#cool program but how do you move stuff

[they-hermes]

tried clip studio paint for the first time ever, heres human first aid ambulon and ratchet

[moldycheezeit]

Chapter 1

You were a good kid, great kid even. But no one ever really knew, well maybe your high school science teacher and Alfred, but they were the only ones.  

Someone out there is probably thinking ‘‘well what about your mom she would surely care?” Well to bad she wasn't there, well at first she was, during the pregnancy, but when it was time for you to come into the world all of a sudden she didn’t fit into said world. So death took her away from you minutes after you were born. 

For that and maybe because you look like her, they probably wouldn’t know because they barely look let alone talk to you, they neglected you and it hurt because these are the people who are supposed to love and care for you. But with the help of Alfred you learned to take care of yourself which leads you to this moment. Like right now where you are standing at this very moment. At the school's science fair because you, even if people don’t believe it because of how pretty you are, are really smart when it comes to science. You learned for your love of science by reading a book that your mom had written and left behind after she passed. She left behind many more things for you but this stood out among the rest. It was mostly filled with ideas on things to create and ways that could make it possible. So you tried the one that you found the most interesting and figured out a way to create it. Of course it took a bunch of trial and error but you made it work with what you had. Seeing as Bruce never gave you any money ,like an allowance, you had to find scraps to make your inventions work. Now let’s get back to that competition. 

You are currently standing next to the table with your invention ‘the gauntlet’ yea you didn’t know what to name it. What it can do is tell you any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient. It takes the form of a bracelet but when activated it basically takes up the back of your hand and half of your forearm. It has two screens, one that you use to type and the other that gives off a hologram-like screen. Yea it’s clunky and doesn’t look right at the moment, but for your first model it’s great. 

While standing around waiting for the judges to come see your product you see a man. He looked to be in his 40’s and had short brown hair, a weird looking goatee, and was wearing… sunglasses? Indoors…welp at least he’s not wearing something stupid like a bat suit. He does look familiar but you can’t remember were from. You notice he’s looking around at the invitations and talking to the creators. And he seems to be heading in your direction like right now. He’s 5 tables away, 4, 3, 2– “Hey kid what’s this you got?” The man is smiling like he’s actually interested in what you have to say. That is not really normal. “This is a gauntlet I created to tell you of any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient.” You had responded to the man’s question confidently. “Wow you really programmed it to do all that.” He questioned, interested in the gauntlet that sits in the display case. “Yes, it took me a while to do it though.” You had said, uttering the last part to yourself. “ I can imagine seeing as I've done a bunch of stuff just like it.” The uh.. Weirdo, yea lets go with that, had told you. Now that surprised you, But before you could ask any questions the weirdo ,as you've dubbed him, started walking away. “Alright see you later kid, hope you win with that invention you got.” you could hear his voice starting to fade a bit as he walked away. And all you could think was ‘ Man was a weirdo.’ 

It's been a while since the judges had come over to your table, because right now they were deciding on who the top 3 will be. You kinda hoped one of them would be the red haired kid who made that moving metal arm out of scraps. To you it was just really cool. You can't help but hope to get in the top 3 as well because the winners get cash. ‘ I need that money so I can create more inventions, yea using what I have on hand is good but there is a limit of how much I can do with it. Not like Bruce would give me any.’ you had rolled your eyes thinking about that last sentence. Hopefully with the creations your mom thought of they could help you get enough money to never rely on that man again.

Just as you ended that thought the speakers in the hall started projecting what the announcer was saying into the mic. “ Can all the contestants make their way to the stage, the judges have finally made their decisions.”  You and all the other contestants start making your way to the front where the judges are.  luckily it's not that far of a walk and when you get there you all stand in a crowd.  when you all get there the announcer starts speaking “ even though we had a lot of good intentions this year only about three of you can make the top.  so we'll start from 3rd to 1st place in order of who got which.” As the crowd stands there in anticipation  the announcer starts speaking again “ In third place is kidd with his metal arm that he has made to help people who are missing limbs, we hope to see more in the future for him.” as people clap you see the red-haired kid you saw earlier walking up to get onto the stage in the announcer hands him a third place medal and a check with money on it. “ Now for second place Elijah who has made a machine that can take packages of  food and can make them into full meals.” Just like before you had seen this kid Elijah start walking up to the stage and when he got on the stage he had received his second place medal in his check that he had won. “And finally for our first place we have a (y/n) Wayne who has shown us a gauntlet. That can help people in the medical field  identify diseases  if they have a hard time figuring out what they are or what the patient has.” You're surprised to hear that you knew you were smart but you didn't know you would win first place. As you walk up to the stage you have a rush of excitement in you. Finally, you can have money to help create your inventions, your mom's inventions. you can finally fulfill the dream she had that she wrote in her books from before you were born.But when you go on stage the announcer only handed you the first place medal you were surprised to not see a check that came with it then out of the corner of your eye you see the same weirdo man from earlier with a big check walking towards you. “ Hey kid you won just like expected, hopefully you can put this money to use and make more amazing creations like the one you made for today.” But you couldn't help but say “ you look familiar.”  and happily he answers your question saying “I'm Tony Stark kid.” Ah.so that's why he looked so familiar. 

If you watch one piece see what I did there. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و I thought it would be a funny thing to put in. Also sorry I keep posting at like 1am its really the only time I'm free

Taglist : @cxcilla @starslightzz @jackchanzzz @simpingpandas @galaxypurplerose @spqce-buns @peche4et3chocolat @ryuushou @moon0goddess @fanficloverlol

[keferon]

Sorry in advance for the word vomit but. I love the whole Jazz-and-Prowl figuring out the language barrier but also consider:

They don't.

Prowl's been captured by Quintessons and is currently thinking of ways to completely scrape his processor so they can't get any useful data, only to get rescued by a random mech. They fight their way out (the mech is extremely proficient in combat). At first he thinks it's a drone- it looks at him when he asks questions but doesn't answer (responds to noise, not language), it is sparkless (not alive) and it makes random but entirely incoherent noises and doesn't even ping (not able to communicate). Prowl has no idea what's going on but he's too injured to make it back to base alone and it's helping him? So. He chalks it up to some waylaid stealth military asset and tries to think of ways to both get it back to base whilst also making sure it's not some sort of Quintesson Trojan-horse [10%].

Meanwhile, Jazz was sent to blow up a Quintesson command camp by his organisation but instead he got thrown through a weird portal, and found a pilot all tied down and probably being tortured so naturally he busted him out but uh. He has no idea what the other is saying. He's talking in total tonal gibberish. Not that he's judging, he's heard some stuff about how far other piloting programs are willing to go to advance neural technology. And his face! He has one! A handsome one. Must be some advanced shit because he's got micro expressions and he's using them to frown as him. Anyways, Jazz's got bigger fish to fry. The sky's a different colour, there are two suns and atmo is reading terribly low levels of O2. Maybe he and this pilot got thrown into an alien planet? Cool- well, actually pretty bad but hey they're in this together.

Prowl knows by models that they're bound to run into another Quintesson patrol eventually, and based on the drones alertness to its surroundings, his previous observations to its capacity to fight, and how it doesn't stray to far from him, if patrol numbers are favourable [1-8 range] they can survive [70, .5]% the route back to base. But the drone is reckless and abandons him to the melee (how can a drone be reckless?) and Prowl gets injured worse. Energon drips from wounds, and the angle makes it challenging for him to patch it. But the drone creeps closer, folds to its (knees? Its joints are in an odd but effective configuration) and gently (gently?) begins to mimic (clumsily) Prowl's motions of patching his wounds. Here is where Prowl falters, because drones are not so careful. Drones do not do not look up multiple times at his faceplates, and become more delicate when they see you in pain. Drones don't hold out a servo and help you to your pedes when your done. Which begs the question, if he's not a drone, so what has been done to this mech?

Jazz on the other hand is freaking the fuck out. Naturally. Because uh, he started slicing Quints, expecting Frowny to do the same because his mech was still clearly operational, only for the idiot to completely disregarded normal combat standards which can be summarised as 'fight hard or die' and instead get chewed on by some big ass teeth.

Only to see the glowing purple dripping from his torn sides, only to see that he's bleeding.

Machines don't bleed.

So Jazz figures out Frowny is an alien first. He starts pointing at himself and saying his name, insistently, until Frowny repeats it. He points at Frowny, and records and replays whatever sound bite Frowny makes until Frowny's also nodding in confirmation. He still calls him Frowny, because even though he has his name? Probably? He has no idea what it means and can't actually pronounce it (no idea how to get a mouth to move that way) but hey! Progress! He does this again and again with small things (rock, hand, cyber?animals, music (Frowny's confused at that one it's pretty adorable) ect.

Prowl has no idea what to make of this strange mech. Is he a failed experiment? A runaway from Cybertron following the Functionalists rise or power? Thennn Prowl finds out one fateful night that the mech is actually an alien organic (in a fit of misunderstandings, and squeezes him pretty hard for it ouch and feels SO guilty about it later) and suddenly the language/culture barrier makes way more sense.

Prowl's injuries degrade (a line splits). He has no way to communicate this except for the energon dripping out of his chassis. The organic is clearly worried (how did he think he was ever sparkless), and Prowl can't reach the injury himself. So he guides the mech's servos past armour and wiring, down to protoform (near his sparkchamber) to the split line. Gestures and hopes the mech can figure out what to do from his miming[#^%]. That'll he'll be careful, and won't hurt him [5%, 87%, #*%, *########%].

Frowny is later picking shrapnel stuck in his forearm that's too small for him to remove, so Jazz gets out of his mech to help with his small human hands. Jazz has no way to communicate to Frowny that if he moves, he'll sheer Jazz's limbs clean off, but he goes in anyway, because Frowny's hurt, and speckled in blood. Because he's clearly struggling and hurt and tired. Because Jazz has to trust that he won't.

Frowny's injures eventually make him collapse, and Jazz carries him the rest of the way. Jazz has no idea how they'll be received (especially considering how Frowny reacted when he found out Jazz was organic). Jazz knows he might be dissected. Knows he might be pulled apart (again) but.

He remembers all the little moments they had on their journey (Frowny shielding him from falling rubble when Jazz was out of his mech once, them getting to gesticulating arguments, Frowny's reaction to his music, how he fell asleep on Jazz once and it was fricken adorable).

It doesn't matter that Jazz can't say (barely understands) his actual name. That Frowny probably doesn't understand his. It doesn't matter that they talk in halting miming, in broken sound clips and touches and half-glares.

He's already gone out on all his limbs, might as well put his head on the chopping block. And if it causes him to lose the damn thing, well.

He's a pilot. Dying horribly is practically his job description.

OOOUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH DYING HORRIBLY IS PRACTICALLY HIS JOB DESCRIPTION,,,,,,,,,,,

[asce-of-hearts]

hello! I love your writings, I would like to ask you for some headcanons of platonic aizawa, present mic, hawks and endevor (separately) with a girl from the exchange program who stays at her house

Exchange

contents: Headcanons of Yan!Aizawa, Yan!Endeavor, Yan!Present Mic and Yan!Hawks with fem!reader who is an exchange student who is staying at their house. (Platonic!Yandere)

more Aizawa, Endeavor, Present Mic and Hawks content here!!

WARNINGS: IMPLIED CHILD/TEEN READER.

Aizawa Shota - Eraserhead

For someone who looks so relaxed, he's surprisingly strict.

With a death glare he tells you to behave. But he's never rude. He's just very stern, overprotective even.

"If something were to happen to you under my care, ___. What would I tell your parents?" it's his favorite phrase in all the world. Whenever you ask him for permission to do something, that's always his answer.

The only thing he isn't strict about is your sleep schedule. So long your finish your chores and homework, sleep as late as you want and wake up at whatever hour you prefer.

He's like... a dad in every sense of the word. He won't praise you, in fact, he'll tell you you suck ass all the time. In a loving way. Still, sometimes you see that unique look on his face when he's impressed by you, or moved, or whatever.

Enji Todoroki - Endeavor

He's trying to prove he doesn't suck ass. And he fails rather miserably at it.

He tries his best to be cool, a cool dad, a cool mentor, whatever. He isn't, his jokes are bad and being around him is uncomfortable at first. Mostly because he looks so fucking angry all the time.

