#and YOU'RE the one who drew this INFAMOUS DRAWING???

[seeking-elsewhither]

kitty-i-swear-to-gosh

Hugs for the grumpy

[justwinginglife]

The Waiting Game

The line between friends and lovers is dangerously thin and Soshiro Hoshina likes to fucking cartwheel down that tightrope like it's his personal plaything.

Any stranger walking by could see he was clearly checking you out, but if asked, he'd simply shrug and say something about how it was his duty as your friend to make sure your fly was zipped or your socks were matching. He never thought to make himself less obvious as he took in the sight of your shirt that dangled just a little too low or your pants that hugged your curves just a little too tight. He didn't have to. If you claimed to notice his wandering gaze, you'd be setting yourself up for a witty rebuttal. He might say, "Oh, look who's paying so much attention to me, if I didn't know better, I'd say you liked me," or even, "Don't go telling me you didn't wear those clothes on purpose, we both know the truth." He had all sorts of banter at the ready, quips locked and loaded. He wanted to corner you, to checkmate you, to coax a confession from your supple lips. Of course he loved you. But it was much more fun to make you admit you loved him too.

And you did. You wore that shirt on purpose, you wore those pants on purpose. You bent over in those pants on purpose. But two could play at this game, and you were awfully good at chess.

If he was a tightrope walker, you were a sword swallower. You could take anything he'd throw at you, gulp it down, lick your lips, and have room for seconds. Maybe throw in a burp for good measure.

So the circus act continued, both of you juggling offense and defense, both of you thinking yourself the lion tamer. It was anyone's guess at this point, who would cave in first.

You pictured the two of you on your deathbeds, your hands wrinkled with age, still trying to wring a confession from each other's throats. It was honestly a terrifying notion, thinking that eighty years from now, your feelings might accompany you to the grave, unvoiced, unreciprocated. But it hadn't been eighty years yet, it had only been one, and your pride was still in prime condition, even despite Soshiro's attempts to wear it down.

When he bragged to you about his hot date, eager for your reaction, you simply pointed him to your favorite flower shop and told him what to buy her. When he ended up not going through with it because some mysterious illness overtook him, an illness that only lasted the length of what would have been the date, you simply smirked and remarked on how convenient it was that his condition was so particular. He had shrugged, saying, "Maybe I was allergic to her, who knows?" You had laughed and he had smiled. Then you both went about your usual day, stealing time from each other whenever you could, sneaking glances, subtly inching closer, the distance both an inch and a galaxy apart.

The gap only widened when Captain Ashiro relayed to the Third Division news of the Winter Ball. It was like prom for soldiers, and when you heard the announcement, you felt like you were right back in high school- everything infamously familiar, right down to the nerves that threatened to swallow you whole.

You could always pull the, "You're single, I'm single, let's go as friends," card. But you weren't sure that either of you would be content with that resolution. Neither one of you wanted to resign yourselves to a night of awkwardly sitting at a side table, using small talk to fill the simmering silence, as you watched other couples slow dance their way into oblivion.

But unfortunately for the both of you, rather than declare a draw, your little game with each other continued, even as the event drew nearer. You'd ask him who he was going with, feigning nonchalance, and he'd dodge the question, feigning ignorance.

At some point, you bought yourself a dress, though you had no idea why. There was only a week to go, and still, no one had asked you for the pleasure of your company on that night, not even him. You weren't sure you should even go. But still, you let your hopes drape from a hanger in your closet, in case maybe he decided to overturn the chessboard, throw the match, ask you out.

Narumi beat him to the punch.

When you asked him why he was asking you so late in the game, he merely shrugged, saying he hadn't realized the ball was happening in the first place, but now he knew and he wanted you.

Soshiro had caught wind of it.

He ignored you until an hour before the dance.

He knew you liked to hide on the roof when you got nervous, and as he climbed the stairs to the top, he begged you to be there. He hoped you were having second thoughts about going with Narumi. He hoped you were pacing in your dress, waiting for him to whisk you away, because he was ready to whisk you away. He had dragged his feet through this whole fucking charade, and now he suddenly found his own pace too exceedingly, disgustingly slow for his liking.

When he got to the roof, all that awaited him was a cold breeze and the night sky. He collapsed on the floor, leaning back to take in all the stars. He didn't care anymore if he got his suit dirty, he only wore it for you anyway. His finger traced patterns of constellations as the white of his breath stained the air. He wished on every single star that he could see you tonight, all dressed up and gorgeous. He didn't have to see you to know you looked stunning. But he had planned to go home after he finished this sulking session. He didn't want to see how happy you looked with Narumi. Of all the people, why did it have to be him? The idea of you with anyone else but him made him ache, but the idea of you with Narumi made him want to tie a noose around his neck.

Another half hour of brooding later, he decided he needed to go home. That, or freeze to death, which would serve him right. But he turned towards the door and suddenly, there you were, his light in the dark, his warmth in the cold. And you were dazzling. He knew you would be. You always were, no matter what you were wearing.

"Y-you're here."

You nodded. "I'm here. And you're here. Why are you here?"

He pulled his jacket tighter around him. "This is your spot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. Were you looking for me?" You tried to keep the hopefulness out of your voice, but it seeped into the frosty air all the same.

He fidgeted with his cufflinks, nodding slowly.

You began walking over to him, and he knew you were going to sit down so he quickly took his jacket off for you to sit on. He didn't want to ruin your dress.

You shook your head at him. "You look freezing, put your jacket back on. How long have you been out here anyway?" You threw his jacket back around his shoulders, plopping down next to him, unbothered by your dress.

He blushed and looked away. "That's not important."

The silence resumed.

"It's your favorite color." You blurted out suddenly, desperate to fill the air with something, with anything.

He immediately knew you meant your dress. He had noticed. "It's nice."

You coughed.

He chuckled. "Alright, it's more than nice. You look breathtaking. Seriously, I'm having trouble breathing with you so close to me." He teased as he nudged you with his shoulder, trying to make light of the awkward situation.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Even for someone who's half frozen to death. So why were you looking for me?"

He bit his lip. "Had a, uh, question... for you."

You settled your head on his shoulder and you felt him tense up. "And what's this question of yours that's so important you almost gave yourself frostbite?"

"Will you.... will you go to the dance with me?" He held his breath as the words left his mouth.

You laughed. "Little late, don't you think? We're about a half hour away from it."

He groaned. "I know, I know. But don't go with Narumi. Please don't. He wouldn't know romance if it shit in his lap. He doesn't know how to treat a woman."

You smirked. "And you do?"

He looked at you properly for the first time that night, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden sense of determination. "Yes, I do. If that woman is you. I know everything about you. I have to. Knowing you is the second greatest pleasure of my life."

"And..." The words caught in your throat, "And what's the first?"

"Loving you."

Your heart soared in your chest. "I love you too."

"So will you be my date to the dance? And the rest of my life?"

You kissed him in response.

Suddenly the cold faded from your bodies, the frigid air rescinding itself from your lungs, as your warmth intermingled in a display of passion.

"So, what should I call this, checkmate?" You teased him as you pulled away from his lips, leaving him wanting more.

He rolled his eyes but nothing could make him less smitten than he was right now. "I call this me throwing the match."

"Well, better late than never, baby."

You kissed him again.

And then the both of you danced the rest of the night into oblivion together.

[buckets-and-trees]

SALT (Bucky x Reader)

Characters/Pairings: mostly-dark!mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2.8k  Summary: True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You've risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you're rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is someone equally as relentless to get what he wants.

Content Warnings: power imbalance; bribery; workplace manipulation; explicit language; NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT; explicit smut: risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, non-graphic cream pie (not the food kind)

Additional Notes: Written for @the-slumberparty's April Mob AU challenge. Using dark prompt #23 (bolded in the dialogue).

tagging some peeps who showed interest in the preview for this little thing: @sidepartskinnyjeans @vonalyn @winterslove1917

“You’re not serious, Stanley.”

“I am.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t have time for customer meet and greets during a normal service, let alone tonight of all nights.”

“You will do it,” Stanley insisted, “because it’s James Barnes and he’s got more money and influence than any god. He owns the mob scene in this town.”

When your maître d’ didn’t say anything more, you turned to truly look at him. 

You frowned but set down your pan with a huff. “Fine. Charlie, take over while I apparently go make an appearance.”

“Table twenty-seven,” Stanley said, handing you a clean dish towel, which you pressed against your forehead, cheeks, and neck as you headed for the door that led from kitchen to dining area, tossing the towel in the laundry bin under one of the counters. 

You pushed past the kitchen doors and walked through the dining room towards table twenty-seven, one of the handful booths and tables nestled in small alcoves that offered a little more privacy for VIP reservations, set off on a small dais with walls of green plants strategically placed to create ambience while sectioning off the area from curious eyes and a plethora of potential phone cameras. 

There were five individuals seated around the table, but he drew your attention first as you approached. He clocked your progress before any of his companions, and when he looked up, his stare fixed on you with such intensity that you took a brief pause before your next step, which he clearly noted, and the corner of his mouth ticked up in the slightest smirk. It made your blood heat with irritation, but you focused on remaining calm and professional as you stepped up to the table. 

“This was an exquisite meal, Chef,” he said, drawing the attention of his companions to you immediately.

“Thank you,” you replied. 

“Sam here hasn’t been able to shut up about it since the first course came out,” a blonde man sitting to his right said. 

“And you haven’t left even a crumb on your plate through any course, Steve,” he chided back good naturedly. 

Each of them had a girl tucked in next to them, but not the man with dark hair and steel blue eyes you still found it difficult to look away from who had to be the infamous James. His friends and their companions continued to rave for another minute or two about different parts of the meal’s courses. You expected them to be closer to the age of your parents, not much nearer yours. 

“Well, thank you again,” you finally said. “We’re pleased to have you dining at our restaurant tonight. Devour is a dream for all of us on the staff. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen to oversee final preparations for the dessert course.”

“I’m eager for what’s to come next, Chef,” he said, looking you up and down, his eyes darkening. You’d delivered the overture for your exit, but he somehow made it clear it was only with his approval that you would leave in that moment. 

Twenty minutes later, you sprinkled a touch of flaky salt over the ribbon of whiskey-laced caramel drizzled over the chocolate mousse, Charlie adorned it with a perfect rosette of the Chantilly cream, and you slid the final plate across to Stanley, who put it on the final tray and sent the waiter on his way. 

“That’s service, everyone!” you announced, and some of the staff clapped and whooped. 

You smiled, truly satisfied. Charlie bumped elbows with you, and when you turned your head to look at him, you couldn’t help the genuine smile bursting across your face. 

“Truly a triumph for you taking over,” Stanley said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’ve more than earned your new title as the executive chef of Devour and this kitch–“

He was cut off as there was a burst of activity at the doors coming in from the dining room. “Everyone, clear the kitchen! Out the back, please,” came a booming voice that you’d heard speak much more congenially earlier in the dining room. It was clear this man was used to giving orders and having them followed without question. 

“Excuse me,” Stanley turned to look, but on seeing who was sweeping in and ushering his staff out before him, but his tone shifted when he saw who was giving the orders – now guarded but polite, “Oh, Mr. Rogers.”

“And if I could have a word with you in particular,” Steve said, addressing Stanley and nodding towards the back. 

“Of course,” he responded.

You and Stanley exchanged a glance, and you began clearing out with the rest, but Steve put a hand on your shoulder. “Not you,” he said a little more quietly. “You stay here.”

You frowned and tilted your head as you looked up at him. He only smirked at you. 

“The rest of you, keep it moving, let’s go!”

You chewed on your bottom lip and let your hand drop to the silver surface of the counter where your fingers immediately began to drum impatiently. After a moment you turned to look over at the door to the dining room, and your breath hitched. 

He was there, leaning up against the door frame, blue eyes fixed on you. 

His face was unreadable, and so you tried to keep your face blank as well as he stalked toward you, coming around the plating area and to your side of the counter. 

“What is this, Mr. Barnes?”

“I’m buying this restaurant. Steve’s arranging everything with Stanley right now.”

Your brow furrowed.

“I own this kitchen, and I own you, Chef.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he put two fingers to your lips. 

“I’m tripling your salary,” he said as he stepped right into your space, backing you up against the counter, only a breath of space between you. 

