#and hopefully makes enough sense

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[maxipad33]

in brazil we went hunting

it was hard finding time to draw while i was in korea but i finally finished this beast on the plane! max verstappen brazil 2024 you are so special to me

also feel free to use as a wallpaper!

alt versions under the cut

[ocwonderland]

When you make music playlists for your OCs, do you add songs based on what you think they would listen to, or based on what you feel describes them, or both?

[yuwuta]

HOW DID YOU GET USED TO THE HAUNTING, THE WILLING, THE MISSING, THE WANTING — YUUTA OKKOTSU

content, warnings. more of the knight yuuta universe yippee. i got an ask about telling him he’d make a good prince and flustering him, and that struck something in me, though this interpretation of that ask is probably a bit darker/more serious than envisioned... i will publish the ask w the other version of this scenario too. unfortunately for everybody involved i was a theater kid and i did listen to cell block tango and the first half of hamilton before i had this idea </3 i’m sorry if you can tell

more notes. set in the same universe as this drabble, which are all set in the same universe as a full fic draft i have and would love to finish some day lol. anyway, say hello to the gojo of this au 

You are not ready to be queen. As much as you resent your mother, your father, the elders in the cabinet, the system you were raised in—as much as you wish to be a ruler that creates change and peace in your court and kingdom, you know that you are not ready to hold that position. 

It shows now more than ever, with your parents being escorted to a neighboring kingdom for a meeting, and you in charge of the harvest ball. There is china to be chosen, silverware to be polished, candlesticks to be blessed, gowns to be sewn, a menu to be curated, a ballroom to be prepared—and you are sorely behind on all of your duties. 

A lackluster princess does not make for a promising queen. And distractions do not help you become anything of yourself. 

“I do not have time to discuss the lilies Sir Gojo. I am aware they are drooping and that they are your favorite, but I do not control the weather,” you sigh, handing back a scroll to a maid before turning to your head knight.

“That sounded very queenly, my little lady! You’ve been practicing,” he towers above you, with a growing smile and little care for your position. He bends forward to press the tip of his gloved pointer finger to your nose, “I too mourn the lilies, but I am afraid I agree: we have much more pressing matters to discuss. Come along, shall we?” 

You’ve learned to be wary of Sir Gojo’s words over the years. He often leads with a false timbre, or makes otherwise simple conversation into a riddle for his own amusement. Even as you’ve learned when to ignore his games, you’ve also grown appreciative of his light demeanor, and his insistence on speaking to you directly, rather than shielding you away. 

You take his arm, looping yours through his, and allow him to lead you down the courtyard steps and into the grand garden. You put your trust in him, allowing your feet to follow the path he sets, and letting your mind wander. You wonder whether you should set the gold or bronze-trimmed plates for the ball, if the curtains should remain closed or open, if the embossed or embellished silverware would leave a better impression on your guests. 

“Princess?” your knight calls for you. You focus your attention back to him, apologizing for your lapse in attention. 

You expect a smile, perhaps another press to your nose and a light scolding, but Gojo’s expression is much more neutral. “Sir?”

“I said that Lord Hajime is dead. His court will send a representative to the harvest ball, but how would you like to proceed?” 

“Dead?” your breath hitches momentarily, “Was he unwell?” 

“I do not know. The letter gave no detail. I believe the court sent an apology for not being able to deliver a suitor as promised. The family wishes to keep this private until after the harvest.” 

When you look up to him, you see no mischief in his expression. He’s serious, and you feel lightheaded, warm, and icy all at once. “I see,” you say, and pull away from Gojo’s arm, “Excuse me. I—I need a moment to myself.”

“You are sick? So suddenly?” Gojo asks, turning with your body so that his back is never to you.

“No—I… I… I need to be alone,” you confess, wrapping your arms around themselves, curling into your own body. Gojo stands firm, a short nod in understanding. He raises his hand to make a signal; an order for the knights on the periphery who can see but not hear. 

You smile, small, grateful for him. “Please, arrange our finest favors, and ask Ieiri for her favorite elixir.” 

Gojo’s smile reflects yours, albeit stained with more sympathy. “Of course.” 

“And tell the maids that I shall postpone the table placements until tomorrow morning. Should you find yourself with time to spare, let me know if you prefer the bronze to gold trim.” 

Gojo nods, taking a half-step to stand in front of you. In times like these, you feel like the little princess under his watch and care from when you were younger. His presence is frightening, overwhelming, and yet, more comforting and welcoming than your own parents. 

Carefully, he leans down to whisper, “Yuuta and his fleet have not yet returned, he will not be in the knight’s chambers. I will send him to you when he arrives.” You blink in sudden awe, and Gojo smiles, reaches for your hand and raises it to his lips to press a chaste kiss, “Do not regret too long, princess.” 

You hear him before you see him. It’s a bad habit for a knight, you think; you can always hear or feel where Yuuta is, even if you can’t see him. You think he ought to be more stealthy, more secretive, quieter; but then again, you don’t. He reserves plenty of stealth for his motives, stores plenty of secrets in his mind, keeps his words quiet or has a way of keeping other people’s quiet. 

