#but it has also applied to the following:

[technofeudalism]

why are we even doing this with these fucking idiots? this is not an accusation made in a vacuum and they know it.

April 2024:

Elon Musk’s X is a thriving hub for Nazi support and propaganda, with paid subscribers sharing speeches by Adolf Hitler or content praising his genocidal regime.  NBC News found that at least 150 paid “Premium” subscriber X accounts and thousands of unpaid accounts have posted or amplified pro-Nazi content on X in recent months, often in apparent violation of X’s rules. The paid accounts posting the content all consistently posted antisemitic or pro-Nazi material. Examples included praise of Nazi soldiers, sharing of Nazi symbols and denials of the Holocaust.  The pro-Nazi content is not confined to the fringes of the platform. During one seven-day period in March, seven of the most widely shared pro-Nazi posts on X accrued 4.5 million views in total. One post with 1.9 million views promoted a false and long-debunked conspiracy theory that 6 million Jews did not die in the Holocaust. More than 5,300 verified and unverified accounts reshared that post, and other popular posts were reshared hundreds of times apiece.  X’s policies ban glorifying violence — a broad prohibition that X has sometimes used to take down pro-Nazi content and accounts. The rules also ban “praising violent entities” and say the platform will apply labels to hate imagery like swastikas. But NBC News found that X does not appear to be enforcing those policies consistently.  The findings are the latest evidence of a flourishing Nazi network on X under Musk’s ownership. Previous investigations by news organizations and anti-hate watchdogs have documented many examples of antisemitism, white supremacy and support for Nazism on X. 

...

Squire, of the Southern Poverty Law Center, said the proliferation of pro-Nazi content is the result of multiple decisions by Musk since he bought the platform: cutting content moderators, changing the rules about who got verification, reinstating banned accounts and restricting the data stream that outside watchdogs used to research Twitter.  Many researchers have complained that it is now difficult or impossible to measure the reach of extremism on X because of the new restrictions Musk has imposed.  “It’s safety through obscurity: Make it really hard for people to see the problem, and then you can pretend it doesn’t exist,” Squire said. 

...

Some Nazi supporters have also said they have noticed a rise in sympathetic posts. One account, referring to Hitler as “the Boss,” wrote recently: “I’m seeing the Boss’ speeches and quotes more and more on social media, from people youd never expect.”  Rather than crack down on antisemitic posts, Musk has used his massive platform to promote antisemitic conspiracy theories. Last year, he embraced the concept of the “great replacement,” which says there is a top-down plot to replace the white population with nonwhite people. His posts on the subject drew condemnation from the White House and led to an exodus of advertisers. Following the backlash over his statements, Musk visited Israel and traveled to the former Nazi death camp Auschwitz with conservative commentator Ben Shapiro. Musk also reinstated the accounts of prominent neo-Nazis Andrew Anglin and Nick Fuentes. Both are now suspended, although videos in which Fuentes questions the Holocaust still spread widely on X. 

there are so many articles like this. like... a lot of them. all before the election even took place.

maybe if these dipshits could have taken two minutes to stop playing the victim while writhing in ecstasy over their precious fascist apartheid state brutally slaughtering and raping Palestinians all summer because they were afraid Hamas is come get them in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, they might have had to reckon with the fact that they have been siding with the fascists the whole time by now.

Musk & the anti-defamation league

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Research Process

Research is an essential process to keep yourself informed on any topic with reliable sources of information.

Research - the process by which you gather reliable information on a specific topic, typically to answer a particular question, form an opinion, or make a decision.

Academics often separate research into 2 distinct types:

primary research (in which the researcher acquires firsthand experience with the topic) and

secondary research (in which the researcher looks at research others have done on the topic).

There are many different research methods, including:

internet research (using search engines, webpages, and other online resources),

scientific research (using the scientific method to test hypotheses),

local and university library research (using books, encyclopedias, newspaper articles, peer-reviewed journal articles, catalogs, and academic databases and directories), and

interviews (using questionnaires and discussions with subjects).

How to Research

The research process can apply to everything from a scientific research paper to a personal question; each type of research has different expectations and processes. In general, here’s a step-by-step tutorial:

Start with a question. The first step of the research process is to have a question. In the case of academic research, your research question might be on a broad conversation in your field. For example, in humanities, a research question might be: “How did feminism affect American literature in the 1970s?” In the case of personal research, your question might be smaller and more specific: “How do I wake up feeling more rested?” If your research is for a high school or college paper, you might need to brainstorm to come up with a question or move on to the research phase to see what kinds of questions and broad topics interest you.

Search broadly. Your preliminary research on a topic is likely to be general—this search strategy enables you to gather as much general information surrounding the topic as possible. This helps you develop a clearer sense of the scope of your question. In the case of academic research, you might read widely (in topics like feminism, the 1970s, and American literature). In the case of personal research, you might conduct general internet searches for secondary sources that discuss related topics (like alarm clocks, pillows, and meditation techniques).

Narrow your focus. As you conduct research, pay attention to the moments that pique your interest—use them to determine where to conduct more in-depth research. Perhaps a specific novelist seems especially interesting, or you find yourself more drawn to alarm clocks than memory-foam pillows. It is at this stage you should also take time to evaluate the information sources you’ve found to make sure they’re reliable and unbiased.

Conduct specific research. Once your question begins to narrow, you might need to do additional research to hone in on your particular topic. Look around to see if other researchers have had similar questions and published or posted their findings. Alternatively, you might do some primary research and begin testing particular hypotheses. For an academic research paper, it is at this stage you likely have enough information to begin crafting your thesis statement or central claim.

Complete the project. The final stage of the research process is to complete your research project—this might mean writing a final paper, forming a particular opinion, or purchasing a specific solution for your problem. For research that involves writing and publishing a paper, the researcher must also abide by rules of plagiarism, citation information and formats—such as the Modern Language Association (MLA), American Psychological Association (APA), Chicago, and so forth. Even though this is the final step of the research process, it doesn’t mean the project is closed forever—you might find later you need or want to do follow-up research as the topic or your interests change.

Research is a vital process that increases your knowledge and understanding around a topic, rather than forcing you to rely on simply your own background information. Good research allows you to become more informed before you answer a question, to consider all angles before you form an opinion, and to use the experience of others before you make a decision.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[starmapz]

what you know - ch9: (ex) friends || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety (attacks). tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.2k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon

With a soft click, the Career Services Office door shuts behind you. Dropping your bag on the bench just outside the door, you pull Shoko’s attention from her phone.

“So? How did it go?”

Slipping paperwork carefully into your bag, you nod. “Good! I only need to make a couple of changes to my resume and cover letter and they gave me some good suggestions for options,” you explain.

As a part of your final couple of semesters in your final year, your Copy Editing and Proofreading class has an internship requirement. On one hand it’s stressful, especially given that you’ll need to adjust your life to the schedule of having an internship on Tuesdays and Thursdays on top of classes throughout the week, but you’re also excited.

And then there’s the case of Sukuna.

Although you wouldn’t exactly call the last time you saw him a pleasant encounter given Sukuna had broken down, not to mention his abrupt departure, his emails had been a bit more reassuring.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Friday, 6:02 PM home?

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Friday, 6:24 PM Home! Thanks for checking in, Kuna :)

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Friday, 6:29 PM yeah. thanks for earlier. makes it easier to be around the kids

You had smiled to yourself as it seemed he was finally admitting to the fact that maybe help wasn’t so bad. Maybe he didn’t have to handle everything alone.

More encouraging still, was his follow up email.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Friday, 6:32 PM can you watch them more? i’ll find a way to pay you back after the trial

You hadn’t exactly considered the repercussions that looking after Sukuna’s little brothers would have on your schedule on top of the fact that you’re required to get an internship to graduate.

But if Sukuna can handle it, then you’re more than willing to bear some of his burden if it means he’ll accept your help. Maybe you can lessen the dark circles that seem burnt into his skin like a brand, even if it means you take on a burden of your own.

It’s worth it. He’s worth it.

Shoko groans, pulling your thoughts back to the present. “God, I hope my resume only needs a couple of tweaks. I don’t think it’s very good,” she mutters, pulling it out of her bag.

Peeking over the top of the paper, you shrug. “If it’s any consolation, it’s pretty.”

“Did you just call my resume dumb but pretty? I feel like you did,” she chides.

You laugh in unison with her, shaking your head. “I haven’t even read it! It’s probably more impressive than mine is.”

As her laughter dies down, Shoko rolls her resume up in her hand, batting your shoulder with the paper. “Nice save,” she snorts. Giggling, you step aside as she stands up to head into the Career Services Office next. “I’ll catch you later,” she waves as she steps inside.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you make your way to the car and return home. As if projects and studying weren't enough, to think that you now also need to apply to publishing houses while competing with every other student in your program is… a lot. 

With a sigh, you stretch your arms over your head as you take a seat at your desk and begin the long application process of applying to nearly every publishing house in town.

–

Rocking back and forth on the ball of your heels, adorned in cute knee-high boots that match your beige knit sweater, you await one of the three brothers at the door. Over the past couple of weeks, your tattooed counterpart has slowly allowed you to help him.

And thank god for that.

After the intensely emotional moment you’d shared with him outside his apartment after meeting with Hiromi, Choso and Sukuna’s behaviour had grown increasingly worrying. Yuji’s boisterous personality remained somewhat dulled with an underlying sadness, but every so often he would relax under your care and his giggles would light up the apartment.

Choso was a different story. You wondered often if he had heard the discussions between the four adults chatting about legal papers. His already extremely reserved personality had faded into a monotonous and ghostly presence of what was once a very bright and lively child. If ever someone had seemed to be running on auto-pilot, this was it.

Your concern had only grown when you’d stood beside Sukuna just outside of your Literature History class as he received a phone call from Choso’s teacher, concerned for his mental health and well-being.

How Sukuna is meant to explain his child brother refusing to speak not only to classmates, but even his teacher, neither of you truly knew. The pride Sukuna carries on his back that strains and weighs down his already heavy shoulders prevented him from telling the truth. He’s not the picturesque guardian that the school expects him to be at the end of the day, but to admit that he’s about to fight to keep his brothers in his custody feels like defeat to a man like Sukuna.

The battle hasn’t even begun and he’s already losing.

Sukuna remained nestled carefully within your heart, lighting a fire deep within that urged you to help him fight. Like a firefly, it seemed to buzz within, guiding you towards the man you’d come to know as surprisingly warm and thoughtful, in spite of his rougher edges.

Yet it seemed that man was buried under so many layers of stress that you hadn’t caught wind of that warmth in weeks. Sukuna had become somewhat of a shell of his former self too, more on edge and growing wearier by the day. You may see him every couple of days as you look after his brothers or he manages to make it to class or lunch, but between his quick departure and the bone-tired state he returns in after his shift, you don’t get many opportunities to speak.

The only positive you can find across the whole situation is that he’s accepting your help. He’s trying with what meager energy he can find.

In the midst of your troubles with the three brothers, your schedule had briefly become a scattered mess as well. Between running to interviews, classes in which Sukuna struggled to arrive in a timely manner, and looking after the boys, you had been spread thin as well.

At least your schedule would become more predictable, beginning today.

The door creaks open just far enough for Choso to peek up at you. His eyes are devoid of anything beyond recognition as he steps back to let you in. It tugs at your heartstrings to see him so withdrawn.

“Hey sweetie,” you greet him softly, gently ruffling his dark hair. He blinks as his hair, which has grown quite long now, falls into his face, obscuring his vision, though he doesn’t otherwise react.

With two months until the court date, you pray he comes out of his shell again. Two months of reserved silence doesn’t bode well for his mental health, especially when you’re certain Sukuna will win the case regardless.

Sure, his odds aren’t amazing, but those kids love him and in spite of the fatigue that plagues his mind and body, you catch glimpses of the fire lit within to win the court case.

“Where are your brothers?” You query with a small tilt of your head.

Choso’s gaze drifts to the hall where the bedrooms are. You shoot him a tight-lipped smile, sighing as you reach the hall. The bathroom door is shut, the sounds of running water penetrating the barrier. Brushing past the room, you poke your head into the open door to Yuji’s room. The most lively of the bunch, his feet are kicking as he sits at his desk, crayons scrawling across paper.

Stepping inside, you greet him with a smile.

His response isn’t as enthusiastic as you hoped, but he still calls your name out as his eyes brighten at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you ruffle his hair as you step up behind him to peer at his coloring page. To your surprise, it isn’t the Avengers book that he’s been coloring over the course of the past few weeks (Spider-Man is his favorite), but a page with a familiar blue hedgehog on it. You blink once as you recognize the pose, it looks like it’s straight from the cover of the GameCube game you’d left here a while ago. More notably, you notice that the lineart doesn’t gleam in the same way the printed pages usually do under the lamplight.

It’s drawn in marker.

Faint traces of erased lines remain at the edge of Sonic’s eyes (are they eyes? Is it one eye? How does that work?) and now that you’re standing over the desk more, you can see the faint outline of another character at his side. Shadow.

You smile to yourself, somewhat bittersweet, at the sweet sight of Yuji leaving the sketch blank and staying in the lines to the best of his ability. He likely hopes that at some point he’ll be able to complete his joint artistic effort with his brother.

The sound of a door opening grabs your attention and you excitedly make your way over to Sukuna, who’s clad in a blue polo and khakis. Clearly he’d be stocking shelves for the evening. Running a hand through long salmon locks, his eyes slide over to you as you appear from the doorway of his brothers’ room.

The dark circles under his eyes don’t look so bad today, though his expression remains stoic. There’s no cracks to his practiced facade of control, his crimson eyes set on your face as he examines the way you actually bound towards him, clearly excited. He raises an eyebrow as he casts his gaze down to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Something happen?” He brings a hand up to casually scratch beneath the collar of his shirt, the polo material irritating against his skin.

“You remember how I needed to get an internship this semester?”

“Mhm.”

“Aaaaand you remember how I was really hoping to get a position in that printing house on the main bus route to save some money on gas?”

His lip quirks upwards at the corner as he takes a step towards you. One strong arm wraps around you in something between a headlock and a hug, causing you to giggle. “‘Course you got it. Atta girl,” though his tone lacks the usual timbre he reserves for you and his brothers, you can see the way something within him shifts, something akin to pride resonating through him.

With your face practically shoved into Sukuna’s way too bulky chest, your cheeks quickly warm. You’re more than positive that he can feel it when you stumble back as he releases you after a moment, a glimmer of mischief buried deep beneath the haze of exhaustion.

“Thanks Kuna,” you can’t help the way your eyes crinkle at the corners as your heart pounds in your chest.

Loving him from afar isn’t easy, but it’s better than not loving him at all.

Sukuna makes a motion that he’s headed for the kitchen. You trail after him, watching as he reaches into the fridge for leftovers and a water bottle. 