Your heart was racing for too many reasons – anger, incredulity, but also a thrill of arousal. You wanted to refuse him, but he also drew you in, and you could not deny that. You knew he was dangerous, you were infuriated by his audacity, and yet��

“You can’t turn down an offer like that,” he continued, “especially not after the years of hard work I know you put in for the executive chef apron in this kitchen. Our stories are not so different in that way. You earned this. You won’t walk away.” 

“I can–“

“But you won’t,” he cut over you. You glowered, but he ignored your slow burning anger and instead reached around behind your back to tug at the ties of your apron. Then his voice dropped down an octave as he spoke again, “Don’t fight me. You will give yourself to me.”

“I won’t.” You cocked your chin up.

“You will,” he insisted. He pulled the black apron away from your body and tossed it onto the counter behind you.

“You will give yourself to me now.” He pushed forward, pinning you to the counter with his pelvis. You tried to suppress a shaky exhale, feeling his erection pressing into you.  “Soon you will warm my bed,” he bent his head down to ghost a kiss at your temple, then another on your cheek, before he moved his mouth further down and murmured his next threat down the column of your throat, “and I promise it won’t be long until you will beg for me to take you apart without any coercion.”

When his tongue darted out over the sensitive spot just under your jaw, a whimper escaped from your chest before you could stop it, and you felt him smile against your skin. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please, anyone could catch us.”

He chuckled. “Sam and Steve are preventing that,” he said, pulling away just enough to start unbuttoning your black chef’s jacket. “But,” he continued, “if you make too much noise, you’ll confirm that we’re doing anything more than talking.” 

Once he had finished with all the buttons, he pushed the coat open. Your eyes were still closed until you felt the cool edge of a knife on your sternum, and your eyes burst open again, fear and adrenaline rushing through your body, but luckily he wasn’t looking at your face, focused instead on your chest where his metal fingers skimmed lightly over the bared skin for just a moment before they gripped the fabric of your black camisole and bra while his other hand tore his knife down in a swift movement, splitting your undergarments down the middle, putting your chest on full display for his hungry eyes. He pushed the clothing out of the way fully only over your left shoulder. 

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes again. “Dessert was exquisite, but it didn’t satisfy what I wanted.”

He reached for a nearby saucepan, which still had a ladle in it, and smiled as he gave it a stir. You watched as he took a scoop of the caramel sauce and poured a little over the round swell of your breast. It was warm, and started to slowly spread, but not enough to drip and make a mess. You imagined in his line of work, he knew how to be precise, not leave anything extra to clean up. He set the pan back down on the counter, and then reached for something else, returning with a pinch of the flaky salt that he then sprinkled over the caramel. 

For a moment he merely admired his handiwork. then his warm hand came up to cup the underside of your breast, and then his mouth descended to lap up the salted caramel from your tender flesh. Heat bloomed across your chest and straight to your head and your core, his ministrations eliciting a low moan from you. He hummed in approval, then took your nipple into his mouth. Your nipples were always very sensitive, and he was not careful with his attention there, sucking, nipping, and licking until you whimpered and tried to push him away. He kept mouthing painfully at your nipple another moment longer. 

He leaned back for a moment to look own at you, scrutinizing your face. You were not sure what he saw there, truthfully you didn’t know how to feel and what front to put up, but whatever he assessed didn’t deter him. 

He lifted one hand to your neck and then trailed the back of his fingers down your sternum, between your breasts, over your stomach, a light touch that wasn’t rushed, knowing he could draw a shiver of anticipation from you with the purposeful action. He unbuttoned your pants, and as he slipped his hand into your panties and cupped your mound, he leaned in close to your ear and softly said, “You earned this, too, Chef.”

His fingers sought your folds. “And you are wet for me.” You didn’t need to see his face to imagine the satisfaction that must be there – it was evident in his tone. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear. “Close like this,” he whispered, “I’ll still hear even the small pretty noises I’m going to draw from you with my fingers in your cunt.”

And even though you were expecting it – dreading it? – you gasped when he quickly thrust two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, and moved them expertly in and out of your tight heat, questing and quickly finding the sensitive spongy spot on the front of your pelvic wall. You bit your lip to keep keening as quiet as you could, and your arms gripped his biceps, looking for an anchor to reality. He played your pussy quickly, nimble and knowing fingers familiarizing themselves too easily with your body for your comfort. 

His thumb went to work expertly drawing tight circles over your clit, still thrusting his fingers inside you, and the additional stimulation forced you into an intense orgasm you didn’t want to give him, burrowing your face into his neck to smother your small cry of ecstasy. 

You didn’t want to see his face – undoubtedly haughty knowing he’s pleased you despite you wanting to refuse him the satisfaction – and in this you are spared at least for the moment as without pretense he abruptly spins you around and tugs your pants and underwear down your thighs. You heard the quick unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his pants as he freed his hard length. You had only a second to brace yourself against the countertop as he gripped your hip with one hand and used his other to guide his tip to your thoroughly slick and ready opening. One full and quick thrust had him fully sheathed inside you, punching the air from your lungs. He leaned forward against your back, his mouth close to your ear again. “Feel me in there? Stretching you to the limit.” 

He rolled his hips ever so slightly, slowly, and your head fell back against his shoulder.

“Yes, Chef. Just like that.”

He pulled his hips back, then gave another slow and powerful drive into your cunt. “Feel as smooth and velvety around my cock as that caramel sauce was on my tongue.” While one hand remained on your hip, as he began to pick up the pace with his thrusts his other hand brushed up your spine, then moved around to grasp your breast, the one he’d overstimulated just a few minutes before. You whimpered and tried to jerk away, but you’re met with his strong chest up against your back. He chuckled and then began to tweak and roll the nipple between his fingers. 

You tried to pull his hand away, still whimpering. 

“I intend to leave you feeling me for days from this, Chef,” he growls in your ear. His thrusts become rougher, faster, slamming into you over and over again. Your hands pulled at his wrist torturing your nipple, but your strength was nothing to his, and soon tears were spilling down your cheeks. When an audible sob escaped your throat, he finally relented and released your breast, but then he gripped your hips with both hands, showing no mercy for your pussy as he chased his own pleasure. 

Without the pain, your body focused only on the pleasure mounting in your core now. This felt good. He felt good. His cock filled you exquisitely. You tried to rock your hips just slightly to where you know he’d hit that pleasurable spot in you again, but he controlled the movement and forced you to stay at the angle he wanted. 

“This one is for me, Chef, not you,” he grunted. 

Still, you pant together, lungs heaving, and you’re hurtling toward another orgasm. His hips stutter for a moment, and with a groan he releases his spend inside you, slowing his movements. 

You couldn’t hold back a needy whine as he pulled out of you. You looked over your shoulder at him incredulously, edged to the very moment before but then denied your second release. 

He paused after tucking his softening cock back into his boxer briefs and gripped your chin, demanding an abrasive kiss from your lips. “When you come apart on my cock, I want to watch your beautiful face and hear you beg for me.”

Years in the kitchen have taught you to hold back your words when there’s even a shade of uncertainty, and you are uncertain if you will give him what he wants or not, because you can’t deny that your body absolutely wants him, and part of your spirit does, too. Relentless power recognizing another like its own, and you hate that you’re more than a little intrigued. You don’t want to just give him what he wants, but a tiny sliver of you whispers that you shouldn’t cut off your nose just to spite him. 

You pulled up your pants while you heard him zip and buckle his own pants again. One he had tucked in his shirt, again with swift precision, he turned you back around to face him. He reached for your apron, wiped his hands, then set it back on the counter. He didn’t mess with your torn shirt and bra other than to adjust them well enough so he could close your chef coat and button that back up over your chest. 

He gazed right into your eyes again, brushing his thumb over your lips, parting them slightly, then pushing them closed again. 

“I’ll be back for more soon,” he finally said, then walked away without another word. 

LINK TO PART TWO: FAT

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[honeycreammilkshake]

Hey so idk if you know about this, but in Japan the politicians are going ham on trying to get BL and GL censored and illegal (???)

And with how gege likes bl, gl, and a lot of queer romances in general, do you think if he didnt play it safe, sukuita would have been canon?

i think i've read about the recent backlash on yaoi/yuri/etc in japan. and i'm really happy gege came out in support of queer series. i feel like it means a lot that they did that.

i also have a feeling that gege knew exactly what they were doing when they made sukuna and yuuji so shippable, but i'm also sure that jjk being a shounen would have prevented sukuita from being canon either way, only because then the series would technically be classified as yaoi or bl instead. and since this was marketed as shounen, it's highly unlikely that the publishers will allow it turn into bl (especially now that there's more censorship of yaoi).

however, gege still (so unsubtly) went out of their way to give us some of the most bl-looking scenes between yuuji and sukuna.

i mean just look at this!!! sukuna is like some kind of lovesick kitten, trailing after yuuji the whole time, yet insisting he's nothing more than an intimacy-hating stray who can't stand any kind of closeness or warmth. but if that's the case, why cling so much to yuuji, who (may i remind you) was the only guy to treat sukuna as human??? i don't know, kinda looks like you're a bit needy for that affection, sukuna.

then there's them constantly taunting each other like boyfriends that can't stop being competitive for one moment. (over the literal smallest of stuff, too. you know the infamous king of curses couldn't care less what kind of crayfish he got if he wasn't with yuuji... he constantly has to show us - so painfully unsubtle - just how much yuuji gets to him.)

but at least he gets to one-up yuuji during archery... though of course the brat isn't as impressed as he should be. (you can just sense the hurt pride dripping off of sukuna's words after yuuji said playing with him wasn't enticing.)

i mean, this whole chapter just made me feel like sukuna is like those tsundere guys in yaoi who can't tolerate having feelings for the cute protagonist everyone loves, so they have to be as edgy-looking and rude as possible whenever their crush comes around. (and then their crush is just 10x nicer to them because of it, which only makes them even more insecure and angry.)

sukuna, it looks like you're repressing lots...

... especially with whatever you got going on here—

(do you think gege drew this with a nosebleed?)

and just when you thought it couldn't get any gayer... these two are pretty much canonical soulmates whose fates have been chained together since before they even met.

(i think i'm noticing a trend with how gege draws them like this —back to back, two parts of a matched set, all but fused together.)

it reminds me of those yaoi manga where the protagonist becomes an unwilling (at first) bride to the monster guy everyone else hates but then slowly starts falling in love with him despite everything because oh maybe he isn't so evil after all.

and though the most recent chapter have really made it seem like yuuji has been pursuing sukuna in this way, let's not forget that sukuna was also the biggest flirt with yuuji before all the feelings hit him far too hard.

sukuna, you've known yuuji for only a few days and you're already feeling up his heart? isn't that usually not until the 3rd or 4th date?

so he does something like that but then has the nerve to act all coy with yuuji later on...

"it's annoying" he says but he's smiling. he looks almost excited. (yes, we know you like yuuji looking up at you without permission, sukuna, we get it already. you don't have to spell it out for us so obviously.)

and yuuji, honey, you know he's into that, right? stop falling for his thinly-veiled traps; you know he loves to bait you like this, you're just feeding his ego. (and also i can't forget to mention just how frustrated sukuna gets when yuuji does ignore him!)

oh and remember that fighting is how sukuita flirts, just in case you didn't pick up on that already.

they look so excited to be doing this right now — yuuji's unhinged grin, sukuna's "fight me" eyes... (mappa, it's a crime that you didn't animate this ;-;)

i'm crying, they could have done comedy together.

also... why are they grinning at each other like this?

sukuna's sitting on top of you, yuuji so why are you looking up at him with that completely unhinged look on your face? (i would say get a room but isn't that what innate domains more or less are?)

and again. if we didn't understand it perfectly well enough already, gege doesn't want us to forget that sukuna just loves it when yuuji fights back.

just look at his feral grin at the idea of yuuji trying to take him on... he loves messing with this brat.

and although sukuna and yuuji are never officially married, the fate they're forced to is almost exactly just that. in sickness and in health (mostly sickness) they are bound to each other, and only death does them part.

crazy how they got divorced TWO times...