The throne room is cold. It’s your least favorite room in the castle, but tonight, you hope it inspires you.

You don’t sit on your throne, you don’t sit on your mother’s or your father’s; you don’t sit at all. You stand, at the top of the stairs, staring at the seats and the tapestry and the paintings of your forefathers that decorate the backdrop. Behind you, at the base of the stairs, Yuuta kneels. You don’t need to see him to know; you can feel it on your palms with your hands behind your back; you can see it in the eyes of your grandfather’s portrait, you can hear it in the way his knee hits the carpet. 

“You may stand.” 

“I shouldn’t, my lady,” Yuuta replies, “Not here.” 

“You do many things you shouldn’t,” you sigh, steady, “Stand, Yuuta.” 

You hear the metal of his armor rustle against itself. You can feel when he stands; it feels like he’s right behind you, even though you know he’s ten steps below you. 

You inhale, slowly; exhale, slowly. Clench your hands behind your back, and then relax your shoulders the way you’ve seen your grandfather do. Then, you speak. “Lord Hajime is dead.” 

You turn, slowly, and wait until your cape has finished its turn, has settled behind you again before you speak again; a tactic your grandmother was fond of. “Lord Hajime is dead,” you repeat, “He is dead, and I asked you not to kill him.” 

Yuuta looks up to you. Neck craned, hands neatly behind his back, his helmet on the carpeted floor to his left. He does not look small. 

You take a step downwards. “I said this is not how I wanted matters to be resolved.” Another step down, a pause, then repeat, “I said that I do not wish to resort to violence.” Another step down, a pause, “To resort to murder.” Another step down, hurried, “I stood under my balcony,” another step, “and I told you not to murder Lord Hajime. I told you not to kill him,” another step; a pause, hysterical, “And yet Lord Hajime is dead. He is dead because—”

“I did not kill him.”

You pause your descent, four steps above Yuuta. You are only half a head taller than him like this. At this distance you can see the gray of his irises, wide and speckled with brown, without a shred of remorse pooling within them. It makes you sneer. 

“You expect me to believe that it is a coincidence that a fortnight after I catch you on your way to murder Lord Hajime, that he dies?” you question, rhetorical, “I am naive, but I am not a fool, Yuuta.” 

“You are no fool, my princess, and Lord Hajime was no saint,” Yuuta shakes his head, “He was a tyrant. He took three wives prior and treated them all as whores. He alone was responsible for the destruction of the crops in the north. He had only himself to blame.” Yuuta pauses, and you see something melt behind steely eyes. “It was a murder, yes, but not a crime.”

Yuuta’s lips wobble slightly, but the rest of him remains upright. It always goes like this: first his head, then his heart, then his body following—in everything he does. You blink, slowly, and take another step down; eye-level with Yuuta at this height. 

“You did not kill him,” you repeat, leveled with revelation, “You just gave the order.” 

Yuuta’s eyelids fall slowly, then his head follows in a shallow nod. He keeps his neck bent, keeps his head hung in front of you. You sigh. 

“Who was it this time,” you ask. He does not raise his head; you do not wait for him to speak, you dip your head so that your lips are level with his ears. “Megumi? Surely he would have hated the way Lord Hajime treated his livestock. Maybe Yuuji—he has been impatient to prove himself since recovering from his last injury. Or perhaps Toge, he would’ve done it swiftly in his sleep, without a sound.”

Yuuta keeps his gaze on the floor, keeps his words quiet. “Nobara.” 

“Dame Nobara, who strives to replace you as my first blade?” you question, “What, as some kind of test of loyalty to you?” 

Yuuta raises his head, eyes stern, brows drawn. “No, princess. To you.” 

You freeze. Your anger flares, and then subsides to only weak embers as you understand Yuuta’s motives, and Sir Gojo’s final words to you. You’re careful when you reach forward to brush your knuckle against Yuuta’s cold cheek, only the kiss of a touch between your finger and his face; even, still, he shudders, and you watch him melt from head to toe; from his eyebrows to his eyes to his lips to his shoulders to his knees. 

“You are disobedient, and indignant, and ruthless,” you list, voice soft, touch softer as you allow your fingers to graze the top of his ears, adoring the flush that follows, “And kind, and careful, and charming.”

You watch the color stain Yuuta’s cheeks and his ears, you revel in the pout on his lips, and the effort of his breathing. You only wish he were this easy to tame all the time. 

Still, he precious to you, so you are careful when you raise your opposite hand to his face, taking advantage of the difference in your status and stature to tilt his head upwards, lean down and press your words against his cheek, “You would make for a lovely prince,” you tell him, “The people would love you. Our enemies would fear you. The soldiers would respect you.” The kisses between your sentences are featherweight, trailed from the high point of his cheekbone to the corner of his lips.

You can feel him quiver when you pull back, moving a palm back to his cheek to pinch his skin between your thumb and forefinger, “If only you knew how to listen.” 

Yuuta winces, but he does not pull away. He parts his lips to steady his breath, and then to speak, strained, “Please, princess. Have mercy.” 

And for the first time in a fortnight you smile, watching splotched skin stain your knight’s cheeks when you soften your hold on him. You pull Yuuta’s head up further, lean yours down for a careful kiss; short, chaste, the kind you know he hates the most. 