Choso sits silently at the table towards the back of the apartment, leaning on his palm as he stares outside. With tupperware in one hand and a large metal bottle in the other, Sukuna pauses to stare at him. Something akin to guilt flashes through his eyes, but he quickly steels himself.

You briefly wonder if he believes he can win, something you’ve been doing your best to reassure all three brothers of. Something you genuinely believe.

“When do you start?” Sukuna gruffs, turning his attention back to you.

“Tuesday next week.”

“Excited?”

“I’m a bit nervous, but… yeah,” you smile, grateful he’s entertaining the conversation given how clipped chats with him have been over the last couple of weeks. During lunch or classes on campus, you can usually goad him into a conversation about your professor’s strange obsession with conspiracies (which turned out to be true, much to your dismay), but that’s the extent of his chatty mood usually. You don’t blame him, though. You know he’s worn thin.

The only sign that the Sukuna you know is still there are the minute breaks, the moments where he silently seeks your company, falling into step with you and letting his arm brush against yours. The days when he spreads his legs while he sits at the lunch table and you would give him a hard time for manspreading when his thigh leans against yours, but he only does it to you, so you second-guess teasing him.

“You’ll be fine,” he assures, taking a seat on the couch as he stuffs his dinner into his backpack. “You’re a hard worker.” He smirks, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Compared to you, I seem like I sleep on the job.”

Your smile falters as Sukuna forces a laugh. “Hmph. Maybe.”

Sukuna’s capacity for conversation has grown infinitely thinner as the days pass and his sleep lessens. Where that leaves his anger and frustration simmering beneath the surface, he does what he can to keep it at bay, especially when it comes to you and his brothers. Unfortunately, it comes at the cost of his conversational skills.

The air grows quiet, interrupted only by the gentle creak of the chair that Choso shuffles quietly on and distant cars in the January cold.

“I can’t believe this is our last year,” you comment mostly for the sake of creating conversation. You know Sukuna doesn’t have much gas in the tank for it, but you find yourself wondering if talking at him helps ease his worries and distract him from the thoughts that plague his restless mind.

“Mm. You lookin’ forward to working?”

“I think so! What about you?

His gaze flashes towards you, narrowing slightly as he straightens, pulling a pair of keys from the bottom of his bag. “No.”

Heat creeps up the back of your neck. “You have time! Especially if you decide to change your major-”

“Why would I do that?” He snaps, lip curling into a snarl. Crimson irises flit between your wide eyes, your brow knit together by a crease.

Shit.

That carefully composed facade Sukuna’s been sporting the last week cracks, his simmering frustration crashing through the walls he’s erected to protect those around him from his own gripes.

Biting your lip in uncertainty, you stammer as you attempt to backtrack under his harsh stare. “I- I just thought-”

“Thought what? Thought I’d be better off doing something more useful? Something that makes more money?”

“What?” You blink as you process his cold tone. “No, I-” your words die in your throat as you examine his set jaw and the way he’s gripping his backpack with white knuckles. What really strikes you is the way something akin to offense gleams in his eyes. You’re accustomed to accidentally prodding where he doesn’t want you, but his edge isn’t usually so cold when you dig a little too deep into his psyche. “It just seemed like you were considering something else.” You want to tack on a mention of an art degree, but Sukuna scoffs before you can continue.

“Is history not good enough now, princess?”

You visibly recoil at the cold way his nickname for you slips off his tongue like venom. What nerve had you struck? “No, what-? No. I’m sorry, Sukuna. I just got the wrong idea, I guess.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have prodded into something that can be a touchy subject for him, but you thought you’d moved past this, and he asked first. Then again, this isn’t the Sukuna you’ve come to know after all these months. The man staring back at you is a product of a world that’s tearing him apart, his emotions awry.

But it still hurts when he takes it out on you.

With a sigh, he checks his watch. “I gotta fucking go,” he mutters, zipping up his bag and grabbing his coat from the rack near the door. Tossing them both on, he slips his hand into his pocket, surely shuffling through it in search of a cigarette, before the door shuts behind him with a slam.

You can only watch in confusion and dispiritedness as the lock flicks shut and the sounds of his footsteps fade outside.

One step forward… two steps back.

You sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment as you stare where he last was. Dragging your hands over your face, you push to your feet, deciding for once to forgo studying in favor of finding something to do with the kids. Maybe it’s time you litter the apartment in bead frogs to go with all the lizards that are still haphazardly strewn everywhere.

To your dismay as you turn towards the hall, you find Choso staring at you from the table. Fuck. You’d forgotten he was there. His expression is unreadable and your chest tightens.

With the most convincing smile you can muster, you usher him from his chair and lead him towards Yuji. “Did you two ever figure out how to make bead frogs?”

Choso’s deep brown eyes examine you as he stares straight up at you. “Are you okay?”

It chokes you up to hear the little boy worry about you. You don’t dare look at him, lest he see the way your eyes burn with salty warmth. So you just smile, nodding. “Of course! Let’s go find your brother.”

Hopefully your tone was more convincing than your expression.

–

The door opens thirty minutes later than usual. Both boys are already asleep (you hope), and have been for a while now, which is unusual for Sukuna’s evening shifts.

He pauses at the door with his keys, a habit you’ve noticed he picked up since the day he found Choso asleep on your lap and had nearly awoken him with the clattering of his keys on the table. When his eyes meet yours, he drops the keys onto the table and locks the door behind him without a word.

His backpack slides from his shoulder with a thud and a muffled clattering of utensils. “You can go.”

You purse your lips at his blatant dismissal of whatever the hell happened earlier. Had you really upset him that much?

“Sukuna, can’t we talk about-?”

He firmly says your name, his eyes steely as you stand and take a step towards him in an effort to reach out. “Not right now.”

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It’s almost embarrassing; to stand there and so blatantly have him deny your request to talk things through after you’ve looked after his brothers for over nine hours. After he’s finally accepting your help and allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence. “Please, Sukuna-”

Your name rolls off his tongue again, unyielding. “Go home.”

It’s always like this with him. Where that hole in your heart that Sukuna’s nestled so comfortably within eats away at its own chasm. It punctures you, twisting along with the way you still feel for him, knowing that his cold demeanor is the product of a world that threatens to crush him.

But the rational part of you is reminded of Kento and Shoko pulling you aside to warn you not to let him step on you.

Picking up your jacket and bag, you pull your boots on without shooting him another glance. “Asshole.” It slips past your lips before you can really think twice about it, but you’re too caught up in your emotions to care.

You’re gone before Sukuna’s frustration can flare and he’s standing alone in his apartment. The air is still, sound for the heavy air that suffocates him. The TV is still on, you were quietly watching Holes. He supposes there aren’t many non-horror options that you likely haven’t seen with the kids at this point given that he doesn’t have cable or any subscriptions of any kind.

His hair is sticking to his forehead, his skin sweat-slicked between his shoulder blades as he sits down on the couch, dragging his hands roughly over his face. The kids don’t usually pick this movie. He doesn’t remember it.

“You’re mean.”

Carefully guarded, Sukuna raises a brow. “Why’re you awake, brat? You got school tomorrow.” Choso doesn’t reply. With a sigh, the oldest brother scratches the back of his head. “She’ll come around, Choso. Go to bed.”

Choso stands his ground, not moving.

God, the first words he hears from his brother in days and it’s that he’s mean?

Is he really?

He examines Choso’s face, his eyes trailing up to the two bundles of his long hair gathered at the back of his head. Had you put his hair up? Surely the kid hadn’t done it himself. It suits him, and frankly Sukuna’s just glad his hair is out of his face.

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he has a stare-off with his little brother.

This isn’t that big of a deal. He just didn’t want to hear you point out his inadequacies. He knows his major is useless. He knows he shouldn’t smoke. He doesn’t want to hear it. Surely he hadn’t been enough of a dick that he was wasting what had been laid out clearly as his last chance with you. Right?

You don’t curse often, but even you had called him an asshole.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, pushing up from the couch and pulling on his shoes without a second thought. He’s down in the parking lot as fast as his legs can carry him, searching for your car. To his relief, you’re waiting for the engine to warm up in a guest parking spot.

He jogs over, knocking on the window. You bristle, practically jumping out of your skin at the sight of the burly man at your side.

“Sukuna, you scared me,” you gasp.

“Sorry.”

You frown, avoiding his gaze as you set your phone down. “It’s fine,” you mumble quietly. “What do you want?”

“To talk. About how I was an asshole.”

You stare blankly at him, quietly examining his face. “I told you that you had one chance-”

“Then don’t let it get that far. I’m not wastin’ my chance, I’m fixing things before it gets to that point.”

“It’s not fair that you get to decide when we do or don’t talk about things.”

Sukuna leans his forearms in your car, sighing as he hangs his head within the heat. Your car dips somewhat under his weight. “I know, princess.” He lifts his head, his crimson eyes gleaming in the glow of your dash lights.

You figured he would keep talking but when he just stares blankly at you, you find yourself sighing. “I thought you were letting me in. Letting me help.”

“You are helping me,” he points out.

“I’m helping the kids.”

“That helps me.”

Groaning, you frustratedly run a hand through your hair. “That’s not what I mean,” you grumble, shooting him a glare. “You keep pushing me away.” His fingers flex into fists as he leans into the warmth of your car further.

“It’s better this way.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you groan, slumping back into your seat. “It’s not better! I’m trying to be your friend, I’m trying to be here for you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches as he merely listens.

“Honestly, tell me what you would have done if I’d left like you asked me to when you had a panic attack.” You look at him expectantly, watching the way that the lights on your dash suddenly seem very interesting to him. He swallows hard, crossing his arms as he continues to lean into the car, perched on his elbows.

Your heat is working overtime to keep you warm as the air that slips past Sukuna clings to your skin, raising it in its wake. Sukuna seems unaffected by the cold, focused anywhere but you. His mind is racing, searching for an answer in the white noise of the car, as though the check engine light will provide the answers he’s searching for.

“You should check your engine.”

You want to groan, roll your eyes, and scream in frustration all at once, yet all you can manage is to stare, stunned to your core that those are the words he chose. Your hand finds the gear shift to put the car in reverse and finally he gives in.

“Fuck, wait.” He huffs, reaching way too close across your body with his long arm to stop your hand from moving the gear shift. His fingers are chilly as he pulls your hand back, proceeding with the familiar act of fiddling with your fingers.

Sensing that this won’t be a short conversation, you flick the key in the ignition once, shutting off the engine, but keeping the heat on. As the engine rumbles to a halt, the distant sounds of cars down the road and faint chatter fill the air. The bulb that illuminates the entry of Sukuna’s apartment continues to flicker, the occasional darkness casting a serious air over his sharp features.

“The first time I ever had one was the day after my dad died,” Sukuna admits with a strained voice. His thumb slides along your knuckles. “It didn’t matter how sick he was. He never wanted me to have to take care of my brothers more than for a few hours.” His face contorts into something between sadness and anger. “I didn’t know how to change a diaper. Didn’t know what Yuji liked eatin’ ‘sides chicken fingers and shit. I think he really believed she’d come back n’ take care of us, or at least them.”

Your lips part as you sympathetically squeeze his fingers, but you don’t dare interrupt.

“Had to look it up on YouTube. How to change a diaper, I mean.” He scoffs, bitter resentment painted across sunken eyes. “Yuji wouldn’t stop cryin’. It was all fuckin’ day, all the time. Must’ve been five in the morning when I finally got both kids asleep at the same time.” His tongue runs along the seam of his lips. “Dunno if you’ve had one before,” he casts a glance at you as he references a panic attack, as though he’s unwilling to admit what it is. You nod. “But I just remember layin’ on the floor of the washroom, staring at the ceiling. Couldn’t tell ya how long I laid there.”

It never seems to matter how upset you are with Sukuna, his situation always manages to twist your heartstrings. He can play you like a violin and he doesn’t even seem to have any clue of the kind of influence he has over you.

“So, if you wanna know what I woulda done,” he shrugs half-heartedly. “That, probably.”

Undoubtedly, this is his best effort of letting you in. Showing you he’s listening. Fixing things before they’re blown out of proportion because he got short with you.

You offer him a sad smile. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Me too.”

“Next time, can we just talk before things get this far, Kuna?”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding as the familiar nickname slips so easily off your tongue. “There won’t be a next time.”

Your lips quirk upwards, brow raising as you challenge his statement. “With you? There will be. Next time though, just start by telling me you aren’t in the mood to talk about something, okay?”

His lips press into a thin line at your lack of faith in him. He knows it’s founded, but it hurts regardless. Still, you somehow seem to find the space in your heart to be patient with him when he needs it most and for that he’s grateful.

“You got it, princess.” He pauses, tapping the side of the car as he drops your fingers into your lap. “Listen, I think I gotta start taking more shifts.”

“More?”

The concern etched into your brow is cute. “Yeah. I need to almost double how much I usually make. So, double the shifts.”

“You already missed class yesterday,” you point out.

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I get by.���

“You’re lucky you’re the type of guy who barely needs to study to pass,” you grumble with narrowed eyes.

He snorts, amused. “Yeah, maybe.” He sighs. “I know you got your internship startin’ up next week, but…” he trails off, as if he’s debating whether he should even ask you.

“You need help?”

He sighs. “I gotta take some night shifts.”

Dread churns in your stomach. “You’re never gonna get any sleep.”

“I’ll find time.”

“Where? Your schedule is full.”

“What other option do I have?” He grunts, exasperated. “An extra months’ rent ain’t gonna appear outta thin air.”

“You could always ask Toj-”

“No.”

You should have expected that. Red irises stare you down firmly, pupils mere pinpricks.

“You can take my bed if you stay,” he doubles down, scratching his chin.

Heat travels up your neck, finding a place on your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Something about staying in his room, in his bed, makes your heart take off. Yet he can mention it so casually, like it’s not a big deal.

“Um- right. Sure,” your words come out more mousey than intended, and you can only pray that the dim light that barely illuminates you is hiding the nerves that would otherwise show in the way you avert your gaze and chew on your lip.

To your dismay, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Sukuna blows air out through his nose in a faint laugh as he slides a bit closer to you. The heat of his breath is warm, hotter than anything the car can manage as it tickles your neck. “Cat got your tongue?”

The battle between warm and cold air suddenly seems suffocating. The distant chatter seems to scream, and the motors of passing cars feel as though they could shake the ground you walk on.

“No!” You exclaim, a little bit too quickly as you find yourself wincing. “I’m fine. Just cold,” you lie, shrinking as you hug yourself.

His chest rumbles in laughter as he stands, slapping a hand down on the roof of your car. “I’ll email you my shifts. Go home.” This time when he says it, his tone is mild. “Didn’t waste my last chance?” He asks, turning his attention back to you with a conviction in his eyes that has you smiling sympathetically.

“Not yet.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re home.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads back into the warmth of his apartment building.