Getting to know him is hard, takes a lot of patience. But after all, you learn he's not that bad. He's strangely comforting.

He gives you a warm embrace whenever you fuck up. He specially likes it when you cry, so he can pat your back reassuringly as he tells you how special you are to him, how important, how in his eyes, you'll always be number one.

He's fairly easy to manipulate. Just act upset, don't speak to him much and he'll bend and break within seconds, acting to your every whim.

Hizashi Yamada - Present Mic

Hizashi doesn't know what he's doing. It's not usual that they put children over his care, so he really is puzzled on what to do. What do you eat? What do you like? Does he have to take you on walks?

He tries his best, even if that means slacking off a little and eating junk food a lot of the time. But he makes you give your best, and will make you work hard to earn luxuries under his care.

He's loud, he likes loud people and loud places. He likes rowdy children who will break stuff and get dirty. He smiles a lot, he's warm and caring, and a good guy in general.

He's very tender, often getting very distressed at the thought of you doing dangerous things. He always seems about to pop a vessel whenever you go on a mission without him.

Keigo Takami - Hawks

Hawks is absolutely terrified of children. Much more when they're gifted. He sees himself in those eyes, in those bodies. And he panics.

He tries to act cool, non chalant, like he doesn't want to wrap you with his wings and keep you safe from everything around you. Like he won't take a bullet in the head just to ensure you get home safe from school. He's very good at pretending he doesn't care.

Perhaps the most overwhelming of the bunch. He has eyes and ears everywhere, he knows when you're lying, when you're feeling anything, when you crave, when you dream, when you cry. He knows it.

He's all over you. Picks out your clothes, your hobbies, your diets. He's a control freak.

But he's sweet. Always offering you comforting words and reassuring smiles. Always having something to bribe you with, to keep you content. To keep you his.

hope you enjoyed this

have a great day/night

TAGGING: @DollyWonyoung @garfieldthomas @Aki-sazuku @akirahyoshi @pasteldaze @Voidthewriting @rania200527 @mizzhellsingstuff @lilyalone @jessicainhell @duchessofhell85  @rosemary108233 @yukimutsu @repostingmyfavs @artist-in-training-wheels @mod-kyoko @rina-404 @eroscastle @fan4mha @goldenglow149 @hbk99450 @stranger00001 @DelicatelyCraftedBambi @kitzusune @Blueivyoreo @lakxcpsta @stardustdreamersisi @coolnekochan9961 @notreallyablogger @skeletonblush @moondrop-gummies

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[opiopal]

imagine just a regular human OM au,

as in like, no angels, no demons, no magic, none of that whatsoever, everyone is just their character trope but in a regular kinda sitcomy romance

RAD is just a fancy private school, Dia is like, the rich principals son who’s also like class president, and Luci is vice, snd luci made all his brothers join student council because he wanted them all to have at least one activity that would look good on a resume for them, mams is still known for being scummy, Levi is rarely seen at school cause he’s a shut in nerd, Asmo is super popular, ect. Ect. Literally it’s just them but… human. and mc showing up is just like, they qualified for this program and didn’t really know it(bc public schools suck at communication dog), and so they are suddenly told they’re gonna be flown halfway across the world for this, and the rest is history.

now, you guys are probably thinking, “Opi, you basically just said imagine OM but without the thing that makes it OM” and to that I say,

Yah lol,

BUT LISTEN!

it has potential to be cute, like, instead of big cool pact marks, it’s just the brothers who like mc doodling on their arms in pen when they’re bored, like they all do it and don’t really know why, but mc lets them so they do it. or like, mc is just given an item to signify that they gained that brothers friendship, like a bracelet, painted nails, a keychain, hairclip, a book, literally anything at all.

So maybe mc and mams becoming friends would have to be more of a hostage situation rather then an exchange??? Like, instead of “if I give you your credit card you gotta make a pact with me,” it’s “if you don’t give your brother his toy back I’ll cut your card,” and somehow it turned into mams hanging around mc more often, maybe he liked them being mean or something lol, we know how he is.

also, maybe this would make the brothers whole situation sadder?? Since it would practically be a highschool au, they’d all have to be like 16-19, so would this mean they got kicked out of their home after the death of their sister? Maybe their father, while in grief, decided to blame the seven of them for encouraging her? Maybe she got attacked/mugged, or got into a car crash with her bf? Obviously this work leave zero room for mc and her being related in a sense(maybe they had been friends in the past?) so the brothers beginning to like mc more would have to happen more organically instead of being pushed further along with the Lilith plot point.

Thought moving onto the other characters, Solomon is probably just a weirdo that’s into scifi stuff, and believes in a bunch of stuff(maybe ghosts are still real or something? So he gives mc things to ward off evil spirits as gifts) he’s probably still a student as well, but has back problems or something so everyone calls him old. Thirteen prolly just skips class whenever she feels like it(which is prolly always) so she’s rarely seen/isn’t seen until later into the series, but whenever she’s around she’s like, that one super cool side character that you want to hang out with but luci doesn’t allow it because he worries that she smokes behind the school or something wild like that. Mephisto I feel like would be that one kid you rarely see because he’s in all the honors and honors college classes, so unless you also get into one there’s a rare chance of seeing him around the school, though when you bump into him, he’s so weirdly passive aggressive, like sorry for breathing wrong I guess???? (He would totally get into a fight for someone stepping on his designer shoes) I could also imagine him pulling the whole “my father will hear of this!!” Crap. Though eventually he’d warm up and be pretty nice! Though wouldn’t wanna show it often in public, but he just might, only for mc of course. Raphael simeon and Luke are most likely those close family friends that you legit forget aren’t actually family because they’re so insanely close, and I can imagine they’re basically the same, though maybe luke isn’t a little speciest. Luke is most likely either just like, a 6th grader that is around sometimes, or is in a higher grade cause he was moved up. Simeon is on ao3, and TOL is totally an on going story he wrote in like the 5th grade and just kept it going because he realized people really really liked it. Levi is probably just one of those WEEEIRRDOOS who got the fics printed out into book format to keep physical copies of lol, rapheal.. I don’t know him very well, though I feel as if he’d be one of those like, eerily quiet kids, not like “the quiet kid” just.. he’s quiet, but you chat with him and he’s a bit of a nerd, not a raging one, but a chill one, and he likes his hedgehog, I could see him carrying a photo of his hedgehog around to show people.

now here’s the gag guys..

barbatos is the exact same, like there is nothing with him that seems different at all, he’s odd, he shows up randomly, he’s very attentive, and has his strong hate/fear of rodents. no one knows if he actually has any classes of his own because he just follows dia around all day long,

but yea, also no I’m not running out of ideas gang lol, this is just one of my many many OM AU’s I think about often, and I guess I’m just in a domestic mood today lol

[fashion-runways]

okay it's been over a year and i keep saying i'm going to make a new post and it's too exhausting to even think about the whole thing so i keep pushing it-- here's the link to the old post if you want a more detailed thing i wrote back then.

anyway, a year ago, out of the blue, our apartment got raided by the police, they broke our front door, they broke a bunch of shit inside, they took a bunch of our stuff, they barely gave us answers or an explanation, they took my dad and made it seem like he would have to sign some stuff and answer some questions and come back, but it's been over a year (since june 2022) and he hasn't come back, and his case is still up in the air. they're barely working on it. they didn't pay for all the shit they broke, they haven't returned all the shit they took, we had to spend a lot of money on that, i had to take a loan to buy a new computer so i could keep working and studying, on top of spending even more money on basic needs for my dad in jail and lawyers, plus blood pressure and anxiety medications, plus he's old and he was scheduled an eye surgery that he obviously couldn't go to so he's like, practically blind in one eye now, also new clothes for him to wear there (there's a bunch of rules for that), honestly i already lost track of how many things we had to pay for. it's been incredibly stressful and it still is even now that we've gotten used to it. he's been detained for a year for something that they still don't even know if he did and the case is barely moving, i don't know if they're like... i don't know, waiting for the man to die in there since he's already old so they don't have to admit they don't have enough proof for all the mess they made? i don't know. like i said back then, please don't ask me for details on the case or show up in my inbox trying to play tiktok true crime and guess what he did/didn't do. it happened a few times and it's extremely triggering, please don't. please.

this blog is basically my job. it's my primary source of income, i don't have anything else, no matter how many interviews i go to, in the country/city i live and in the state our economy is, if you don't have contacts it's impossible to get a job. i'm always signing up to free programs to learn new things while i don't have a job, try to make my cv bigger, but it doesn't matter. if you don't have someone saying “please hire my friend/family member” or you don't have 500 years of experience, they won't. so like i said, donations people make to this blog are how me and my mom (and my pets) stay afloat. it's what we use to pay for food, general groceries, transportation, electricity, wifi, water, gas, health insurance, stuff for my dad in jail, meds for my mom who has diabetes, food and meds for my pets. i don't go out much, i haven't gotten a haircut in a year, i barely spend money in anything that makes me happy except once in a blue moon when i stop feeling guilty lmao i had a redbubble account also that helped a little too, but last week it got suspended without an explanation as i was uploading new designs, so i don't even have that now. i made a new account on teepublic, but all my designs in high quality are locked behind redbubble and i can't even log into because of the suspension. it's... complicated, and it's a lot, but it is what it is.

i'm always keeping an eye out on new collections, new designers, new cool things. like i said, i love fashion, i studied fashion, and i know a lot of you use this blog as inspiration whether it's for yourselves or for your art, so i don't want to post all similar stuff all the time, i want to post all kinds of styles and brands as much as i can. which is why when i say if you like this blog, if you want to support me, sending even the smallest amount of money helps me keep going. living in latin america, the exchange rate is kind of insane, so truly any amount of money donated helps. unfortunately, i never stop needing money to survive and help keep my family afloat, but in the past year more than ever.

as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my (new) teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. if my redbubble account gets reinstated, i'll add that link eventually too. and as always, thanks for loving this blog and for loving fashion like i love fashion, even when i post crazy looking stuff, and thanks for helping. you have no idea how much your support helps, but it really does, i don't even know if i'd be alive right now if it wasn't for this blog.

[empty-movement]

Empty Movement's 2023 Revolutionary Girl Utena UPDATE

Fashionably late? As always. 2023 was a HUGE year for Empty Movement, so much so that to confess, we did a big fail in actually keeping up with sharing the stuff we did! OOPS. So finally, we proudly bring you: all the Revolutionary Girl Utena content we dropped in 2023. Essays, artbooks, CD information, you name it. Click below for the entire site update, or get it at the source, as always, at ohtori.nu.

In Analysis (Fan Essays): • seebee's essay The Power of Living an Embodying Narrative is about more than Utena, it's about the fandom--including us. We were both interviewed for this piece, and the result is an absolutely beautiful essay that has helped inform how we do Utena stuff going forward. Thank you so much for letting us be part of this! • seebee's VIDEO essay FILM CUTS BACK | transfeminism in utena absolutely blew our minds and it's so good we're listing it. Look at the title. Just go watch it, it rules. • Nicole Winchester's essay No Choice But To Become Witches: The Bishōjo-Demonic Phallic Mother Dichotomy in Revolutionary Girl Utena catches you up to speed on the academic discussion around what might best be described as the shoujo manga iteration of the Madonna-Whore complex. Then, naturally, it finds plenty to say about Utena. Great work that was well worth the coding!