.... yet they still can't escape whatever threads them together

even if it's not explicitly stated, it's still heavily implied that yuuji was the one to set sukuna on this different path, to remind him of whatever humanity he had left.

he was the one to connect with sukuna as the king of curses was dying.

to hold him gently and remind him that the monster he is was a matter of chance, that they could have shared that same curse if yuuji hadn't had his grandfather to provide him the fulfillment he needed while sukuna didn't have that in his own life.

to even propose that they could live together, even if he alone would accept such a thing.

it's like something straight out of a doomed romance story. i've never seen such romantic dialogue even in actual bl romance.

and if the heartbreakingly, over the top romantic dialogue wasn't enough, this is their official art, too:

like does any of this look straight to you? (also sukuna can't stop trying to get his hands all over yuuji, it's insane.)

i think it's pretty clear that sukuita is essentially canon already. and short of gege drawing them violently making out with each other (which, technically, that's what fighting is like for them) that crazy one-eyed cat made it nearly transparent that sukuita is actually a thing.

gege, you're THE shipper. to think they got away with inserting the most wonderfully messed up and fascinating yaoi story into a shounen series about a boy who literally sticks his enemy's fingers in his mouth is just crazy.

[sophieinwonderland]

More on DNIs, and examples of why I hate them!

The DNI has become a weapon for bigots to harm marginalized communities. It has the illusion of setting a boundary, but in reality is meant to just give them a free pass for spreading hate and misinformation.

DNIs While Invading Spaces That Aren't Yours

As I've discussed before, the "plural" label is inherently inclusive. It was coined and popularized by nondisordered and endogenic systems.

But some have seen fit to try to take inclusive spaces from us and drive us out of the spaces we've built for ourselves. One such example is @illusions11, or the Lemon System.

They were an Aspenvader who came to Tumblr from Aspen's server with the express intent of trying to take our community from us and driving us out.

Lemon since had a falling out with Aspen, and blames Aspen for their old account getting banned. It should be noted though that on that old account, IIRC, they reblogged the infamous post calling for endogenic systems to die, and have always been a hateful person. This was likely not the reason they were banned, since Brassy unfortunately wasn't banned for posting it, but their ban was likely justified.

They've been informed that the tags they post in are inclusive, but they hide behind a DNI whenever anyone points out that they're invading our spaces.

If they actually wanted endogenic systems to not interact, it would be pretty easy to simply not post in our tags and spaces. But they intentionally do so, knowing that these spaces are ours and always have been, with the intent on causing harm to endogenic systems and driving us off.

I've likened this in the past to breaking into somebody's home, drawing a circle in chalk, calling them rude names from the circle, and then accusing them of violating your boundaries if you step inside the circle they drew in your own home.

DNIs To Protect From Being Corrected When Spreading Misinformation

This brings us to @jabberwock-islanders who claimed endogenic systems never provide resources when they say there are studies supporting endogenic systems.

This is pretty clearly misinformation, if you have actually paid any attention to the endogenic community.

There's a huge document of studies into endogenic systems and related phenomena here:

I can point to so many examples of psychologists, with various phrasings, acknowledging that you can be plural without trauma. But linking to those will be pointless when dealing with somebody who refuses to even click on your links.

So I could point to the fact that Dr. Eric Yarbrough has acknowledged the existence of endogenic plurality in a book reviewed and published by the American Psychiatric Association. I could point to how the creators of the theory of structural dissociation have said it may be possible to have self-conscious dissociative parts without trauma. I could point to the ICD-11's DID entry referring to how multiple distinct personality states (a term it uses synonymously with dissociative identities) can be experienced without a disorder. I could point to the doctor behind the Stanford Tulpa Study discussing early results of their brain scans, and referring to tulpa systems as tulpa systems.

But what would be the point when someone is committed to ignorance and refuses to even read anything that proves them wrong?

For Jabberwock-Islanders, their DNI is a shield that says "I can spread any lies about you I want, no matter how harmful they'll be to you and people you care about, and if you try to even politely correct my malicious lies, you're breaking my boundaries."

Normalizing Queerphobic DNIs

This DNI list comes from @strand-hunters, who doesn't want queer people with "contradictory labels" to interact with them

In another post, they give an explanation of what they mean to someone who asked about it.

"If you're queer in a way I don't understand, you aren't allowed to interact with me."

Most of what I've focused on has been the endos DNI up until this point, but what I want to highlight here is how the Endos DNI helps normalize telling queer people and other marginalized communities to not interact, and treat that as a valid boundary.

If "Endos DNI" is a valid boundary, then why not "bi-lesbians"? And if Bi-lesbians DNI" is a valid boundary, why not just "lesbians?" Why not "queer people" in general?

Do we want a world where it's normalized to tell people not to interact with you based on their queer identities? Because this is where DNI culture will lead.

One person with a DNI is an annoyance. But entire communities where DNIs are a mainstays means mass ostracization for not just different systems, but various types of queer people who present differently from what gatekeepers deem acceptable.

So sincerely...

Fuck your DNIs!

I will not respect hateful DNIs! If I see a post spreading hate against a marginalized community, I'm going to fucking interact with it to correct lies and combat hate! (Maybe not through reblogs since that gives the hate more notes, but at least through screenshots and tagging as I'm doing here.)

DNIs be damned!

[kradeelav]

Hello Krad. You are a massive inspiration to me, and I have adored your art ever since stumbling across it a couple of months ago. I have a love for early 2000's media, and was wondering if you could talk a bit about how making art around FE9's time was like! I would love to be able to recreate the aesthetic of games from around the early 2000's, they just have a unique atmosphere to me that I really love. Thank you in advance.

oh wow, you are so very kind to say so, and so eloquently! ;_;

early 2000's... now that was a special time. i think the biggest difference is how utterly small the world felt back then, online. limited.

i read a good article recently how portal (and the infamous 'the cake is a lie' meme) percolated in a very specific time of the internet where people across the globe were just getting online in larger waves than the true diehard nerds and outcasts before, but it was still absurdly cozy. that meme went viral across the entire internet in a way that i truly don't think could ever happen again, since everyone was figuratively rubbing shoulders with each other - shoot, even 2010-era tumblr? i knew everyone in the main #fireemblem tag.

media limitations were remarkably similar - most teens had maybe seen all but two classic anime series before getting online, especially if you were out in the rural areas / on the east coast versus the west where the hot anime was being bootlegg'd before youtube was a thing. seeing a new series or getting your hands on the truly quality titles was more precious than diamonds. you were obsessed with the same show for genuine decades.

deviantART (where i was right before then) was a unique incubator similar to that - where young teens were getting influenced for the first time by art styles, resources and inspiration that their parents, teachers, and grandparents steeped in local visual traditions could not dream of. people arrived with very strikingly specific art styles you could tell who was raised in korea, russia, france, etc very easily - just as easily as you could tell who spent decades in ff7 fen versus naruto.

occasionally clumsy were those first attempts. but the drawings were genuine, and it was the next chapter in a very interesting visual dialogue between the old guard of illustrators (who only drew physically and were trained in local painting and inking traditions) and the new crop of teens hungry for the taste of dynamism and emotion they had seen in animanga. hungry to mix and match.

it was also truly a bridge from the tactile-first world to the digital-first world. nowadays like microplastics - you really can't go anywhere without running into a toy or trend or game or a drawing that hasn't been influenced to some degree by a dozen different other digital ideas before it reached you-the viewer.

in a way, since you're talking about recreating aesthetics, let's go back to the "limited" word.

limited is a good concept.

some of the best art i've seen consistently uses limitations. limitations of only using one medium, only using three default tools in your painting software (like dodge and burn since digital brushes were either crude or nonexistent). pull up programs like the Gimp (it's what I used back then for forum signatures and hasn't changed all that much) - limit yourself with specific tools of that era. look at isutoshi's hentai from about then (if that's within your bandwidth) and notice all the comic sans fonts everywhere-since nobody had gotten around to making specific manga fonts. limit yourself to being inspired by one or two artists from the 80's.

those limitations and patiently asking why (like you're doing now) will get you so very far ~

[paninicupcakke]

SolMed week day 6 🪖💉

Arrow🏹

(Theme: AU/Free day!)

(TW/CW: stalking, harassment, homophobia, bigoted town setting, Sniper is portrayed as a criminal)

(SmallTown AU context: Ludwig is a victim in an ongoing case in his rural town. Mundy stalks and harasses him as well as other townspeople. The bushman is an infamous fugitive who’s known for stealing, stalking and murdering farm animals. Jane is a rookie officer who recently moved into town to help the understaffed police department help catch Mundy. During the ongoing investigation, Jane and Ludwig both end up falling for each other. They both desperately try to hide their love affair in secrecy in order to maintain their public reputations.)

(Location: Ludwig's home)

(8:05PM)

"I appreciate the escort." Ludwig said to the officer walking by his side. Both men had recently been dropped off at the bus stop. They both walked on towards the doctor's home just around the corner. The street lights dimly illuminated the neighborhood's small cul-de-sac.

"I would've offered sooner, I've just been busy with another case." Jane replied while taking both hands out of his pockets. Both of the men’s fingers had brushed up against each other for a moment. Jane hesitantly drew his hand back. Ludwig normally would've done the same, however today he was feeling a bit bold. He reached his pinkie finger out and intertwined it with Jane's. The officer didn’t want this feeling to end but it had to for their safety.

"Do you have some kinda death wish Fritz? You know we can't be doing stuff like this outside." Jane muttered cautiously while drawing his hand back to his side. Ludwig's small grin had quickly faded. He let out a small sigh.

"You're right." Ludwig replied. Both men had suddenly flinched at the sound of a tree branch snapping just few feet away from them. Unfortunately, someone had been watching them. Jane immediately reached for his pistol. Swiftly pulling it out from his holster and aiming directly behind them. Scanning the bushes beside nearby for any more sudden movements.

"Let's hurry up and get you inside." Jane sternly insisted while placing one hand on the German's back. Quickly guiding him up the steps of his wooden porch. Ludwig ran up and frantically pulled out his house key from his bag. A sharp wooden arrow had suddenly flown it's way directly towards his head. Jane quickly grabbed onto Ludwig's shoulder and forcefully pulled him out of the way. The sharp arrow pierced it's way into the doctor's wooden door. Ludwig flinched and shrieked in terror. Jane swiftly aimed his loaded pistol towards the bushes nearby. He pulled the trigger twice into the bundle of leaves. Whoever was hidden in those bushes, had quickly fled the scene. Both men were left stunned and heavily panting. Ludwig began frantically unlocking the door and hurried inside. Jane lowered his gun and let out an angry groan while reaching over to grab the wooden arrow. Plucking it off the door and quickly rushing indoors. Jane quickly shut and locked the door behind him, glaring at the handmade arrow in his hands. Desperately wanting to snap it in half. He refrained from doing so and tossed the piece of evidence on the dining table nearby. Ludwig set down his work bag on the ground and took a moment to catch his breath. Clearly shaken up by the incident. Jane guided the man over to the sofa and sat beside him.

"Sheriff was right. That maggot has a target on your back." Jane sternly stated while gently rubbing the doctor's shoulder. Ludwig covered his face with one hand as he began to weep in distress. Jane took the doctor’s glasses off, gently folding and putting them on the coffee table beside them. He then pulled the man into a warm embrace. Ludwig took a few shaky deep breaths before speaking up again.

"H-he's probably still outside. He usually hides up in that tree out front. I-I’ve been meaning to cut it down, I’ve just been so busy.” Ludwig frantically explained while choking back tears. Jane continued rubbing the doctor's back, trying to comfort him the best he could. The officer let out a drawn out, saddened sigh. There was no way this poor man should have to cut down his own fruit tree because of some filthy fugitive.

“There’s no need for that. It’s that low life scum that needs to be dealt with.” Jane sternly said while reaching over to the coffee table beside them. He grabbed a nearby tissue box and handed it to Ludwig. The doctor quickly began cleaning himself up. Jane carefully set his gun on the coffee table.

“I’ll stay here tonight and guard the house. I refuse to leave you here alone after all that.” Jane firmly proclaimed. Ludwig let out a small sigh of relief. The doctor did not own any firearms himself, the only weapons he had available were all medical related. Having an armed guard certainly gave him some peace of mind.

“Danke.” Ludwig managed to say before sniffling again. He cleaned himself with a tissue before reaching out for another hug. Desperately yearning for any form of comfort during this ongoing, stressful situation. Jane wrapped his arms around him. Lightly squeezing him while rubbing his back.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up and get some rest? I’ll be on the lookout.” Jane suggested.