“Oh, Yuuta,” you coo, grazing your thumb against his face, endeared by his wide eyes and quiet whimpers, “This is mercy.”

[alicentsgf]

think its important we all agree to form a distinction between "i am mad this character died at all" and "so far i do not think this death was handled well" because these are actually two different opinions which are getting conflated a lot atm

[witcheshollow]

Finishing the golden raven knocked me the fuck out so my Coherent and Eloquent thoughts are gonna have to wait so enjoy this very spoilery mash up of whatever is coming to mind now before I do a proper deep dive

-I was really expecting more in terms of jerejean development, but Im not surprised that nora is waiting until the last book. I would assume there is also a bit to do with them having originally not been intended for one another... and on that front I dont remember nora ever confirming them officially just her deleting the ec and saying she isnt letting it define these three books. Which does point to jerejean endgame but ((and correct me NICELY if im wrong)) she never officially said the two of them are to get together.

-tagging off that point: something about the pacing of this book felt very similar to the pacing of tkm. There were quite a few scenes that felt very similar to tkm, the general flow was also very similar. Just instead of jerejeans relationship forming we got jean forming relationships in general

-again tagging onto that, the scene where he braided lailas hair was the scene that made me cry hardest.

-what we saw of the foxes made me so violently ill in the best way possible. The fear in jean at seeing neil laying on the court floor after a raven check AGAIN was so brutal, even through jeremys pov. I dont think we would have survived the raven/fox game through jeans eyes tbh. Jean had too much on the line. He would never admit it but he loves neil, Neil is essentially family to him. We see that in his blind and unending trust in him

-again, sue me, speaking of that. Why the fuck did neil not tell AT LEAST Andrew abt his doings in california??? Was it to avoid bringing up andrews trauma?? Bc anything else goes so violently against everything that andriel is i will not stand for it. If this fandom is good at one thing its saying to hell with canon and making up what we want to believe and I will blind myself into whatever fanon I need to if we get a reason for neils omission as anything other than misguided protection of Andrew. Bc yes, it would be misguided. Letting his bf know he put a fucking hit out on someone is smt he should have done despite the state and circumstances. Though I digress

-back to jean and the fox/raven game. He was so fucking worried abt neil and andrew that I all out refuse to believe we wont get more updates. I know that this series is jeans, and Im not saying give either of them a pov or anything, but it would be nice if we got to see the two of them have a conversation with Jean together in the next book. Maybe andrews arm slung across neils shoulders as they watch him graduate??

-im pretty sure what we are leading up to championship wise is a fox/trojan showdown. Despite what Jean said abt not knowing if the foxes can pull off a miracle two years in a row and the whole freshman fox situation, Im betting that is going to be where we end. And as far as who wins, I have no guesses. The foxes beat the ravens at full strength with nine players and a prayer. Despite how badly the last of the ravens fucked them up, I am willing to put good money that nora will plot armor their asses to championships.

-speaking of plot armor, how the fuck did andrew manage to take neils weight, even if it wasnt all of it, to help him off the field with a broken clavicle that required surgery???? Ik wymack and abby got there in a couple seconds but Andrew still managed to do it

-okay Ill, begrudgingly, put the foxes aside bc i have more thoughts

-I love jeremy, Jean, cat and lailas casual intimacy with one another. The four of them move as a singular unit half the time and it holds a special place in my heart

-I do kind of think that this next book is going to end with Jeremy forsaking his family. We are seeing the cracks in whatever resolve he had up and to this point. And to back that up, while their different in so many ways, the series is taking some hints from the structure of the original trilogy and with that I dont think its an unreasonable stretch to assume that there is going to be another "who is he going to choose" moment. And how beautiful would that be to have the choice be between soulmate and family yet again? This time tho I think we will get a clearer answer if this happens again bc it genuinely took me like two full rereads of the og trilogy to piece together that andrew actually chose neil and I know from friends that Im not alone in this.

-as far as jerejean, I do think that the progression of their relationship is going to be similar tho different from andriels. Also I use their ship names to refere to them bc im too exhausted to type out their names, sue me. Anyways, I think that as far as similarities, there is a good chance it is going to start out sexual. Jeremy doesnt have enough belief in himself to have an actual relationship and Jean still has a lot of internalized homophobia from the nest ((riko)) to sort through. If I had to make an educated guess I would say something abt Jean reclaiming his body and Jeremy slowly realizing that he is allowed to give this part of himself to someone who actually cares for him. Though as far as how I think their gonna be different from andriel... well I mean it doesnt take a genius to figure that their probably going to be a bit more openly affectionate/quite a bit less derranged. I do also assume that if we get a canonical endgame jerejean that Jeremy is going to have to cut ties with his family. They are violently homophobic and will probably not have any interest in entertaining the idea of jeremy being associated with them any further

