#it probably didn't WHOOPS

[terminaxshowtime]

this is the stupidest question you've ever been asked but how do you analyse music?

aight, well, i don't do anything professionally or anything, all just for fun. usually i focus on the techniques of the music, or certain elements that it has. i was actually taught how to analyze music elements and techniques in class, mainly with identifying structure, rhythms, melody (eg. intervals), harmony/tonality (eg. cadences), and timbre. if i'm just analyzing music for fun, sometimes i'll pick it up by ear and be like 'oh, that's __ cadence, this is fitting for the song because it creates __ effect' or something along those lines. some of them are pretty obvious- like with rhythms, or repetition. for the ones i'm super interested and have to go in-depth to, usually i'll head over to, say, Musescore, search up the sheet music, and try to figure out some of the cadences and intervals myself. if i really want to go deep, i can check out these and associate them with other common uses of the sequences or whatnot, and just kinda make my own personal conclusions as to what the composer was trying to do when they made this. it's always about the messages they're trying to send and whatnot, or sometimes the message is just 'have fun!!!' or keeping the listeners not bored out of their mind.

for analysing music as part of, say, a soundtrack (in my opinion, the best to analyse) i'll focus a bit more on the actual compositional devices. mainly leitmotifs and instrumentation (similar to timbre), because those features can help you understand the story and character of the song. with these, i kind of just pick them up even the first time that i hear it. like, if i recognise a certain pattern, i usually associate it pretty quickly, then i narrow it down to some kinda reason as to why the composer might have done this. it's all connected!!

and if the song i'm analysing has lyrics (rare) i just use the typical English writing analysing techniques on it. with the exception of where certain words would be emphasised through certain chords or cadences in the harmony giving it a different meaning, or as an ornament, in which case i could pack the lyrics together with the musical elements and then analyse it further. so that's a cool thing that i like doing.

i also find that the more diverse a piece, the more interesting and fun it is to analyze, and to an extent, listen to. i think my favourite thing to listen to and analyze would be things with contrast, a lot of range, just something that makes it sound super captivating. which i often find video game ost to have. i highly recommend ost from Kirby games personally ;)

oh, and the stuff i WASN'T taught. okay, so I actually use DAWs and make music myself. i don't post it because i'm self conscious and don't think it's THAT good, but it's probably fine. it's mainly through my own experience through using DAWs that I can figure out what kind of techniques the composers are using for songwriting, mainly through mixing and audio effects- the classic reverb, overdrives, EQs, panning- all my knowledge and ability to judge these comes from my OWN personal experiences with making music and therefore being able to recognise the techniques when i listen. then i can figure out the effect that this technique has and analyse the song and all. so that's the part that was SELF-taught from myself, really.

but anyway. if that didn't answer your question, whoops. i was mainly taught to do a specific type of analysing, and yeah i can analyse it outside of just these techniques- vibes work just fine- but it's kind of hard to explain. 90% of it comes from having knowledge of what the features and effects are, plus my own personal experiences help. i think after you can recognise and NAME the features and techniques, then it's much easier to figure out what the composer was thinking when they made it (ie analyse it.)

erm i rambled way too much. wow. hope this helped???

[riverswater]

Genuinely crying at work rn. They have thousands of old photos (from the 50s to the 90s) they asked me to scan (so they can create a digital archive). Today I found a photo from a 80s protest with a banner that says "FOR THE PALESTINIAN CHILDREN". It's been 40 years. It has been a lot more than that, actually. And still.

[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets - Part 1

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!

A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?

next part

__

She was perfectly happy. 

Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t. 

Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one. 

In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing. 

No matter. 

A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either. 

“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.

“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season. 

“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”

“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”

“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”

“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”

“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”

“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”

“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”

(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”

“My lady!”

“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”

“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”

“Dreadful.”

“It is expected,” Meg repeated.

“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”

—

Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned. 

Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey. 

It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.

“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out. 

“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”

“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”

“You are out of mourning.”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.

“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”

“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”

“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”

“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”

“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”

“Like a drunkard?”

“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”

“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”

“I am not Lady Danbury.”

“You are not.”

“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”

“Are you insinuating you are not?”

“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.

Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”

“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”

“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled. 

—

Dearest Gentle Reader,

The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be. 

Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening. 

His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up. 

While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand. 

Good show, Lady Barlow. 

Lady Whistledown Society Papers

—

“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular. 

“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”

“Er, yes, however—”

“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned. 

“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked. 

“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising. 

“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”

“No.”

“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.

“Oh, according to Whistledown—”

“Sister—”

“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”

“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”

“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten. 

“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked. 

“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”

“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”

“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”

Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was. 

Apparently he was going to the park.

It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.