“Ja, I could use a shower.” Ludwig said before slowly standing up from the sofa. He grabbed his glasses from the table and put them back on. The doctor began walking over towards his bathroom but froze in his tracks. His mind wouldn’t stop racing, he refused to be alone any longer than he had to be. He spun around, glancing over at the officer.

“Care to join me?” Ludwig asked while tilting his head slightly. Jane was caught off guard by that sudden question. This wasn’t the first time they had bathed together but it certainly sounded pleasant at the moment.

“Sure.” Jane replied eagerly. He swiftly grabbed his gun and put it back into his holster. Jane quickly stood up from the sofa and followed the doctor over to his bathroom. Jane was hoping to make this night a bit less restless and stressful for the overworked doctor.

[clarktooncrossing]

DUDELZ of the Damned | Rosie of the Jungle, Pt. 1

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK!

A chill is in the air. You can feel it can't you? Perhaps you even recognize it. That same chill arrives every year right on the dot. With it comes a frightful howl in the moonlight, the only other sound to be heard. Otherwise there is a strange calmness settling around you, like the point of ease before the storm. By now the howling has stopped. It has been replaced by a different sound. Footsteps. Big, heavy, dragging, as if the figure didn't quite know how to use their legs. Perhaps it's a random passerby. Perhaps it's a rotting, frightful feature freshly risen from the grave. Perhaps it's some other, unspeakable horror waiting to pounce! Whatever it is, you're not waiting around to find out! Yet no matter how far you run, it can't be escaped. The chill in the air, the howling of the wind, the heavy footsteps, it all leads back to one thing: October is here! And with it comes the return of the DUDELZ of the Damned!

Yes weirdos, like last year, my approximation of Sketchtober has returned. I call it an proxy because there was no list of prompts. Nah, that'd be too limiting. This is yet another case where I compiled my own list of ideas, sketched them out, then used one color per picture. With all that said, let's see what spoopy scribblings await us today!

Legend says there is an ancient city hidden deep within the jungle of Africa. Many have ventured deep into the wilderness to find it, but seldom have come back successful. Or alive. This fabled city and all of its riches is at risk to becoming lost to time. Unless Rosie Stardust can find it first! Finding herself on Earth-618, the cosmic cutie becomes acquainted with a naval merchant named Paul D'Arnot, who tells her of the infamous civilization the locals call Opar. Never one to shy away from a challenge, or the chance to discover something new, the sentient spacial-anomaly tasks herself with finding the jungle's last hidden treasure. After she dresses for the trip, of course. Luckily this world is still stuck in the late 1800s, meaning she's sporting the trendiest dresses coming out of London. Luckier still, Rosie is able to befriend most creatures she encounters, so the local animals are more than willing to help. One baby baboon quickly grows to liking the Cosmic Cutie.

Needless to say, Rosie has an easier time traversing Africa than Jane Porter did. This sketch idea came about after my friend @burningthrucelluloid watched Tarzan earlier this year. He was providing commentary over on my Discord server and it got me to watch the movie again. I say, as if I needed an excuse. Disney's take on this classic story is easily one of my all-time favorite films. It features amazing animation, a sensational soundtrack, doesn't treat the gorillas like savage monsters, makes its lead hero more compelling than he's ever been, and their version of Jane Porter is hot. She's brainy, competent, managed to teach a man with no English how to speak it fluently in like a week, and voiced by Minnie Driver in her prime. You might think that's why I drew Rosie in this outfit, but really it was the realization that her curious nature and kind spirit would mean she'd get along swimmingly with the cosmic cutie. From there the image of Rosie in Jane's dress refused to leave my mind, so here we are. Actually this was my second attempt at putting this idea on paper. My first draft turned out great, save for Rosie's arms. She was meant to be holding the baboon in awe while the furry rascal looked on in confusion. Upon rewatching the movie it dawned on me that having the monkey draw the lady would be a funny reversal of roles. Either way, happy 25th anniversary to this fantastic film! I hope you all enjoy this sketch. And remember: be kind to baboons. They usually roll with backup.

BONUS QUESTION: Are you a fan of Disney's Tarzan?

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

[rosehippiefield]

For the fandom ask game: 3, 13, and 15? (Yttd and/or ace attorney)

I'll do yttd first and then ace attorney

3. a character that fandom has helped you appreciate

It's certainly Midori. I didn't really get his appeal initially but several posts along with some YouTubers convinced me that his character is interesting. For me he's the mad sadistic scientist combined with childish desire to play, except he plays with people. Not in normal way but like with toys. I used to think he's not that intimidating or scary but looking back to how he made everyone sign the contract and how he influenced Shin Midori can be terrifying. The fanarts really capture his playful madness or his unhealthy obsession with Shin. Overall I feel like I have a better grasp on his personality though of course I still can be wrong about him

(I also really hated Shin at first but that's due to my peculiar style of experiencing yttd where at first I thought he was Midori and I didn't watch playthroughs fully so I actually had little idea what was going on in this game. It was fun being so wrong. But analysis of many people showed me that not only he wasn't with kidnappers, he had reasons I could get behind. So hatred was very short-lived)

13. your favorite type of fandom event (gift exchange, ship week, secret santa, prompt meme, etc)

I really love the draw it in your style events! Everyone makes their own spin on the original art so the little details here and there from different people are fun to notice. Everyone, absolutely everyone adds something interesting, something that makes their fanart unique, while capturing the initial idea. And I like your fanarts there too of course!

I also adore the whiteboards! They create a special, warm sense of unity where you can contribute too. And you can stay anonymous if you want to. I even drew Kanna and Nao once, though as I drew with touchpad of all things it was kinda difficult

15. the character that always makes you smile

Sometimes it's Kanna because she's so sweet and innocent and kind I just want her to be happy. And I kinda relate to her.

Also, maybe not always but quite often Shin can really brighten my mood. Not only do I relate to him in many ways, he became my inspiration to become better. Like I don't know if I sound melodramatic but one time I was thinking about his infamous zero and why he, the smart guy, had no chance to survive. I thought how he manifested his zero into life by believing in it while not believing in himself. I thought about how if he would have been more confident he could have avoided the mess he created at least partially. If only he loved himself more... Suddenly it occurred to me that it was exactly what *I* needed. To not bring myself down, to not overthink what I did wrong, to not compare myself with others. To respect myself for who I am. I imagined that Shin was saying to me "don't hate yourself" and "love yourself" and it hit me. This guy has been my comfort character ever since

The ace attorney ones:

3. It's probably von Karma and Sholmes. I don't really like irredeemable villains but once again he seems so entertaining. On the second rewatch I really appreciated his unapologetic evilness. The guy caused it all for the most petty reason imaginable. And he's perfect to the point where expects Phoenix to cross-examine the parrot. He also has been carrying a bullet in his shoulder for fifteen years. Really what a character. One certain channel (RPG gamer? I forgor how it's named) certainly helps with iconic "what can I say except you're guilty".

As for Sholmes, he didn't feel like original Sherlock Holmes with his enthusiasm but in the end he is your reliable ally that wants to help you. His that one dance is 20/10 and his relationship with Iris is super sweet. I didn't read a lot of fanfics but in the great ace detective his other side is explored, which helped me realise he makes such obvious mistakes due to raising a child, so he uses same method of teaching with Ryuno.

13. I'm not active in ace attorney fandom now but I loved the music competition on Reddit. People took their time to explain in details why they either disliked a soundtrack or defended it. The battle was intense as hell. Shame I don't remember the results

15. I absolutely love Edgeworth and his smug swag, his character arc fascinated me. At the time I thought that his character was literally perfect with balance of flaws and good qualities. Some may say he's too kind in AA2 but I love how he comforts Sebastian too much to care. Maybe there's some plot holes in Rise from the Ashes but still not terrible enough (or they are explainable even, I don't remember). For me he's the example of good writing and I enjoy his journey to the point where I like the first investigation game too

[doamarierose-honoka]

The prospect of bringing Elena back was a scary one for players who spent a lot of time in Ultra Street Fighter 4, but that's a reality we'll all soon be living in — though the developers appear to be keenly aware of fan concerns.

Following the reveal of Season 2 DLC also including M. Bison Terry Bogard and Mai Shiranui, Street Fighter 6 Director Takayuki Nakayama and Producer Shuhei Matsumoto recently had an interview with Japanese publication Famitsu where they talk about the first Street Fighter 3 character coming back to the roster and her infamous healing powers.

Thanks to the talents of our own Nicholas 'MajinTenshinhan' Taylor, we now have a full translation of their discussion to provide more insights on the team's thought process for the upcoming DLC.

Famitsu: You're also adding Elena from the Street Fighter 3 series. Was there any particular reason for bringing her back?

Nakayama: First of all, we didn't have a capoeira user at the moment and we also wanted to have someone who was from Africa, which were two big reasons for including her.

We were thinking about making a brand new African character, but we felt like if we did that'd leave no room for Elena later so we chose to bring her back instead.

Famitsu: You're working hard to not have overlapping nationalities and fighting styles, then?

Nakayama: That's right. We're always trying to bring in nationalities or martial arts that aren't represented yet. In Street Fighter 6, we added Snake Kung-Fu on our poison user A.K.I. and Drunken Fist with Jamie when we made new characters.

Although the interviewer brings it up, the Director himself doesn't specifically mention her being a SF3 representative as part of the reasoning to bring her back.

This is quite interesting since SF6 is the first entry to fully take place after Third Strike, but it seems we won't be getting caught up with basically any of the New Generation era cast until almost two years after the game came out.

Famitsu: As usual, she'll be mostly fighting with her legs?

Nakayama: Yeah. We're right in the middle of developing her right now, but please look forward to further news down the line.

And then there's of course what all USF4 players were wondering about.

Famitsu: I'm quite curious about Healing... ?

Nakayama: During Ultra Street Fighter 4, I saw a tournament which had Rose, Yun and Elena and the matches became extremely long.

We're very aware of this in our development, so please don't worry about Healing.

Everyone: Hahaha.

Nakayama: For some inside info, the idea of "how about she heals her opponent instead?" was raised, but obviously this was rejected, haha.

This does certainly make it sound like Elena does have Healing again in SF6 though they don't plan on it being quite as strong.

Back when she was re-introduced in Ultra Street Fighter 4, Elena became something of a menace at most skill levels because of her Ultra 2.

She could easily and consistently knock the opponent down and send them flying basically full screen with moves like Spin Scythe and Scratch Wheel to give her an opening for Healing on their recovery.

Most characters didn't have a consistent punish to this tactic, so she'd often get it off for basically free and force the opponent to do enough damage to basically KO Elena 1.5 times to get a win — and then she could just do it again the next round (or sometimes twice in one round if she recovered enough).

It also certainly helped that it only took her Revenge Meter, so she was still free to use her EX moves and Super without a tradeoff.

As the Director mentioned, this could slow down and draw out matches longer than basically any time in SF4's history, which of course drew some ire from the playerbase.

If we had to take a guess, Healing will most likely be Elena's level 2 Super Art in SF6 judging by how the developers tend to set up the characters in this game. And maybe it'll refill her Drive Gauge instead or at least give her the option to.

On top of that being a fairly expensive cost, SF6's mechanics like Drive Rush and almost no hard knockdowns presumably would make healing much riskier than SF4.

Elena already had Healing in SF3 too and wasn't really good there, so it was largely how Ultra SF4 was set up that led to her being more of a menace.

Famitsu: In the trailer, she really gives off a kind of a big sister vibe, so are we to take that as her growing up from her previous appearance?

Nakayama: Of course, time has passed for her just like the rest of the characters, so she has grown. She pets a hippopotamus in one scene, and that's also going to be related to her story.

Previously, the Director talked about how players would probably be surprised and say things like "what are you doing?" in regards to SF6 Season 2, and he certainly seems to be right by bringing Elena back plus the series' first guest characters.

Players will likely be waiting many more months until we actually learn more about Elena in detail and see her in action considering she's the last character scheduled to release in Year 2 all the way in Spring 2025.

[danglovely]

Regrading Taskmaster: S06E07 Roadkill doused in syrup.

*Score changes noted in parenthesis.

Just gonna note -- Alex is really into weird glasses.

Prize Task: The Scariest Thing From Your Kitchen

With a ham sandwich, that's a ticking time-bomb. You don't know!