-stepping away from their relationship bc i just remembered something. Jeremy calls his father sir, which i know is a thing a lot of military kids do but it is also obviously indicative that Jeremy has respect for this man regardless of his continued absence in his life. It might just be that he is the parent who wasnt there to be abusive towards him... or it might be that jeremys father, in some way, deserves the respect?? We know Jeremy has a complicated relationship with his family and how he sees them we see that in his "shes my mom cat" towards the end and ofc throughout the rest of the book. But Jeremy was the one who kept reaching out, and kept his fathers calls logged in a journal, and still refers to him with honorifics- i want more Jeremy lore

-back to jerejean, im willing to bet that we are going to get an "i cant pick him over my family" breakdown from Jeremy and Im guessing that it is going to be William who helps him make the decision. "If you cant tell whos side im on your not as smart as I thought" or whatever it was that he said. He wants Jeremy to be happy, he knows Jeremy is not happy in that damn house, and he has shown that he is willing to buck the rules to ensure that Jeremy can scrounge up whatever joy he can.

-I think jeans moment of panic is going to be more of an internal thing, like "am I even good enough to ask Jeremy to forsake his family for me" and despite all the logic I think it is going to be Neil who he calls. Bc Neil did that. As far as Jean knows Neil could have deadass looked at Andrew and went "me or Aaron" he wasnt there for it like we were. And I think Neil is going to be his usual criptic self but give enough reassurance that he gets an affectionate "your a vile wretch" from Jean or smt of the sort.

-wymack still considering Jean one of his kids even if he isnt a fox warms my heart. He called Jean. He let kevin send Jean to California. He was willing to do whatever Jean asked. Wymack my love

-speaking of coaches who kill me every chance they get: rhemann. Fucking hell i love that man. He had my heart before jeans breakdown but afterwards? He earned himself a nice shiny spot next to wymack. With the way Jean described the preceeding events Im assuming rhemann had to carry him out of the gold court or at the very least shoulder most of his weight to get him out bc Jean seemed fairly out of it, and rhemann definetly had to carry him into the house once they got there bc if jeans recollection is right Im pretty sure he was unconscious and if not then so heavily disassociated I dont think he would have been coherent enough.

-also small shout out to rhemann and adi, love them

-the end scene of the book has me conflicted. And this is probably going to be my last bullet point bc I am dead tired rn. While I do, obviously, understand that Jean wasnt sure what Jeremy was doing when he leaned over to kiss rex/jaberwackys head, I dont really understand what Jeans gut reaction there was. He doesnt explain in his internal monologue, he is far more worried abt making Jeremy less terrified and keeping the dog safe. But the reaction was instinctual, almost seemingly second nature. Which I dont 100% understand. Jeremy and Jean are often very close to one another, in each others orbit more than their not to quote Jean ((yes I know he said this abt andriel that isnt what I meant)) and Jean has stated repeatedly that he whole heartedly trusts Jeremy. Also the gut reaction in context doesnt necessarily make sense to me, it might be a me thing Im not discrediting that, and also traumatized people sometimes have instincts that only make sense to them if that bc their brain is in survival mode, so it might have been an attempt by nora to show that, but having it as the last scene in the book feels odd to me. The only thing I can assume is that Jean wasnt processing what was happening just saw jeremy coming at him quickly and reacted but also we see him not reacting to other similar situations often. You could argue that its bc Jean has feelings for Jeremy but we see Jean not reacting to Jeremy making fast movements, getting in his space and touching him throughout the series so far so I just dont get it. Now there could be a less meta reason for it, being that nora needed smt to trigger Jean thinking abt how the rules he has held to arent in place anymore but they are for him but maybe he could let them go but trauma. But he thinks pretty similar thoughts in other parts of the series too so I just dont understand. And it might be me, Im not saying it vouldnt be. Idk, I feel like the last scene in thebbook was an odd place to have such a vaugely explained and not previously seen trauma response from Jean towards Jeremy.

Okay thats all. Im gonna reread the series with tgr and give more well rounded and coherent thoughts some time in the next week. If you read all of this consider yourself a saint

[buwheal]

Hello spamton! It’s fun to see how other people draw you and such, it makes me wonder how you would draw yourself! Self portrait please, if you wanna!

[stargirlo]

𝓜EET THE FUSHIGURO'S — ( 𝕿 ) OJI FUSHIGURO │ "dear babygirl, i'm sorry that your father is not active inside your world." (angst)

not everyone has such a perfect life, but not everyone has such a complex life. things aren't meant to go in a straight line, but things also aren't meant to be in a bumpy ride. everything felt like a maze, trying to find a way to escape this hell hole without any blocks or bumps coming into life — your life, toji's life. everyone has goals, everyone has dreams, everyone can achieve some of their goals and dreams, but some of them don't. and it's fucking hard to overcome that.

being in a relationship with toji fushiguro, ah, toji fushiguro. you aren't married to him but somehow you managed to birth out two beautiful children, first being a beautiful baby boy, megumi fushiguro. he's identical to toji, same hair, same facial features, everything looked alike between the two. in the next few years, a beautiful baby girl now came into the world, tsumiki fushiguro. personality wise, she's just like you, a kind-hearted soul, a sweet girl who should be held with care. you know those stickers that are added to packages when you buy something that can break easily; "fragile. handle with care." yeah, that's tsumiki, and you.

even if the family of four didn't have all the luxury, they say that it's the littlest things that can balm your shell.

remember how you used to be so fragile, so kind, and so, so sweet. well that wasn't permanent, and it was only temporary as soon as toji was on and off with family. you know he's working, but you don't know what or who he's working for or who he's even working with. even a man can have his own struggles; but what kind? gambling problems? drinking problems? pill-popping and spending problems? bad with money? only toji knows.