“Unbelievable.”

He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.

“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”

“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”

“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”

“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”

“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”

“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”

“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”

“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.

“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”

“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”

She scowled. “You are not amusing.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”

A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell. 

“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.

“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”

“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”

While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on. 

Stubborn. Both of them.

“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—” 

“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”

“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”

“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.

“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”

She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”

“Neither am I.”

“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.

“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”

“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”

“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."

“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”

“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”

“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”

“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”

“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”

“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang. 

“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”

Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”

(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.

“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Why you little…!”

She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.

“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.

Perhaps he would burn it.

Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.

In the pocket it went. For now.

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[thecursedanon]

Amusement Park Shenanigans

Alternate title: Never agree to go to an amusement park w/ Gojo. Characters: Switch!Yuji, Lee!Nanami(technically switch!Nanami, but only briefly.) Ler!Gojo, Megumi, Nobara. (brief mentions of Shoko, Suguru and Haibara.) Genre: Fluff (also some hurt/comfort if you squint enough at certain points) Word count: 6388 Description: Gojo decides to take the students to the amusement park, and drags a very unwilling Nanami along with them... after trying to failing to convince Gojo to let him leave, and one too many grumpy remarks from Nanami, Gojo decides to do what Gojo does best... cause absolute chaos. Part 2: (click here)

It was a comfortable day, the weather was beginning to cool down as they just entered into fall. The leaves began to change into varying shades of amber or red, and everyone seemed a bit more light and cheerful at the beauty of the changing season.

Well… not quite everyone… 

You may not be very light or cheerful if you were stuck at an amusement park chaperoning a gaggle of students.

“Can we leave now?”

“Aw come on, Nanami,” Gojo pouted. “Lighten up! We're at an amusement park, you mean to tell me you're not having any fun?”

Or if you were Kento Nanami.

“Not in the slightest.” He retorted, still unsure just how he ended up accompanying them to begin with. It’s entirely possible Satoru had suggested he tag along and rather than argue with him, which would require paying attention, he half listened and just agreed to whatever childish assertion he had made. 

Satoru grinned at his friend’s discontentment. “Where's your sense of childlike adventure and amazement?? Just look at Yuji, he's having fun.”

The white haired teacher gestured to Yuji, who was currently stumbling around the park like a baby giraffe learning to walk, evidently dizzy from one too many go-arounds on the rollercoaster they just returned from.

They had stopped in an out of the way area of the park so that the boy could recover… which evidently wasn’t going well.

The pink haired teen eventually lost his fight with gravity and fell over, if this had been a cartoon you probably could have seen stars circling around his head.

“See? Childlike amazement.”

Yuji gave a grin to the others, a dazed look on his face. “I'm having so much fun!! Just tell me when the ride is over!”

Nanami gives the boy a silent look of concern as he sighs. 

“Alright alright, take five, ya finger eating freak.” Gojo laughed and bent down to pat the pinkette on the head. “But hey, don't just take Itadori’s word for it--” Suddenly Gojo was beside Nanami, whispering to him. “Because the kid is a little… strange.”

The next moment, Gojo was beside Megumi, who had a bright pink sakura flower balloon tied to his wrist and looked as though he was being held there against his will. “Megumi, you're having fun with your beloved sensei's, right?”

Megumi grunted in annoyance. “Somehow this is worse than that time you rented a bouncy house when I was ten…”

“Hey, kids love bouncy houses!” Gojo argued.

“Too bad it wasn't for them.” The edgy teen sighed, recalling what was apparently a painful memory for him.

Satoru pouted, pinching his emo son’s side, producing an uncharacteristic yip from the boy. “You can't argue that it wasn't a totally fun Friday night!”

“Fine… allow me to rephrase my question.” Nanami readjusted his sunglasses with a sigh, not bothering to cover up his annoyance with being dragged to a place full of people on one of his mythical days off. “Can I leave now?”

“Haaaah?? Why would you want to leave???” Gojo reacted as though he'd just witnessed a terrible accident in slow motion… kind of like Megumi recalling the bounce house incident . “This is family bonding day! And last time I checked you're still part of this family-- whether you like it or not!!” he quickly added at the end, sensing Nanami was about to deny it.

Nanami glanced at the group of kids they were chaperoning. “You know I hate amusement parks.” He said, this time quieter so only Satoru could hear him.

Gojo blinked in confusion from behind his sunglasses as he tried to pull a lost sequence from his memory. Did he know that? Now that he mentions it… he did recall something about an amusement park… but what?

While Satoru was silent (for once), Nanami took this as his chance to really try to convince him. “And besides… I doubt the kids would even notice I'm gone.”