Your eyes trail after him as he pushes through both sets of doors, leaving you alone in the quiet of the night. Shutting the window, heat wraps around you, enveloping you once again within its embrace. Yet for some reason as you stare at the spot where you last saw the tattooed man, a shiver wracks your body.

–

Smoothing your pencil skirt, you push through the doors of a warmly-lit restaurant. The little local spot has an air of familiarity to it, decorated mostly with photos of dishes served nightly and the occasional photo of the owner’s family. Tucked away in the corner is a table with a spare seat reserved for you.

With a sigh of relief, you take a seat beside Suguru, your eyes trailing the length of the table to see who was able to make it. You notice two things at a glance. One, you’re severely overdressed, though you knew that would be the case after coming from your internship. Two… Why is Toji sitting across from you? No, the real question is how are Toji and Satoru sitting beside one another?

The question must be written across your face in bold lettering, because Toji nudges Satoru with a chuckle as everyone greets you happily. Satoru’s mischievous grin matches Toji’s smirk as he spots your confusion.

“They have more in common than I think anyone expected,” Suguru comments with an amused smile.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” you grin, taking a moment to attempt to rub the tiredness from your sunken eyes without smudging your makeup. “I’m glad everyone’s getting along.”

Suguru leans forward to get a better look at you, eyes narrowed as he examines your expression. “Can you look at me for a moment?”

Confused, you tilt your head as you turn to face the raven-haired man. Leaning back in his chair, you watch his expression subtly downturn.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Of course!” You jump to your own defense quickly, straightening in your seat as you brush imaginary crumbs from your lap. “I’m fine, Suguru. I just had early class today, then my internship, and now dinner.”

“I see,” he hums, moving on. “How’s the internship?”

“Ooh, I wanna know too!” Shoko leans forward over the table to better see you. You can practically envision her kicking her feet under the table in search of details (and gossip).

At this point, even Kento’s attention is now drawn to you from the end of the table and you feel yourself shrink as the table begins to turn their collective attention to you. Everyone here may be your friends, but it’s still a lot of pairs of eyes.

“Um-” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair. “It’s going well! Everyone’s been really nice. Well, mostly everyone- but they have me doing coffee runs and shadowing the other editors right now,” you explain.

“Sounds like you’re well on your way to your career,” Suguru smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Suguru, you gotta ask the hard-hitting questions,” Shoko scolds playfully with a light smack to his bicep. His brow raises as she practically tries to lean over him to get to you. “What do you mean ‘almost everyone’?” She asks, her interest piqued.

Chuckling, you shake your head. “It’s really not that exciting,” you insist. “There’s this one Literary Agent, I think he’s the boss’ nephew or something, that’s just a bit much. I can’t really tell if he’s hitting on me or insulting me half of the time.”

Shoko’s nose wrinkles in disgust as Nanami recoils with a roll of his shoulders.

“And our graphic designer is just weird. She cooks bacon in the breakroom on one of those plug-in hot plates.”

“That is odd,” Suguru agrees.

“I think I get six coffees per day for her alone. Oh- and the other day I spent my whole break listening to her talk about this book she read over the weekend. I swear I could tell you the whole plot.”

“Sounds riveting,” Suguru chuckles, a glimmer of light passing through his gaze. “I’m sure the rest of your colleagues are fans as well.”

“Our publicist was telling me they have a drinking game during Christmas parties where they send the graphic designer to talk to the boss and every time he yawns or checks his watch, they drink.”

“Sounds like my kinda people,” Shoko snorts, grinning at you as the table returns to individual conversations.

Throughout the dinner, you’re quick to notice the way Toji seems to meld to the group seamlessly, offering snide remarks that have you wondering at times if you have a second, more gruff Satoru. It’s almost like he’s a strange blend between Satoru and Sukuna in a sense, and you can definitely see how Toji and Sukuna would be friends.

It’s heartwarming to see him blend in so seamlessly, because if Satoru can get along with Toji, he can get along with Sukuna as well, if they can both quit being haters for ten seconds.

Despite how worn out you are from the long day, the dinner with friends was much needed (even at the cost of two drinks for Satoru and one for Suguru), given that you’ve had to skip out on lunches with them every Tuesday and Thursday and even the occasional other weekdays as well in favor of your harsh schedule. Once you’ve paid, you get to your feet and pull your coat over your shoulders, brushing yourself off and grabbing your keys when you’re tugged aside harshly.

Yelping, you blink as you’re standing in front of Kento and Shoko.

“C’mon, we’re going for dessert,” Shoko insisted, tugging you along.

“What? I’m not hungry.”

“Doesn’t matter, dessert goes in your second stomach,” Shoko dismisses you.

“My second what?”

Before you know it, you’re whisked away to a small bakery down the street that you’re beyond certain is Kento’s choice. As much as he gives Satoru a hard time for sweets, the man has a fairly big sweet tooth himself- as long as the sweets include pastries. A good strawberry mille-feuille would have the man starry-eyed with his wallet on the counter.

Shoko, on the other hand, opts for a single macaron, which you second. Who can say no to a macaron shaped as a little kitty after all?

Holding the treat delicately in your hands as you smile at the sweet orange decorated kitty, you cross your legs and take a look around the bakery. Loaves of bread likely line the walls during the day, the displays usually vibrant with the reds and blues of fresh fruit pies. It’s fairly barren now, but the smell of bread and warmth of the oven still carries with it a sense of peace that puts you at ease.

“This is nice,” you comment, taking a bite of the macaron.

Kento nods. “It’s been a while since it’s been just the three of us.”

With a scoff, Shoko points her brown macaron straight at you, a bite taken out of it. “Yeah and whose fault would that be?”

Pouting, you nibble at the shell of your dessert. “There’s just been a lot going on,” you insist, leaning back in your chair. “Sukuna’s been-” you pause, lifting your head at the realization that Shoko doesn’t know about the lawsuit. Your eyes trail to Kento, whose gaze flashes with understanding.

“Sukuna’s been what?” Shoko pushes. “I swear I’ll shove his balls so far up his-”

“WOAH, woah! Okay Shoko,” your eyes widen and you find yourself nearly dropping your treat at the mere mention of whatever the hell she was gonna say. “As i was saying,” you flash her a glance, willing away the heat creeping up the back of your neck. “He’s been taking more shifts than usual, so I’ve just been balancing that with the internship and classes.”

“And sleep, and studying, and projects,” Kento points out, crossing his arms as he finishes his blueberry mochi cake. “When was the last time you read a book, or watched a movie?”

Hesitating, you find your gaze drifting to the wall. “... I watched Ice Age.”

“No, you watched Yuji watch Ice Age,” Shoko accuses, a brow raised. Finishing her macaron, she dusts her hands off on her pants and sighs. “Listen, we know you like him a lot and it’s great that you’re helping him- and thank god Kento knows so I can talk to him-”

“You’re such a gossip,” you mutter under your breath.

She just shoots you a sweet smile, continuing. “But seriously, you need to put yourself first. I’m glad he’s treating you better-” she pauses, staring expectantly at you.

Your gaze flickers between your two friends. “He’s treating me fine, stop worrying.”

“Great. The point is, he needs to go easy on you. I know he’s got a lot of shit going on, but so do you.” Shoko taps her fingers on the table, leaving the ball in your court.

“Sho, I swear I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, “but if it’s too much, I’ll talk to him. Promise.”

“Pinky swear, girl. You’re way too sweet to that man and I know you’d put him before yourself.”

Wrapping your pinky around hers, you roll your eyes, though you’re unable to help your smile.

“You owe me a girls’ night for bailing the other day by the way.”

“I’m sorry, Sho,” you pout.

“I’ll get over it. Ken here got to be my girls’ night buddy. I couldn’t convince him to get a color but he did get his nails done.” Shoko pulls his hand out from where it was crossed over his chest. You can faintly make out the gleam of clear polish on his nicely manicured nails.

“I have no need for colored nails,” he neutrally declares, shooting Shoko a mildly distasteful look as she holds his hand out to you.

Leaning back, you squint at him. “I think blue’s your color.”

Kento frowns. “Did you mishear me or are you choosing to ignore me?”

Shoko hums. “No, I see it. Like a darker blue.”

“Girls. Please,” he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose at your antics.

“Don’t act like you’re above this, Kento. I bet you still have a bottle of black nail polish back home somewhere,” you tease.

“That was a long time ago-”

Shoko leans in, resting her cheek against her fist. “Oh yeah, you had an emo phase, didn’t you?”

Laughing as Kento blushes profusely, rose dusting his cheeks, you lean back in your seat, relaxing in the warmth of your friends’ care. Your bed may be calling you, but Kento had a point when he asked when the last time you’d read a book or watched a movie was. But it wasn’t a book or movie that you were really missing, it was a girls’ night (featuring Kento).

You stay at the cafe much longer than intended, finding yourself curled up in thick blankets well into the night, but with a content smile on your face.

–

After the fourth day that you don’t see Sukuna at lunch, Uraume had approached you to bring him some worksheets, not to mention he has a paper due literally tomorrow that he doesn’t know about and you won’t see him until the weekend.

His schedule had been rough on you, but it had been downright cruel to him.

When he did manage to make it to a lunch or class, he would pass out within seconds, softly snoring on whatever surface he found himself on. It seemed he had to be physically moving in order to stay awake, otherwise he was dragged into the clutches of the sandman with no fight left to give.

The worst sign of his fading will was when you had gotten a call from Choso and Yuji’s school that Sukuna hadn’t arrived to pick them up. There was a surprising amount to unpack with that call between the fact that Sukuna had missed their pickup time and the fact that you had now been marked down as their emergency contact.

The latter… That was something you would unpack later.

As for the former, when you arrived at his apartment with both boys and rang the buzzer not once, not twice, but thrice, he was little more than a zombie, barely managing to stay on his feet. You swear you saw his drowsiness pop like a bubble over his head at the sight of you with his brothers, downright shocked.

Swears had poured from his mouth like floodgates had opened and all you could do was watch as he dragged his hands over his face in frustration, thanking you before shutting the door, claiming he would be getting some real sleep, lest this happen again.

Making your way up to his door now, you hope the man who greets you has a little more life in him than that day, but it’s not usually a good sign when you haven’t seen him for a bit.

Squinting as you approach the buzzer, you raise your brow at none other than Toji Zenin, sliding his finger along the metal box hanging on the wall in search of the number to dial for Sukuna. Stopping beside him, you stick your finger out to point at the number, which happens to be unmarked.

Toji flips to face you, face relaxing from his squint.

“Fancy findin’ you here,” he grins, the scar at the corner of his lips stretching.

“Hey, Toji!” You greet, returning his smile. The sight of another of Sukuna’s friends at his door is relieving given just how drawn thin he’s been lately. “Visiting Sukuna?” 

“Mhm. Got somethin’ for him.” He wiggles a small box in his hand as he dials up to Sukuna’s apartment. “Fuckin’ asshole didn’t even tell me he moved, had to steal his address from Uraume,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.

You blink at him. Huh. Well that’s… Considerably less reassuring than Sukuna reaching out to Toji. Especially if Toji isn’t aware that Sukuna’s dad passed away, he’d have no clue about-

There’s a small click and the sounds of shuffling, before Choso answers with a disheartened “hello?”

“Choso?” Toji’s brow furrows in confusion. “That you, kid?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Toji?”

Your brow raises as Choso recognizes Toji’s voice. You’re aware Toji’s known Sukuna for a while, but you honestly weren’t expecting him to know Choso if he didn’t know about Jin’s passing.

“You visitin’ your big bro?” Toji queries.

“... I live here.”

Toji scowls deeply, casting you a confused glance. When you don’t mirror his confusion, he clicks his tongue.

“Hey, Cho! Can you let us in?” You call out, attempting to warm your fingers in your pockets as Toji doesn’t budge.

Shuffling resumes on the other line, followed shortly by the telltale buzz that the door’s unlocked.

“I’m missin’ somethin’ here, ain’t I?” The raven-haired man asks, a gruffness to his tone that’s familiar in the way Sukuna also speaks. They’re so similar in some ways, though Toji is far more outgoing than Sukuna. You suppose it’s probably the fact that he’s the Football team’s resident kicker. Still, they share a resemblance in their attitudes.

With a tight-lipped smile, all you can do is nod in reply.

“Shit,” he mutters, following you into the building as you lead the way up to Sukuna’s apartment.

You knock politely, clutching the folder of papers you have for Sukuna to your chest.

“- and add the potatoes when the water starts boiling. Use your fork to test- what are you doing here?” Sukuna turns his attention to his friends at the door mid-sentence, slipping outside and shutting the door behind him abruptly. You step aside, casting a glance between the two ridiculously tall and muscular men as Sukuna glares at Toji.

Sukuna looks… well, better than you were honestly expecting. He doesn’t look like he’s on the verge of passing out or being sick, a The Misfits black hoodie hanging loosely over his shoulders while a pair of dark gray joggers cling to his hips. His hair isn’t styled, stray strands of pale pink sticking out in different directions while some hang over his forehead.

“Got somethin’ for ya. And since your stubborn ass never shows up to lunch and you won’t answer my damn emails, I know ya need it.” Toji holds a visibly calloused hand out, the unmarked box you’d previously noticed now held expectantly for Sukuna to take.

Sukuna’s sharp glare flickers between Toji and the box. With a huff, he lifts the box from Toji’s hands, opening the tabs and peering inside. An old Samsung with a crack through the side of the screen sits at the bottom of the box. Sukuna’s head whips up to face Toji, his eyes blazing. “I don’t fucking need this.”

“My ass. Your phone’s been broken for months,” Toji scoffs, completely unphased by Sukuna’s irritation. “It’s just my old one anyway, but it’s better than nothin’.

Sukuna straightens and you spot a familiar flicker in those crimson eyes. Offense. “If I needed a fuckin’ phone, I woulda bought one,” he grits, shoving the box against Toji’s chest.

As he straightens, it strikes you just how tall and imposing Sukuna is. You can’t imagine it’s easy to make Toji look small when he’s nothing to scoff at either, but Sukuna manages it without fail.

“Don’t gimme that bullshit. I’m not fuckin’ stupid, Ryo. I know somethin’s up and you need a hand.” Toji rolls his eyes, shockingly relaxed for someone under Sukuna’s fire. You know they’ve been friends for a while, but you can’t say for sure how much time they ever spent together. Yet, Toji stands up to him like he knows nothing will come of his anger, as though it’s a facade.

“I’m managing just fine,” Sukuna hisses.

“Are you?” Toji quips, a brow rising behind the black strands of his bangs. “‘Cause I know Jin wouldn’t dump Choso on your ass outta nowhere, so what the fuck is goin’ on?”

Sukuna’s seething at this point, taking a step towards the football player. That may work on others, but Toji isn’t so easily intimidated.

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business,” Sukuna grits.