"mama when is daddy coming back?" "is daddy gonna come to my ninth birthday?" "are we gonna watch frozen with daddy?" "is daddy gonna help us with our timetables?"

those questions tire you because you don't know, you really don't. you wish you could explain where he's at, but with so little information and so little contact, you don't know where the fuck that man is.

until this one night where you left yourself and toji into shambles.

carefully leaving your bed in which tsumiki and megumi are currently sleeping in, you set yourself off to leave and relax on the living room. it took some time for the kids to sleep, it took more time for you to even sleep despite having to wake up early for work tomorrow.

not until the jangling keys were hear through the front door, and the loud creak audibly heard across the hallway and onto the living room. he's here. you looked across the room just to make sure it was him, even though you know it is him because he's the only one that has a spare apartment key to his own place. or rather your place now.

"the fucking nerve," you grumble under your breath, a vein almost popping out of your skin. getting up from the couch you came up to him, the reeking scent of alcohol lingered just two feet away from you. the musky scent of sweat and dirt combined with such a foul smell that made your whole face twist and scrunch. eye bags were visible, hair disheveled and greasy, lips chapped, breath probably smelling horrible, and clothes needing to be washed asap. he's a fucking mess.

"mm- what? 'm home..." he spoke lowly, scratching his head as he always kept up his nonchalant nature. one of his hands held a medium sized plastic bag, hanging lazily between his fingers. "yeah no shit." you said sternly, arms crossing in disbelief as your eyes followed all over him like he was some sort of homeless person. "what's up with you? why're mad, babe..?" he cocked a brow, energy low and definitely not in the mood to hear your constant babbling.

you scoffed. what is up with you anyway? is he fucking with you? "what's up with me is that you didn't come home in almost about a month. you look like a fucking mess and you smell like absolute shit." now the jet black haired man knew that shit was getting serious, the way you're just talking to him like that, and the way you're saying that he smells like shit. he needs to tighten up because your points are right about him. "what a nice way to welcome me back, thought i was expecting a kiss or sumn'–"

"are you kidding me, toji? showing up at midnight and acting all nonchalant and shit. you don't understand how fucking worried i was for you? even the kids were asking me about you, keeping them on their toes everyday without any news from you and praying that you'll be okay. do you understand what you are fucking putting me through just now? work was the only thing being up my ass and now there are multiple other things that i have in my hands and in my care." you rasped, eyebrows pinching together as frustration slowly seeped into your nerves, holding back the urge to lash at him. "instead of you, the man of the house, having all the courage to take care of its family, you fucking destroy it. fucking us all up." your hands ball into fists, the whole scene turning into a tense argument.

"you should've been teaching megumi his timetables, or maybe watching frozen with tsumiki. you missed out on my baby girl's birthday, she just turned nine and i could tell that her birthday wish was for you to come back." slowly, your voice started to crack, salty tears welling up your dropping eyes. "and what have you been doing during those times where i've worked my ass off overtime at a fucking convenient store? huh? i'm so tired, toji, and i bet you are too. but the way you're just unexpectedly showing up when you're the reason you've put me at my lowest is fucking unacceptable." you spat, a streak of tear running down your cheek. toji exhales deeply, knowing how you feel and it was actually his fault that you turned out this way. guilt and frustration washes through him, not having any other excuse about his absence.

"look, the point is that 'm here now. and i promise that i won't leave without letting you know, i promise i'll build a connection with our kids–" and then again, you interrupted his promises. "promise? hah– you? promising something that you'll do again? make up your fucking mind, toji. you broke our promises, you said that you'll marry me someday; that's a fucking lie. you said you'll get payed more and pay off our bills; that's also a fucking lie because you're using that shit to buy rum and gamble out the money that could save our life. look at you, fucking pathetic. you're embarrassing yourself at this point because i know what your true intentions are, toji. are you still popping pills to keep yourself at your feet? did you fuck whores at a brothel while you're at it?" those bitter and heartless words have left toji in shock, of course it has, you know him well and clear — like he was an open book to you.

"did you buy tsumiki the barbie doll that she asked for a few months ago? or did you gamble that money?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as your expression was evident that you were not buying this. "because i know for sure that i was counting pennies at the grocery store to buy that fucking toy for tsumiki–" you spat, holding back from having a psychotic episode before toji's gruff voice interrupted you now. "don't speak like that if you're going to mention our daughter." he gives off a warning, but you could only scoff at disbelief at it, why's he all of a sudden caring so much? "our daughter? no no no, you barely did shit for her and now you're trying to be on your goody-two-shoes to act like you care about our daughter? where were you when i gave birth to her, huh? where were you when i gave birth to megumi?" your voice echoed through the hallway, the argument getting louder that the kids would probably hear it.