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In From the Mouths of Babes (Translated Meta/Creator Content): • Cross X Talk, A Round Table Discussion Commemorating the Second Musical Utena GOGAI FUCKIN' GOGAI. Nagumo and friends bring us the final untranslated part of the 2019 Black Rose Musical's program guide: the monster interview with Ikuhara and the director of the musicals, Yoshitani. INCREDIBLE content here that 100% lives up to the first musical's similar encounter! A must read!! • The Rose Apocalypse's Ei Takatori Interview The director of the mysterious 1999 musical (yes the machine gun one, and YES WE HAVE MORE INFORMATION ABOUT IT COMING) interviewed in The Rose Apocalypse book. This...is that. Thank you so much to iris hahn for translating, and I can't wait to bring you more of this mythology!!! • The Utena Dossier Animage Magazine's June 1997 supplemental, this 36-page Utena tome has ben translated by Nagumo with editing by Ayu Ohseki. Because so much of the content is in its visual presentation, I worked the translation into the original scans! Check it out! (PS. Yes that is an entirely different gallery on the emptymovement.com domain, no this won't stay there, yes it has been a weird couple years.) The Dossier includes two long interviews that are also worked into html pages for easy viewing! The Auspicious Joining of Manga and Anime: Saito and Hasegawa For Whom the Director Smiles: Ikuhara and Kitakubo

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In Historia Arcana & The Bibliothèque (Untranslated Resources): • There are a lot of changes happening in this arena!!! How and where to place different materials has been a moving target, so I'll do my best! The sites don't quite reflect this yet, but Historia Arcana will be for cover to cover Utena media, including special magazine publications. Something Eternal's gallery, the Bibliothèque, will be for magazine articles, clippings, and other things. Major artbooks will likely be in both places, cross referenced. New books in Historia Arcana: • The Rose Spiral: Reflections on the Mythology of Utena While not strictly official, this is a fan published book of in depth analysis of Utena, circa 1998! Yep, cover to cover. • Revolution Dictionary (OST 1 First Press Bonus) Cross-referenced from Audiology, this is the bonus dictionary you only got if you grabbed it early! Cool! • Revolutionary Girl Utena Making of Visuals Book Art of UTENA I am mentioning this for completions sake and because I already uploaded it, but this is a cover to cover high resolution, uncleaned scan of the 1999 Art of Utena artbook. I am going to clean the scans, and ultimately be posting the official artbooks elsewhere. • Revolutionary Girl Utena Photobook: Rose Memories This special Animage bonus could be purchased for 700 yen, and back then, was probably a great way to keep the anime in your pocket! It's entirely shots from the TV series, though, so there's nothing specifically new. But I scan it all, baby. New books in the Bibliothèque: • Chiho Saito's 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection HI THIS IS A VERY BIG DEAL. Read more about why when you visit! TLDR? Here's some of the best artwork of Utena, rescanned and remastered by yours truly to be the best big big scans of big big beautiful Chiho Saito Art. This is a feast. I even made myself a calendar! (Note that the price is such that I don't make a profit on these, so if you're looking to donate, definitely go by other routes, haha.) You will find multiple ways to obtain the scans, and in more than one size. Either way you soak up the rays, enjoy 'em! New articles and clips in the Bibliothèque: • H! Rockin' on Japan Magazine Saito X Oikawa This fashion music magazine's July 1999 article has ALREADY BEEN TRANSLATED? Like, I am going to add the translation officially to the site of course, but holy hell Nagumo is amazing!! This article is actually the origin of a Saito art piece that uh, well. Now we know she went to a love hotel with movie Akio's VA. Cool! Anyway check it out! • Comickers Magazine, August 1997 This absolute monster find is an industry-focused magazine with this gorgeous spread and interview with Chiho Saito. It gets into how she does things. The making of Utena. All kinds of stuff. I'd LOVE to know more about this one!! • Comickers Magazine, June 1998 Again, an industry-focused publication, this time it's exploring the manga and the anime and how they compare. Again looks like a tasty meal!! • Volks Magazine, Spring 2022 YEP SCANS OF THE BOOK OF THE DOLLFIES. For a lot of us, this is at close as we get to these ludicrously gorgeous dolls. I included a few extra pages because they were just fuckin' cool and felt relevant. • Sega Saturn Magazine, December 1997 One of two grabs I got recently on Yahoo! Japan! This appears to be the first look announcement of the 1998 Utena video game! (Yes we have more on it, yes we will eventually post links.) • Sega Saturn Magazine, April 1998 This feature brings attention to the voice actors, who are all returning for the game! • Dengeki G's Magazine, January 1998 Another gaming focused magazine, with frankly a more adult edge, cheaply lets the readers know about Utena. These three game magazine moments are just a bizarre reminder of how we did things before the internet, LMAO

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In Audiology (Music and CD Information): • Complete information about the STAR CHILD - Girls Character Song Best album! You also definitely can't grab the two new remix tracks there. • Did you know there was a first press bonus dictionary for the first OST? I DIDN'T UNTIL RECENTLY. Now I know all about it, and so can you. Check it out! Obviously, scans available, both here and in Historia Arcana. • I FINALLY acquired a complete set of the Utena CD singles!! Check out complete track lists, scans, and information for ALL FIVE Utena singles. Yes. Including the movie Akio guy's one.

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In The Doujinshi Gallery: • Several dozen dounjinshi were uploaded earlier in the year, and can be found listed on the Site Update archive here.

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That's all for now, folks! There's so so so much coming. I have the episode 18 and 20 (!!!!) storyboards to scan, as well as a fully translated scanlation of The Duelist Bible. We're planning to do something for Anthy's rare LEAP YEAR birthday coming up, probably a musical stream or something! Love!

[comical-wheelchairs]

How I Work with Pre-K Kids as a Wheelchair User

I've given these tips to enough other wheelchair users that I figured I could make a post about it, and this blog is aligned enough with it that I figured I could post it here.

I've spent time as an administrator for a pre-K and school age programs, and I am also in my final year to be dual certified as a special education/general education elementary school teacher in America. I am also an ambulatory wheelchair user, but cannot safely move without a mobility aid, even when I am standing/walking. SO. Here's a guide/rundown of how I personally talk about disability with the kids I work with!

When First Meeting a Class

You do not need to explain/justify your wheelchair, and any adult who believes you do is probably doing it for their own curiosity and not an interest in the kids.

My personal recommendation is to say you are always happy to answer questions about yourself, and leave it open ended.

If the class had to be rearranged for your wheelchair and you feel comfortable saying so, I will sometimes say "I'm really grateful that you moved the furniture so I could get around. I can't wait to meet everyone!" It makes it clear why the need is there, and if a kid accidentally blocks you you can always ask them to move so you can get through and remind them.

When They Ask Questions

"Why do you use that?"

I respond by asking them what is 'that' - being careful to speak with a curious tone. For young kids, they might not know the word, and will probably point. From there you can say "oh! this is my wheelchair! have you heard that word before? i use it to get around since walking is [very hard/impossible/not something my body does]."

"Why don't you walk?"

I respond by telling them walking is something I can do for a little while, but it really hurts. Link it to a concrete example. "Have you ever gone into a super hot car, and you could do it for a little, but you wouldn't want to be in there all day?" "Have you ever tried to hold snow (or an ice cube) without gloves, and you could do it for a little but then it started to hurt your hands because it was so cold?" Make it personal, specific, and simple - developmentally they may still need support understanding that other people have different experiences (or might be totally unable to yet).

"How'd you get into that?"

I typically respond silly - "Well, I sat down!" If you want to, and you do not need to, you can make this into a (short, keep it short, their brains are so interested in everything and switch very quickly) lesson on transfers/how people get in/around with their wheelchairs.

"What happened?"

I respond by asking them what they mean. This typically leads to another question which I mentioned above. Alternatively I sometimes say "I realize a wheelchair helps me get around safely!"

"How do you use the bathroom?"

My strategy that's worked best is being calm and friendly while saying "I don't like talking about how I use the bathroom." If you can redirect after that (point out something for them to do, change the subject to something they'll find more interesting) it'll make it easier. If they ask why, you can say that everyone has stuff they don't like talking about and for you it's the bathroom.

Physical Interactions With Your Chair

They touch your chair

We had a big thing about this in my pre-K rooms - what we would do is if a kid tried to touch my chair (or did) I would tell them "It's so cool that you want to explore my wheelchair, but I want to make sure you're safe, because there's a lot of moving parts that can pinch you! Can I give you words for when you want to touch my wheelchair?" If no, then let them know you can't let people who can't be safe touch your wheelchair. If yes, give them a script to ask for permission - you will have to repeat it. A lot. Gentle repetition is your friend and within two months my kiddos were asking everyone permission to touch them at school. My script went "Teacher Pecan, can I touch your wheelchair?" "No, now it's a safe time, because [I am moving a lot/I am tired/I need a break/you have a task to do]. We can check in again [when it is a break time/when I feel better/when you finish your task." "Yes, it is safe to touch my wheelchair right now. Can you point to where you want to touch?"

They kick your chair

Every time a kid kicks/hurts your chair, say "ouch! that hurt! my wheelchair is part of my body, it helps me get around!" Repetition and speaking clearly are your friends. If a kid keeps kicking your chair, finding another thing for them to kick (for example, a ball) can help divert the kicking need into something safer for everyone :)

They (try to) sit in your lap

Gently use your hands to get them off or keep them off. Calmly say "Oops! My wheelchair isn't big enough for the two of us!" If they complain/protest, validate and then explain. My script is "I know it looks like a cool place to sit, but my wheelchair is just for me."

They (try to) push your wheelchair.

My last two chairs had no push handles, but my second one did! It can make sense to panic when I kiddo pushes you - I've had them try to push me into walls (by accident). Here's what I did that worked great: Immediately lock my breaks/grab my pushrims, and calmly say "oops! We don't push wheelchairs without permission!" If they stuck around/didn't immediately run away, I would ask them if they remember a time an adult picked them up and took them somewhere they didn't want to go (typically a car). If they say yes, and even if they say no, I explained that pushing my wheelchair feels just like that, and makes me scared. Most children never pushed it again, and everyone stopped after the second try.

Miscellaneous Tips

"Isn't that cool?" is your friend. Any time a kid is first learning about your wheelchair, end the sentence with it. Any time a kid is nervous about your wheelchair and you explain something, end the explanation with it. "It helps me get around, isn't that cool?" "These are called spokes. Aren't they cool?"

Wheelchairs can be grounding tools when you have a good handle on the class and boundaries! Only if you would like to. My spokes on my last chair were rainbow, and I would use my chair to physically get between them and the emotional trigger, and ask them questions about my spokes. "What colors are next to green?" "Can you point to which one is your favorite?" "Hmmm which color do I get if I mix red with blue?"

"Why doesn't [limb(s)] work?" My left foot is (mostly) paralyzed due to nerve damage, and my script is "My brain can't talk to my foot and tell it to move." You can say whatever you'd like, just try and keep it to basic body parts unless the kiddo is super into anatomy.

If they imply/say wheelchairs are bad, or you might be sad for being in one, you can correct them by telling them how cool your wheelchair is! Get them to compliment it too, if their attention span allows. "I don't feel sad about my wheelchair, I love it! I love the color! Do you? What color do you think I should get next?"

In conclusion - talking calmly, positively, and using repetition of the same words/scripts is a great way to not just exist in a classroom hassle free, but to get kids comfortable with disability/mobility aids at a young age. I have had kids get pinched by my chair (he grabbed my axle from behind), and luckily I had my higher ups on my side and they agreed that I made every effort to keep the kids safe (plus he learned his lesson lol, he always asked permission after that). Your mileage may vary based on admin and their attitudes, so play it by ear, and change any of my tips as needed. Feel free to send questions to this blog too. :)

[xvazx]

The Beauty of Our Chaos

Part 1 - Cool Girl Is Game

Introduction / Next Part

I never thought I’d be the type of girl to join a sorority, but here I was, standing in the middle of Delta Nu’s impossibly pink common room, surrounded by girls who looked like they belonged on a Vogue cover. Mariel and I had just moved into our new room at UPenn, fresh-faced freshmen, and after weeks of plotting, we had somehow made it into the most sought-after house on campus.

“Can you believe we are here?” Mariel asked, plopping onto her bed with a dramatic sigh.

“Can you believe how long it’s gonna take me to defrost my fake smile?” I shot back.

To get in, I had to fake it till I made it. I wasn’t their first choice—not even close. Delta Nu girls had a certain effortless glow, and I was… well, I was a computer science major who spent most of time trying not to collapse. But with just the right amount of preppy outfits, carefully curated small talk, and a convincingly chirpy “Oh my god, totally” at rush events, I had squeezed my way in.

Before we could even start unpacking, Missy Houghton, our sorority president, breezed in with her perfect blowout and clipboard in hand.