Mandolin. So many people have talked about injuring themselves on a mandolin. Sarah Millican brings one in later and talks about cutting off her fingertip. There's a pretty infamous Masterchef clip about it (maybe don't watch it if squeamish). Anyway.

Alice brings in "sweaty ham." So I'm not a stickler on "best by" dates, but I can tell when ham has gone bad because it gets sticky and I hate it. I would be hard-pressed to consume it, even when I need to eat. That said, "scary" is not the word I'd use for it. Asim brings in fanart that (1) has no association with a "kitchen" and (2) is actually kind of a good sketch. Plus, like . . . if someone makes you some art, don't blow up their spot.

Russell has a "doggy-cam" that he claims his girlfriend uses to spy on him. It's a decent offering. Good for his relationship? No. Scary? Yes.

Tim brings a door with bad hinges that hits him on the head. *deep sigh* Yes, it's technically a scary thing in the kitchen and slots just behind Russell so far, but like . . . c'mon. You're professional entertainers. There had to be something better.

Liza has a food processor with a fake finger in it. This gets a bit at my pitch of "mandolin," but it's actually plenty safe. It probably goes between Tim and Russell, but other than Russell, underwhelming.

Alice: 2 (0) Asim: 1 (-3) Liza: 3 (0) Russell: 5 (0) Tim: 4 (+3)

VT 01: Knock the bails off the stumps. You've got a maximum of one over. You must make your attempts from behind this stump. No stumps may be moved. Fastest wins.

Call me when I'm needed.

Some people have been playing cricket in the park near my house and I have tried to get them to explain the rules to me. It is not information that is compatible with my brain.

Alright, this one is tough. No bones about it, Russell knocks it out of the park. Simultaneously, he does step on the red carpet and cross the stump by the end of his follow-through. Gut reaction? Give it to him . . . but that might be because I thought it was cool.

The tricky thing here is the task combines cricket terminology with silly bullshit. It uses the word "over" but also lets them use weird balls and pull the carpet and whatever. So do you follow cricket rules or don't you?

I also briefly had the thought that it's not clear what "behind the stump means," but any reasonable person would recognize it means in relation to the target.

Look, no one did it like they were playing cricket and no one argued the outcome. Studio scores it is.

Alice: 0 Asim: 0 Liza: DQ Russell: 5 Tim: 4

VT 02: Draw a picture of the contents of this box. You may not open the box or look inside.

Mahatmabra Ghandi!

There's a great debate about why Alex made the bra wet. I subscribe strongly to the theory that Alex was making the joke that "wet" is the opposite of "sere" and he always gets them mixed up, but who knows?

There's no win condition on this one! They get a bonus point for naming the David Attenborough pun, but that pretty much leaves it up to Greg to decide the thing is going to judged. I think a reasonable person would assume that the win condition would be "most accurate wins."

So, three items. We split the task into thirds and determine if each person accurately drew the item. Quality of the drawings would then be the tie-breaker.

Liza nails two and I'd say her drawing of Michelangelo's David is passable. Alice has the same issue with the David statue. I'd call it passable but worse than Liza's.

Asim -- I'd give him David (and it might even be more accurate than Alice's). I'd even give him the bra, despite looking like "a pair of glasses." I will not give him the hat.

I think I'm only calling the bra accurate for Tim. He seemed to recognize there was a man in the box, but there needs to be some recognition that it's David. Like even just adding a leaf. I'm also only giving Russell credit for recognizing the bra. I will break the tie in favor of Russell because I can imagine a hat in his drawing and I cannot do that with Tim.

So, Alice and Liza three of three, but Liza's is better. Asim two of three. Tim and Russell one of three, but Russell's is better. Add in the bonus point and this is what you get:

Alice: 4 (0) Asim: 3 (+2) Liza: 5 (0) Russell: 3 (+1) Tim: 1 (-3)

Team Task: Write down as many obscure animals as possible. Guess the animals your teammate has on their list. Your teammate must only use mime. They may not write anything down or show you the list.

Blue dog. That famous breed.

You couldn't imagine a better way for this task to turn out than what Asim did. Writing down fictional, insane animals and then he still is somehow able to convey them to Tim and Liza.

Here's the thing . . . Russell makes animal noises for at least two animals and we don't see the full eleven. They're only allowed to mime. I'm hesitant to treat it as a full DQ condition because Alex is in there and confirming when they can move onto the next guess.

I think the way to handle it is DQ two of Alice's guesses, which puts them at nine correct guesses and the team of three at eight correct. This is all academic, though. No score change.

Team Funk: 3 Asim, Liza & Tim: 2

VT 04: Wearing this sweatband around your head at all times, tuck as many items from the kitchen inside the sweatband as possible. Then make a pancake with a diameter of at least nine inches. Then eat the whole pancake. Most kitchen items successfully kept within the sweatband wins.

Weirdly you managed to leave a whisk, two spoons, and a spatula in there, which are the things you need to make a pancake.

No DQ conditions, but two things needed to complete the task: making and eating a nine-inch pancake. I suppose you could also argue what the minimum qualifications are for "being a pancake," but they all get close enough, so let's not get into it.

Alex does tell them there's a time limit on tucking things into their sweatbands, which is not on the task but is enforceable if he says it then and there (rather than afterwards like when we Joe Lycett taught us the show was a scam).

Alice loses her mind for a brief moment and intentionally shakes all her items out. Her sweatband also drops to her neck, which might not be the head, but close enough.

There's even a more pedantic debate as to whether a container of sprinkles (hundreds and thousands) qualifies as one thing or if you need to count every sprinkle. However, there's a more fundamental issue in that people didn't finish their pancake.

The thing said "eat the whole pancake" and the win condition was about items in the sweatband, not how much of the pancake was eaten. Russell's plate is clean by the end of it, so that would mean he's the only one getting points.

Alice: 0 (-2) Asim: 0 (-3) Liza: 0 (-5) Russell: 5 (0) Tim: 0 (-5)

Live Task: Get an egg as close to the center of the target as possible. You must stand on the spot when taking your turn. You must ROLL two of your eggs. The person whose egg is furthest from the center of the target after each round is eliminated.

He's not necessarily eliminated. Oh fuck off, Alex.

Russell reaaally shouldn't have started with the egg he cockishly broke. You get more points the longer you last and you're not gonna last long with that one. The strategy here is to save rolling the Ostrich egg until the end.

As with all elimination tasks, I can't really regrade because I don't know how people would have done in later rounds. Studio scores it is!

Alice: 3 Asim: 5 Liza: 2 Russell: 1 Tim: 4

F I N A L

Alice: 12 (-2) Asim: 11 (-4) Liza: 12 (-5) Tim: 15 (-5) Russell: 22 (+1)

Main score changes here due to my reading in a condition in the pancake task. Broke his egg, but he wins again.

[regatoni1]

~Chapter Thirteen~

T/W: MENTIONS OF RAPE

Brushing off your thoughts, you waited patiently until your friends arrived. With the timer almost up, you became extremely worried as they had only entered with about a minute to spare. 

You rushed over to them. "Gon! Killua!" you yelled happily.

"Hey (y/n)!"

"Gosh don't make me worry like that! I thought I was gonna have to leave you all behind!" you teased, putting Killua in a headlock and ruffling his hair, laughing at his protests.

With you reunited with your friends, you found out why they spent so much time in the tower. Damn horny Leorio... you thought while walking out of the tower with them.

The examiner explained that for the fourth phase, you would all be travelling to Zevil Island, where you would hunt each other, for your tags of course, by using any means necessary. You drew lots, and your target's tag was worth three points, as was your own. You needed six points to pass the phase. Anyone else's tag was only worth one point.

Pretty soon, you were called up to draw your lot. You had to wait in anticipation as everyone drew one, waiting until the last person drew to pull the sticker off, revealing your targets.

Nerves pulsing through you, you pulled the sticker off, to see your target was applicant number 301.

You looked around. Who is that?  Most people had already taken off their own badge to hide it, but you really didn't see much point in doing so. Coincidentally, neither did Gittarackur, number 301.

Great. I just had to get pinhead huh? Fuck! This is going to be way more difficult than I thought...

Sighing, you started to think of a plan. Unfortunately, you were probably going to have to use your nen, which you were hoping to keep a secret just a little bit longer.

You were so immersed in forging a plan to get his badge, you didn't even notice the sly clown that was looking over your shoulder at your target number.

"I could help you if you'd like," he said over your shoulder.

"No thanks. Don't need it," you replied, ignoring  the way his proximity gave you butterflies, how his scent invaded your nose, clouding any hope for clear judgement. Ignoring that how he offered you help made a blush creep across your cheeks, and definitely ignoring how you had hoped he would continue pestering you.

You even ignored the letdown you had felt when he walked away.

Making your way onto the boat that would take you to the island, you chatted with Gon and Killua about your pasts. 

You learned that Killua was from the infamous Zoldyck's, the long time and all powerful family of assasins. You also discovered that Gon was determined to find his father, Ging Freecss, whose name you had heard been mentioned once or twice.

"Tell us about your past, (y/n)!" Gon said excitedly.

"Yeah we know almost nothing about you," Killua added.

"Heh, well you're not the only one."

The boys stared at you confused, waiting for you to continue. Standing up and leaning against the side of the boat, you took a deep breath, inhaling the calming smell of the saltwater below.

"You see, I'm from Meteor City."

"Meteor City?" Gon asked.

"Yes. The city where no one exists. I grew up there by myself. I had almost no friends, no allies, basically no one on my side. But, I did have one person who I could rely on. Someone I could trust," you took another breath and sat back down beside them, ready to dig into your past.

"Basically, my parents had me for the sole reason of becoming the best assassin in the world. They started training me the second I was born. I went through gruelling torture sessions, hours of intensive training, along with some emotional abuse when I didn't learn something fast enough, or when I made a mistake."

"I don't remember much about who my parents were in general, but I always remember sneaking out late at night to meet up with Kiri, my best friend. We had met the first time I ran away. She had been scavenging for food, and we quickly hit it off. We had a designated meeting spot, a secluded ruin of a building."

"Almost every night, we'd meet up there and stare at the stars, or just lay in silence and bask in the comfort of each other. That is until she was killed. After that, I was completely alone until I met you guys."

"One night, I had just been hurled a flurry of curses and swears thrown at me from my father. Stuff like, 'You'll never be good enough!' and 'Stop being so pathetic and take the pain!' It was after I couldn't take any more of the chains, the whips, the stabbing, electrocuting, and had passed out."

"When I had arrived at our spot, Kiri was on the ground, bloodied and barely alive, clothes ripped up. There was a group of mafia men standing over her, one of which was just doing his pants back up. That's all I really remember before I saw nothing but red."

"Before I knew it, all the men were dead, their heads torn off by yours truly. I had run over to her, to see if I could even say sorry for not being there to protect her, but she was already gone. I just hope she saw that I killed them, I killed them all!"

"I should have been there! I should have just left a little earlier, and she-"

You stopped as Killua threw his arms around you, and Gon wiped a tear off your face.

"It's not your fault, (y/n)," Killua said solemnly as Gon silently agreed.

"Yeah, I guess. I just, I need a minute," you said, brushing past them and finding a bathroom.

Finally getting the chance to be alone, you broke down in the small bathroom. You sobbed, sliding against the wall. 

I could have saved her. I should have saved her. It's- it's all my fault...

Letting yourself break a little more each tear, you slowly stood back up after you heard the bell ring signalling the ship's arrival.

Looking in the mirror, you despised what you saw. The puffy eyes. The red cheeks. You were not weak. You didn't cry. You looked down at your hands, squeezing the sides of the sink. No remorse. No remorse, you chanted in your head, almost like a mantra. Squeezing so hard, you broke the porcelain of the sink and looked up at yourself one last time, anger rearing it's head. You punched the mirror, shattering it, shards of glass embedding themselves inside of your knuckle.

You left the bathroom and went back to the main deck, ignoring the looks people gave you. Hisoka was already gone, and you were next to leave.

When the girl called your name, you walked towards the forest, knuckles dripping with blood, hoping to see at least one person. You needed to kill. 

Killing wasn't something you enjoyed doing, but it was something that you had been trained to do. Something comforting, almost, and whenever you did it, you felt it brought you closer to Kiri.