"megumi, why's mommy yelling?" tsumiki asked in a hoarse voice, waking up to the ruckus happening outside of the bedroom. megumi softly hushed the little girl, placing his hands that are slightly bigger than hers to her ears, muffling your shouts and derogatory words. "it's gonna be okay, she's just talking to daddy..." he murmured reassuringly, hiding the fact that he's on the edge of tearing up after finding out the truth about the absence of his father.

"you're acting like you did most of the work when you haven't been on my shoes." toji stated, his stomach twisting at the fact that you bought up the way he wasn't with you during labor. "because i did most of the work you dickhead! you barely didn't show up for your own family, for your own lover who was giving birth to your fucking kids! how would you think i was feeling during that time toji?! squeezing the nurses hand instead of yours while i was popping my ass off to give you two beautiful kids into this shitty life!" you shouted, already having a mental breakdown as more tears bubbled within your lower lashline. "you never open about yourself, you never show any ounce of affection ever since we had kids, you never did the bare minimum to show that you still love us! you're a fucking disappointment toji! you don't know nothing about taking care of things. waking up the kids? know nothing about that. teaching them basic human decency? know nothing about that. telling them to pray? know nothing about that. taking them to school? you know nothing about that." and that was the breaking point. the plastic bad dropped down to the floor as his calloused hands quickly loomed over to you to grab you at your shoulders.

"call me a disappointment one more time 'n see what fucking happens." he shook you like you were mentally ill, thinking that some sense would come to your mind. but could you let him get this physical with you? fuck no. "don't touch me you freak!" you squealed, hands that are smaller than his large ones grab his wrists as an attempt to pull away from his embrace. "can you take a second to understand what i've been going through?! jesus... haven't had a single moment to express myself for just a fucking minute." he grunts, the grip on your shoulders loosening up as he wasn't daring himself to even hurt you. no way.

"and what do you have to say to this, huh?! stop trying to figure out a useless excuse so that i could come back to you like nothing happened." you sniffled through your nose, soft hiccups eliciting through your slightly swollen lips. "please just hear me out–" toji exclaims, showing an ounce of vulnerability that he wasn't planning on expressing. "no! take your fucking shit and leave this goddamn place," you quickly push him away from your personal bubble, grasping the plastic bag and slamming it at his chest. "you're nothing but a fucking deadbeat who doesn't even deserve to be called a 'father'." and with that, he's standing by the front doorway, mentality absolutely destroyed as his face uttuerly grew pale. this was it. this was over.

"if you weren't raised in such a fucked up clan, maybe you shouldn't have been such a shit dad."

-

the aftermath of the argument left toji having a hole to his stomach. it was like daggers were digging deeper and deeper into his gut. what you yelled and screamed at him for was probably right, maybe he is a shit father; maybe he was born in a fucked up family and turned out this way. the plastic bag swung between his thick fingers, walking like a kicked puppy in the rain as he was lost in his thoughts.

a nearby trash can was visible along his way, now carelessly throwing away the bag and discarding it with the rest of the trash and pests that were there. what was in that bag anyway? take-out? alcohol? meds? no. they were two gifts that megumi and tsumiki were asking for a few months ago. a pretty blonde barbie doll in her pink little dress, and a few stacks of digimon cards. all of that went to waste.

meet the fushiguro's.

note: phewww, that was a lot. updating my masterlist tmrw. have a good night everyoneeeeeeeeee.

⠀( OWNED BY ) STARGIRLO.

do not plagiarize any of my works , translate them , or repost them anywhere around any other social media platform . thank you .

[afictionalthing]

fictionfolk, how do you view yourself in your source material, if there's more than one interpretation/version/portrayal of you in media?

ie. pilot vs final show, comic vs movie, older movie vs newer movie, etcetera. since those tend to portray characters with at least slight differences.

so, I'm curious. would you say that you consider both/all of those 'other versions of yourself' to be you? or does it feel more like a whole different person based off of you in some way? or maybe an incorrect portrayal of yourself? or like all of those interpretations are correct in their own way?

[daeyumi]

i wasn’t sure if u meant canon dark link or my own take as in my au version, so u get both

[the-meme-monarch]

people can Famously do whatever they want especially when it comes to enjoying media and generally i find this to be a good thing. but unfortunately i am a strange and unusual autistic that generally sticks very very close to canon. all this to say i don’t Get It when people headcanon k_k deltarune as using they/them Only or even she/her Only when he has literally been referred to with ‘he’ by one of the people presumably closest to him(brothers to me)

for the record i think he is he/they. i think all three of them are he/they. maybe even canonically but people fight me on this one (really just capn and kk since sweet has only indirectly been referred to as they like in the following screenshot from the wiki (bc I didn’t want to watch a video of their fight to screenshot and crop flavor text) BUT they’re still called by generally masculine terms alongside the other two like ‘guys’ (ost “almost to the guys”) and ‘young men’ (by seam)) (and they use overly-masculine self-referential pronouns in japanese, along with capn)

like im Fairly Certain the individual of scc are still the only one being lost in the groove in dance x. the “they” in ‘they’re totally lost in the groove’ is still Just One of scc. I don’t believe the fun gang are lost in the groove bc honestly they don’t talk like any of this fight was fun for them HSHSHDNDHDJDJ

also incase it isn’t clear i think it’s chill to add on she/her to k_k’s pronouns. people can famously do whatever they want especially when it comes to enjoying media and generally I think this is good. but saying they use she/her (or they/them) ONLY and not In Conjunction With is where I go “well. no. the game called him he. so he/him has to be part of their pronouns?” and i recognize it’s probably petty and stupid to care about to like any degree but know I don’t say this with hate in my heart

and of course there’s nuance like maybe the idea is they Change their pronouns later on but idk no one ever says this