“Ladies, welcome to Delta Nu! Just a quick reminder of your very busy Initiation Week schedule,” she said, handing us a printed itinerary. “Tonight, we have the Ceremony & Oath, Tuesday is Welcome to Pilates, Wednesday is New Me Conference, Thursday is our Fundraiser, and of course, Friday is our Newbie Initiation Tradition—which is a total surprise, so don’t even try asking.” She winked before twirling out of the room.

Mariel and I exchanged a look. What did we get ourselves into?

After taking a short walk from the house, we went our separate ways—Mariel to her graphic design classes, and me to my Introduction to Computer Programming lecture.

The moment I walked in, I knew this class was a walk in the park. The professor started going over variables and loops, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Then, just to make it really fun, he handed out a pop quiz on basic programming concepts.

I finished mine in record time, turned it in, and went back to doodling in my iPad. A few minutes later, I caught the professor glancing at my paper, then back at his computer. After class, he called me over.

“Miss (Y/L/N), right?” He adjusted his glasses, scanning my student file. “You’re this year’s full scholarship?”

I nodded.

“Hmm. Well, judging by this quiz, this class might be too easy for you. Have you considered taking a level test to skip ahead?”

It wasn’t a bad idea.

Following his instructions, I went to Student Service’s to request a level test—and, as expected, I placed two levels above. That meant I’d be in classes with sophomores now.

That night, as Mariel and I debriefed in our dorm about our day, she threw a pillow at me.

“You just got here, and you’re already skipping classes? How do you do it?!” she groaned.

I caught the pillow and tossed it back. “I didn’t do anything. I bet everyone was gushing over your art skills today.”

“Shut up, Miss Genius.” she interjected my explanation.

TUESDAY - 7 AM

The following morning, I walked into my new classroom with a printed letter from the department in hand. The professor beamed as I handed it over.

“And here she is,” he said dramatically, turning to the class. “Our newest addition! Not only is she here on a full scholarship, but she’s also skipped two levels, meaning she’s already putting you all under pressure!”

I gave a small, awkward wave. The room was silent.

Then it hit me.

I was the only girl in the room.

Great.

I sighed, found an empty seat, and tried to ignore the stares. It wasn’t my first time being in a male-dominated space, and it wouldn’t be my last. I tuned them out and focused on the lecture.

Or at least I tried.

After class, as I packed up my stuff, three guys walked over. One of them looked… familiar.

“Hey,” the curly-haired one said, tilting his head. “This might sound bad, but where do I know you from?”

I turned fully to face him. Thick eyebrows. Curls. That annoying but weirdly cute smile.

Memories flooded back.

I smirked. “Wow. You really do have a terrible memory, Jonas Brother.”

His friends lost it. One practically doubled over laughing.

“Ohhh,” one of them wheezed. “Dude, she got you.”

Luigi blinked, then finally connected the dots. “Oh shit. Nationals.”

“Took you long enough.”

His friends were still cracking up. One of them clapped him on the back. “Dude, you always know the hotter girls.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So what, you’re in this class now?” another one asked. “Why haven’t we seen you before?”

“Freshman,” I said, shouldering my bag.

Luigi was still looking at me, amusement playing at the corners of his lips. “So, you just happened to land in a level 3 class, huh?”

“Tragic, really,” I deadpanned.

“Seriously, though,” another chimed in. “You should come to one of our frat parties. Now that you’re officially in our class, you are one of us.”

I barely held back an eye roll. Of course they were in a frat.

“Cool,” I said vaguely, already looking at my phone. “Noted.”

Then I noticed the time.

“Crap. I gotta go,” I muttered, swinging my bag over my shoulder.

“Where to?” Luigi asked.

I sighed. “Pilates.”

One of the guys perked up and whistled. “Nice.”

I cringed.

I turned to leave, but as I walked away, I heard Luigi’s voice behind me.

“See ya around.”

Without looking back, I just raised a hand in a half-hearted wave.

“Okay,” I called over my shoulder.

WELCOME TO PILATES

The air in the studio was thick with the scent of lavender-scented disinfectant and the soft hum of an upbeat playlist. Mariel and I sat on our mats, stretching, surrounded by a dozen other Delta Nu girls. Apparently, as bonding activity we had to sign up for at least one group fitness class.

Honestly? The politics of this house were exhausting. But if faking enthusiasm for Pilates was the price I had to pay to stay in Delta Nu, so be it.

Mariel groaned as we attempted another core-strength move. “This is a requirement? What kind of sorority is this?”

“The type that values toned abs over GPAs,” I muttered, wobbling slightly.

She snorted. “At least you’re suffering with me.”

We both struggled to hold our position when I casually dropped, “Oh, by the way, guess who’s in my new class?”

Mariel barely glanced at me, too focused on not collapsing. “Unless it’s the ghost of Steve Jobs here to give you a job at Apple, I don’t care.”

I smirked. “Luigi”

She blinked. “Mario?”

I chuckled quietly, my arms shaking from exertion. “The Jonas Brother.”

Mariel’s eyes went wide. She lost balance completely, flopping onto her mat. “OMG, this is destiny,” she whisper-screamed.

I shot her a look. “What?”

“Be honest,” she accused, regaining her composure. “Did you move from Cali to be close to him?”

I rolled my eyes. “Callatee.. you know why I chose UPenn over UCLA. And you came with me, remember?” (Shut up)

She laughed. “I’m kidding.” Then she tilted her head. “Wait… what’s his actual name again?”

I paused. “Luigi… I don’t know his last name.”

From my right, another girl—blonde, toned, and effortlessly balanced in the Pilates pose I had given up on—leaned in slightly and whispered, “Sorry, are you talking about Luigi Mangione?”

I turned to her. “Not sure.”

“Curly hair? Italian? STEM guy?”

Mariel and I exchanged a look. “Yeah,” I said.

She grinned knowingly. “Ohhh.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

She giggled, lowering herself gracefully into the next pose. “Just don’t let Missy stop you. She’s been trying for a year.”

I nearly dropped my balance again. “Stop me? From what?”

Mariel and the girl—who I now realized was named Kaylee—both gave me the same amused look.

I blinked. “What?”

Kaylee just shook her head, still smirking. “Nothing.”

Mariel’s smirk was even worse.

Between boys and core training, I wasn’t sure which task I sucked at more.

WEDNESDAY - NEW ME

Blah blah blah

THURSDAY- FUNDRAISER BOOTH

Pink. So much pink.

I glanced around at the Delta Nu booth, which looked like a sorority version of Mean Girls—pink banners, white ribbons, pastel decorations. It was all very on brand, and all very not me.

The only thing remotely acceptable in my wardrobe was a pair of white shorts and a band tee. Missy was not pleased.

“Don’t you have anything pink that is actually cute?” she asked, looking at me like I’d personally insulted her ancestors.

Mariel, clapped a hand on my shoulder. “She can borrow something of mine!”

I shot her a look. “Girl, where is my ass gonna fit in your clothes?”

She grinned. “Don’t insult your Latina hips.”

I laughed, but it didn’t change the fact that I was still stuck in a Blondie tee while everyone else looked like they’d walked out of a Tampon commercial. Whatever. It wasn’t like I’d chosen this sorority for the aesthetic.

We finally made it to the booth, where Missy explained the actual reason we were here—raising money for charity.

Noble. Love that.

Then came the catch.

Next month, Delta Nu was hosting a fashion show, and each of us had to raise money. The girl who raised the most money would win the ability to keep her own outfit from a designer catalog. Meanwhile, the rest of us? Our outfits would be chosen for us by our highest donor.

I blinked. “What the hell?” I muttered under my breath.

Did I accidentally join a brothel?

Mariel choked on a laugh next to me.

Students stopped by our booth throughout the afternoon, reading about the charity and looking at the fashion show details. Most were supportive. Some donated out of actual generosity. Others… not so much.

Cue Gym Bro.

This dude—overly tan, protein shake in hand, and all biceps—strolled up and made a significant donation. Not for charity, of course. No, he had one goal.

“To see her in lingerie,” he said with a smirk, nodding in my direction.

If looks could kill, Gym Bro wouldn’t just be dead—he’d be erased from history.

Before I could tell him exactly where he could shove his donation, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Well, well, not only is she smart, but she’s into the crazy life.”

I turned to see frat bros approaching the booth, all smug grins and easy confidence. Damien, was the one who spoke, looking at me like I’d just confirmed a long-standing theory about my secret double life.

“Surprise,” I deadpanned. “Delta Nu.”

Luigi smirked. “I should’ve predicted it from the Barbie Dreamhouse.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That Barbie Dreamhouse kicked your ass.”

He tilted his head, amused. “Now you’re coming for my reputation?”

Before the tension could build further, Mariel cut in.

“Damn, Jonas Brother, you got tall.”

Luigi glanced at her, clearly recognizing her face but not placing the name.

He snapped his fingers. “St. Trinity. Right?”

Bingo.

His friends took the opportunity to introduce themselves, wanting to get ahead of the game. Gross.

They asked about the charity, and we explained.

Of course, their intrigue had nothing to do with charity and everything to do with the fashion show. Free sorority girls on a runway? Predictable.

I sighed. “You’re late. Jerk-face over there already donated a lot to see me in lingerie.”

The guys gushed among themselves, clearly entertained.

Damien grinned. “Damn, we can’t surpass that.”

“You could’ve saved me,” I said dramatically.

“Too late now.”

“At least I can mentally prepare.”

Before they could continue their antics, Missy appeared out of nowhere, her signature flirty smile locked in on Luigi.

“Hey stranger” she greeted, voice a little too smooth.

He responded politely, but I could tell he wasn’t particularly invested.

“What brings you here?” she asked, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, just saying hi,” he said, nodding at me.

Missy’s eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to me. “Ohhh, you guys know each other?”

I shrugged. “Old foes. And we have the same coding class.”

Missy blinked. “Right. So, are you coming to the show?”

He hesitated. “I think I have lab hours.”

Missy pouted slightly but played it cool. “No prob, we can talk later.”

Mariel and I barely held in our laughter.

Missy got called away, leaving the rest of us in her wake. The moment she was gone, Mariel and I mocked her voice in unison.

“So nice to see you,” we mimicked, fluttering our eyelashes.

The guys chuckled, clearly enjoying the show.

But then, Luigi checked his phone. “We should head back to our booth.”

As they started walking away, he turned back, smirking at me.

“I guess next class, we’ll see who’s the better coder.”

I smirked right back.

Yeah, you better run.

FRIDAY - INITIATION

By the time sun sets, I was already regretting my life choices.

Mariel and I sat cross-legged on our beds, nerves sitting like lead in our stomachs. We were under strict orders to come straight back to the sorority house after classes, no questions asked.

At 6:50 p.m., the call came.

“Newbies, to the living room!”

Mariel shot me a wide-eyed look. “This is it. We’re either going to become legends or complete social pariahs.”

“Maybe both,” I muttered, standing and smoothing down my jeans.

We shuffled into the living room where the superior sisters, Missy, and the house mother were lined up in matching black caped robes, holding envelopes like they were about to announce a Hunger Games death match.

Missy’s smile was almost predatory. “Welcome to your Initiation.”

A nervous murmur rippled through the room.

Missy stepped forward. “This is a scavenger hunt. You will each have five hours to complete a series of tasks. Some will be… challenging.”

That should’ve been the first red flag.

She continued, “For proof, you’ll need to take pictures and submit them before midnight. Fail to complete the list, and you risk losing your spot at Delta Nu.”

The room collectively stiffened.

“The prize?” Missy’s smile sharpened. “You stay and earn the respect of your sisters.”

I didn’t care about the “respect” part. I did care about my scholarship. I needed to stay in Delta Nu to keep it.

She handed out envelopes. “Good luck, girls.”

I opened mine and scanned the list.

Some were easy. Others? Not so much:

• Collect a pair of boxers from a frat president and have him sign it

“What the hell?” I whispered to Mariel.

“I’m not touching any guy’s used underwear,” she hissed.

“Me neither,” I said. But we both knew that wasn’t true. I had to complete this.

When the timer started, we all scattered.

I powered through the easy ones first:

✅ Apply a full face of makeup to a campus statue? Done.

✅ Selfie with a Professor? Easy.

✅ Steal a traffic cone? On my arm.

Then I hit the wall: the boxer situation.