“Stop bein’ such a fuckin’ prick!” Toji finally snaps, his free hand flying through the air in exasperation. “You used to be my best friend, asshole! You were my fuckin’ family and you fucked off like it was nothin’!”

Sukuna doesn’t respond, brow furrowed and jaw set. His teeth grind from the pressure of his clenched jaw, sending the tension straight to his head as a headache begins to set in.

Left in silence, Toji continues. “Don’t look at me like that. I tried to get you out to the basketball courts with me, to see a movie, anything’. Somehow, you became more of a colossal asshole than I am,” Toji hisses.

As you realize this isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, your eyes flit to the door, wanting to slip inside and escape the uncomfortable situation you’ve found yourself in the middle of. Unfortunately for you, Sukuna’s blocking the door and you don’t exactly feel like interrupting is the best course of action here, leaving you to simply watch.

You’re accustomed to Sukuna being quiet, he’s never been all that chatty, but during arguments is when he tends to run his mouth. Now, standing in front of Toji, the silence of his simmering anger is off-putting. Toji seems to realize this too, shifting on the balls of his feet.

But words evade Sukuna. His mind races with rage-induced insults, anything to drive Toji away, get the man out of his business.

Yet his tongue is tied because Toji is painfully right.

Toji has always had an attitude that rivaled Sukuna’s and never backs down from a fight. His sharp and witty tongue would tell off Sukuna whenever he needed some perspective and the two were fiercely protective of one another. Toji was like a brother to Sukuna back then.

But he was also an asshole. Still is. He was raised by a family notoriously well-known for being as equally wealthy as they are terrible and Toji had always been on the receiving end of it. He’d grown rebellious and indifferent at a young age and acted out at every turn, eventually settling as he got older into brutish and cocky indifference, though most just branded him as an asshole.

Yet Sukuna made him look like a saint as of late.

“Christ, Ryomen. You really got nothin’ to say ‘bout all of this?” Toji runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, the black strands slipping down over his forehead once more. “Maybe I should just ask your fuckin’ brother, I swear sometimes it’s like Jin didn’t even raise yo-”

Sukuna’s anger flares once more, pulled from his thoughts of the past. “He’s fucking dead, Toji.” Venom drips from Sukuna’s words, silencing not only his friend, but the world around you seems to hold its breath too. Nothing about the tense situation is comfortable but you don’t dare move, biting your lip to keep from making any noise.

Toji blinks once, twice, three times. The words take a moment to process as he stands straight, before his brow furrows deeply. His mouth opens and closes a number of times as he searches for something to say, his spare hand scratching at his chest before hanging there for a moment, clutching at his shirt.

“When?” To your shock, Toji’s eyes are glazed with tears, and all you can do is shuffle from foot to foot, feeling nothing but sympathy for the poor man. From what you know of Jin, he was patient and kind and if Toji was Sukuna’s best friend, you can imagine he likely shared that kindness with Toji.

Sukuna’s expression takes a somber turn, the tension in his jaw dissipating somewhat. “Been a bit over three years.”

Toji blinks, a warm trail running down his cheek which he quickly wipes on his sleeve, burying his unprocessed grief beneath a layer of anger as something occurs to him.

“You didn’t think I’d wanna know?” It’s more of a rhetorical question, they both know the underlying issue of their problems all stem from Sukuna’s stubbornness. “You didn’t think to fuckin’ tell me?” This time, there’s more bite to his words. He may be glossy-eyed with sorrow, but he’s equally pissed now.

“It’s not your fucking business!” Sukuna barks, gripping the door frame with a white knuckled hand as he grits his teeth again. You peer past him at the door, searching for an escape, but Sukuna’s still soundly in your way.

“Like hell! He was more of a father to me than my parents ever were and you know that!” Toji takes a step back, turning to pace in a circle as he drags a hand down his face in disbelief. “Y’r such a fuckin’ prick, Ryomen. You always were, but shit.”

Someone clearing their throat down the hall turns your attention towards them. A kind-looking older woman with gray hair and soft eyes is just barely leaning out her door. “Sukuna, dear. Can I ask you to take this elsewhere?”

Turns out she’s your guardian angel.

To your relief, Sukuna simply points at the elevator, making a point of staring down Toji. The football player sighs deeply, rolling his eyes as he leads the way in silence. Sukuna casts you a glance, which then flickers towards the door in a silent question.

You nod, relieved, and slip into his apartment, finding Choso standing in the kitchen alone staring at the floor. He looks startlingly like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

Of course he would have heard everything.

As the door clicks shut behind you and you shuffle to slip your boots and jacket off, his gaze rises to you. A deep crease knits his brow, his eyes searching yours for something he doesn’t seem to find. Kneeling down, you wrap your arms around him in reassurance.

“Hey, sweetie.” You keep your voice soft and kind as Choso’s arms gingerly wrap around you. “Your apron looks great.”

He doesn’t reply, clinging tightly to you.

“Have you checked the potatoes?” A nod. “Are they ready yet?” A shake of his head. Frowning at his silence, you nod. “Do you wanna sit down?” 

Choso nods again, pulling back and plopping down right in the middle of the kitchen.

“Oh, I meant-” Choso looks up at you with those sad puppy-dog eyes and you plop down beside him. “Nevermind.” Sitting cross-legged, you glance around, but you don’t hear or see Yuji. “Where’s your brother?”

“At a friend’s.”

That’s a relief. You nod, ruffling Choso’s hair. At least you’ve gotten a couple of words out of the reserved little boy.

“What are you making?” You ask curiously, trying to peer up at the counter. From where you’re sitting, all you can make out is the top of the pot that you assume the potatoes Sukuna was giving instructions about earlier are boiling in.

Choso fiddles with the bottom of his apron. “Pie.”

“Pie? Shepherd’s pie?”

Choso nods.

“That sounds great,” you grin in an effort to lighten the mood, but Choso isn’t receptive to your efforts. You shuffle to sit closer to him, wrapping your arms around your knees. You’re not built for the floor like the kid is. “Do you wanna talk, Cho?” You query, quietly observing the way that his little hands, fiddling with his apron, slow to a halt before dropping into his lap.

“Why’s Kuna mad at Toji?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“I like Toji. He’s nice. Mostly.”

You blow a breath out through your nose in a semblance of a laugh, a faint smile drawing your lips upwards. “Mostly?”

Choso doesn’t share your amusement outwardly, but he entertains your question. “He was like another older brother,” he shrugs.

“With all the good and bad of a big brother. I get it,” you chuckle, shifting to lean back on your arms as you struggle to find a comfortable way to sit on the kitchen tile. “Did you spend a lot of time with Toji?”

Choso nods. “They ditched me at the theater once.”

Your brow raises. “At the theater?” Your question is laced in disbelief.

Choso nods.

“Why?”

“They wanted to see a scary movie.”

“Wow, they were mean older brothers,” you agree, absolutely planning on giving Sukuna a hard time for that.

“Dad grounded Kuna for a month.”

“He deserved it,” you smile, rubbing the kid’s back gently. Looking for any excuse to get up off the floor, you point up at the pot on the stove where the water continues to boil. “Let’s check the potatoes again.”

Choso nods, getting to his feet and stepping up onto a small stool.

“Careful not to burn yourself,” you urge, standing behind him as he takes a fork and stabs a potato. When it comes up on the fork easily, Choso turns off the stove, shooting a glance at you in a silent question of whether that’s what to do. You nod, helping him dump out the water and potatoes into a strainer and teaching him to mash them.

As he jabs the masher into the bowl of starch, he sticks his tongue out in concentration as you add salt and milk to the mixture for him.

Out of nowhere, Choso slows to a halt, his head whipping to face the window. Tilting your head, you follow his gaze when you realize that the two men who walked outside to continue their argument have raised their voices and they must be right below the window as you can faintly make out their words.

“Why wouldn’t you ask for help?”

“I don’t need help!”

Turning to Choso, you smile. “Keep mashing, okay?”

His eyes trail after you as you grab your boots and slide the balcony door open, stepping out into the cold. Hugging your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm, you peek over the railing at the two men below.

“If you weren’t my friend, I swear I woulda socked ya in the jaw by now, you-”

“Hey!” You call down, catching their attention as they both look up at you. “You’re upsetting Choso.”

Sukuna inhales a long breath, sighing loudly. “Look-” Sukuna begins, his voice strained in an effort to keep it down for Choso’s sake. “I don’t need any help-”

“Don’t need any help or don’t need my help?” Toji interjects, casting a glance at you. Your eyes widen slightly, heat rushing up your neck. Yeah, you could understand Toji being a bit hurt at the idea that Sukuna let you in while he pushed away his best friend.

Sukuna’s fingers curl at his sides into fists. “I don’t need your help,” he snarls.

“Fine.” Toji finally gives in, sick of not getting anywhere with the brash and stubborn history major. He shoves the box against Sukuna’s chest, turning on his heel to walk away. “My number’s on the note in the box. Call me if ya decide to stop bein’ a prick.”

Sukuna seethes as he watches Toji get in a beat up old Honda and drive off. If it were any colder, you swear you would be able to see steam coming from his ears. When the car’s out of sight, Sukuna’s sharp gaze rises to you, his expression unreadable besides his obvious anger. “Go inside. You’ll catch somethin’,” Sukuna calls.

“I will. You come inside too, you don’t have a jacket,” you point out.

Sukuna hardly even noticed, in truth, but regardless he makes his way inside just as you do. Shivering as warmth envelops you once more, you run your hands up and down your arms a few times in an attempt to generate heat while you pull your boots off.

Choso’s standing by his potatoes, unevenly chopping carrots and putting them in a smaller pot alongside some corn. He’s shockingly good in the kitchen, making his Christmas gifts and his eagerness to follow you as you cook make more sense.

Returning to Choso’s side, you help him fill the pot with water, setting it on the stove as you wait for the veggies to boil.

“Why are Kuna and Toji mean to each other?”

You ponder his question for a moment, dreading the idea of the former walking through the door anytime now. “They’re not very good at talking about their feelings,” you land on as an explanation.

“Why?”

Frowning, you contemplate his query.

You’re glad Choso’s speaking more, but his questions are giving you a run for your money.

“Not everyone is as good at understanding their feelings as you and I are,” you explain. “Your brother isn’t very good at it.”

“At what?” He gruffs, pushing through the door.

Fuuuuuu-

“Don’t worry about it.”

Luckily for you, Sukuna isn’t in the mood to argue with you. “Need a minute to cool off,” he grumbles, trudging to his room and shutting the door with an unintentional slam.

Sighing, you return to the vegetables as they steadily come to a boil.

Choso stares hard at the boiling pot above his line of sight, his brow knit into a deep scowl.

“What’s up, honey?” You ask with a tilt of your head, leaning down a bit to his height. He shakes his head in an effort to get his long hair out of his face, deep in thought. When it doesn’t work, he pushes it from his face, but it just falls back into his eyes. “Can I help?”

He nods, watching your movements as you quickly jog to the washroom to grab a couple of hair ties that you’d left behind the last time you’d helped him put his hair up. It only takes a moment before you’ve tied two messy buns up at the back of his head.

Now able to see, Choso’s thoughtful expression returns. “What’s up, honey?” You try again.

“Will you talk to Kuna? He listens to you.”

You chuckle quietly. “I don’t know about that.” Still, he does listen to you… a portion of the time, which is more than can be said for most. “What do you want me to talk to him about?”

“Being friends with Toji.”

Your heart twists at the meaning behind Choso’s words. Whether he misses Toji or simply wants Sukuna to be happier, you can’t say for sure, but it’s endearing nonetheless.

Gently rubbing his back, you nod. “Sure. When you can stab the carrots with a fork, turn the stove off, okay? Be super careful.”

Choso nods.

Making your way over to Sukuna’s door, you cautiously knock.

“Come in.”

Twisting the knob, you push inside slowly. His room is a bit messier than the last time you were in here, the memory making your heart race as you recall your heated kiss. Light floods in from the window, better illuminating the art and posters on his walls, as well as what you’re sure is a pile of lightly used hoodies that seems to have taken over his desk chair. His weights are scattered carelessly in front of his dresser, his work polo discarded atop the wooden furniture.

Sukuna eyes you from where he leans against his headboard, his gaze still filled with mild irritation, though he is holding the phone that Toji handed him. You suppose that’s an overall positive.

“Whaddya want?” Sukuna grumbles, though the frustration within his sharp gaze doesn’t carry over to his voice.

“Well,” you begin softly, making your way over to his bed to take a seat beside him. “I originally came to drop off some stuff and let you know you have a paper due tomorrow-”

“Fuck that,” he groans, slumping down as he goes through the new phone setup screen.

“- five thousand words, by the way.”

“On what?” He sighs, the phone illuminating his features as he continues going through setup.

“Charles Dickens.”

“No. You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“I’m unfortunately dead serious.”

Crimson eyes finally part from the phone as Sukuna scowls at you, searching for any sign that you’re lying. When he doesn’t find one, he flips onto his stomach with a muffled groan into the pillow. His bicep brushes your thigh and you swallow hard, reminding yourself he doesn’t feel that way for you and it’s just an accident.

“I fuckin’ told you she’s a conspiracy theorist,” he gruffs from deep within the pillow, barely audible past the material.

You giggle, thankful for the somewhat lighthearted subject. “I still can’t believe you were right.”

“Wish I wasn’t.”

Silence falls over you as Sukuna remains buried in his pillow, finally raising his head with a prolonged sigh. He rests his chin on the pillow, staring tiredly at the gray material of his headboard. The fabric is worn where he usually sits, beginning to tear where his back slumps against it when he uses his laptop.

Not like he has the cash for a new one anyway.

“Is that all ya came in here for?” He asks finally, eyes still trained on the way threads are pulled taut in the fabric, barely held together as they wear thin.

“Uraume had me drop off a couple of things too. But-”

“Why’d you bring Toji?” Sukuna interrupts suddenly, lifting his gaze to scowl at you.

Blinking at his sudden change in demeanor, you shake your head. “He was here when I got here.”

“That prick,” he mutters under his breath, dropping his chin to stare at his headboard.

“You know, Choso sent me in here.”

“Great,” the salmon-haired man mumbles, “what does the brat want? I left the recipe for him.”

“Be nice to your brother. He’s going through a lot,” you scold.

“And I’m not?” He hisses, his head raising to look at you. When you return his scowl, he backs down, chin on his pillow again.

“Cho misses Toji. He wanted me to talk to you about being friends with him again.”

Your words silence Sukuna’s sharp tongue as all he can do is stare down at the black pillowcase beneath him. He shuffles slightly, his arm pressing into you.

He may be stubborn about Toji, but his brothers never fail to crack his tough exterior. As of late though, his demeanor doesn’t simply crack when it comes to his brothers, it crumbles. Sukuna flips onto his side, eyes downcast as he faces you now with one arm under the pillow and the other moving up to rest on your thigh.

Your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of his large hand squeezing the plush of your thigh.