Not realizing how far you had walked, you hopped into a tree and waited for the poor victim who you would see first.

239? Your lucky day. 

You jumped out of the tree and onto his shoulders, ripping his head off like a feral animal.

[house-of-slayterr]

I Need A Vacation Pt. 2

Tag: @vechkinfan @dickspaghettii @yor72 @thelostboyswife @panickinanakin1

It was our third day in Santa Clara. For the most part, everyone was getting along. No one had been staked, not wolfsbane, no neck-snapping. It was nice to be away from Mystic Falls where I didn’t have to worry about my friends getting drugged by Vervain. Especially with my twin being a Hybrid now. The girls were off tanning at the beach, an activity I wasn't keen in joining them in. I wasn't a vampire, or a which, I could still get skin cancer.

Damon had dragged the boys somewhere to cause some mischief. I'm sure Stefan and Matt were being the voice of reason. While my brother was likely lucky to keep his head on his shoulders. Which left me all alone, standing in the middle of our air b and b rental. I drew the shades, blocking out any sunlight. Unlike my brother, My werewolf eyes were sensitive. I could see much better than him at night, but this hindered me during the day. Without my sunglasses, I was basically blind.

I turned the air conditioning up and laid down on the cold marble flooring of the kitchen. It felt nice against my hot skin. Before I knew it, I fell asleep.

David's POV:

The night was drawing close, I could see the last remnants of sunlight setting along the horizon. I was always the first to wake unless Dwayne was particularly antsy that day. It had been three days since we met that girl at the convenience store. Three whole days since we fed on her in the ally. I knew the boys were still thinking about her, I was too. Paul was jumping out of his skin at a chance to sniff her out. But we had to be patient, she said she'd meet us again, and I doubt she'd lie. Not after letting us feed on her so willingly. Nobody had ever done that for us before.

I hear Marko stir from his place on the ceiling, the others were quick to wake up after.

"I have a good feeling about tonight!" He declared, overly cheerful.

"Somebodies happy, wet have one of those dreams again?" Paul teased.

Marko rolled his eyes, and Dwayne chuckled lightly under his breath. He stretched showing the top of his happy trail. My eyes wandered for a moment, before Paul clapped his hand on my shoulder.

"And somebodies hungry this morning. Who did the two of you drink last night, because I want what you're having."?

"Shut it hairspray!" I flinched his hand off of me.

Dwayne chuckled playfully.

"If you're sure tonight is the night Marko, do your thing, sniff her out."

"With Pleasure." Marko cracked his infamous cat like grin.

He was the best tracker out of all of us. We set out into the crowd, patrolling the boardwalk as usual. Despite my best efforts, Paul got distracted by the usual chum. Pretty girls, less pretty boys. He was a horny bastard and he needed to get his priorities straight. He'd be disappointed if he tires himself out before we find her, she would to. And for that I'd have to punish him. But it was his grave he was digging, Paul learned things the hard way.

Dwayne was on high alert as usual, scanning the crowd as if any of these humans were a danger to us. Though I couldn't really blame him, his gut feelings were never wrong. I just wish he'd relax outside of the cave every once and a while.

But Marko, Marko did not disappoint. In under an hour, we had her in our sights again. And by the gods, was she breath taking. Her outfit wasn't particularly stunning the first time we met. But that hardly mattered, right now however, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I slapped Paul on the back of his head, pulling his attention away from the girl he was toying with.

"Ow, what the hell man?"

Her hair was loosely braided to one side. She wore a short red plaid skirt, black knee-high socks and platform boots. But what had my breath catching in my throat was her top or lack thereof. She wore a thing black lace bralette, and Dwayne's leather jacket hung loosely around it. It was way too oversized, and she honestly looked adorable in it. It was clear Dwayne agreed from the genuine smile on his face.

"She's wearing it."

I was honestly surprised when he gave it to her. Dwayne wasn't nearly as uppity about his jacket as Marko was with his. But it was still one of his favorite things. He wore it every day. Today however he threw on one of Paul's old black flannels he stole. It was a little tight on him, because his muscles were larger. But it still looked nice, weird but nice.

She was sat alone on a bench by Max's video store. None of her pesky friends following her today. Most importantly, her brother was nowhere in sight. He smelt like wet dog and cheap booze. She fidgeted with the necklace around her neck. Her gaze was far off, staring up at the sky.

Before I could finish reading Marko's mind, he was already on his way over. Too eager I suppose. I sighed heavily as I watched the scene unfold.

"Should we intervene?" Dwayne asked.

I shook my head.

"Naw man, Markie's just having some fun." Paul defended.

We watched as he jumped out in front of her, starling her. I could hear the soft squeak that left her mouth. She clutched her necklace tighter and glared up at him. We took that as our que to softly approach.

"You should have seen your face." Paul laughed.

"You should know it well, it's the same face you make when you walk past a reflective surface."

Paul placed a hand over his heart in offence. Marko was double over laughing, leaning on her shoulder.

"How are you?" I asked smoothly.

She smiled up at me, holding out her hand, as if to ask for mine I pulled her up to her feet, watching Marko stumble in the process.

"Thank you. And I'm fine, you?"

I gave her a half-baked answer, I could tell she wasn't fully with us. Her eye looked past me at the sky again. I followed her line of sight, and she quickly shrunk in on herself when she noticed.

"Something wrong?" Dwayne asked for me.

"Sorry. Just, the moons very bright tonight, don't you think?"

"It is, isn't it." I muttered.

"Awesome, isn't it? The blood moons tonight." Paul wiggled his fingers in her face like a kid telling a ghost story.

She frowned, but it was so subtle I almost thought I imagined it.

"Yeah, cool..."

"You with us Doll face?" I mused.

Her attention snapped back to me.

"So, you settled on Doll face? Better than Kitten I guess." she laughed lightly.

It wasn't pity laugh. Just something small, genuine.

"What's wrong with Kitten, Kitten?" Marko purred in her ear.

"Wrong type of pet." She joked.

The type of joke, only she knew the true meaning of. But Marko took this as a challenge.

"Little bird? Bunny? No, no- you're definitely some thinks cool like a snake!" He declared.

She pushed his face away with her hand.

"Keep trying buddy. You boys want to get out of her?" She asked.

I could hear the nerves in her voice, it was the way Dwayne spoke when he felt threatened.

"I thought you'd never ask." Paul grinned.

I held out my hand, mirroring her earlier action. She took it gratefully and we all started walking.

"Where too?" I questioned.

"Somewhere the light doesn't touch." She said defiantly.

On odd request, but who was I to judge. She was making this all too easy. I walked her over to where Our bikes sat and helped her hop on. I handed her the extra helmet I used for Star. The boys and I talked through our mind link.

"Do you think she's on something?" Paul asked.

"Her pupils were fine." Dwayne observed.

"Of course, you were staring at her eye's loser, did you see what she's wearing?" Marko jeered.

That was a stupid question, of course he did. But Dwayne was more gentlemanly than the rest of us, or at least he played the part better.

"She seemed uncomfortable, maybe she got in a fight with one of her friends. Would explain why that blond girl wasn't hanging off of her, and that due with the dumb haircut wasn't glaring at anyone who got to close." Dwayne queried.

"Doesn't explain why she doesn't like the light." I finally chimed in.

Nobody seemed to have an explanation for that one. The rest of the ride to the cave was silent. She got of my biked, taking of the helmet, and removing her braid. She shook her hair out, so it fell sloppily around her neck. The bite marks had healed pretty well.

"So, what do you think?" Marko asked.

"Of what? This hunk of rock?" She laughed, not genuine like it was early.

She was defiantly on edge about something.

"Well, this hunk of rock is ours, Sweetcheeks" Paul slung his arm over our shoulders.

"We live deep within the cave, used to be an old hotel or something like that. Sink hole got to it."

"No shit, that's kinda cool actually. Show me around?" She asked, looking right into his eyes.

Dwayne playfully scooped her up in his arms.

"Hey, put me down!" "No can do, the way in's slippery, can't have you falling and breaking that pretty little neck of yours."

I knew he was cracking. Vampires were territorial creatures by nature. Being this close to our home and seeing her in his clothes. His mind was numbing by the second.

He flew her down to our spot in the cave, Her giggled echoed of the walls. It made my undead heart swell in a way I didn't think it could. He plated his feet on the edge of the fountain, threatening to drop her in it. A move I'm sure he learned from one of the terror twins.

"No don't!"

"Why not?" "Because you'll ruin your jacket silly!" She said it like there was nothing more obvious in the whole world.

Paul had already made himself comfortable on the couch. Marko read my mind and left to go get some food. We wouldn't need to find dinner ourselves, if she let us feed on her again. I stood watching the whole ordeal and lit a cigarette.

"And what if I were to just take it back?"

Her eyes widened like saucers.

"You musty ass bitch! you'll have to pry it from my could dead hands!" she shouted.

She somehow managed to twist out of his hold, flipping backwards and landing expertly on the tip of the center of the fountain.

Paul starred at her like she just grew a second head. I honestly was surprised, and mildly impressed. Dwayne took a moment to contemplate what just happened but lunged for her playfully. She jumped back gain, dogging him with ease. A chase ensued for a few minutes, Paul deciding to join in and help.

"Oh, come on, it's my jacket!" Dwayne tried to reason.

"Finder keepers, losers' weepers!" She stuck her tongue out at him.

It was like she sensed Paul's presence behind her, cause she ducked when he tried to reach for her, slipping under his legs. She grabbed his hair and pulled him close, using him as a human shield between her and Dwayne. Paul bit his lip hard, I could tell he was trying to hold back a moan. It was honestly hilarious, and what that idiot deserved. They circled each other for a moment, stargazing.

"Hey when did I become a pawn in this?"

"When you picked his side you traitor."

Marko came back with the food, but none of them moved an inch.

"I got the chow- what the hell is going on here?" He asked amused.

"Care to explain Doll face?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Dwayne want's his jacket back. I like being warm."

Marko chuckled, placing the food down on the makeshift coffee table.

"Oh yeah? I could always warm you up babe." He tried.

She rolled her eyes.

"Pick a side blondie, there no cuddling in the heat of war!"

He jumped over the couch and stood by Dwayne's side.

"What? Wouldn't give up my jacket for just any girl." He smiled at her.

"Boo, you whore!"

I laughed under my breath, it was true, Marko as a whore.

"What are you laughing at Ken, get over here and help me."

I raised a brow at her. Not only did she just give me an order, she called me ken. It's almost like she raid my mind, because in a smaller voice, with a blush on her face, she explained.

"Well, if I'm your doll..."

"When you say it like that, sure, I'll help you."

I stood Infront of her and Dwayne glared at me. She finally let go of Paul, knowing he wouldn't dare switch back teams.

"So that's how were gonna play this?" Dwayne asked her.

"All is fair in war." She shrugged.

She definitely shouldn't have said that. He and Marko shared a look, before he launched the smaller boy at me. I shifted the impact so we wouldn't back up into her. Dwayne went for her but got cut off by Paul. She took this as an opportunity to run and hide. Another mistake. We were vampires, she knew this. It was amusing she thought we couldn't find her.

I quickly shook Marko off of me and went to go find her. She'd never suspect someone on her own team to turn on her. She said it herself, anything goes. I pulled back the makeshift curtain, separating Paul's part of the cave. I found her hiding behind the mini fringe he kept in there. I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder.

"NO fair!" She let out between laughs.

"This has been fun Doll, but I'm hungry and you're delaying dinner."

She must have understood my double entendre, because I felt a shiver run through her spine. I chuckled menacingly. I threw her down on the couch and she glared up at me. Dwayne came up behind her and removed his jacket.

"I win." he said, leaning down to her height and grinning.

She said nothing, glaring. She was giving him the silent treatment. To emphasized this, she turned away from him, focusing her attention on Paul. She called him over, and he obliged. She pecked him on the cheek.

"Thats for not betraying me."

He smiled the brightest smile I've ever seen. He plopped down next to her on the couch and handed her some food.

"Thanks."

We all ate, the boys making meaningless conversation. Dwayne looked over at her every once in a while, trying to gauge if she was actually upset. I was just glad she was eating. We wouldn't want her passing out later. I'm sure she'd have to get back to her friends sooner or later. She spaced out again, staring lifelessly at a spot on the floor. Paul nudgedx her shoudler, but she didnt budge. I grew a tad concenred.