I sat on a campus bench, scrolling through my phone, looking up the frat presidents. Maybe this was my end. Not knowing how to seduce a guy out of his panties.

And there it was.

Luigi Mangione - Phi Kappa Psi.

Of course he was president. Because the universe hated me.

I opened Instagram to look him up. Luckily for me his profile was public and his latest story showed he was at the school gym.

“Great,” I muttered. “Guess I’m about to enter my villain era.”

I took a breath and ran to the gym, showing my student ID to the desk clerk, who barely glanced up before waving me through. Apparently, they were used to sorority girls losing their minds during initiation week.

I spotted him almost immediately, walking toward the showers with a towel over his shoulder.

I froze. My heart pounded.

I could leave. I could figure something else out.

But the timer was ticking.

Nope. I’m doing this.

I marched toward the men’s locker room. A couple of guys gave me side-eyes as I walked in.

“Sorry! Emergency!” I said, which only made it more suspicious.

My heart was practically pounding out of my chest as I stopped outside the shower stall. I knocked on the wall.

“Kinda busy, man,” Luigi’s voice called. “There are other showers.”

I took a deep breath. “Oh, I know that.”

There was a long pause. Then:

“…hi?”

Luigi’s head peeked out from the stall, water dripping from his curls. He blinked. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

I turned my face toward the wall, covering my eyes. “I know this looks like the setup for a cheap porno, but I swear it’s not what it looks like.”

He smirked. “It looks pretty compromising.”

“Trust me, it’ll get worse.” I sighed. “I need a favor.”

He rinsed his face and wiped his hands down his chest.

“Let me get the shampoo out of my eyes, and then we’ll talk.”

“Okay.” I stood there, face still covered.

A minute later, the shower stopped. A damp hand brushed my shoulder.

“You can look now.”

I peeked through my fingers and saw him standing there in a towel, hair dripping. Men’s Health prepared me for moments like this.

“Initiations have gotten cheeky,” he joked.

“I need your underwear,” I blurted.

He raised his brows. “Come again?”

I forced myself to explain the task. He listened, expression somewhere between amused and shocked.

When I finished, he shook his head. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“You realize you’re asking me to walk home commando, right?”

I shrugged. “I’ll be disgusted if that’s your only clean pair.”

He laughed and pulled a pair of blue boxers from his gym bag. “You got a Sharpie?”

I pulled one from my pocket. “Here.”

He grinned and signed them. “So you need a picture, too?”

“Yep.”

He handed me the boxers. “Let’s get this over with.”

I held the boxers up in one hand, stood next to him, and snapped a photo. He smiled—a relaxed, easy smile.

“Be nice to them,” he teased.

“Thanks,” I said, tucking the boxers into my bag.

I bolted out of the locker room, the list and my bag on one hand and the traffic cone on the other, heart hammering in my chest.

I was halfway across campus when I heard someone shout my name.

“(Y/N) wait!”

I turned

Luigi—now dressed—was jogging toward me.

“What else is on your list?”

I showed him the list.

He frowned. “These are easy.”

“Not when you’re under pressure.” I interjected.

“Let me help you.”

“You’re not supposed to help.”

“I don’t see a rule against it.” He smirked. “C’mon.”

I didn’t argue.

We made quick work of the rest:

✅ Try on the campus mascot costume? It stinks.

✅ Steal a UPenn banner? Done.

✅ Buy a random guy a drink at the closest bar? Luigi handled that part.

We talked as we walked between tasks. He told me about his frat initiation—doors locked, food and alcohol flowing, and seniors throwing impossible tasks at them.

“Deadly,” he joked.

“You survived.”

“Barely.” He grinned.

By the time we finished, I had enough minutes to spare.

Luigi walked me back to the sorority house.

“Well, I guess this means you’re officially Delta Nu,” he said, stopping at the steps.

“Yeah.”

“See you in class?”

I smiled. “Unless I skip to recover from this trauma.”

He laughed. “You’ll survive.”

I ran inside, dumped my evidence on the table, and collapsed onto the couch.

Missy’s eyes narrowed. “You got everything?”

“Everything,” I confirmed.

Her gaze shifted from Luigi’s face on the picture to his signature. Her smile tightened.

“So?”

Missy’s smile sharpened. “Alright.”

I just rolled my eyes.

I was safe. That’s all that mattered.

@nosebeers

hi i’m Vaz, this was just a product of my active imagination, free time and the need for a better outcome. Hope u enjoy xxx

I’m not American and most of my knowledge is from movies and some research. Sorry if it sounds inaccurate to real greek life. But hey it’s fiction .

[lilahlovesjjk]

🇼​​🇭​​🇪​​🇳​ ​🇮​ ​🇬​​🇷​​🇴​���🇼​ ​🇺​​🇵

Chapter 1

synopsis: You and Satoru Gojo used to be inseparable—the kind of childhood best friends that promised to get married, rule the world, and never leave each other’s side.

Then life happened.

Now, years later, you’re both enrolled in the same elite psychology graduate program—only this time, you’re rivals. Gojo’s loud, flirty, obnoxiously charming, and infuriatingly good at everything. You're focused, sharp, constantly proving yourself—and desperate not to let the past (or him) throw you off course.

warnings: angst, slowburn (kinda), swearing, eventual nsfw, (i'll add to the list if I think of any more as the story progresses)

– Summer, Age 8

The grass is itchy under your knees, but you don’t move.

Not yet.

If you shift even a little, the crunch of a leaf or the snap of a twig will give you away—and you’ve waited far too long for the perfect shot to ruin it now.

Your hands are a little muddy from crawling through the overgrowth, but you’ve got a bright blue water balloon clenched in your fist like it’s a grenade. He’s right there, not ten feet away, lying back in the shade like some smug prince in a storybook. His white hair’s a messy halo around his head, his mouth open like he’s snoring, and his stupid sunglasses are still perched on his nose like he’s too cool for real life.

Satoru Gojo is many things. Annoying. Loud. Impossible to ignore. But right now? He’s your target.

You bite your lip to stop from laughing. Almost there.

You stand slowly—just enough to get the angle right—and hurl the water balloon at him with every ounce of righteous vengeance your tiny body can muster.

It smacks into his stomach with a loud, glorious splat.

There’s a split-second pause, and then—

“HEY!” Gojo shrieks, jolting upright like he’s been electrocuted. “What the hell?!”

You double over laughing as he scrambles to his feet, dripping wet and flailing, looking every bit like a soaked, indignant cat.

“That’s cheating!” he yells, pointing at you with the burst remains of the balloon.

You wipe tears from your eyes, still laughing. “You said no plastic guns,” you manage between wheezes. “You didn’t say anything about balloons.”

“That’s, like... that’s a loophole!” He sputters, wringing out his shirt. “A double cheat!”

You beam, crossing your arms smugly. “Sorry you can’t keep up.”

Gojo narrows his eyes, and you know that look—the one that means retaliation is imminent. You scream before he even moves, bolting toward the hill with him hot on your heels, wet footsteps slapping against the packed dirt.

You don’t get far.

He tackles you easily, the two of you tumbling into a patch of grass in a tangle of limbs, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You roll onto your back beside him, flushed and muddy, with grass stains smeared up your arms and across your knees.

“Truce?” you pant.

Gojo raises a brow. “Until dinner.”

“Fine.”

For a while, neither of you say anything. The air is warm and lazy, filled with the buzz of cicadas and the faint sound of a distant lawn mower. A breeze lifts the ends of your hair. You close your eyes, letting the sun paint gold behind your eyelids.

“I don’t wanna grow up,” you murmur.

Gojo turns his head toward you. “Why not?”

You shrug, cracking one eye open. “Grown-ups are weird. They never smile unless it’s fake. They forget how to play. And they’re always sad or tired or mad about bills.”

He’s quiet for a second, chewing on that. Then he sits up and squints at the sky, like he’s trying to map out the future with his bare eyes.

“Okay,” he says finally. “So... let’s not grow up like them.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

“We’ll grow up like us,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ll be cool. And happy. And we’ll live in a giant house with a home theater and dogs. Lots of dogs.”

You snort. “You can’t even take care of your goldfish.”

“You’ll take care of them,” he says without missing a beat. “And I’ll do the money stuff.”

“I’m not being your dog butler.”

“Fine,” he relents, lying back again with a heavy sigh. “We’ll just order pizza forever and never do dishes. That better?”

You’re quiet for a long moment, eyes on the sky. Then, before you can overthink it, you ask:

“Will I still know you?”

Gojo turns his head to look at you. The sun glints off his sunglasses. He pushes them up onto his forehead so you can see his eyes—bright, blue, and so very certain.

“Duh,” he says. “We’re gonna be together forever, because when I grow up i'm gonna marry you."

Your throat feels weird. Tight. Like the wind is pressing down on it.

“You promise?”

He stares at you for a beat too long.

And then he grins, wide and warm and stupid, and sticks out his pinky. “I promise.”

You hook yours with his, and it’s so simple. So easy.

You don’t know that in just a few years he’ll outgrow you, you will see him pass by you in the hallways without sparing you a second glance. You won’t hear from him. You'll wait and wonder and outgrow the field you used to conquer together.

But right now, you believe him.

Because Gojo Satoru has never broken a promise to you.

Not yet.

And then the bus screeches to a halt, jolting you back into the present so hard your teeth knock together.

You blink hard, vision clearing just in time to see the stop sign flash past.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, "I'm gonna be late." You scramble to grab your bag and jump out of your seat.

The bus doors hiss open, and you leap down the steps like they’ve burned you.

The air is thick with the late-summer heat that clings to everything, and your backpack bounces against your spine as you take off at a half-run, dodging slower pedestrians on the sidewalk with the precision of someone who refuses to be the person who walks into class late on the first day.

You barely glance at the campus you’ve spent the last week trying to emotionally prepare yourself for. It’s prestigious. Gorgeous. Overachieving in that old-money kind of way. Red brick buildings covered in ivy. Classical columns. Students who already look like they’ve read Freud in Latin.

Your stomach churns with nerves and caffeine and adrenaline.

Psych grad school. You made it. You’re here. You’re—

Five goddamn minutes late.

You shove the heavy door open to the psych building and stumble into the main lecture hall, breath catching as your eyes sweep the room. It’s sleek and modern, filled with floor-to-ceiling windows and that painfully sterile academic lighting. The room is basically entirely full.

You bite down a curse and step inside as quietly as you can. The professor hasn’t started speaking yet, thankfully, though she’s flipping through her notes at the podium with thinly veiled impatience.

You scan the rows.

And freeze.

Because of course the only empty seat left in the entire godforsaken room is next to him.

Gojo Satoru.

You nearly choke.

He’s lounging in the seat like he owns it, one arm slung over the back of your empty chair, legs sprawled out comfortably, sunglasses still perched arrogantly on his nose despite the fact that you’re indoors. His white hair is messier than you remember. The curve of his jaw has sharpened. The cocky grin on his face? Unchanged. Timeless. Infuriating.

Your heart stutters once in your chest—and then slams back into your ribs like it’s trying to make a break for it.

You haven’t seen him in years.

Not since he stopped talking to you.

Not since he broke a promise with a pinky and a smile.

And now he’s sitting there, as if no time has passed at all.

You move before you can think, before your legs decide to betray you completely. You make your way down the aisle, eyes forward, shoulders squared like you’re going into battle.

He notices you halfway down the steps.

You can feel the exact moment he recognizes you.

“...angel?”

His voice is low, curious. Disbelieving. A slow grin spreads across his face like the sun rising to mock you personally.

“No way. No way.”

You drop your bag next to the seat and sit down without looking at him.

“Don’t call me that,” you say, voice tight.

He leans over slightly, like he’s trying to make sure it’s really you. “Holy shit. It is you.”

“Gojo,” you acknowledge coolly, fixing your gaze on the front of the lecture hall.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, cheerfully:

“You look good.”

“Do not flirt with me,” you snap.

“Who’s flirting?” he says innocently. “Maybe I’m just surprised you turned out so—” He flicks his fingers vaguely toward your face. “—symmetrical.”

You grit your teeth. “And you turned out exactly like I thought. Arrogant. Unbearably loud. And wearing sunglasses indoors.”

“They’re prescription,” he lies.

“They’re not.”