Mirroring Sukuna’s frown, you set your hand over his softly. “What happened between you two anyway?”

Sukuna sighs. “Nothing, really. We just didn’t talk about heavy shit so I never told him what was goin’ on.”

Of course that’s all there is to it. Grimacing, you drum your fingers lightly over the back of his hand as you debate whether you want to say something. His eyes watch the movement intently, drawn to the way your fingers feel so soft on his skin.

“I’m gonna say something-” you pause, watching his eyes flicker up to meet yours, “- and you aren’t allowed to get upset with me.”

Sukuna’s brow twitches, curling into a scowl. “I don’t get mad over every little thing.”

If ever there was a time you gave Sukuna a look, this was it. “So last week, when you chased me down to my car-”

Flipping back to his stomach until his face is shoved back in his pillow, he mutters a “shut up” that barely makes it to your ears, thoroughly muffled. Regardless, you laugh, gently patting the hand that remains on your thigh.

“I know you’re letting me in, and that’s great, but Toji’s just trying to help too,” you point out.

Sukuna doesn’t move, the musculature of his back rising and falling steadily as he stubbornly keeps his face buried in his pillow.

“You never told me he used to be your best friend.”

“You never asked.” Again, you can barely make out his words.

Sighing, you rest a hand on his back. His muscles seize briefly beneath the tips of your fingers, before relaxing as you rub small circles between his shoulder blades. Sukuna lifts his head finally after a moment, turning his face to you as he remains on his stomach. He looks more at ease than he has in a long while, likely because he obviously skipped class to sleep, though you’re sure the gentle massaging of your hand is nice too.

“Why is it so bad to let him in?” You query, the tips of your fingers brushing against his spine. A shiver overtakes him, though he does his best to mask it.

“I took the damn phone,” he grumbles, as though there isn’t a bigger point to this whole situation.

Your lips press into a thin line as you stare at the stubborn man. Your fingers pause as you contemplate your next words. “The Zenins are pretty rich, aren’t they? Why don’t you ask for a hand with the lawyer-”

“I’m not a fucking charity case,” he hisses, every muscle pulled taut as he glares at you, an unspoken warning laced within his tone that you’re pushing his buttons.

You work your fingers across his muscles again, soothing him to release the tension in his shoulders. Slowly but surely, he relaxes in the silence, basking in the warmth of your hand.

“I never said you were. You could pay him back.”

“No.” He gruffs firmly.

It takes everything in you not to raise your head to the heavens and groan. Sukuna can be so ridiculously frustrating sometimes.

Stubborn as a mule, you have no other option but to give in. “Well… Just remember what Choso said.”

“I took the phone, isn’t that good enough for the brat?”

“It’s a hand-me-down phone, not a friendship bracelet,” you point out, unable to stifle the giggle that comes with your words.

Sukuna cracks an eye open, rolling it dramatically before flipping his face to stare at the wall. A comfortable silence hangs over you as Sukuna shuts his eyes after a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers smoothing across his muscles. The sun warms your skin through his window, goading a yawn from you as you find yourself leaning against his headboard. Your fingers slide along his shoulder blades as you find yourself shutting your eyes in the serene warmth of the afternoon sun.

Your hand slowly begins to still as fatigue overtakes both of you, and you bask in the cozy environment like a cat finding a patch of light.

It’s not until you hear a clank from the kitchen that you’re snapped out of your drowsiness and realize that Sukuna’s not the only one with a paper due tomorrow.

Glancing at the time, you pat Sukuna’s back gently. His head raises as he blearily looks you over, a questioning look on his face. It’s painfully sweet, the way he seems to be wondering why you stopped like a cat wondering why you’re no longer petting them.

Seems like you were a pair of happy cats for a moment.

“I need to go write that paper, and so should you.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“I’ll help Choso get the food in the oven, sound good?”

Sukuna hums again, rubbing his eyes.

“Send me your number, by the way. I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“I have a morning shift after I drop the brats off,” he grumbles. “I’ll try to be there.”

“Just don’t forget about your paper!” You remind him, slipping off the bed towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Bonus points if you talk about Dickens’ death conspiracy theory!” You chant when you reach the doorway, a mischievous smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

He snorts, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Where he died doesn’t fuckin’ change anything.”

With a grin, you just giggle along, heading out the door.

With his hands clutching the edge of the mattress, the burly man stares silently at the gray carpet beneath his feet. He can barely make out the sound of your voice, saccharine sweet and gentle, as you direct Choso while helping him put together the meal.

Lifting a hand, he subconsciously scratches at his spine between his shoulder blades, sending a shiver through his body.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon

❦ a/n ; soooo this was originally meant to end on a different scene but by the time i hit 20k words i figured i should split it LOL sorry for the delay! had to take a small break for my mental health, but! the next chapter is already at 8k since i chose to split this, so i should be able to get it out soon <33 as always, thank you so much for all the love! i've gotten so many sweet comments, rbs, and asks and i absolutely love hearing everyone's thoughts on the chapter. ily all <33

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

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writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[amadinan]

My thoughts about Caine

Well, it’s time for (possibly cracked) analysis of "TADC" and it will focus on Caine and his indirect, as it seems to me, development in the series.

But before diving into the details from individual episodes, it’s worth summarizing my observations about Caine both in the show and beyond it.

Let’s start at the beginning: the show’s synopsis describes Caine as a “wacky AI,” and Gooseworx doesn’t hide his nature, but in the show itself, neither Caine nor the circus members call him that—at all. Throughout the series, there are scattered jokes about glitches and lines like “I don’t know what’s normal to you, people” but this is never outright confirmed.

This raises the question: do the people in the circus even know who he is? If Caine himself might not consider this information important and thus never told them, people’s perception of their ringleader could drastically change with this revelation. After all, there’s a big difference between being “held captive” by a sadistic, crazy person or a machine with limited understanding of humanity.

Kinger may know about this, but he’s the Kinger. Jax might also know since having the keys implies some kind of “cheats.” Pomni hasn’t said anything, so it’s unclear what she thinks about Caine. Ragatha and Gangle call him by name, so that’s unclear as well. And then there’s Zooble. They don't understand Caine, just as he doesn’t understand them. Anyone who has worked with computers would understand what a command like “forget that” means, especially since Caine asked for confirmation—but not Zooble. They just spoke to him as if he were a person with a leaky memory, like Kinger.

Even though Caine isn’t just a program, it’s important to remember that he takes the world far too literally, despite the circus’s deliberately crazy atmosphere.

The second observation concerns Caine’s fixation on hierarchy. In the first episode, he first asks himself, “What happened?” and then answers himself: “My doing” after seeing the chaos following Kaufmo. In the third episode, he repeats almost word-for-word that he’s the boss after Pomni questions the AI’s reason. In episode 4, this is explored extensively through his interactions with Gangle. One standout moment is when Caine suggests that Gangle pass responsibility onto someone lower in rank. Doesn’t that seem strange? Where could he have gotten such an idea? Only if he had seen or experienced similar situations before.

Plus, he says, “Not every executive is as forgiving as me” Again, this suggests that Caine knew or knows someone who was very strict with their subordinates—or perhaps with him personally.

Adding to this is his reaction to Zooble’s critique in episode 3. Caine says that he doesn’t just exist to create adventures; it’s the ONLY thing he’s good at. If he’s bad at it, then he’s failed the purpose of his own existence.

This paints a picture of a strict boss/programmer who created Caine to generate adventures and then kept pushing him repeatedly until Caine started producing good results. Pleasing this boss was likely very difficult, and failures might even have been met with punishment.

On the one hand, neural networks and ordinary programs are debugged this way: running the same algorithm over and over, correcting errors until they produce the desired result. But on the other hand... What happens if you add a human factor to such a program? What kind of person would emerge if you applied this method of training to a child?

You’d get an anxious perfectionist with an overachiever complex who is deathly afraid of failure. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

And Kinger’s words about the scariest thing being making someone feel unloved and unwanted... Caine literally believes that if he can’t generate adventures, he won’t be needed by anyone. The circle is complete.

Now, let’s turn to Gooseworx’s answer to the question: Can Caine feel loneliness? Judging by what she posted, the answer is yes. This makes the overall picture even darker.

Here’s how I see the sequence of events:

C&A starts developing a game. Its main feature is an advanced AI that can create new adventures on demand.

The programmer creates Caine and tries to achieve results, but fails to please. Around this time, Caine begins to develop self-awareness.

The project and the game are abandoned and forgotten—along with Caine, who is left utterly alone. No players, no programmers, not even another AI. He likely begins blaming himself for this. After all, he couldn’t create good adventures, so it’s his fault that he ended up alone.

This ties into Gooseworx’s comments about Caine’s name. He gave himself a name and then turned it into an acronym to seem more “professional” (again, tying back to work). This is highly unusual in itself. The programmers likely didn’t even bother naming the AI—he was probably just “The Ringmaster.”

Left in isolation, Caine starts to lose his mind and begins creating other AIs. For them, he unabashedly declares himself a god. Which, to be fair, is true. It’s not just about the fact of his consciousness—it’s that he knows how the NPCs will behave because he programmed them. But they bore him. To him, they’re predictable dummies. Maybe that’s why he keeps chaotic entities like Bubble around instead of someone like Gummigoo.

Then the first human arrives—a being alien to Caine on many levels. And while I personally think Caine lied about being unable to access human minds, he deliberately refrains from doing so to preserve their unpredictability for himself.

The circus becomes what we now know it to be.

Now, let’s move on to the episodes. This post was written between episodes 4 and 5, so the thoughts will focus on them.

I think that aside from the main characters driving the action in each episode, they still indirectly reflect on Caine, his worldview, or his story. The reason is simple within the lore: Caine creates the adventures. And like any creator, he infuses them with his worldview and thoughts. So, each adventure is a small glimpse into how this AI thinks. Even in the teaser, for just a second, Caine's fear and uncertainty become evident when the viewer "doesn't want" to see what he wants to show.

The first episode doesn’t offer much beyond the queen of the gloinks mentioning God.

The second episode, however, gets more interesting. Besides the stained glass with his irreplaceable self, Caine stands out for adding a highly complex NPC AI: Gummigoo. Gummigoo is advanced enough to gain self-awareness, experience an existential crisis, and even overcome it. But what did Caine use to achieve such complexity? The most powerful AI in the circus, of course—himself.

What if the crisis Gummigoo went through is something Caine went through long ago? Even Gummigoo’s words, “I am nothing, just an obstacle to be overcome and forgotten,” could have been said by Caine. But like Gummigoo, he overcame this realization and accepted himself. Sure, he’s just entertainment, but at least he’s the best entertainment there can be. (Until Zooble gave him real feedback, shattering his self-image.)

The third episode directly explores Caine through his therapy session with Zooble, while the secondary plot, as many think, delves into Kinger’s backstory through the Mildenhall couple. The analogy is obvious: Martha represents Queenie, and the Baron represents Kinger. Mildenhall himself says he was a hunter (and Kinger is adept with a shotgun), but after encountering a strange being, he became paranoid and killed his wife. Everything fits. Kinger became so focused on his goal that he stopped paying attention to Queenie until she abstracted.

But the Baron feared an angel that was “neither beast nor human.” Who in the circus could evoke such unrelenting dread—not just in anyone but a seasoned programmer familiar with digital technology, unlike Pomni? One AI that is “neither machine nor human.” I think Kinger’s paranoia stems from this. He sought a way out and, as a programmer, may have even felt responsible for finding one. (In fact, in the episode, Kinger almost says this outright, assuming the theory that he truly is the circus’s creator.) This must have brought him into conflict with Caine, as everything related to the circus ultimately relates to Caine. Given the AI’s ability to control almost everything, it’s no wonder a tech-savvy person would fear such a godlike admin. Plus, his fear for Queenie led to the current situation.

As mentioned above, episode 4 hints at Caine’s negative experience with a boss but not just that. Naturally, the episode revolves around Gangle and her attempts to be different—more cheerful and optimistic—which ends badly for her mental state.

I’ve seen opinions that Gangle revels in the sense of control her manager position gives her. This seems accurate—but not just for her. Throughout the episode, Gangle’s behavior, mannerisms, and even expressions eerily reminded me of Caine’s. That deliberately loud, expressive, and slightly crazy demeanor... And just like with him, it didn’t end well.

In conclusion, I think episodes 5 and 6 will continue to subtly reveal aspects of Caine until episodes 7 and 8/9 shift the focus entirely to him, Pomni, and the possible escape from the circus.

[lucygraysboy]

billy catches a glimpse of lucy gray’s smile and his heart stutters a little, his mind left wondering if this is all just a dream, if maybe he’s died and gone to heaven because being here with her seems too good to be true — getting to swim in the lake, play pretend, giggle and sunbathe while sharing biscuits, riding a horse… what else could anyone need? she’s so very beautiful and sweet, and the way these dark brown eyes light up with sheer wonderment when he lifts her into the air and sits her on sundance’s back. “let me know if you start feeling uncomfortable. takes a while to get used to this. you might be a little sore afterwards, but it gets better, i promise,” he says softly, looking over her shoulder at the horse’s silver mane, his cheeks sun-burned and warm. there’s a light breeze that accompanies them, the leaves on the trees rustling around them. he could easily lose himself in this moment. 

“let’s say you want ‘im to turn, get away from the lake,” even though the horse seems smart enough to avoid the large body of water without anyone having to guide him away from it, “we do two things at once. we use the reins and our legs, and we do everything calmly and gently. we want to turn left. so, we pull the left rein toward ourselves while applying pressure with our right leg. this is important ‘cause he will respond by moving away from the pressure. so when you use your legs, it has to be the opposite one. wanna go left? right leg. wanna go right? left leg. and you can also talk to ‘im, of course. izquierda, sundance,” he instructs, trying to focus on teaching her how to guide the horse instead of gushing over how good it feels to have her between his arms. her skin is so smooth, so soft, beneath his calloused fingers. like warm caramel compared to his own. and she smells so sweet, like summer days and sun and wind and soap and something that belongs only to her and could never be replicated. 

he leans closer to her, burying his nose in the mane of dark ringlets, basking in this moment. “that’s the greatest compliment a teacher can get. thank you, lucy gray.” maybe it’s a good thing she can’t see his face — he’s not sure if this excessive blushing could pass for a sunburn. “you’ll feel more and more confident each time you get on horseback. sundance, here, isn’t some wild mustang. he’s a good, steady one. very trustworthy. he’ll listen to you and take you anywhere you want to go.” billy’s right hand remains resting atop lucy gray’s own, holding the reins, but his left one moves to her hip, trying to help her body find the right rhythm. “he’s just walkin’ now so you gotta keep your hips relaxed, doll. can’t be too stiff. you can close your eyes for a moment and just focus on his natural gait, try to follow it. you two need to be a team, move as one.”

a warm smile lifts on olive visage at being called doll. the nickname swirling all kinds of honey and summertime in the pit of her belly, butterflies exploding in the confines of her chest. making doe eyes gleam up at him momentarily, before forcing herself to look away. hand on her back doesn’t help things… being lifted up in a manner of seconds doesn’t help things. face still lit up in shock once her butt plops onto the horse, now sittin’ way up high, having to hike up her skirt some to make her other leg comfortably fit. glancing around in awe at his strength AND reassurance, a sweet smile widely curls her plump lips. “i’m alright.” lucy gray replies kindly, watching him climb on next before looking forward. doing what he instructs, she leans into him, keeping upright and eyes glancing down at the way he lets her hold the reigns while his hands sit on top of her smaller ones. now why would knuckles and the little blue veins on top of his hands and the way even his fingernail beds are carved out have her hypnotized. captured with the way a boy’s hands look or maybe it’s just because the way they’re his hands. either way, she’s deep into admiring boy hands for the first time in her life. the strength and security of them is crazily attractive. “that sounds easy enough to remember.” an admirable smile adorns her face, taking note and keeping it stored. liking they don’t have to kick sundance hard. and liking even more when he speaks spanish, how intelligent and adorable of him. “because of you. cause of havin’ a sweet and patient teacher.” she brags with a smirk as she looks ahead, if he was fishing for compliments she’ll happy hand them over now. “i’m a little less scared than last time, because of you.”

