He's just a bit of a dumbass

Dillydale Day - his only real crime is that terrible musical number he's in

Games - fuck you Mr. Noisy

Hotel - I love this bit so much holy fuck he doesn't do anything wrong also hes GAY and its AWESOME

Chores - he doesn't do anything wrong he's just like that

Snow - he doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Messy's just not very considerate

Food - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! He's mean to Mr. Messy :(

Wildlife - he doesn't do anything wrong, cause he didn't mean to call Mr. Messy a repulsive animal

Restaurants - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! I don't wanna rewatch this one it makes me sad :(

Bugs - he's barely in it and he loses his fucking moustache what the fuck

Circus - hes kinda mean to everyone but not enough for me to count it

Cars - I DONT EVEN KNOW MAN HE'S NOT REALLY BAD HE'S JUST FUCKING STUPID

Canned Goods - he's barely in it and just kinda. exists

Ships - he barely even does anything in the bit he has

Cooking - he doesn't do anything wrong ig

Collecting - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! He stole Mr. Messy's shoes and then destroyed his stuff cause he thought it was gross :(

Heatwave - he doesn't do anything wrong mr messy is just mr messy

Sleep - he doesn't do anything wrong

Carwash - I cant say for sure, I refuse to watch this segment again

Sightseeing - he doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Messy is just nasty. He's kind of a dick to him though

The Dark - I really don't know on this one. He's kinda mean throughout it but not enough to count but also i kinda wanna count it?? cause hes mean to mr messy a lot??? its weird, he also didnt let mr messy back into his house when he was scared :(

Parade - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! He made fun of both Mr. Rude and Mr. Messy's floats and made up a rule specifically against Mr. Messy which is super fucked up man

SEASON 2

Picnics - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Stubborn is just laughably stupid

Driving - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! He didn't want to help Miss Chatterbox and Mr. Tickle, and even tried to ignore Miss Scary and Mr. Quiet rather than help them :(

Outer Space - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! He asks Miss Scary and Miss Naughty "what's wrong with them" when they were just having fun, and doesn't believe them when the real aliens show up :(

Clean Teeth - does this even count as him being an asshole? like yeah he freaks out on Mr. Rude but he's kinda justified in doing it?? this shouldnt count as him being an asshole but I like mr. rude so. yeah, i'm biased. im not counting this one as mr fussy a bitch but im not giving it a yellow. like, he also calls him disgusting and is a dick the entire time but he's in the right so . ???????? he also calls mr messy gross at the end what am i supposed to do here

Airports - hes a bit of a dick but yeah he was gonna miss his flight thats justified

Shoes - he doesn't do anything wrong he's just trying his best

Arts and Crafts - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! He's mean to Mr. Strong and Mr. Messy, and even calls Mr. Messy's art junk :(

Game Shows - he doesn't do anything wrong, he even makes Mr. Happy a quilt :) Mr. Stubborn is just a fucking moron NEVERMIND MR FUSSY STOLE THE FUCKING QUILT BACK???? RUDE

Garages - he's actually really really nice in this bit!! :D he let Mr. Messy keep his bike in his garage and put off mopping his floor to hang out with Mr. Nosey and Mr. Small :)

Eyeglasses - he's barely in it and is fine ig

Toys - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! oh my fucking god he was doing so good and then right at the end he had to go and be a sore loser, call Mr. Messy disgusting, etc. fucker

Hats - he does nothing wrong, he just wants a hat

Robots - he just lost his bread man

Parties - another gay icon segment! hes pretty poggrs

Up and Down - hes barely in it and hes good

Dining Out - hes fine ig? kind of a dick but not especially so

Gifts - is his fucking birthday hell yea

Telephone - once again i refuse to watch it, i'm assuming he's fine

Seashore - he just vibed the entire time

Washing & Drying - he kinda just existed

Sneezes & Hiccups - yeah. he yells at mr messy for something he cant control but. yehjv

Radio - miss helpful you dumbass

Supermarket - he just wanted some cereal man

Cinema - dude a bunch of gay men invaded his car

Getting Around - yeah

Pets - im getting tired of writing notes hes good ig

Dance Dance Dance - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! for one, he's mean to Mr. Rude the entire time, for two, he completely fucking drags Miss Scary's performance the entire time, and for three - he talks through it the entire time! fucker!!!

Library - just wanted his book man

Pirates - yeah

Goo - Miss Naughty you fucking bitch fucjk you fucky ou fuck you! FUCK YOU!!!!

Trains and Planes - he's kind of dickish but otherwise fine

Lunch - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! For one, why the fuck did you invite Mr. Messy if you didn't want "messiness" at your pristine fucking picnic, why the fuck did you invite Miss Chatterbox if you didn't want her talking, etc, but he's also very ignorant of Mr. Quiet's warnings of the bear ):(

Machines - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BUY MR. MESSY A MACHINE THAT CLEANS HIS HOUSE??? AGAINST HIS WISHES??? AND HE FUCKING SPECIFICALLY ASKS TO GET IT OUT BUT YOU DONT FUCKING LISTEN AND PROCEED TO CRITICISE HIM??? IT'S HIS FUCKING SPACE, FOR ONE, AND YOU KNOW CLEANLINESS MAKES HIM UNCOMFORTABLE! YOU FUCK! im so fucking mad

Birds - he doesn't do anything wrong he gets fucking yeeted

Bath and Bubbles - this is the only Mr. Fussy bit where he's actually happy at the end and yknow what? boyboss moment

Sand and Surf - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! I know this is a trend but yes, he's a dick to Mr. Quiet and ignores everything he says.

Parks - MR. FUSSY A BITCH! He spends the entire segment bullying Mr. Messy and I am tired of it

Travel - hes kinda dickish the entire time but mmmmmyeah

Bad Weather - i didnt want to watch this one again cause it sucks, i'm assuming he's fine

If you've read to the bottom, then I'm sure you're actually interested in what I have to say about him/the other mr men and little misses. Because I'm definitely going to be doing more of these, please acknowledge going forward that I am one, singular teenager. A teenager susceptible to my own bias, especially when it comes to some of the "negative" characters. Don't take my percentages and data too seriously, as it's all technically based off of my opinions of each segment. Ok bye bye Mr. Noisy's next