He shrugs, clearly pleased with himself. “Still mad at me, huh?”

You shoot him a look that could cut steel. “Mad? No. I don’t waste energy on people who just basically disappear like cowards.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Wow. Right in the ego.”

“You don’t have an ego. You are an ego.”

The professor clears her throat at the front, and the class falls into silence. She introduces herself as Dr. Yuki and launches into the syllabus, but your focus is already shot to hell. You’re hyper-aware of Gojo next to you. The faint scent of his cologne. The way his long fingers tap restlessly against his notebook. The occasional sideways glance he throws you like he’s dying to say something else.

Halfway through the lecture, she opens the floor for discussion—early theories of personality and identity formation.

You raise your hand.

So does he.

You both speak at once.

She points to you.

"Adverse Childhood Experiences, like abuse, neglect, and household dysfunction, can disrupt brain development leading to long-term negative impacts on physical and mental health." you explain, "Some may argue though that ones genetic temperament they inherit from their parents may also shape how they turn out. While I do agree that genetics may cause some of it, I have to agree with Vygotsky when he says that the environment and social interactions does play a more substantial role in early development."

You hear a few murmurs of encouragement and classmates sharing ideas based off of what you just said, you fit in here even though you were the only one late.

"Well done. That was very well explained, I can see you doing well in this class." Dr Yuki says with a nod

Gojo raises his hand. Of course he does.

“I mean, sure, environment’s huge,” he says lazily. “But your explanation on the way individual temperament shapes how a person interprets that environment was lacking. Two kids in the same house, totally different outcomes. Like me and—” he gestures toward you with a grin, “—my charming rival over here.”

You glare at him. “I’m not your rival.”

“Aw,” he says, eyes sparkling. “You’re right. You’re more of a—what’s the word? Stalker?”

A few students laugh.

You want to strangle him with your tote bag.

Gojo spoke up again to continue his point. “Anyways, two people raised under the same roof can have wildly different outcomes because of how they’re wired from the start. Personality traits like resilience, impulsivity, emotional regulation—they aren’t always shaped by the environment. Sometimes they shape how someone responds to it. You’ve got to factor in nature and nurture, or you’re missing half the picture.”

He shrugs, leaning back again, his voice annoyingly smooth.

“I’m just saying, not everyone who grows up in a tough household ends up traumatized. Some people—” he tilts his head, his grin curling into something a little sharper, “—come out even stronger.”

Your jaw tightens.

It’s a valid point, sure. But you know the tone he’s using—like this is a game. Like your answer was just an opening for him to show off.

“Interesting insight,” Dr. Yuki says neutrally, though she gives you a small, encouraging glance. “The interaction between temperament and environment is, of course, highly complex and still being studied. You two make a good pair of thinkers. Keep it up.”

Gojo shoots you a wink. You fight the urge to roll your eyes so hard they detach.

The rest of the class breezes by in a blur of academic introductions and syllabus breakdowns. You try to refocus, but Gojo’s presence next to you is like a flickering neon sign. Loud. Distracting. Impossible to ignore. He doesn’t talk again, thankfully, but you can feel his attention flicking toward you now and then, like he’s just waiting for you to snap back.

You don’t give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you copy down the reading list with mechanical precision and pack up your things the moment Dr. Yuki dismisses the class.

“Don’t run away, angel,” Gojo drawls the second you stand. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”

You whirl around so fast your ponytail nearly whips him in the face.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss, your voice low enough that only he can hear. “We’re not eight anymore, and we’re not friends.”

He leans on the desk, utterly unbothered. “Didn’t say we were. Though the chemistry? Still there.”

“Chemistry?” You scoff. “There’s more chemistry between a paperclip and a microwave.”

His grin grows. “Kinky.”

You stare at him.

Gojo Satoru has always had this uncanny ability to derail you with just a few words, like your entire nervous system short-circuits on contact. He knows it too—he drinks it in, like your frustration is the most refreshing thing in the world.

You shoulder your bag and march down the steps toward the door. But before you can make a clean getaway, you hear his footsteps behind you.

“Wait up,” he calls, catching up easily. “Walk me to class?”

You snort. “No.”

“C’mon,” he says, eyes glinting. “For old time’s sake.”

“That’s exactly why I’m saying no.”

He laughs, and it’s that same carefree sound that used to echo across your backyard and down the hallways of your childhood. It used to make you smile without thinking.

Now it just makes you want to punch something soft and expensive.

The two of you step into the hallway, where a rush of students swarm past, their voices echoing off the polished tile floors and high ceilings. The psych building smells like lemon cleaner and overachieving.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he says, falling into step beside you like this is normal. Like he belongs next to you again. “You did miss me, right?”

You blink up at him. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, winking. “It’s embarrassing.”

You stop in the middle of the hallway, making a group of passing undergrads grumble as they sidestep around you.

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he corrects with a shit-eating grin.

You ignore him. “You think this is some kind of joke, don’t you? Like you can just show up after all these years, tease me a little, and we’ll fall back into the same rhythm?”

He tilts his head, mouth still curved like he’s seconds away from another quip. But this time... his eyes shift. Just a little. Like he’s searching your face for something.

“No,” he says. “Not a joke.”

You wait, breath caught somewhere in your throat.

But he says nothing else.

Instead, he leans against a nearby column and lets his eyes wander, like he's suddenly too cool to look at you directly. “You really went all in on psych, huh?”

“I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

“Didn’t say that. Just... impressed.”

You blink. “You’re impressed I’m in grad school?”

“No,” he says, eyes sliding back to yours. “I’m impressed you still argue like you’ve got something to prove.”

The air between you sharpens. You know what he’s really saying. That you’ve always been this way—clawing your way toward perfection, carrying something on your back that he never had to. You’ve always felt like you were running out of time, while he was coasting on endless charm and raw brilliance.

That sting burns down your throat.

You shift your grip on your bag and step away. “Some of us don’t get to coast through life on vibes and daddy’s credit card.”

His eyes flicker. You see it—the flash of something dark, something vulnerable—but then it’s gone. Walled off behind his sunglasses again.

You hate that it makes you feel guilty.

“I’ve got criminology next,” you say, voice clipped.

Gojo straightens up, clearly deciding to let your jab slide. “Still into crime shows, huh? Let me guess. Still think you’re gonna psychoanalyze serial killers and end up on a Netflix docuseries.”

You roll your eyes. “I’d rather end up on Netflix than a Buzzfeed article titled ‘College Clown Dunks on Childhood Best Friend in Lecture.’”

“Catchy title,” he says. “Bet it’d go viral.”

“I’m sure you’d make sure of it.”

You both reach the intersection between halls. He stops first, hands in his pockets, hair catching the sunlight from the tall windows. For a second, he just watches you.

“Hey,” he says, softer now. “I wasn’t trying to ruin your moment in class.”

You blink.

He shrugs. “I was just... trying to talk to you. Y’know. Like the old days.”

You study him. The smirk is still there, but it’s thinner. Like it’s holding back something real. You remember one of the last times you saw him—on that hill, his pinky linked with yours.

You want to hate him.

But you never could.

The apartment smells like sesame oil, soy sauce, and victory.

You and Shoko sit cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by takeout containers and chopsticks like two dragons guarding their hoard. Your laptop is somewhere under the chaos, long forgotten in favor of spring rolls and sweet and sour chicken. The coffee table is a battlefield: orange chicken juice has bled into the napkins, someone definitely spilled chili oil on the remote, and there are at least three fortune cookies smashed open like tiny edible grenades.

“Okay,” Shoko says, waving a dumpling in the air like it’s a gavel, “but hear me out—what if we just quit grad school and open a food truck called Freud and Fries?”

You choke on your lo mein. “What are we serving? Deep-fried childhood trauma?”

“Exactly. Repress it and fry it.” She takes a victorious bite of her dumpling. “Our signature item could be the 'Oedipal Combo Platter.' Comes with mommy issues and a side of existential dread.”

You collapse into giggles, nearly knocking over the hot and sour soup. “We’d go bankrupt from the lawsuits alone.”

Shoko shrugs, unbothered. “Worth it. At least I’d die with some dignity. Or MSG.”

You're both dressed in your laziest pajamas—yours a faded t-shirt with cracked letting that says PSYCH ME UP, paired with polka-dotted pajama pants, and Shoko’s a vintage Hello Kitty set two sizes too big. You both have thick, goopy face masks on—Shoko’s is mint green and smells faintly of cucumbers, and yours is some trendy charcoal detox thing that has turned your face into a matte gray void. You feel like a sexy Halloween ghost.

Shoko sticks a spoon into the pint of fried rice between you and narrows her eyes. “You looked stressed when you came in.”

You grunt in agreement and flop dramatically into the couch cushions. “I had to listen to four different people misquote Piaget in a row during discussion.”

She winces. “Brutal.”

“One of them said children don’t develop object permanence until they’re like, six.”

Shoko looks scandalized. “Six? What do they think babies are? Goldfish?”

“Apparently! I was this close to throwing my textbook across the room like it was a damn Pokéball.”

You mime it, complete with sound effects. Shoko offers a slow, respectful golf clap.

There’s a lull while you both snack, content with the comforting crunch of dumplings and the low hum of your apartment’s ancient heater clanking in the background. The city outside is muffled through the window, its glow filtering through the curtains and casting a sleepy amber hue over your living room.

You exhale, forehead pressed to your palm. “It’s just been... a day, you know? All this talk about childhood trauma and brain development and I’m sitting there thinking, like, damn. Maybe I should’ve been a barista instead.”

Shoko hums thoughtfully. “I think you’d be a menace with a milk frother.”

You grin. “I would be. ‘You want extra foam? How about some extra childhood baggage too?’”

She clinks her glass of wine against your soda can like it’s a toast. “To repression and cappuccinos.”

You lean back into the couch, letting yourself melt into the cushions like overcooked tofu.

“You ever think about how different things felt when we were kids?” you ask, voice quieter now, eyes focused on the ceiling. “Like… how we thought growing up meant knowing everything? Being sure of yourself?”

Shoko looks over at you, her mask starting to crack around the edges.

“Sometimes,” she says. “But I think we also assumed being an adult meant not feeling like a mess all the time.”

You smile faintly. “Remember back in high school when I used to hang out at your house after school and we’d make those horrible microwave brownies?”

Shoko smirks. “You mean the ones we drowned in whipped cream to hide the taste of burned chocolate?”

“Those,” you laugh. “We thought we were culinary geniuses.”

“You also tried to make a ‘trauma-free playlist’ on my iPod that was just ABBA songs.”

“That was a masterpiece.”

“You put ‘Dancing Queen’ on there three times.”

“I was trying to manifest joy!”

You both burst into laughter again, until your cheeks hurt and your stomach aches from all the dumplings and giddy exhaustion.

When the laughter fades, you sit in silence for a moment, face tilted toward the ceiling, your voice thoughtful when you finally say, “We used to dream about what kind of adults we’d be. I thought I’d have it all figured out by now.”

Shoko leans her head against your shoulder.

“I think we are figuring it out. Just slowly. And with worse skincare habits than we expected.”

You sigh. “You know what’s weird? Sitting in class today, talking about how much childhood experiences shape your whole brain—it made me remember things. Like, out of nowhere. Stuff I haven’t thought about in years.”

“Like what?”

You hesitate for a beat. Then: “Like... this kid I used to be close with in elementary school. We were inseparable back then. Always swore we’d stay best friends. He was loud and ridiculous and so sure of himself. I used to think he’d grow up to be famous or something. Or, I don’t know... still be around.”

Shoko doesn’t press you, just gives your knee a nudge with hers.

“You miss him?”

You poke at a leftover dumpling with your chopsticks. “Maybe. Or maybe I just miss how simple everything felt back then. Like the future was some shiny thing we were racing toward together. Now it’s just... this blur of stress and student loans.”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders finally sagging into the couch. “Why does he still get to me? Like—we haven’t been close in years. We’re not friends anymore. So why does he walk into a room and suddenly I’m ten years old again, begging him to pinky promise he’ll still like me when we grow up?”

There it is.

The air shifts just a little.

Shoko doesn’t say anything right away. She wipes the excess mask from the tip of your nose with the cat paw brush before responding.