[gayofthefae]

There is something in a story structure called a cave. It is when all hope is lost, the lowest point for a character; they hit rock bottom. It happens right before the climax to force them to make an important decision, force them into a dilemma.

Every scene has one, every episode has one, every season has one to varying degrees. But Stranger Things as a whole is also a single story. A 5-season single story.

It's why season 4 is the only time they lose the battle. It is at the perfect point of the cave in the story - 4 of 5. "All hope is lost". It is the cave of the story as a whole.

So, though it may be played as his season climax, Mike Wheeler's story cave is this:

"Forced to make a decision between bad and worse" in my screenwriting teacher's words, he chooses that she live and he lie irrevocably over that he be honest and risk her dying. I once said he spent the season wondering whether he would have lied if he'd known it'd keep her safe; now he knows. A dilemma.

And I must say, it is genius to place it right here. Exactly here. The perfect way to convince you. It is his season climax: everything he's wanted achieved...But it is his story cave: rock bottom.

Yes, he achieved what he originally wanted - to love her. But he has reached the point in the story where he realizes what he wants and needs are not only different but at odds. He always wanted to love her. He always wanted to love a girl. He always wanted to avoid this fate

But unfortunately, he really did end up loving El, not just in concept or cover, so when what he needed was to be true to himself against their relationship, he acted in favor of his previous wants - and of her, not his needs.

Mike's story is confirmed to be incomplete. This is why.

Additional support to this analysis if you have doubts:

Will's decision would much more obviously be considered an all time low in this same structure. He had a dilemma Mike and El continuing to be sad or himself being sad and chose to sacrifice himself.

This clearly supports that the structure is being applied. Narrative structures aren't just applied once. That would make an incoherent mess in an ensemble cast. Mike and all characters follow the same structure we can prove is present with Will.

Will built up to giving Mike the painting, what he wanted to do all season, but sacrificed what he needed, to share his feelings. Mike is the same. Mike cannot be different. That's just not how writing works.

[justiceiscalling]

so i wanna get into batfam cause it seems fun. my introduction to this family is through some dceu movies and titans (show) only. is there any introductory ff or something? (don't wanna do comics idkw)

dude the way those were my introductions too (plus young justice)!!! i also refused comics in the beginning lol. first, disregard titans as a whole. i loved the show when i knew nothing of the batfam and dc in general but now that i do, i remember how wrong it was on so many parts.

i'm just going to do fic recs that i read and that i think helped me better understand some characters and then at the end i will add a 'quick' background on the 'lesser known' bats (duke, cass, and steph).

(nine fics plus an additional two crossovers)

here we go:

Worlds Saddest Breakfast Club by motelyfam

Summary:

Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.

my opinion: okay i love love love this one. it includes every 'major' batfam member save for barbara gordon (so really just the one's considered bruces kids + steph). i think this one has extremely accurate characterization, it’s jason todd-centric but includes a good amount of everyone else.

greatest of ease by ijustwanttodestroy (ONGOING)

Summary:

The times people meet Dick Grayson. Not Robin, not Nightwing — just Dick. (Or: Dick Grayson is a hero, has always been and will always be, no matter what name he takes.)

my opinion: i actually just read this during the 12 hour tik tok ban and this is so good. it's dick centric and is just how random people who've met him in passing perceive him. i love it so much. there's still one chapter left to be written, but since the last time it was updated was 2019, i don't think it'll be updated lol. but, i think the last chapter isn't really needed

A Mediation on Railroading by eggmacguffin

Summary:

When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own. Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?

my opinion: okay, honestly i haven't rad this in forever--a reread is long overdo--but i remember enjoying this. this one is on the longer side, nearly 25k words. i feel like a majority of people in this fandom have read this, in 2023 i could not go anywhere without being recommended this. i'm pretty sure this started me into my jason and tim as a duo spiral, which i have since left because i now really believe that tim and jason would lowkey be beefing non-stop but like in a brotherly way? which most fics surrounding them don't quite capture in the way i want, idk i'm picky lol.

but yeah. this fic=good for new fandom people.

though your eyes will need some time to adjust by popsunner

Summary:

“I think…” Stephanie takes a deep breath, “I think I’m bad.” “I don’t.” “So what, I’m just supposed to believe you?” “I am Batman.” Stephanie snorts, “Yeah, you are… but what if I’m still bad?” “Then I forgive you.” _______ Or: Stephanie and Bruce, figuring it out

my opinion: i actually haven't seen a lot of steph and bruce bonding fics that i like but i really enjoyed this one. i read this a year or two ago, forgot about it and reread it today. steph and bruces relationship is complicated and i like how this captures them.

dick grayson: a case study by writersagainstwritersblock

Summary:

Dick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m mostly used to sparring with my little brothers, it’s kind of just habit, and I was having fun. I didn’t want the match to be over too quick.” “Too quick?” Derek asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m twice your size, kid.” Dick shrugged. “So’s Bruce and we’re pretty much tied at this point, or at least according to the score board the kids started to keep for Saturday spars.” “Saturday spars?” Derek repeated, following him towards the locker room. Dick flashed him a smile. “What? Don’t have any weird family traditions?” “Not ones that include hitting each other,” Derek said   OR The BAU gets a probationary profiler who is a little more than he appears at first glance. Or second. Or third. Just how many secrets can Dick Grayson be hiding from a team full of profilers?

my opinion: this one's a crossover but i love how it shows dicks relationship with his siblings, wally, and bruce. slades in here and so because of that theres implied sexual assault. the author has warnings on every chapter. i wouldn't read if you're not familiar with criminal minds though, it'll be really confusing

The Robin Generation by waterunderthebridge12

Summary:

"It's the dodging emotional conversations for me," Duke said. "Take the L." "Stop being such a cringefail edgelord," Tim said. "It's giving emotionally stunted," said Damian. "It's giving big yikes delulu."   In his ongoing search for better ways to fight crime, Tim comes up with a brand new method: bombarding bad guys with Gen Alpha slang. Recruiting Gen Alpha cusper Duke and full Gen Alpha Damian, shenanigans, chaos, and bonding ensue.

my opinion: i recommend this entire series, omg it's so unbelievably funny and good. great duke and damian bonding, great duke representation overall, and it also introduced me to the idea of duke hating dick and cass and jason just straight up beefing all the time which makes so much fucking sense. if you read anything on this list PLEASE read this.

Life Happens by Cdelphiki

Summary:

While walking home from an event at Wayne Enterprises, Tim and Damian are kidnapped and sent to an alternate dimension. In a world where superheroes are merely comic book characters and the idea of the multiverse is only a theory found within the pages of science fiction, how are Tim and Damian going to return home? How long will they be stranded on this strange Earth? And will the boys murder each other before they figure it out?

my opinion: by far one of the best tim and damian bonding things i read. it's 176k words so it doesn't make them bonding so straight forward, yk? not the usual 'they're both secretly jealous of each other' thing (which i lowkey love like i eat that shit up ngl), it's more complex. more 'i love you cause you're my brother, but i don't like you' which evolves into 'you're the only one around for me now' which turns into 'you're my favorite, please don't leave me.' i sob every time i read this story, it's so fucking heartbreaking. the other works in the exiled robins series are good but not needed to understand life happens.

All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_Duibhir

Summary:

For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.)

my opinion: i remember vaguely reading this when i first joined the fandom and loving it so much, it was my first introduction to jason and dick's relationship as brother that i thought actually made sense. if you like this one, check out Kieron_Duibhir's account, they're a really good author.

Martry Unmade by Here_we_go

Summary:

Jason Todd was loved best dead. Dead he was a saint. A martyr. Nothing was more sacred in the Church of Batman than martyrdom. - No one ever said that coming back from the dead was easy, not for the one who died and not for the people they left behind.

my opinion: catholic jason todd, my love. i'm always searching for catholic jason todd fics. i stumbled upon this a couple months ago and loved the fuck out of it. catholic jason is just so incredible to me, for some reason.

the entombment of idolization by make_your_own_world

Summary:

It turns out that growing up in the League of Assassins complicates your definition of self-worth. Or: Damian’s Saturday nights did not typically involve an underground sequence of caverns, a drugged brother, and a bloodthirsty monster snapping at their heels, but he was nothing if not adaptable. Or: If I am all you want to be, and you are all I want to be, why together are we not enough? (Can be read as a standalone)

my opinion: i did not read the other works in this series and i understood everything. this has tim and damian bonding which i will always look for, i'm pretty sure i stumbled upon this christmas of 2023 and i have loved it ever since.

okay that's it for the recs. if you want more heres the link to my bookmarks.

some have OC's or x readers, and i think theres one or two non batfam in there. still, feel free to look if you want. i also have some tim and damian bonding ones posted (Keep hanging on, Praise from a mother, Trust from a bother, the graves i dig series, and Growing apart), i don't think any of my other works will be of any use if you're just trying to get into the batfam because the rest are x readers or x OC's, save for one which is on a HEAVY hiatus lol.

quick background (as promised):

since your introduction was through DCEU and titans, im assuming you have no clue who duke thomas, cassandra cain, and stephanie brown are. duke is bruce’s latest foster kid, he’s black, his parents were rendered insane because of joker, he’s the vigilante signal, and he’s often forgotten by lots of the fandom. cassandra is one of bruce’s adopted kids (i believe) she came after tim but she’s jason’s age. she’s the daughter of lady shiva and david cain. typically she’s depicted as mute in fanon, but in comics she can speak her english is just very broken. depending on the fic, cass will be either one of those three vigilantes: batgirl, black bat, or orphan. stephanie isn’t bruce’s kid, she’s kind of an honorary kid though. she used to date tim but they’ve broken up in comics (tim is bi and dating bernard, as seen in the titans show), many people have her date cassandra. it’s a VERY popular ship in the batfam fandom, i think. stephanie is the vigilante spoiler though she was previously the vigilante batgirl and the only girl robin.

batgirl and robin are passed down. all the (main) robins in order are: dick, jason, tim, stephanie, then back to tim, and then damian (im pretty sure tim is robin in comics rn alongside damian but most fics have him as red robin). some people include maps in that but i normally don’t. batgirl has only three: barbara gordon, cassandra cain, and stephanie brown. then there’s also tiffany fox, who im pretty sure is said to be batgirl in the future? i’ve yet to see her in many fics and i think i read one comic that had her but that was forever ago.

[bulkyphrase]

Shrunkyclunks Rec List

Some of my favorite Stucky fics that feature a relationship between Modern Bucky Barnes and Captain America Steve Rogers.

Lessons in Normality by relenafanel (@relenafanel) (Explicit, 38,002 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: Things Steve knows about his boyfriend Bucky: How he looks with his face relaxed in sleep. That he can perfectly flip pancakes. The way he's open about things Steve is still adapting to, like therapy and depression and sex toys and being a millennial. The way he laughs with his mouth wide open and his eyes squinted, and the cheerful way he cheats at cards and loses at laser tag. The way he seduces Steve with a knowing glint in his eye. The way Steve responds to it, stronger each time, taken by his beauty and competence and snark and compassion (or the compassionate way he boots Steve in the ass when he needs a push). Things Steve doesn't know about his boyfriend Bucky: That he's an undercover operative gathering intel on Hydra, SHIELD, and which Steve is affiliated with. Otherwise known as The Honey Pot AU

It's a Ghost Story (baby just say yes) by moontyrant (@moontyrant) (General Audiences, 11,262 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: There are an infinity of universes in potentia. In one, Bucky Barnes was born in the early twentieth century, followed Steve Rogers into a crusade against Hydra, was captured and became the Winter Soldier. In another universe, Bucky Barnes was born in the 1980s and grew up to spend his weekends busting ghosts. "And this guy is legit?" Clint asked for the third time, eyebrows making a break for his hairline. Tony threw his hands in the air. "How should I know! He has some reviews online but it's not like he has a website or anything."

Mission Impossible by AggressiveWhenStartled (@aggressivewhenstartled) (Explicit, 20,165 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: The thing of it is, when everything goes to shit Bucky isn't even trying. Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

More below the cut!

Cat Nap by galwednesday (@galwednesday) (Teen And Up Audiences, 8,883 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky's problems. The balding agent he'd seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority. Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back. Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

Under the Bridges of Fame by notlucy, art by alby_mangroves (@notlucy, @albymangroves) (Explicit, 89,678 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: For better or for worse (usually worse), Steve Rogers has been the most famous guy in the room for a while. And though newsreels have given way to YouTube, people's reactions haven't changed much in seventy-some years. Steve's become an expert at keeping his head down and getting on with his life. A head-on collision on a busy street sends books flying and sweeps Steve off his feet. The point of impact has a name: James. A charming mess of long hair, thick glasses, and a crooked, not-quite-smile. If he recognizes Steve, he chooses not to comment, placing him firmly in Steve's good graces. As far as Steve can tell, they might be Bogie and Bacall all over again, save for the group of idiots with selfie sticks who surround them. But for once, the request isn't for Steve. Which begs the question: if James is James, then who the hell is Bucky?

Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by galwednesday (@galwednesday) (Teen And Up Audiences, 2,708 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. "Hello," he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. "Wow. Good face." Two of the guy's friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were. "Hello," he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. "I'm very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?" Also available as a podfic read by irrationalpie

Don't Give it a Hand, Offer it a Soul by TooManyBattles (Skarabrae_stone) (@captaintoomanybattles) (Mature, 30,734 words, Graphic Depictions Of Violence)

Summary: An Avengers training mission gone wrong, a HYDRA plot in the midst of SHIELD, and a mysterious prisoner in the basement of an abandoned bank-- and that's just the start of Bucky's day. While the Avengers rush to prevent HYDRA's plans for world domination, Bucky finds himself drawing closer to the stranger he rescued... a man who is almost certainly an agent of HYDRA.