[mitamicah]

Warm (coloured) and soft Janace with some butterflies to bookend this Valentine reason 🥰🦋 I had drawn this piece of mr. and mr. superglue to be my valetnine's piece but when as my surgery grew closer, I had my doubts whether I would be able to finish it even before the end of february .. I am glad I did just managed to get it in the nick of time. Honestly, going back to render this drawing at random moments during the post op recovery has been a blessing since I then didn't have to spend all my brainpower on coming up with a motive but just draw. Bonus (under line) the original flat colour version (finished feb 10 just before my surgery two days later)

[kittycatred]

hm... two neatly folded pride flags floating. weird. oh wait. no its probably just Dark.

they get placed on the floor next to Red. on top is a note in red ink. it reads as follows:

"I got distracted. its hard to communicate but Im here. dont know for how long. this place gives me goosebumps. -TDL"

a few of the letters had lines struck through them. as if Dark's hand occasionally jerked trying to write on it.

above... two floating gloves? one of them made a peace sign as some sort of greeting.

this was probably the only way hed be able to be seen or interact with the world as he was for most. he hoped cat red did not somehow misunderstand the situation. in fact he offered one of the gloved hands to be sniff-inspected. as was the courtesy with cats.

- @avasts-nightmare ((I tried so hard to have his introduction makes sense wehhh. this guy went through so much within a few weeks))

red walked over to the flags on the ground, sniffing them briefly, as they started to purr after realizing what they were, not only that, but who they were from

his attention was towards the letter briefly, ( miraculously, still able to read whilst being a cat ), eventually glancing up to eye the gloved hands above

however, despite the gloves being at red's eye level, red kept....glancing upwards occasionally ? almost as if xe saw something...rather someone...?

red sniffed the glove, silently appreciative over the courtesy, but as she did so, her gaze now was steadily eyeing up, briefly squinting, as their head slightly tilts in curiosity, almost as if trying to discern if what xe sees is real, or not

odd....its almost as if they could faintly see dark....?

[babacontainsmultitudes]

I'm not the first person to bring this up but, I do feel that the general response to the gun range scene has mostly failed to acknowledge the context that would call for such extreme levels of self-defense training in the first place. We know from episode 23 that even just a few years after the release of the doodler (when Lark and Sparrow themselves are still just teens) things are already pretty bad (to the extent that in Lark's case the stress of it all has already begun to take a physical toll on him- don't forget that he and Sparrow too were once kids who had the world placed on their shoulders), and one need only look at how quickly the situation with the mayor has degraded to imagine how bad things would have gotten by the time Hero was 12. Training your six-year-old to use a gun in a normal or at least mostly normal world? Batshit crazy. Training your six-year-old to use a gun in a world overrun by an eldritch horror where danger, death, and the possibility of corruption from said eldritch horror are around every corner? Still intense but, much easier to understand the reasoning behind.

oh oops it's a long post woops woops woops

In Sparrow's case in particular, we know that he behaves quite differently under alternative circumstances, and that Normal (Hero too for that matter) lives a pretty different life in a post code purple world:

Not that it hasn't been Sparrow's intent and priority to mitigate the extent to which Normal was caught up in everything from the get-go, as evidenced by his namesake. Recall what he had to say on the matter:

In some ways this extreme self-defense training is a "two sides of the same coin" sort of deal vis-a-vis Grant's extreme isolation of Lincoln for his protection, a major difference being that Lincoln still deals with this in a post code purple world (to the extent that he literally had to pretend to starve himself to get his dad to let him go to public school), whereas Normal and Hero get the chance to live mostly normal lives and do as they please (the disapproving words of a drunken and partially-doodlerized Sparrow aside), now removed from the immediate threat of the doodler.

Hero's case is, at least from what we currently know about the prophecy, more complicated than Norm's. It is easy to reprimand Lark and Sparrow as being the worst parents (and/or uncles) whilst forgetting that their circumstances are fundamentally different from the other kiddads. The first half of this lying in their shared responsibility (and guilt) in releasing the doodler. Grant and Nicky can retreat to their respective homes on the basis that this is the best they can do, resolving to put their energy into protecting their closest ones first and foremost. At the end of the day, they aren't really any more responsible for dealing with the doodler than any other bystander. The same cannot be said of Lark and Sparrow, who can't exactly look away from the fact that they were the ones who brought the doodler into the world. At least from their perspectives- of course Lark (and Sparrow by extension) in reality was a child that was manipulated into doing what he did, which as some people have pointed out is not dissimilar to what happened to Normal at the end of this episode (and if Sparrow felt the need to rid Normal of his memories of this event in particular, perhaps it was to spare his child from feeling guilty about it for the rest of his life).