"Y/N?" I asked.

The other boys drew their full attention to her now.

"Y/N?" I asked a little louder.

Marko waved his hand in front of her face. A few minutes past and we still could snap her out of it. So, I made a decision.

"What are you doing?" Paul asked, suddenly protective.

"We have to snap he out of whatever this is, she's not consciously breathing, and her heart is slowing. You can hear it can't you?"

They all nodded.

"Being gentle isn't working so-"

I extended my claws. I grabbed her wrist, turning it over in my grasp. I made eye contact with Dwayne for a second, he was the smartest of us, basically asking if he thought this was the right play. He gave me a nod. I dug y nail into her skin, hard enough to draw blood. She snaped out of it quickly, grabbing my hand in a tight grip. Her eyes met mine and they were darker than before. She had a scowl on her face.

"What was that?" She growled.

"We lost you for a second there, you were out for a few minutes." I said defensively.

Her grip is much tighter than it should of been. The boy's and I suspected she wasn't human, but she wasn't one of us either. That was obvious. What the hell was she?

"Yeah, you totally went all zombie on us, not like literally-"

She cut off Paul with a glare. She took a deep breath, before finally letting go of my arm. There was a red mark for a moment, before it healed.

"Sorry." She apologized.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Dwayne, always the worry wort.

"What does it feel like when you feed?" She asked suddenly, changing the subject.

I starred at her with curiosity.

"When you drink from a human, I mean. How does it make you feel?" Her question was directed at me specifically this time.

"IS that what you're worried about. We weren't gonna feed on you without permission." I laughed.

She shook her head.

"No." She looked past me at Dwayne now. "What do you think when you're doing it?"

Dwayne let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't think we have the answer you want."

"I'm not testing you; I just want a genuine answer. Please." Her voice got small in the end.

Paul was an idiot, but he was good at comforting. He pulled her close once he felt no resistance, and pet her hair down, smoothing it.

"Well, for me it feels really exciting. More the hunting them down, hearing their please. Sometimes they taste good, and the ones that don't, the weed helps." He explained.

I excepted her to pull away from him, disgusted, but she just nodded, leaning into his touch more.

"Well, if were being honest, it kidna turns me on. I usually pick the hottest people to feed off of. You were the first one who liked it though." Marko added.

She gave him a weak smile, eyes drifting to Dwayne.

"I didn't like it at first, being a vampire. But it doesn't bother me anymore. I like it because they like it. As long as they're having fun, then so am I." Dwayne confessed.

"So not only are you a literally leech, but you're a social leech to." She joked softly. Laughing into Paul's chest.

Dwayne rolled his eyes. Her attention finally shifted back to me. We held eye contact for a long time, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Why do you want to know?" I sighed. "Aren't their answers good enough?"

She sat up, pulling away from Paul. I heard a small whine escape him. But he let her go anyway.

"I'm not asking you to pour your heart out to me David. I'll-" She stopped herself, running an unsteady had through her hair. "I'll answer a question for you, if you answer mine. Any question, I can't say no." She offered.

It was tempting, truly. I wanted to know if me and the boys could trust her. Why we felt these things towards her, that we never felt before. Why she had this effect on us.

"Any question?"

"You can each ask me something, yes." Her heart didn't falter, she wasn't lying.

"It's a power exchange for me. To know me and my boys can strike fear, that people wouldn't mess with us. I feed on douchbags, idiots who deserve what they get. To watch them feel small, it feels good. If you're talking more literally, it does power us. Were stronger right after we've just fed. We feel faster, lighter, our mood improves."

She looked lost in thought for a moment.

"Thank you for being honest."

"You're not scared of us?" Paul asked, sounding hopful.

"Is that your question?"

He thought for a moment, before nodding. Out of all of us, he was the worst with rejection. She reached out to stroke his cheek with her thumb.

"No. I'm not scared of you. If you guys wanted to kill me, I'd most likely already be dead. Now, trust is a different story. But I trust you as much I trust any man. But at least you guys seem to want to be honest with me."

"Why did you let us feed from you?" Dwayne asked next. "You'd already been fed on that night, so why risk it?"

"Because I can tell when a vampire is in need. You boys are just more forthcoming with your thirst then others I've interacted with. Besides, you piqued my interest, and my night was rather boring."

He didn't seem fully satisfied with the answer none of us were, but he let her continue.

"Do you like me? I mean us?" Marko blurted out.

She let out a soft chortle.

"Would I be here right now if I didn't?"

He frowned.

"The answer is yes, Marko, I do find all of you rater attractive. I'm just a bit more subtle than you are."

He gave a small cheer.

"The floor is yours David." She spoke.

"Who bit you that night? Did you know the vampire?"

"Thats two questions." She stalled.

"Y/N" I warned.

She sighed dropping her head. She fidgeted with her hands.

"Yes. I knew him."

"Him?" Marko and Paul asked in sync.

I could tell their territorial nature was kicking in as well.

"He's a friend, he doesn't like me like that. Probably never will." She sounded sad. "He's not very good at controlling his thirst-"

"So, he bit you?" I asked, angry.

"It's not like that, David. He would never hurt me... on purpose. He doesn't like hurting people, He didn't bring enough blood packs on this trip, so I gave him a top off. It was my choice, just let letting you guys' feed on me was my choice."

"He's using your feeling for him to get stuff from you." I said.

"And you aren't?!" She suddenly yelled. "I know what your intentions were bringing me here, to your home. It's secluded, no body for miles, I'm not stupid David. Don't you dare suggest that I am not in control of my own feelings, and my body!"

She got up in my face.

"He didnt-" Dwayne started to defed me.

"NO! Let him speak for himself, this is his grave he's digging, not yours."

"It was not my place to speak."

"Yeah, no shit.

She suddenly slumped over, clutching her side. She groaned in pain. I reached down to try to ask what was wrong.

"What, time is it?" She asked, her voice strained.

"Almost midnight, why?" Dwayne asked, getting up from his spot and coming over to her.

"I have to go." She shrugged Dwayne's hand off her and tried to stand, faltering in her steps.

"You don't look so good." Paul said.

If Paul was concerned, something was definitely wrong.

"I'm fine!" she growled out.

Her town was low, deep. She doubled over in pain again, this time falling to her knees.

"I shouldn't have come here; this was a mistake." She said. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"What's happening?" I asked, my tone more bitter than I intended.

"The blood moon." She stuttered out. "You all should leave, it's not- it's not safe." She pleaded.

I heard a deafening crack echo throughout the cave. She cradled her arm with her other hand.

"This was reckless, I'm so stupid." It seemed like she was talking more to herself now.

Paul tried to help her up but hissed and pulled his hand away.

"She's burning up." He explained. "Like really hot."

She suddenly let out a scream as another loud crack was heard. She laid on her back now, staring up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. Her eyes flashed yellow. I was by her side in an instant, holding her in my arms.

"I know you're trying to help David, but you cant. It's not safe. I'm- I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have put you guys int his position."

Before I could ask for clarification, she screamed again. This tie I could feel her bones cracking. She was a sweating mess, writhing in pain. Even after all the horrible things I've done, I couldn't stand to watch this. The boys remained quiet, trying not to disturb her. But their thoughts were rapid. But one thoughts of Dwayne's stood out.

"What's effected by the moonlight, has fangs, and a high body temperature?" He asked himself.

"It can't be." Marko said.

"Max said they were real, just not native to this part of the country, that's why he made a home in California." Paul reasoned.

It could be possible; we'd never seen one of their kind in person. Only heard the stories.

"You're a werewolf." I concluded.

She nodded, a few tears slipping from her eyes as they screwed shut.

"How can we help?" Dwayne asked, kneeling down besides us.

"You can't. My brother, he's the only one who-"

The most violent scream I'd ever heard tore through her throat. It grated in my ears, it held so much anguish, even Marko flinched. And he relished in his victim's scream, but she wasn't his victim.

"I'll go find him." Marko was quick to leave.

We'd caught his scent that first day, it was obvious now he smelled like a wolf. But why didn't she smell that way? Paul paced back and forth, biting his nails. He didn't know what to do. Paul was never good in a crisis, especially not ow that he was currently sober. She calmed for a moment, gripping my hand and breathing heavily.

"I- I'm ok. This isn't my first turning. But you can't stay. Whatever you do, don't let me bite you. My venom is poisonous to your kind."

Max had conveniently left that out, telling us we'd never have to worry about werewolves. She bit down on her tongue, her body contorting wildly.

"David, promise me you'll leave. It's not fair for me to kick you out of the house, you aren't day walkers. But you'll find somewhere safe to hide." She took in a couple stuttered breaths.

"My friends, bring them my necklace." She ripped it off, handing it to me. "They'll know It's an emergency if you have this, I never take it off unless I trust someone. They'll make sure you're away from the sun and away from me. Now go!" She begged.

She threw herself off of me, backing up into the wall.

"Now!" she yelled.

I hesitated, we all did, but she promised she'd be alright. Marko would alert her brother and we'd fixed this. She had to be ok, she had to. The boys and I left, in search of her friends.

AN: I know this isn't how it works in the vampire diaries universe. But since Tyler and her are twins, and only he's a hybrid, I'm making this choice for dramatic effect. She can tell when he's fed, because he gets stronger. Twin bond or some shit. But since he can turn whenever, and she still has to turn on the full moon, she feels the pain he would have if he chose to turn with her. Usually, he does to lessen her pain, but this vacation her forgot.

[minotaur-in-my-labyrinth]

Okay so in 1994 there was a direct to video Disney film, the first of its kind, called The Return of Jafar. And while the quality is how to put it? Second rate? It was far and above my favorite Disney movie growing up. I distinctly remember Jafar being one of my very first hyperfixations, particularly him as an evil genie. To the point where my mom.yelled at me because I drew a picture of a just 5 year old drawing of a house setting and I had the sun up in the corner, but I drew his mustache and twisted beard and had a speech bubble saying "Hehehe, I'm an evil Jafar sun."

And in this film there is a musical sequence called "You're Only Second Rate" where the omnipotent genie Jafar just flexes his superior genie powers over the genie called "Genie" through a series of pun-themed magic, much like Jafar spent a good deal of time at the end of Aladdin 1992 doing pun-themed magic (don't toy with me, as he turns Abu into a toy monkey, things are unraveling fast now boy, as he unravels the magic carpet into skeins of yarn and tassels, get the point as he traps Aladdin in a circle of scimitars, I'm just getting warmed up as he breathes said circle of scimitars into a ring of fire).

I noticed something very odd, given the whole animation shit show that DTV Disney films are infamous for and it's the judicious application of shading upon giant muscular red genie Jafar. Through the whole song there is almost none. ALMOST. Here they are:

Relatively innocuous, and almost imperceptible.

But then

Uh-oh, now I know where my dreams of having a giant red demon boyfriend came from.

There is one more example and the shot is actually before the one above, but I did it on purpose for emphasis.

And there are several shots of giant red genie Jafar, but there are only 3 shots that have shading, throughout the entire song; the previous two and this one:

His foot. And I just have so many questions for if I ever get to meet the animators who worked on this sequence. And I fucking know all the answers.

[fabulaee]

COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE

// A 🐺 fic based on my Stay journey’s aesthetics which was a coffee shop au bc they remind me of those times when I used to go to the café to draw and would see fellow regulars but unlike y/n and Chan, I never interact with them. We all just share a table 😂😂😂

*

*

*

Monday. Wednesday. Friday

That was the set schedule for your coffee run. MWF from 9 am to 10, then coming back with your study supplies from 1 to 4 in the afternoon. It was routine; the small college café a safe haven from the slight messy floor of your dorm and the formal vibe of the library. Here you were focused and at peace of mind. The aroma of the coffee beans and soft sounds of the coffeeshop’s playlist serving as background noise.

There wasn’t much students at this time of the day compared to the much later prime of the evenings. The café then filled with college youths grabbing a drink after a long day’s worth of lectures and test reminders or staying to cram a night’s worth of information. There was something about cafés that seemed inviting and less suffocating yet at the same time a place where you can find the nursing students with their big thick books opened with streaks of neon yellow running across them.

“Vanilla Bean Cold Brew for y/n!”