“Because you’re still mad,” she says gently. “You’re still hurt.”

You don’t answer, eyes fixed on the sesame chicken.

“He was your best friend,” she continues. “And then one day he wasn’t. And instead of giving you closure, he just... popped back into your life with a smirk and perfect teeth and no explanation.”

“God,” you mutter, “his teeth are perfect.”

Shoko hums in agreement.

You chew your lip, hating how true it all is. “It’s not even that he left. I mean, yeah, that sucked. But it’s that he never said why. We just drifted. He got popular, got loud. And when I asked what was going on, he just gave me that stupid grin and said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Angel.’”

You blink hard.

“I’m still worrying about it.”

Shoko leans her head against your shoulder. “That’s because you never stopped caring.”

Shoko holds up a fortune cookie like a priest offering a blessing. “Here. This will cure your existential dread.”

You crack it open and read the tiny slip aloud: "You will soon receive the answer you’ve been seeking."

You both stare at it.

Then you deadpan, “If this thing is talking about my psych midterm, it’s a liar.”

Shoko snorts and tosses the fortune at the coffee table. “I hope the answer is Chinese food leftovers for breakfast.”

You grin. “We’re the smartest people in this program.”

As you both settle into the warmth of the couch, surrounded by the crumbs of your feast and the peeling bits of face mask flaking onto your pajama shirts, it strikes you just how much you needed this.

A quiet night. A stupid, cozy night.

No academic pressure. No pretending to be fine. No thinking too hard about people you used to know or feelings you’re still untangling.

Just you. Shoko. And six kinds of chicken.

Honestly? Not a bad way to grow up after all.

[prinz-myshkin]

Hello! I love your art! I am starting to get back into art after many years, and wanted to animate it. What app do you use to animate things? Do you have any recommendations how to get started? Thank you!

Hey thanks so much! I use a program called Krita, it's free, it's great, it's got the basics of frame animation which is all I really care about. I guess my best advice is that whenever you start an animation project you might benefit from starting simple and adding complexity later. Animation gets frustrating fast whenever something is off and it gets tricky to fix or "get right" when it's in the context of all the frames surrounding it. In my fish loops I started with drawing a ball that stretched and flattened as it moved around and then went over it and added eyes, fins etc. to fit the movement. I think I would have gotten frustrated if I started with a whole complex shape and wouldn't have known where to go next. It's a muscle though and gets easier as you do it.

Pretty much everyone getting into animation I think finds this ancient series of chronophotographs by Eadweard Muybridge showing a horse in motion

It's great and a cool bit of photography history, and I made an exercise of it to try and copy it when I wanted to get into animation. I felt it helped me make sense of what is important in making an image move in a fluid way. It's a fun and not too daunting task, you might want to try it yourself.

Tilting at windmills

Also, if you just animate the bottom half of the horse you won't have to do as much work, so you should do that

As for the program itself, you can make layers static or add keyframes to them to make stuff happen, click window > animation to change the screen to access that part. Make a drawing, hit next frame and turn on onionskin so you can see where you were the frame before

The krita forums are also really helpful if anything technical goes wrong

Hope this helps! And also wasn't too much or too little information :)

[sirfrogsworth]

Whenever I see an up-and-coming Youtuber I notice they often make the same mistake. When the time comes to increase production quality, the absolute first thing you should do is invest in improving your sound. Not the camera or the lens or lighting or set design. Audio quality trumps all of that. People being able to understand what you are communicating should always be the highest priority.

And the cool part is you can do this with a cheap lav mic. There are some that can just plug right into your phone. The next priority is learning how to set levels and make sure your voice isn't distorting from being too loud. You can even record a little quiet and bump up the levels later on. But if you record too loud to begin with, you can't fix that.

After that you can "treat" your room. Which just involves controlling echo and reverb. Foam acoustic panels are expensive and not necessary. You can do the same thing by just filling your room with stuff. Furniture, books, blankets, pillows. You want to eliminate large flat surfaces. If the sound has to bounce around on 20 different surfaces before it comes back to your microphone, it will have much less energy.

You can also figure out which wall is the biggest echo offender and hang a couple of heavy blankets in front of it. If you can score those moving blankets on the cheap, those work great. And if you can put a gap in between the blankets that will further reduce echo/reverb. You don't have to cover the entire wall, just the main area in front of where you are speaking. If you can reduce that very first reflection, the sound will have much less energy to bounce off other surfaces.

All that said, sometimes people will go overboard with sound and buy that giant phallic SM7B dynamic microphone. I see those things everywhere. Yes, Michael Jackson used it and it does sound great. But with so many quality USB mics that plug straight into your computer, it is a huge hassle and really overkill unless you just enjoy audio tech and want a cool toy. The SM7B requires extra equipment to make it sound good. It's XLR so you need a special interface. And most people add a "cloudlifter" because it isn't very sensitive and can be really quiet without it. Plus, dynamic mics need to be super close to your mouth and I think covering half your face with a giant mic isn't the best visual. There are lav mics in a wide spectrum of price ranges that can be hidden and sound great. Or you can do a shotgun mic like they use in movies. It can be hidden offscreen and pick up your voice from a distance.

Big dynamic mics are great for people with baritone voices. If you are James Earl Jones and you want to show off your voice, the SM7B or something similar makes more sense. Beyond that, most of your viewers just want clarity. Good room treatment and a $30 lav mic can achieve that pretty well. And if you watch a few tutorials on how to EQ and process audio, you can do a lot to make a cheaper microphone sound great. Reaper is a wonderful audio program with professional features and a reasonable price.

TLDR... fix your sound first!

[levissslutt]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕣 | 𝕋. 𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠

Maya is the daughter and the only child of the infamous gang leader and hitman Suguru Geto. She had started her second semester as a third year college student, but for the past year, shed been dreaming of this mystery man, tall, daunting, and dangerous. Every morning shed wake to an uneasy feeling, as if the dreams meant so much more. Walking into class, she sees him, and does shit take a wild turn.

𝕄𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕕𝕒𝕪

Today was the day. College move in day. You weren't nervous just yet, but you were definitely anxious. Spending the summer in California for your internship through the LAPD really was amazing.

You got to attend a few sit ins with the Chief of police speaking on highly classified topics, you went on 5 ride alongs with officers in the program and one of them lead to a high speed chase that ended in unfortunate circumstances, but anyways adjusting back to the east coast was a pain in the ass. Especially because of the weather, God it was hot.

Sulking against the car your uncle put the last of your crap in the car. Turning to face you,

"Will you relax, it's not that hot". He says as he sees you fanning yourself with your shirt.

"My tits are crying".

He just shook his head and chuckled and told you to pose for a picture. He was that family member, the one that had to capture every little moment, you couldn't be even slightly irritated by this trait of his, simply because of how adorable it was. Your dad was away on a “business trip” and couldn't join you. You weren't mad at him just mad at the situation. He always tries to plan ahead, but like they say, shit happens.

Your dad runs a huge enterprise, you aren't even allowed to tell people your dads name or the name of said company, yea, that kind of business. Let's just say, you were a trust fund baby.

"Can we get breakfast on the way?". You asked your uncle. He nodded in agreement. You had gotten lost in the thought of your dad and where he could be and if he was safe. So many questions raced through your mind as you tried to slow down the pace of your thoughts. No good in overthinking.

You, your dad and your uncle were extremely close because it's always just been the three of you. Your uncle that was with you at the moment isn't even your real uncle, but you consider him to be because him and your dad are besties. He literally helped raised you. He's one of those friends everybody needs in their life.

Your mom and dad were the original bestie duo, but she passed giving birth to you, hence why your “uncle” stepped up. The older You got you heard more and more things about your parents and how in love they were and how hard it fucked your dad up. He hasn’t remarried or dated, hell youve never even seen him sneaking somebody in or out the house.

 There was always this nagging thought in your head that because of the kind of work they do you could lose them with no warning. And that haunted you.

---

Finally you made it to the campus. You were required to get your student ID card to be let into your dorm. Fortunately you had a room to yourself . You stepped in and admired the space. It was beautiful, very open. You had 6 huge windows facing the trees. Thank god you could see the cities outline through the trees, and you werent just looking into some ominous ass shadows.

The windows also had those cool remote control black out blinds. A full size cushy bed took up the left corner of the room. And to the right was a vanity styled desk. It was cute and you couldnt appreciate it more, cause lord knows you've seen some fucked up dorms.

After bringing all your stuff into the dorm you and your uncle got the room settled to your liking and after doing so, y’all headed to Walmart to get last minute items and groceries. 

The car ride was a comfortable silent with the radio playing as background noise, the older man new you would never admit it to him or yourself but he knew you were a little nervous about being away from home.

As you pulled up to the store you stepped out and head inside quickly grabbing the last bit of items and snacks you needed to complete your room and headed to the checkout area. As you were standing in like you felt a pair of eyes on you, you glanced up and caught the eye of a women practically drooling on herself.

"Gojo that lady is staring at you.” As the two of you waited in line to check out there was an older women, mid forties staring right at him with no shame.

He only chuckled and looked away , that was common for the two of them, him and your dad were objectively attractive people, and you didn’t mean that in no weird creepy ass incest way, just something you’ve had to acknowledge growing up from them constantly receiving attention from women.

In all honesty you were a little jealous.

---

It is now second semester and you're on your way to the schools cafe with a close friend you've made over the past few months, Ashanti.

"Are you excited about our new classes?" She says.

"Hell yea I only have one in person class since the outbreak of positive cases, and it's my Forensic Science class, I hope my teacher is cool."

Something is in the air and a lot of the students on campus have been traveling back and forth abroad through your schools work study program, and every last one of them come back sick as fuck. 

Shanti stops and looks at you after she realizes what you said, in disbelief. "Girl what, you only have one in person class?"

You laughed and nodded, "Lucky me". After y'all get your food, you part ways and head back to your rooms for the night. "Goodnight!", you say as she waves back.

---

You woke up in the middle of the night, sweating, chest rising and falling. You had another dream about that man. You had no idea who he was, but he's been in your dreams almost every night for the past 10 months . You actually started to sketch how he looked in case you forgot. Truth be told you could never forget him.

The dreams varied, sometimes you’d be by yourself and can see him passing by a window or he’d be the sever at a restaurant, or the quiet stranger on a train, a side character basically, in in the other dreams you’d be together whether it was literally or physically. Regardless every single time you’d see him in your dreams no matter the setting or the characters, he’d turn his head and wink at you. Every. Single. Time.

What the actual fuck does that even mean.

He was so mesmerizing too, from the scar on his lip, to his height, to his body, to his eyes, my god his eyes were so pretty. Can you fall in love with someone you don't even know exists?  You didn't know, but it's sure happening right now. You slipped out of bed to take another shower to help you relax. By the time you finished the alarm goes off for class. You did your morning routine and got dressed.

You and Ashanti met up and walked to class together.

"It's finally starting to cool off" Shanti says. 

"Im glad, it was so fucking hot, had us out here sweating like runaway slaves".

Shanti threw her head back laughing at my comment.

The two of you headed into the building. Easily finding your class since you have become more familiar with the campus.

You were chatting with Shanti as you walked into the class.

"You girls are early."

Ashanti was in front of you as she spoke so you didn’t see him at first. " Yea we wanted to be a little bit early for the first day, if you don't mind".

The man chuckles a deep chuckle that you felt in your bones. 

"Of course not, have a seat", he says.

As you took your seat you finally got a good look at the man that was speaking." No fucking way'', you breathed out. He locked eyes with you and gave you the most intense look you'd ever seen. His expression was unreadable.

Your face goes pale, and your heart stops. Head spinning in shock. Thats him, thats the man you've been seeing in your dreams. Your mouth opened to say something, anything, but it goes dry. He's still staring at you. Those damn eyes. He got up from his desk at the front of the classroom and made his way up to the row you were sitting on.

"May I speak to you in the hallway?" You nod and slowly get up.

Shanti glances in the direction of the two of you but ultimately pulls her attention back to the book she was reading.

What on gods green earth could he possibly want.

Walking behind him you could see the muscles in his back move with every step. Once you reached the entrance of the classroom with the mystery dream man, you just stood there. You weren't scared just in complete and utter shock. He is still looking at you with that same intense glare. "I- um, did I do something wrong sir ?"