Satoru stared blankly at the blonde, still attempting to force the two remaining neurons that weren’t focused on being a menace to spark the memory that was just evading his grasp… Can you hear the dial up tone?

“Hey… that’s not true!” Yuji interjected, pulling himself together as he stumbled towards his father figure. “I’d notice you were gone.”

Nanami’s face softened as he looked at Yuji. “Itadori… wouldn’t you have more fun running around with your friends? I’ll just slow you all down.” he responded, his tone less harsh than before.

“No way, I won’t have nearly as much fun without you here.” He frowned, hitting Nanami with one of the classics… the puppy dog eyes. (dun dun dunnnn)

“Y-Yuji.” Kento warned, shifting his gaze uncomfortably away from his student but no matter where he looked there Yuji was… leaning more and more into the act.

“OH! I remember now!” Gojo said suddenly, inadvertently startling Yuji and causing him to fall over, evidently still not fully recovered from all the roller coaster rides.

Nanami flinched inwardly as Gojo leaned closer to him. “What?”

“Come on, Kento… how can you say no to that sweet boy? He looks like he’s about to cry…” The chaotic teacher cooed at Yuji as he resumed his puppy dog eyes… from his new spot sitting on the ground.

Nanami huffed, turning away again as he crossed his arms. “Itadori… Just because that works on Megumi and Gojo doesn’t mean it’s going to work on me..”

“How hurtful! I think you owe us an apology for being so grumpy…” Satoru mused, winking at Yuji as if to tell him to follow his lead.

“I am not apologizing to you…” Kento grumbled, briefly shooting a glare to the white haired man.

“No? Be reeeeeally sure about that before you respond.” Gojo warned the blonde teacher.

“I said no.”

Satoru sighed softly with an almost threatening grin on his face, slowly slipping his sunglasses off and attaching them to his shirt collar. “I didn’t want to do this… but you leave me no choice.”

Nanami scoffed and turned back around to face him, upon locking eyes with the older man, he felt a familiar wave of panic flood over him. “Satoru…” Panic he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Gojo grinned even more as he rolled up his sleeves, approaching him slowly. “Yes, Kento?”

“Wh-What are you doing…?”

Kento mentally swore at himself for backing away from Satoru, he should be standing his ground right now… but that look… he recognized that look a little too well. And he didn't like it… (or did he?)

“Well, since you’re being such a grump I figured I’d fix your attitude for you.” Gojo hummed, a predatory glimmer in his eyes as he began to close the gap between them, raising his hands. “A few pokes here, a few squeezes there… and a whole bunch of tickles right there and voila! Good as new! One happy giggly Nanami ready to spend time with us without much complaint!”

Nanami’s eyes widened as he felt the color drain from his face. “Satoru… I will end you if you do this in front of the students.” he hissed as he began to back away again.

“What students? They’ve all scampered off… well, except for that kiddo right there.”

As if on cue, Itadori hooked his arms around Nanami from behind, grinning at the soft gasp he received. “What's wrong, Sensei? You look a little nervous…” the teen grinned.

“Itadori,” Nanami struggled in his hold to no avail, Yuji was using all of his strength to contain the stoic teacher in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides to stop him from breaking free. “if you don't let me go right now, so help me…”

“Threatening the students now, Nanami??” Gojo gasped melodramatically, slowly reaching his hands forward towards his squirming torso. “I'm shocked! Now I really have no choice but to adjust your attitude~”

Kento paused, his eyes catching sight of the slightly wiggling fingers that were inching closer. He felt another wave of panic rush over him, but attempted to not let it show, steeling his face as he forced himself to look away from Satoru. “Yuji… please let me go. I'm sorry for upsetting you.” He tried his hand at reasoning with the student as a last resort.

Unfortunately, he didn't receive any support there either. Yuji smiled, angling his head upwards to rest his chin on the back of Nanami’s shoulder. “There's no need to be sorry… I know crowds aren't really your scene.” He sympathized. “But… I did mean what I said. I do want you here… so I'm sorry for ambushing you like this.”

“Oh, so you can apologize to him, but not me??”

“Of course I can, I actually care about him.” Nanami retorted dryly, despite his impending doom.

Satoru gasped, his eyes dancing with amusement. He leaned in closer, speaking in a quieter tone. “You know, Nanami… if you wanted to be smothered with tickles so badly, all you had to do was ask~”

Satoru leaned back, allowing his teasing words to sink in for full effect before cracking his knuckles dramatically. “Alright Itadori, make sure to hold him niiiice and still for me, okay? Our dear sweet Nanami here turns into a wiggle-worm when he gets laughing.” he grinned as Yuji nodded in support, tightening his arms around him, but not so much so that it caused him any real discomfort.