The second half of what differentiates them is, of course, the prophecy (right- now we can actually get to Hero lol). We must remember that, as far as the twins knew, the only way to actually "defeat" the doodler permanently was through the chosen one, i.e. Hero (probably- after last episode I'm starting to think that Norm may be more directly involved in the prophecy than previously thought, but that's a tangent). "Continue to let the being you released into the world kill and torture millions (very likely billions) of people, which could wind up including both of your children, or put your ill-fated child through very intense and ultimately traumatizing training to put an end to it, potentially losing her in the process", is essentially the choice the twins were given. Hero isn't made to kill a deer with her bare hands for the hell of it, she goes through what she does because Lark (who likely did not see the same thing that Normal did on the throne- or at the very least interpreted things very differently) and Sparrow had no reason to believe that there was any other possibility. This certainly does not negate or undermine the extent to which Hero was deeply traumatized by it all, but it's not exactly a detail that you can choose to ignore when discussing the ethics of Lark and Sparrow's decision-making.

And yet, despite it all, Sparrow and Lark do ultimately chose saving their children over saving the world. Not before significant damage has already been done (to Hero that is), but they do decide to go through with the one plan that allows both of their children to (hopefully) live a doodler-free life: code purple. Code purple, which ultimately reduces to a trolley problem with a presumably near-equal number of people on both tracks, with the important difference of sparing their own children in one case, and likely not the other. And if we want to talk about Henry's ethical stance in the matter and how it compares to the twins, we need to consider what it says about him if he was *not* in favor of code purple, with all of this in mind. Not to come to any hasty conclusions about Henry either- I think there remains too many unknowns on that front to assume much and... Ultimately it's a complicated matter! But that's kind of my point.

Even post code purple, Lark and Sparrow (and the rest of the kiddads) try to pursue that which they believe (or at least hope) will both put an end to the doodler without involving their children and without the enactment of the prophecy. Is blowing up an entire world with the sun to save all the others a plan I'm gonna sit here and defend? I don't think so lol, but you can't exactly look at it and pretend that Lark and Sparrow don't care about protecting their fucking kids.

My point isn't that Lark and Sparrow haven't made a lot of mistakes and questionable decisions, my point is that their circumstances are so much less black and white than the majority of the takes I see on them make them out to be, and a lot of the conclusions I see people jump to when it comes to the twins' feelings and intentions strike me as... Pretty odd? Tangentially-related: if you don't think Sparrow is someone who is affectionate with and deeply loves his kids despite his flaws, I don't really think we're listening to the same podcast. But even in Lark's case, yes he's more subtle about it and yes, Lark can be quick to anger (not that I personally read him yelling in the last episode as anger so much as panic but all the same), but affection can be sewing bulletproof material into your nephew's mascot costume, or secretly taking him out for pizza, or pretending to be his dad so that you can tell him you're proud of him, or putting your gun down when he asks you to. The twins are anything but perfect but, fuck if they aren't trying (and changing, and improving). And yes, they deserve some damn nuance.

Also, okay, I couldn't really find a neat way to bring this up in the above but, speaking of no-nuance and bad faith takes, can we talk about the locks? Or lack thereof, rather. "How could they be so stupid as to leave the door unlocked?" you're right, that does seem odd, and Anthony made a point to explain that every other door was very thoroughly locked, and Normal seemed to have practically been moved into opening the door against his own will so... Hear me out, maybe, just maybe, the door usually *is* locked??? And something fishy or unusual is afoot? I also wouldn't take their immediate, knee-jerk reactions to a dangerous flesh monster being released to come to any conclusions on whether or not Lark and Sparrow "blame" six-year-old Normal for it. In Sparrow's case, I struggle to even imagine it. In Lark's case, though I wouldn't put him above getting angry over it, my doubts on his deeper feelings are still high. Conversely, if he actually did place some of the blame on Normal, at the very least there is an interesting discussion to be had on how this relates to Lark's own guilt over what Willy manipulated him into doing, and subsequently being denied the catharsis of punishment. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Like I said, a lot of important things are yet unknown.

*breathes* okay end of overdue ramble [insert proper conclusion paragraph here lol], thank you.

[marimbles]

random question…

Or another way to frame it: do you think it’s rude to comment in another language? Would you be annoyed if someone commented on your work in another language?

[spooksforsammy]

The topics of special education, sped students etc are complex. Especially when get into what should be called.

Yes. Call me what Am. Am disabled am autistic. But also no problem called special needs or sped. Because am that.

So many say drop sped and special needs all together. Because the students don’t like. But what about the one do like? Me and some people personally knew liked and were okay with sped + special needs. Sometimes prefer that term.

Don’t be afraid say disabled. Or autistic. Or whatever. But the goal should be call students what they prefer, which could be special needs or sped.

Sometimes to get what need. Have call self sped or special needs. So naturally have no problem. The problem is forcing lable onto others. Especially if have shown discomfort or dislike to that term. Similar to low/ high functioning.