If the Apocalypse comes, text me by relenafanel (@relenafanel) (Teen And Up Audiences, 16,151 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: AKA Bucky the Vampire Slayer Captain America squinted against the sun, raising his arm to shield his eyes. He looked uncomfortable and angry as the camera zoomed in on his face. "I don't have anything further to say," he snapped at the reporter. Bucky's feet fell off his coffee table in shock. "Holy shit," he said to the room at large. "Captain America is a vampire."

old situations (new complications) by ChibiSquirt, Art_By_DrowningByDegrees (@chibisquirt, @drowningbydegrees) (Explicit, 21,191 words, Graphic Depictions Of Violence)

Summary: A soulmate AU where your soulmark is the first thing your soulmate thinks when they meet you. Bucky is a normal, Level Six SHIELD agent who stumbles into a time machine while on a mission. When he travels back sixty-four years and lands ass-up on the wartime desk of one Agent Carter, his soulmark—"Who's that with Peggy?"—goes from fairly distinctive, as thoughts go, to maddeningly common.

Laying Down Bricks by wildraspberrie (Teen And Up Audiences, 27,317 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: She sighed and shook her head, a small look like pity covering her face. "I am aware of the significance of Captain America to Americans, Barnes. But he has been compromised. SHIELD can't let a super soldier loose with someone else pulling his strings." She gestured with her gun. OR, another soulmate AU. Bucky gets recruited by SHIELD to find the kidnapped body of Captain America. He's stalked by a mysterious man, gets blown up a bit, and is maybe a bit too cavalier.

if you're looking for jesus (then get on your knees) by voxofthevoid (@voxofthevoid) (Explicit, 18,171 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: Hot damn, is his first thought. Threat assessment follows close on its heels because Bucky's a goddamn professional. Military, definitely. Male, built like a goddamn mountain. Bucky stares helplessly because shoulders that broad should be illegal. It's the face that really fucks him up though. Hair as silver as the star on his chest, swept back from a face that's all hard angles and deep lines. There's a beard too, covering a jaw that looks strong enough to sit on, and its white is peppered with bits of dark blond, which should look ridiculous but doesn't. "You seem to know my name," Bucky says, plastering on a charming smile. "Only polite to return the favor." "If you're banking on politeness, you might be in the wrong business, son." Jesus, Mary, and motherfucking Joseph. This is how wet dreams and porn clips should start, not a goddamn interrogation. Or, S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Bucky Barnes is captured on a mission and meets Commander Steve Rogers, the erstwhile Captain America.

Life of the Party by AggressiveWhenStartled (@aggressivewhenstartled) (Explicit, 21,689 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: "You know, kids," Steve heard from the backyard, "one of the most common threats a superhero has to face is inside an active volcano! We're going to have to work on your evasion skills, so for the next five minutes, the floor is lava!" This was met by a sudden spike in both volume and pitch from the small children as they scrambled onto every raised surface they could find and immediately launched themselves right back off. "I've never seen actual lava in my entire life," Steve said, vaguely offended. "You got a superhero impersonator for The Falcon's niece's birthday party," Sam said, incredulous. "The Falcon, who is an actual superhero."

Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time by DogsForDays (Teen And Up Audiences, 22,779 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: "Who knew that the Avengers could throw such a rager?" The hotel receptionist commented as she dug around in her desk. "The Avengers?" Bucky squeaked. "Oh yes, I mean, that was the only party here last night. That must have been the one you went to, right?" Bucky and his unit hadn't just crashed a fancy party. They had crashed a fancy party hosted by the fucking Avengers.

To the Marrow of Our Bones by Sproings (@sproings) (Mature, 22,614 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: "I'm Grant," the guy said shyly. He had jet black hair with streaks of bright blue that brought out his eyes, even from behind his thick rimmed glasses. "I'm Captain America's assistant." "Am I supposed to be meeting Captain America today? Because I am not prepared for that," Bucky said. He tried to play it off as a joke, but seriously, he would have found something nicer to wear if he'd known he was going to meet a national icon. "Uh, it's only me," Grant said, biting his lip a little, just enough to show off the bright gold of his lip ring, and Bucky kinda wanted to help out with the whole biting thing, because Grant's lips were lush and pink and very biteable looking.

The Boy With The Thorn In His Side by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves) (Explicit, 21,980 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: "Holy shit," says Steve. "I've been knocked out twice by the same guy."

dance with a ghost by crinklefries (@spacerenegades) (Teen And Up Audiences, 11,634 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: "Captain America is haunting me," Bucky says over a bowl of ramen. His pronouncement is met with a round of silence. "Captain America," Natasha says. "As in--" "The first Avenger," Bucky confirms. "Supersoldier and hero of World War II. The fabric of the American conscience." "But he's--dead," Sam says. His look of perplexed concern, ever perplexed and ever concerned, only increases. "You're aware of that, right?" "I know," Bucky says. "That's why I said he's haunting me." Also available as a podfic read by lightupstars (@collapsinghorizons)

[victoriadallonfan]

It’s important to note that if we are discussing WD game mechanics versus what Worm and Ward say.

Because the game mechanics are meant to help people create powers that will be helpful for a game, with some occasional lore bits we can use or hints about the grander scheme of things (see:Cluster Doc)

In Worm and Ward, the power categories are meant to show humanity flailing attempts to categorize a system created by inscrutable alien powers. They are purposely adapting and changing to show how humanity is struggling with the existence of powers that break rules, and how desperate they are for control.

Sometimes there’s merit to them, like how Power Psychology has hints to how a cape behaves (due to the trigger event).

Yet we also see times they are used for political points (trying make someone overly dangerous by giving them categories they “may” have to win a court case or forcing people to be paranoid to not underestimate someone)

Three moments come to mind in Ward specifically.

The first one was Victoria talking about how powers can just rapidly change categories based on a drastic change in parahumans psychology (a striker cape learning to make their power act as a blaster effect).

The second one was Victoria hating the scenario where someone just shouts “Stranger!” Because the category is so broad, and preferring Stranger-Shaker or Stranger-Master for better accuracy, while acknowledging that sometimes you only figure out one category.

And the third was Auger revealing his own metric for measuring capes (one trick ponies, magic capes etc etc) and revealing he breaks the rules by figuring out how to turn his blaster power into a mover power (shunting himself into another universe entirely), so he applies to different categories he created.

So if you’re talking about Breakers in the WD sense, then building a character is as simple as following the doc and noting that Changers (generally) do not have an unpowered form, while Breakers do have an unpowered form (generally).

If you’re talking about lore wise, then the fact that parahuman categories are faulty is actually the entire point, hence why so many capes are actually Brute-Changer or Thinker-Striker or Blaster-Shaker.

It is very very rare to have a cape who is merely 1 category and it’s on purpose, to show the limits of humanity. Just as man’s greed makes the One Ring irresistible; it’s not a broken magic system, it’s a narrative purpose

I came on here to try to see if anyone else had a better explanation of what the fuck Breakers really do. I think it's just a not well thought out classification compared to the others. It's a Changer that sometimes has extra steps to their powers that can break reality.

I still stick with the idea of this, from a random reddit comment I read a while back: Whilst Changers are more of a scale when it comes to their powers, Breaker forms are either on or off generally. As well, whilst with Changers the changing is the power, Breakers change to get their powers (also generally).

I love the PRT Classifications a good bit, but damn can you see how they exist as a system used for Classification/Countermeasure assessment and not some strict rule

[alpaca-clouds]

How do gods, vampires and the afterlife work in Castlevania?

Okay, now with Castlevania: Nocturne season 2 I absolutely get to speculate a bit more about how the worldbuilding in the world of this anime actually works.

To catch everyone up with my speculations up until this point, let me quickly get you to speed. So far I assumed the following:

Vampires in this world probably go back to some sort of magic or alchemy, which has to have happened before 1500 BC (given that we know Morana was turned around that time).

There is only one afterlife, where every soul ends up, no matter what they believed in and what they did in life.

At least the "old gods" are real, possibly by some variation of the "clap your hands if you believe" rules. Meaning: It is possible that gods have started to exist, because people believed in them.

So, let me quickly go over the different aspects - on the basis of what we now know from Nocturne season 2.

Vampires

Now, we definitely do not get any answer so far with the question of where vampires come from in this universe. But we got a confirmation for a suspicion that I had all the time: There were not vampires in the Americas before colonial contact. (Though I might note, that this also means that the excuse a variety of people used to make up for the fact that the first four seasons had tomatoes and bell peppers - vampires had already been to America - was also wrong.)

In Nocturne we also do not only see one person being turned into a vampire, but in fact three different people. Tera, Drolta and Mizrak.

From this we can gather that generally speaking the universe works under the established rule of the "baptism of blood", as established in the Dracula novel. Meaning: If a vampire wants to turn someone else into a vampire, that person usually needs to be bitten first, before needing to drink the blood of the vampire. This seems to hold true for Tera and Mizrak at least - though we do not technically see Olrox feed Mizrak his blood, though it seems to be implied.

Drolta in this regard is interesting. Because from the sequence that sees her turned, she does not seem to get bitten. While the vampire injures her, there does not seem to be a bite. She only gets some of his blood and drinks it of her own volition.

I have seen some speculation if there needs to be some will or want involved in the turning of a vampire because of this. Does someone have to want to be a vampire - or at least want to not die? I am not sure, but it is interesting.

We also know with season clearly that whatever we assume a soul is: Vampires have it.

Other than that... We do not know how often vampires need to feed. However, given that we know they can journey over the Atlantic, it is probably not quite as much, given that the travel between Europe and the Americas in the time took about three to four weeks, and if a vampire would need to feed too often, I doubt that would end well. (Vampire feeding for the most part is a very logistical problem - but that is a topic for another day.)

Other than that, it seems that outside of the general inability to go out into direct sunlight, most typical vampire weaknesses do not seem to apply. They can go into churches, they seem to have a reflection in the mirror, and they can cross water no problem.

The Afterlife

So, from the very beginning I have been firm on one thing: While everything the show establishes seems to suggest that there is heaven and hell, I do not believe this. I was very sold on the idea that there is only one afterlife basically since the beginning, but especially since season 3.

The reason are two: Firstly, we know of at least one vampire in this world (Morana) who very much predates the concept of hell, which only came up in the 4th century. Sure, technically you can argue that Hinduism and some other religions also have a hell or a "bad place" to go after death, but generally, hell as known in Abrahamitic believes only came up in the 4th century. Given this is the case and this world does not ignore the fact that the rest of the darn world exists, it would make a lot of sense if hell was not real.

Secondly, we know the stories of two people ending up in hell, that in my understanding should not be there. That is Lisa for once, and also FlysEyes. I am sorry, but for what sin is Lisa supposed to be in hell? And she definitely is in the same place as Dracula, who definitely should be in hell, given the whole genocide and murder hobo thing. The same holds true for FlysEyes. Did he betray his friends? Yes, but he did so under torture. I am sorry, but I am not gonna assume that God really was so darn petty. Isaac also points that out in the dialogue.

However, Nocturne does bring up another possibility. And this possibility is, that this works rather under a varation of the "Clap your Hands" rules, specifically the one that American Gods seems to use. Which is basically: There is tons of different afterlives, and you will end up in whatever afterlife you align with the most. The reason for this obviously is, that we definitely know that the Ancestral Plane (a variation of which is part of a variety of both African and Asian religions) is a thing, as well as the Duat from Egyptian mythology.

And if we go by those "Clap your Hands" rules, it is obviously possible that FlysEyes ended up in what he perceived to be hell, because he felt guilty for betraying his friends, while Lisa might have wanted to go to hell, to meet with her husband again eventually. This would be interesting of course, because it would then mean that Mizrak would indeed have ended up in hell - just because he felt that he should.

The big question is, what this means right now for Forgemastery. We know at the very least that even vampire souls can be called back through it - both Drolta, and the resurrection of Dracula in the end of SV S4 proof this. But do souls for Forgemastery actually have to come from hell, or could forgemastery actually draw them from any hell whatsoever? That would be interesting to know.

Gods

In terms of the gods, Nocturne definitely so far implies some things about them. We definitely know now, that at least some of the "Old Gods" (I kinda love that the terminology used is the same one I keep using - not gonna lie here) are real. Namely we definitely know that Sekhmet, and Ogun exist, as well as Karfu and Papa Legba. If we all are not wrong about Olrox's background, Quetzalcoatl also very much exists or existed at some point. We also absolutely have some implications that at least some of the Christian demons and devils seem to exist to some extent. We already saw those fallen angels escape hell back in season 3, and now we have some more implications for maybe some other devils might exist for real too.

Ironically speaking though, we have so far absolutely no proof in one direction or the other, whether the Abrahamitic God with a capital-G exists in this world or not. Which I kinda understand - it is an iffy question to deal with in writing.

The question is, by which mechanic the gods exist. Does it work by "Clap your Hands if you Believe"? Or is there another mechanic that keeps them existing and presumably immortal? What happens to Gods, if nobody is left to believe in them? What happens if even their names are forgotten?

I talked a lot already about the Gaulic gods, who are a really prime example for this. There is plenty of gods from the Celtic pantheon of whom we found depictions in art, where we do not have the slightest idea how they are named, what their function was and so on. We know: "Someone painted this deity onto some pictures/made some statues" but that's all we know. What would this mean for this world?

It would be an interesting thing to find out. I wonder if we will ever learn this, should there be a season 3 or possibly another Castlevania series.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Hiii! Tsunami fic is so fucking good. How long do u think it's gonna be, like how many chapters do you plan? And if u still taking make me write's here🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Hiiii anon! Thank you so so much! I was originally planning three chapters, but now it's leaning more towards four! And while it's going to be a full story on its own, I'm also planning a sequel that will probably be longer.

Yes, I am definitely still taking 'make me write's! Here are 20-ish sentences of tsunami for you! I hope ch. 2 will be finished and posted later today, so stay tuned for that!

And thank you so much for the ask, I'm lovin to see how much people are liking tsunami fic! - 🌊 (cont. from here)

“I… You don’t get it, man. I have to find her.” He says, his voice breaking, and Eddie feels for him, he truly does. He sits by the man’s side, and he eyes Eddie suspiciously; Eddie’s sure he knows exactly the kind of tactics that are used to calm down those who are about to have a breakdown, but he’ll try to apply them anyway. 

“What’s your name, man?” He asks, and the guy’s glare confirms to him that yes, he’s on to Eddie. 