Standing up, you went to grab your drink leaving behind the pastel rainbow set of highlighters and gel pens on top of your notes. You quickly thanked the barista as he handed you a straw before plopping back down on your seat continuing where you last went off. Something about the history of impressionistic art. You sighed as you lifted your eyes across the room, it was currently 2:30 pm on a Wednesday afternoon. A good time to take a break before your mind starts to commit brain fart.

*

Chris Bang. Affectionally called Bang Chan by his friends. Music major with golden hands, a good candidate for the honor roll, member of the varsity swim team, and resident social butterfly. An all rounder any college is proud to have.

You heard about him once or twice from your common friend, Yang Hongseok. They met at the gym apparently and became quick friends through the Japanese exchange student, Adachi Yuto, and their shared love for fitness.

You see him sit at the same spot everyday since the middle of sophomore year. His laptop with the cute decal of Deadpool open and his AirPods snugly tucked in his ears. He's always has his blonde head bopping to a song he's playing on either his phone or his laptop. Always seemed so engrossed in this little world he made for himself across the room, ignorant to the bustling crowd of students that come and go.

He looks up catching you off guard. His lips curled slightly upwards, chuckling to himself as he watches your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. Great, he must think I'm a weirdo!

With a quick exchange of nods you both went back to doing your own thing. Just a regular day at the coffee shop.

*

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

It's the Friday following Monday's slightly embarrassing incident. You looked up to find the same Chris Bang, laptop in hand, smiling at you like a friendly yet lost puppy. Warm brown orbs looking back at yours.

“My laptop's about to die and this is the only table with an outlet.” He explains himself, a tiny awkward giggle making up as the period.

“O-oh, of course!” You stuttered, hastily making room for him despite the large space as you swiped for the stray pastel highlighters and napkins closer. “No one's sitting here so go ahead.”

He whispered a small thanks before setting down his laptop to grab his bag from his usual spot while you went back to your notes. It was silent for awhile, only the sounds of pen against paper and the soft tick tack of the keys. At some point you hit a mind block, eyes glazing in boredom as you stared at the blank space of your notebook. You felt your table mate leave his stationary position too. he stretched in his seat before turning his attention to you.

Sensing his sudden gaze on you, you flashed him a small smile. You were never one to start a conversation, often keeping to yourself and minding your own business. A bit of a complete opposite towards the friendly Australian who somehow knows at least three students from each program.

He smiles back at you showing off his cute dimples and an outstretched hand. “Hey, I'm Chan. I never caught your name.”

Again with the cute giggle. It seems to be like a signature to him but it's cute still the same. You grasped his hand giving it a soft shake. “Y/n,” you answered curtly.

*

The following days you find yourself hanging around Chan more. Afternoon study sessions were no longer a date between you and the textbook or the small watercolor set you laid out on the table. Chan was there to fill the space making the long table that was a party of one to a party of two and maybe some on certain busy hours but mostly it was the both of you in your own tiny world.

You got to know him, his likes and dislikes. His major and passion for music, sometimes slipping in a few complaints about certain homework here and there; What else he likes to do. Apparently mr. Chris Bang was gifted in so many areas you often wondered what good he must've done in his previous life to be this gifted. Not only was he a jack of all trades, he's also the master of all.

You even had a small debate between Deadpool and Spider-Man. God, he's such a nerd it's adorable!

In return he knew these things about you. How you're taking up art as your major hoping to make it out as an illustrator one day—

“it would be so cool if you drew a variant cover for Deadpool!”

“Ha! We'll see about that, Chris Reynolds.”

He knows how you like to collect stickers and are quite passionate about making sure your notes are beautiful. He knows how you loved your drinks iced despite it being the middle of winter.

“Isn’t the weather too cold for that?” He’d ask with a quirk of his brow, amused brown eyes glancing at the iced hazelnut latte you have in your hands.

“Nope!” you replied, taking a sip as you did so. “It’s always the perfect weather for an iced coffee, Bang.”

He only chuckled at that.

*

It hit you like a freight train. You didn’t mean to fall for him. It wasn’t supposed to happen. You and Chan? No way, it was just supposed to be just friends. The kind where you hang out and have fun, no feelings attached. He was just supposed to be that regular from the café, right?

That was the plan, right?

But you can’t deny the small flutters from your heart much like those newly emerged butterflies. How you can feel that giddy feeling of excitement when you spot his mop of chocolate curly locks outside the café’s window. How you mirror his smile when you get together to talk about anything and everything under the sun. Bang Chan in all his cute dimpled glory, soft curls and hearty giggles was just too much to adore.

Yet it wasn’t that what pulled you in to the Music major. You felt love blossom when you both stayed up late, when the café was quiet after a busy day. The only people around being a couple medical students, some late night goers, and the employees. You felt the tiny flower buds start to bloom when he stayed with you then; keeping you company under the dimly warm fluorescent lights, laptop tucked away and a hand playing with yours.

You felt it bloom when you cuddled on the booth’s sofa one rainy November day. He scoots over next to you when he saw you shiver from the corner of his eyes. He’s naturally warm —you’d often tease him how he made the room hot. Why? well it’s because he’s from Australia! which earned the loud chorus of laughter from his friends and Chan’s ears turning into the color of the fire hydrant.

“Babygirl, you’re shivering.” He mutters as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you gently towards him. You accepted the subtle invitation, sides sticking together as you both went through forgotten notes and half finished coffees.

You felt it when you caught yourself staring at him a little longer than intended. Eyes drifting from Jisung’s expressive face to glance at the older one. You watched him look at the former with such adoration in his eyes; how he looked like a proud dad. You watched him nod along and laugh to Jisung’s animated story about how he and Hyunjin would fight back in the day, a fact that still seemed to shock you seeing how they are the best of friends.

Your eyes would linger on him while he worked on his music; focused and determined, hiding the exhaustion and sleepless nights prominent on the dark circles under his eyes. He was handsome even if he looked like shit. Hell, he was handsome even when he sported the infamous broccoli colored hair. You’d find yourself in a trance, like it was a dream. The world didn’t matter as much anymore when it was only you and Chan in the small dimly table, surrounded by the aroma of coffee beans at the small quaint cafe at the corner of the street.

*

You loved him. You loved him in the most beautiful of ways; you loved him in the most perfect highs and in all those crevices full of flaws.

You loved him in those bright moments, when the lights were shining on him during a 3RACHA gig. How they made him more beautiful, how they made him stand out from the 2 younger members. You loved watching him do what he loves; how he immersed himself in a world that was different from yours. How his version of colors and dried paint were beats and melodies, rhythm and tempos.

You loved him in the lowest moments; when the tide was high enough to cover you. You loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, how he became a shoulder to lean on when you felt the world was against you and you to him. When he would open up to you about his worst fears and his grandiose ambitions; when he spilled his heart out at the underlaying insecurity that’s been biting him due to his perfectionist attitude. You became his confidante; the one he can trust his heart to.

You loved him in the times he was vulnerable. You loved him when he would bask in glory and shining lights. You loved him like those cheesy lines in love songs. You loved him like how the tides would look at the moon in awe and yearning; gravitating with every push and pull.

You loved him in ways words can never describe. How the seeds he planted in your heart bloomed to the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.

You love him simply because he’s Chan.

You promised yourself you’d be just friends. It was safer that way but then again, what is love when she’s not one without twists and turns?

What is love when she comes to you, sneaky and sly like a weed disguised as a flower, whispering into your ear that it’s him.

It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

It was always him, it just took you some time to figure that out.

*

When you first met Chan, he was simply a friend of a friend. Someone you knew because your brothers are his friends. He was the guy you’d hear about in passing, the popular cool guy with a heart bigger than a massive sized teddy bear and a smile that could cure the most depressing of days. Someone who, in probability, would just be an acquaintance to you.

He was that guy you regularly saw at the coffee shop you visited every week. He was just some guy from the music department who would flash you a friendly smile because you were a familiar face.

Funny how fate made him more than what you originally expected him to be.

[krisrix]

Omggggg you met your husband in art gallery? 😭😍 That's so romantic? And like? Super cute and sweet? Especially when you're an artist? I need to know mooore (if you're comfortable with that of course❤️)

It’s a very ridiculous story, so yes, let’s do it.

Here’s how I met my husband:

As I mentioned, this was an art gallery website that was catered to yaoi art. Specifically, all of the art (and I think maybe there was writing, too? I can’t recall) had to feature men prominently. This meant that, yeah sure, sometimes you had content that was G-rated, but the site was mostly smut or smut-adjacent 80% of the time. Because of that, you needed to be 18+ to have an account—and an account was required to even view the site.

Guess what? I was not 18+ 🤦‍♂️ But this didn’t stop me. (I am not condoning this.)

My gallery was a mix of smutty and not smutty, mostly the latter. I was only just turning 16 (yes, I know, stop judging me) and didn’t have a whole lot of privacy. (My mom is infamous for entering rooms without knocking, even when you’re pooping, and she’d rifle through a lot of my stuff. I didn’t want her finding a whole boatload of porny anime boys, so I didn’t draw that content nearly as much as I drew SFW stuff.) (However, despite these efforts, she did indeed find my stash of smut drawings one day, and that was a hell of a conversation.) 

Anyway, all of that to say: my gallery was fairly tame, especially given the usual fare on that site. There was this one drawing of Eiri from Gravitation (if anyone even remembers that show). He’s a writer, and a trainwreck, so I drew him half-asleep, trying to write with his cigarette, with his pen hanging from his lips—it was cute! I really liked the drawing. He was in his PJs, and there was bright sunlight coming in through the blinds on his window. He looked haggard as fuck. I was very proud.

One day, I get a comment on that drawing. I don’t remember it word-for-word. I don’t even remember what else was said, all I remember is that the commenter gave me constructive criticism on the hands. And outwardly I was like “cool thanks 😎” while internally I was like “BITCH DID I ASK?”

So I’m fuming. Because I’m 16 and failing out of my AP art class because my portfolio is coming out like shit. And what was the concentration of my portfolio? HANDS. This comment was like a personal attack on my very soul. (My AP art saga is a whole story for another time.)

I am livid. I am wounded. I have never been so affronted by a stranger on the internet in my life. This man is now my sworn enemy.

But... I don’t have time for a sworn enemy. Especially not for some chucklefuck stranger on the internet. I decide to wipe him from my mind—it was a big website, and most people were there for smut—odds were good we would never cross paths again.

A few weeks later, I get this friendly comment on the main page of my account. Not on any specific drawing, just in this sort of general comment thread every account had. The commenter and I start chatting about our mutual love of Gravitation. Then we decide to move the convo to AIM (really showing my age here). And then we’re basically chatting all the time. Staying up until 3 AM, drawing things for each other, RPing, the whole nerdy thing. His name is Simon (yes, really), he’s in Montreal, I’m in NY—same timezone, not too far away... Everything’s great!

Except he has a girlfriend. But that’s fine! We’re friends! Everything’s fine!

A few months in, he sends me a cute selfie, and I think, “I’m gonna kiss that mouth one day”. And that was that, my fate was sealed.

I redoubled my efforts. His relationship was on the rocks already—we’d had several conversations about it. I was comfortable being the tipping point for him to finally break up with her. (I know, I know, let me live.)

Eventually, they did break up because he realized how difficult things were with her and how easy things were with me. *hair flip*

We officialized our long-distance dating status.

A few weeks later, I’m replying to a new comment on that drawing of Eiri I mentioned earlier... and I see that old comment from the dude who dared critique the hands... and I look at the user name...

Oh my god, it’s my boyfriend!!!! We narrowly brushed “enemies to lovers” territory!!!!!!! How could I have been so foolish as to not really bask in it?!! Where was my slowburn??????!!!!!!!

Apparently, Simon had no idea that I didn’t realize I was talking to the same person the whole time. We had a very good laugh about it.

And... then I got banned from the art gallery website. Simon asks me why, and I say, “well, they found out I’m not 18″, and he says “...........what”

Oops!!!!!

Now, thankfully, I was already 17 by this point, and he is even more ace than I am, so there was nothing sexual going on between us anyway. But yeah, wow, big oops on my part.

So we’re 400+ miles apart, unknowing enemies-to-lovers, I’m a deliberate home-wrecker, and he’s an accidental cradle-robber. Really checking all the boxes for “what the fuck are you two doing?!”

But thankfully, it all worked out. We’ve been married now for 8 and a half years, 🖤 He’s my world.