His eyes softened a bit as you looked up to meet his emerald green eyes. "You’re Getos kid, right?" You continued to stare at the man that is towering over you. After a few seconds you snap out of whatever the fuck that was and finally realize what he just asked you. Your facial expression serious and stern. "I don't know what you're talking about".

"He told me his girl was smart, but you really don't recognize me?"

You blinked a few times, not understanding the situation. "Huh?"

"Im Toji Fushiguro", he says and your eyes go wide.

The face may only be memorable from your dreams, but that name.

 You had assumed the man was telling the truth, because that name held weight and not just anybody knew it, especially not at this pristine ass school. "Prove i- " and before you could finish the last syllable he flashed his tags at you. The tags with his initials engraved onto them.

Holy shit.

No fucking way where you standing face to face with your dads right hand man, and another mind fuck was why on earth where you dreaming about the man, you had so many questions, but before you could get another word out the piercing sound of the bell fills the air, indicating you had 5 minutes to get your ass to class.

"Just stay after I don't have a class after this we can talk and I'll explain why I'm here."

You nodded, turning on your heel leading the man back inside, and took your seat back next to Ashanti. "You ok?, you're pale as a ghost". "Yea Im fine, I just forgot to eat breakfast."

You didn't hear a word of that 90 minute lecture.

Class ended and you stayed behind. You told Ashanti that you'll meet her at the dining hall. You hesitantly walk down the steps to the front of the room where he is seated behind his desk. During the duration of the class you had finally calmed down enough to form actual sentences, hence why you didn't hear a word he said.

You played with the hem of your skirt. You weren't nervous,  just had absolutely no idea what the hell to do with yourself. You met his eyes again. This time he looked amused. " I cant believe you're real kid".

You chuckled a bit, "I am 21 years old and what do you mean you can’t believe I’m real.”

As if you weren’t the one having dreams about this man.

"Well I'm 40 pretty girl, so in my eyes you are still a kid, and just simply cause I’ve never met you before, I’ve seen pictures and obviously he talks about you all the time." You breathe out a whistle, "You're old, you don't even look 40". His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Well thank you". “Well if you knew I was real the hell did you mean by that.” He flashes a big smile and shakes his head “ I just meant it in a way that I feel old I guess.” He seems to get a little hesitant, but nonetheless he still asks.

“Would you like to come back to my place tonight?"

Without missing a beat you asked if he is going to kill you. This time his laugh fills the room. "No sweetheart I just had time to think during the lecture, you seemed to have missed and I don't think this is a good place to talk."

You snort at that comment, " Well can you blame me, but sure i'll come, but are we even allowed to be meeting up like this?"

He smiles "well let's hope no one finds out ."

Even though you just found out this man works with your dad, a student teacher relationship is still forbidden and could look suspicious if you got caught .

You are not sure why, but you felt like you have known him for a while now, like y'all are old friends. You knew that normally you shouldn't trust people that easily, but nothing about him alarmed you in any way. And that is saying a lot considering how big and intimidating he is. You gave him your number and left.

Taglist: @msklassickilla

[astriiformes]

2024 has been a weird year. Surprisingly stable, personally, despite everything that's been going on in the world. I got to do some very cool stuff (going to see the solar eclipse at totality, finally catching the Back to the Future musical after all this time), but I also struggled with a lot of things -- my imposter syndrome, my executive dysfunction and neurodivergence, my brain in general. It's been a learning experience, realizing what normal looks like and how I can meet the challenges that get thrown my way.

In a lot of ways, this year has felt like a prelude to the many big, exciting, and/or scary things that are set to happen next year -- I'll be finding out if I got into any PhD programs, I'll be getting married, I'll finally (finally!!) be graduating from college. We might have to move, which is terrifying, and the world doesn't look like it will be getting any better or easier without a whole lot of work, which is even scarier. But as far as the ebb and flow of time goes, I think I set myself up for if not immediate success, still some good things. We'll see, I suppose. That's all you can really do.

Here's to another year of seeing each other through the rough stuff and celebrating joy where we can find it.

[tofupixel]

Hi! I really like your art, and it inspired me to get into pixel art myself. I know you already posted about how to start making pixel art, and that tutorial was very helpful, but do you have any advice? I see all your art and I can’t help but wonder the process.

hello, first of all thats very cool and sweet, i hope u will continue and thank you for telling me

as for the question hmmmmmmm

its very hard to answer because i don't know where you are at in your journey or what your goals are but

i just finished a piece for artfight and made a timelapse gif which may help you understand my process if you are interested in that (even tho its a more simple piece) (sorry for flipping canvas sm)

this is the character btw. some things that i think are important:

getting stuff on the canvas even if it looks shit (my sketch phase is FUGLY) but its digital art so we can just make it look better and move stuff around. its literally not a big deal

flip a LOT (flipping lets u see ur mistakes easier) (it might hurt your soul at first but eventually you get used to it) (reaching full artistic ego death is the end goal)

i dont have a strong minds eye so i cant visualize my piece very well so i just try things, you will notice i try different poses and expressions

what i rly care about is mood and conveying some emotion and i'll try lots of things until i get what i want. once its on the canvas i can evaluate how that works for me. if it looks bad JUST CHANGE IT !!!! 😤👍

GET LOTS OF REFERENCES !! when i got just 1 ref i ended up copying it too closely, but you can get a bunch and combine them together. that log in the foreground i stole that from princess mononoke. take elements from stuff nobody will miss it

for beginner advice i think, just draw a LOT and try not to get sucked into the details for too long. u can learn a lot by just doing a ton of throwaway stuff. rendering is important for sure but it can TAKE A LONG TIME so just be aware of what youre spending your time doing

and PLEASE look at other pixel artists who are really good. take their art into your program and look at it and study it, see what they are doing. its not cheating we have all done it.

look on pixeljoint for pros!!

[occasionallyprosie-mc]

MyStreet Headcanons (pt. 1)

Aphmau & Aaron / Katelyn & Travis / Cadenza & Laurance / Garroth & Zane & Vylad

AKA- How I make their PDH/MS actually reflect their MCD equivalents & how I lessen the questionable aspects

btw this is congruent with a MyStreet/MCD rewrite I have floating in my head and am slowly penning :)

Aphmau

(As someone who was homeschooled and then moved to public schooling later in like, I feel appropriately qualified to discuss this)

She was held back a year due to anti-Homeschool stuff but was supposed to enter PDH as a sophomore/is the age of a sophomore

Slyvanna got caught up in working so they could move to Phoenix Drop for the good school system, and then the chaos of house hunting and moving

As a result, Aph never took the 9th grade standardized test

Thus, she enters PDH as a freshman and is forced to repeat her classes

This is also why her and Garroth were best friends as little kids, they are the same age

By MS, she works security at an arcade but because of the high fatality rate she makes insane money (call back to her FNAF series; it might be her canon job?)

Because she’s been there for a couple years now & hasn't died, they can’t afford to lose her

Is naturally a great leader but ask her a leadership question and the crickets are chirping

Or she says “I’m just nice to them wdym ‘How do you make them listen’??”

She Knows things

"What do you think Vylad's up to?" "Oh he's in France." "Cool!"

Everyone assumes she's just still in contact with everyone or keeping up with their socials

She isn't

Sure she's still in contact with a lot of people, but not to the point that she knows where they are and what they're up to at all times

She Just Knows

Comes from being the MS equivalent of God, and also the self-insert of the creator of the story

She is unnaturally good at video games, it’s how she and Aaron met

They joke that yeah, Aaron totally carried her, the reality is she carried him

Dated Zoey after FC/before MS and still gets Christmas cards of her and her two baby brothers

If I remember PDH right, her and Aaron take care of a neighbor's baby (Lilith Garnet I think)?

Nope, instead, they do a 'Fledgling Program' in high school where juniors/seniors adopt either a sophomore/freshman or a middle schooler

Either way, Aphmau's fledgling is a girl named LG (Lilith Garnet) who's an outspoken, bright, sassy girl with a little sister she adores (Alina) but loves loves loves to tease

Dante is her (adoptive) twin

They do a survivalist thing in college together, get lost in a snowy forest, and now they call each other twins

Same birthday as Dante, like year/month/day are the exact same they were just born hours apart (partial reason for twin thing)

She refuses to do couples costumes with Aaron on Halloween because her and Dante are doing a costume together

Aphmau 100% cannot swim because Sylvanna tried to teach her when she was little and got scared of her baby drowning so she keeps Aphmau away from pools from then on

She is a 10/10 skater though, it's the only sport-y thing she can do

ice skating, roller-skates and rollerblades, skateboards, scooters, all of that

She can do spins and kick flips easily, but she's hopeless in other sports

Ask her to kick a ball straight, and yeah it's straight, just to her left and not forward at the net

Has kicked a ball behind her

She tries to teach Zane how to skateboard and he kicks the skateboard into her face (they don't go to the skate park together again)

Is genuinely so smart, absorbs information like a sponge and will infodump whatever obscure thing she's learned on you if you're quiet for 0.2 seconds too long

Aaron

Not super senior, just regular senior

He skipped a grade in school

He transfers into PDH at like 16-17ish

By age/when he was born in the year, he should've been a junior

Derek makes him skip a grade because he doesn't like Aaron being at a public high school

He's like two years younger than Melissa

Anyone who's seen JJK -- Aaron and Melissa are the Fushiguro siblings

In middle school, Aaron's always angry and always getting into fights

He has a sense of righteousness and he will inflict it on others whether they like it or not

This travels through high school and into adulthood, but he's better at restraining himself as an adult

Is good at video games but Aphmau consistently beats him

It's half of what why he fell in love with her after learning Shu = Aph

Tried to tear out his eyes once after PDH S2, Melissa caught him and stopped him

It's why he wears his blindfold in GD and FC

He doesn't wear a blindfold in MS at all (until Emerald Secret)

Instead he works between PDH and MS to control his eyes with a motivation he lacked as a kid

Does boxing and gets Katelyn into it

They fight a lot but its like spars so they're chill

Bonds with Garroth during LLP and starts being dragged into his shenanigans without escape

Zane unsettles him, for no good reason, he tries very hard to make friends bc he's Aphmau's best friend and Aaron is consciously aware of the person Zane is

But he still feels some underlying hatred toward him and it does not make sense

He originally thinks its jealousy, but then they talk at the end of S1, and he's trying so hard to tamp it down but it's always just there in the very back of his mind

Works as a dog trainer; loves it but Derek hates it

Volunteers at the same puppy hospital as Travis

Their coworkers make fun of his last name (Lycan) and the fact that he works with dogs

The running joke is that Aaron is actually one of the dogs turned human and he's there to break them all out

Travis will reference this when they're not at work and they both refuse to elaborate

During Starlight, Aaron frequently leaves his and Aphmau's room to go to Melissa's and just sits on the floor by her bed

Most of the time, Melissa will wake up tell him just get in the bed or find a couch

It's because of nightmares

Before Aphmau, Melissa was the one who helped him control the whole Ultima thing, so he always turns to her on instinct for help or comfort

Goes to therapy at some point between FCU and MS, Dottie is his therapist and she's amazing at it

She also doesn't let Derek pay her under the table to tell him how Aaron's doing with control, unlike Aaron's past therapists

He and Aphmau are the "He fell first, she fell harder" couple but a little skewed

He fell in love with her in PDH, she fell in love too but when they broke up in PDH S2, Aaron never gets over her and Aphmau learns to

By MS S1, he's still in love, but she's convinced herself it was puppy love like high school sweethearts usually are

She gets hit with a truck that says "you still love him" at some point in S1

Aaron dated Lily (MCD!Aaron's wife) in FCU to try and get over Aphmau, it doesn't work and Lily can tell, she breaks it off with him because she knows she deserves better

Is the most mentally stable of the mentally unstable group while also being the most mentally unstable

His mental stability is an extremely solid skyscraper on top some dry spaghetti noodles

Aaron's the age of a junior but he's a senior, Aphmau's the age of a sophomore but she's a freshman.

I understand that Jess made the age gap as it was to reflect hers and Jason's, but Aphmau and Aaron are in a diff situation. You're can't really lie about their ages when you're in school together.