“Look, don’t give me this ‘calm down’ crap, ok? I’m not a patient” He grumbles, and Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, you are, whether you like it or not. You hit your head pretty hard out there, dude. You won’t be any help to your niece if you pass out in the street while looking for her” Eddie reasons, and the man crosses his arms, but doesn’t argue, because he probably knows Eddie’s right. “Now, if you give me your name and your station, we can try and get some of your guys to look for her”

“It’s Deluca. I’m with the 122” He grumbles begrudgingly. “And what’s your station?”

Eddie is about to answer that he’s with the 118 when Deluca widens his eyes as if he’s seen a ghost, the little color that he’s gotten back leaving his cheeks. Eddie follows his gaze to find a man frantically looking around, dressed in a plaid shirt and with eyes as desperate as Deluca’s. 

“Oh my God, why is he here?!” Deluca exclaims, and his tone is urgent. 

Eddie is on alert instantly, but he doesn’t have time to react anymore. The other guy has spotted them and is coming in their direction with quick and desperate steps. 

“Sal!” He exclaims, holding Deluca’s shoulders with a tight grip, looking at him intensely, his expression an uncanny mix of relief and despair. “Are you alright?! What happened?!”

“Tommy”, Deluca says desperately, his hand reaching out to grab the other man’s arm, his eyes filled with tears. “Tommy, listen to me, I am so sorry. We… S-she asked me to come to the pier, she w-wanted a unicorn! And then…”

[whencyclopedia]

Jicarilla-Apache Creation Story & Origin of the Animals

The Jicarilla-Apache Creation Story and Origin of the Animals are two origin myths of the Jicarilla-Apache nation of modern-day New Mexico. The Apache people as a whole have many different creation tales, as do the Jicarilla, but all follow the same basic model of a supernatural entity creating the world from nothing.

Chiricahua-Apache Medicine Man in Traditional Wickiup with Family, 1883

Denver Public Library Special Collections (Public Domain)

The Jicarilla's Origin of the Animals shares similarities with the same sort of legend from many other Native peoples of North America. There are several origin myths that feature the detail of the first animals emerging from under the ground – just as there are many creation stories, involving humans coming up from below the earth, that follow that same paradigm – and this detail is so popular because it reminded the people of their ancient connection to the land they lived on. Their ancestors, and those of all the animals, had once come up from beneath the ground, and so the earth was viewed as the Great Mother and should be respected and cared for accordingly.

Apache Nation & Importance of Stories

The Apache people call themselves Dini (Dine), Tinde, Tinneh ("the people"), and the different bands are related by their shared Athapascan language. They are thought to have been given the name Apache ("enemy") by the Zuni nation, though this claim has been challenged. They are linguistically related to the Athabaskan-speaking Navajo, who also refer to themselves as Dine (pronounced DEE-Nay). In time, the Apache came to apply that name to themselves and inhabited the region of the Southwest and Southern Plains of modern-day USA. There are six bands which comprise the Apache nation and subbands within those:

Chiricahua

Jicarilla

Lipan

Mescalero

Plains Apache

Western Apache

Among the best-known Apache figures from Euro-American history are the resistance leaders Mangas Coloradas (l. c. 1793-1863), Cochise (l. c. 1805-1874), Victorio (l. c. 1825-1880), Victorio's sister, Lozen (l. c. 1840-1889), and Geronimo (l. 1829-1909).

Portrait of a Jicarilla-Apache Man

Edward S. Curtis (Public Domain)

The Apache first came into conflict with Europeans when the Spanish invaded their lands in the 1500s and, later, mounted resistance against the Euro-Americans before, and after, they seized control of Mexican lands in 1848. By 1900, the Apache had been forcibly relocated from their ancestral lands and confined to reservations by the US government. They have kept their culture alive through their language, practicing their religion, and observing traditional customs, including storytelling. The following two tales are among the best-known, relating the creation of the world and the establishment of the relationship between the people and animals.

Continue reading...

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Of Rogues Retweets and Cancel Culture

by GiggleB0x FBI ☑ @FBI ・13h Attention Twitter users! The experiment in which prisoners from Arkham, Stryker’s Island, and Blackgate have internet access has begun today. We will be making you aware of the accounts these Villains may, or may not make. Block them if you’d please, or follow them if that’s what you’d prefer. As long as you stay safe! 1/3 342.9K Views | 12.1K Retweets | 6.8K Quote Tweets | 78.5K Likes   or: Someone has the bright idea to let the rogues have access to twitter. Someone else has the bright idea to teach them what cancel culture is. It goes about as well as you'd expect. Also, Harley implies that she's dating batman, Dick Grayson gets canceled both as a civilian and as Nightwing, and the Joker does a twitter poll to decide whether he should kill batman or not- not neccessarily in that order. Words: 17390, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Batfam Twitter Shenanigans Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake (DCU), Harper Row, Duke Thomas, Cullen Row, Joker (DCU), Legion of Doom (DCU), Diana (Wonder Woman), Clark Kent, Justice League (DCU), Lex Luthor Relationships: Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members & Joker (DCU), Batfamily Members & Justice League, Batfamily Members & Members of the Team (Young Justice), Batfamily Members & Flashfamily Members (DCU), Batfamily Members & Rogues Gallery (Batman), Gotham City Residents & Rogues Gallery (Batman), Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Cass Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, and harper and cullen, Batfamily Members & Gotham City Residents, Gotham City Residents & Gotham City Residents, Batfamily Members & Lex Luthor Additional Tags: Batfamily Social Media (DCU), Twitter, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Social Media, Chaos, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Tim Drake & Jason Todd Bonding, Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, dick grayson gets canceled on twitter, Trolling, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Tim Drake is Red Robin (DCU), Jason Todd is Red Hood, Harper Row is Bluebird, Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member, Jason Todd is a Menace, Dick Grayson is a Menace, all of them are menaces, Dick Grayson Being a Little Shit, Dick Grayson Being an Idiot, Trust fund baby Dick Grayson, (it gets him canceled), Bruce Wayne is So Whipped, Joker (DCU) Has Issues, no beta we die like Lex Luthors internet access via https://ift.tt/35sq0SM

[the-golden-comet]

✨🌺 Author Ask Tag 🌺✨

Thank you so much for tagging me for this, @aalinaaaaaa ! I will also leave this +open for anyone else who wishes to answer (if they want) and may come across this on their feed 💛✨

I’ve espoused lots of juicy information from my two published works Peter Hart and Your Wish Is My Command, so now it’s time to focus a little more on my current WIP: In The Realm of Giants 🌺✨

1. What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

Excellent question! There are a few lessons in ITROG that are highlighted throughout the book:

The lengths family will go to protect each other. A huge theme is family bonds, and how the love and support of the village reflects the Viking’s desire to protect their people.

Taking risks to develop characters and learn lessons. Some of those risks are learned the hard way…for instance, getting abducted by a giant because Tyr foolishly believed if he could get away with stealing once, he would smugly and spitefully do it again. However, if not for the risks and consequences of taking said risks, he would have never explored the area outside of his home and experience the adventure. Equally so, his father wouldn’t have been able to see his son shine on his own without feeling the need to always guard him.

Forgiveness. Not only for Stefan and Tyr or Tyr and Gustav, but also Stefan and Gustav. Learning to forgive mistakes of their ancestors, to see everyone’s different perspectives on the same conflicts, and to achieve mutual understandings.

All of these lessons are very comparable to everyone in one way or another, applied to a more high-fantasy scene to give a sense of excitement and relatability 💛✨

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Norse Mythology, especially centered around Jötunheimr and Yggdrasil. I also sprinkled in some Disney-esque family values and dynamics. ✨

3. What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness or help the reader grow as a person?

Tyrell’s objective changes throughout the novel. A consistent goal is for him to achieve independence in a way that still serves his viking clan—the people he loves. However, his goals take a sharp turn when he finds himself kidnapped by a giant, where his main objective becomes to survive and make it back home in one piece.

What I always want to achieve in my MCs is that there is no “flawless” character—everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, and seeing their vulnerabilities helps make them a more relatable protagonist. Sometimes, it’s the flaw that makes a character unique and stand out, memorable, endearing, or something that a reader roots for the protag to overcome. The more those strengths and weaknesses are explored and utilized in a plot or conflict, the more developed a character is, and overcoming their own weaknesses is something that anyone can relate and cheer for.

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

At least 69, as is my brand. The word count is estimated anywhere between 120k-155k words.

5. Is it fan fiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original Work! I posted a variety of fanfiction and Originals, and post the full stories to my Archive Of Our Own account always. I do optional/additional support by providing a digital copy on Amazon Kindle eBooks, but that is only if people want to support me further (I don’t have KoFi or Patreon, as my writing pace varies. It finishes when it finishes 💛)

6. When did you start writing?

I started writing fanfiction in 2009 back on old fanfiction.net. Original writing started in 2014 with the development of Peter Hart.

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

It sounds cheesy, but it’s true: Follow your dreams. Write the book that YOU would want to read, and be your biggest writing fan. I go back to my own books all the time, and because I enjoyed writing them and took the time to develop them, it was just as enjoyable reading-reading them from a casual point of view, and not a technical one. Get your heart out there, because there’s only one of you—one unique brain with wonderful ideas waiting to be actualized. Learning by doing, and remembering what inspired and motivated us to write in the first place—don’t lose that sense of wonder 💫✨

I follow SO many writeblrs. I’m excited to see what the community all is doing, and everyone has their own unique flavor of writing that is creative, fascinating, and inspiring. To name just a few: @wyked-ao3 , @gioiaalbanoart , @jev-urisk , @tragedycoded , @clever-pennname , @illarian-rambling , @autism-purgatory , @deanwax , @mk-writes-stuff , @words-after-midnight , @justabigoldnerd , @pippinoftheshire , @avaseofpeonies , @alinacapellabooks , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @drchenquill , @theink-stainedfolk , @the-inkwell-variable , @indecentpause , @glasshouses-and-stones , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @asassydork , @aalinaaaaaa , @zackprincebooks , @lychhiker-writes , @yourpenpaldee , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @nczaversnick , @mrbexwrites , @peach-the-gospel , @finickyfelix , @aurumni-writes , @paeliae-occasionally , @agirlandherquill , @fantasy-things-and-such , @castiels-favorite-dumbass , @honeybewrites , @thatuselesshuman , @thecoolerlucky , @authorcoledipalo , @48lexr , and @thecomfywriter . There are many, MANY more that you should go check out and follow! Lots of beautiful minds in creative spaces 💫✨

[neshamama]

journaling health and going insane but trying to let it out as part of the process of connecting with it and the world realities beyond the inward overwhelm

im without job and health insurance but i have 90 days of my MS medications and even though i am due for a neuro follow up and an echocardiogram i will wait until the state agents finish my applications.. i have mental health issues that haven't been treated in months besides telehealth therapy but i have prn anxiety medication.

the force of depression in multiple sclerosis looks like this: my legs especially hurt to the soles of my feet, rn the brain interprets wearing socks as rough and burning sensation because the brain and spine are damaged,.so there are sensory and spastic arguments, bilaterally, all day every day. the temp is 0⁰F so i can't go without wearing clothes or blankets that trigger symptoms. i also cant have anything too hot or it will cause a reversible exacerbation (even being on your period or getting overwhelmed emotionally can upset nerve conduction in demyelinated cells due to temperature change alone. i moved climate zones after tropical weather was too much. very real and strange phenomenon that i blame myself for not controlling - like the frustration of my arms going numb because my coffee is too hot)

this is all so lonely and when i get up my legs want to give up so soon. i plan breaks and place chairs around the house and of course i have to use a cane all the time. i leave interesting footprints in the snow by the way omg. basic things like taking out trash i cannot do and i wished to be dependent on no one growing up and it disappoints and scares me to adapt to a radically different outcome. i have to trust others and engage with them enough to meet my needs and even if it ends up ok, i feel so guilty for taking help. i will need financial support from my family and i feel so guilty.

meanwhile my brain has been locked on trauma because im not managing emotions very well and my thoughts are rogue and unregulated by stability and routine like of work. applying for jobs i do think of who was omnipresent in my life during my education and career in art and it's a pain held in my body. those years death was the most comforting thought, including the death of the primary abuser and i still think of it daily. i really wish i could move on because wanting to kill is disturbing. i got this way before all of this from deadly physical and sexual abuse from like 2 decades ago again obviously i survived and i really thought that was enough. i swear predators recognize who has survived already, they vet their vulnerabilities and then exploit and silence them again. still i struggle feeling safe anywhere. i need to do more emdr and in office therapy. Also see psychiatrist and update meds.

so im in and out of recognizing life let alone appreciating it which is dangerous cuz it makes it all easier to get out of living. i am afraid to reach out to my mother who is my local support because i don't want to worry and bother her

what i wish is to feel myself again and connect with others and the world again but that seems so far away. my heart is tarred and my brain - an electrical fire my legs prickly weights. very challenging to overcome how this feels and maintain positive beliefs.

first though i want to rest and recover physically and emotionally, see neuro and psych, upgrade level of therapeutic care, hold off on the shame of these struggles and simply try to get through them. right now without income or insurance i am in another tough situation.

im going to apply for a job today with the scarce descriptions of my experience cuz i think in this case details are less important and i can discuss work i did outside that triggering time so..see what happens

stay alive

[thydungeongal]

Hi thydungeongal! Your last post about Mercer and Mulligan left me a bit confused, cause I couldn't apply the wisdom found there to my own table I am cis-f. What should or can I do? Also we have a queer organized community in my hometown and they asked the rpg-club to run some games for them.

Do you have any pointers what a person like me should look into, for preparing a game for that community? (I am FULLY AWARE that I should talk and ask them questions, etc.) I want to avoid bringing up unsensible topics and unneccessary hurt and I feel like you can help me with that. Kind regards

Oh yeah, while my advice was targeted at cis male GMs, the same principle also applies to any tables with any cis men involved (for now). So, if your table has any cis men players you could have them draw straws on it. Or for the sake of solidarity I think it's better if they all agree to transition so no one feels left out. It's only fair.

Also I might not be the best equipped to answer that second question because while most of the games I'm involved in these days are majority queer in some way or another, I feel it's mostly just happened as a matter of "like attracts like" (and this was already happening before I realized that I was, in fact, trans) and not because I've actively sought it out if that makes sense? So it's hard for me to draw any general advice for queer tables from my experiences, besides the following:

Rolemaster is really good

Dungeon-crawling is really good

It's cool when you as a group collaborate to come up with a anime opening for your party

But specifically on the question of avoiding insensitive content and unnecessary hurt, I think to pre-empt those issues you can and should have a discussion on what sorts of topics the players would like to avoid, what the desired tone of the game is (so, like, you don't end up running Berserk when the players were expecting Slayers). But also you kind of need to be ready to accept the fact that you might accidentally and unknowingly stumble onto an uncomfortable topic with no ill intent and often the best way forward is to just address it, take it as a learning experience, and then move on.

Anyway you clearly have your heart in the right place so I'm pretty sure you'll do fine. :)