“Both of you… this is ridiculous.” Nanami sighed, hoping if he didn't give the reaction he was looking for hoping that he'd grow bored quickly and go back to whining… as much as Kento hated his incessant whining. “Can you both stop being so chi--” he promptly stopped mid sentence as he felt Satoru grab his sides, lightly fluttering his grip.

“I'm sorry, what was that Nanami?” Gojo grinned. “I didn't quite catch that… what should we stop being?”

Kento took a subtle steadying breath, locking eyes with his tormenter with a blank look on his face. He didn't even dare to so much as flinch when Gojo touched him.

“As I was saying… can you both stop being so childish?” He answered calmly, outwardly unfazed by the maddeningly light teasing touches Satoru was administering to his sides.

Inwardly though… he was struggling to maintain his composure, trying desperately not to show any signs of weakness despite how god awfully, completely and utterly ticklish it felt... 

“Childish? Nanami… there's nothing wrong with a little tickling, It serves as a great bonding experience!” Satoru said cheerfully, leaning in closer to tease the blonde. “Especially when you're as ticklish as we both know you are…~”

Nanami choked back his retort, focusing his efforts on keeping his icy composure. “Satoru… the last time you… did this- was when we were in school together.” He reminded his colleague, careful with his words so as not to fluster himself any further than he already was inside. “I've long since grown out of that childish sensitivity…”

But unfortunately nothing slips past Satoru and his infamous Six Eyes, the cheeky little bastard.

“Oho, did you now?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at his bold assertion, taking his defiance as a full blown challenge. “Well in that case, you shouldn't mind this then… right?”

He walked his fingers slowly up and down his sides, inching closer to his ribs with each trip up.

Nanami broke eye contact with him in an attempt to not react, feeling flustered at the teasing look in his eyes. “Of course I mind it… I don't like being touched by you.”

Yuji blinked, surprised at his calm and even tone. Had this been him instead of Nanami he would've been on the ground in a heap of giggles by now. “Hmm…”

Gojo knew better though, he knew he was slowly chipping away at his defenses. He could see the subtle cues, feel his muscles twitching. “Yes, Yuji? What ails you, my dear boy?” He asked, glancing over Kento’s shoulder to meet Yuji’s gaze- well, what he could glimpse of it with how the pinkette had his face angled, anyway.

“Maybe he's right,” Itadori said with a note of genuine seriousness. “Maybe he's not ticklish anymore… I know I'd be a mess right now.”

“Well, that's because you're hopelessly ticklish~” Gojo teased his student with a wink, grinning at the flustered look Itadori shot him. “So is Nanami though, maybe even just as bad as you.”

Nanami clenched his jaw in aggravation, barely resisting the urge to blush. “I am not. And stop talking about me like I'm not here!”

“But he's not reacting… not even his breathing is off.” Itadori ignored his teacher's protest, continuing to converse with Satoru.

“Well, Itadori, that's because Nanami here is what we call; ✨stubborn✨, and also shy.” Gojo grinned at his students' newfound curiosity, using this to his advantage as another form of teasing. “He needs some gentle reassurances that it's okay if he gives in to the nice tickly tickles and starts blushing and giggling like a schoolboy.” 

“Shut up. I most certainly do not giggle.” Nanami hissed in protest, feeling his face flush.

Whoopsie, that was a big chunk of his facade chipped away, watch your step everyone…

“Aww, see? He's already getting blushy.” Gojo cooed, brushing his fingertips against the bottom of the blonde's ribs. “It's okay, Kento… I don't mind being patient. That cute little laugh of yours is well worth the wait.”

Nanami took a sharp intake of breath, hating the feeling of how each gentle swipe across his ticklish midsection was chipping away at his sanity. “It's not… cute.” He forced out from behind gritted teeth.

Itadori raised an eyebrow, feeling his sensei tremble ever so slightly in his hold. “Does he really have a cute laugh?” He asked, grinning.

“No!”

Gojo laughed at Kento's quick rebuttal. “Yuji, come now, what about Nanami isn't utterly adorable~?” He continued dancing his fingertips lightly across what wasn't blocked off of Kento's ribs. “You know what's reeeeeally adorable about him?”

“What's that?”

“That he can't handle being teased... He gets extra giggly and blushy~” Gojo grinned, leaning in to speak quietly to Yuji, but just loud enough for Kento to still hear. This somehow made the snarky bastard's teases worse.

“Dammit… st-stop it already…!” Nanami huffed, squirming uselessly.

“Naaanami… does this tiiiiickle?” He teased, cooing at him like a damn toddler.

The younger teacher let out a growl of frustration, turning his head to face away from Gojo in a weak attempt to hide his darkening blush. He felt his body beginning to tremble as Gojo completely demolished his defenses.

“Come onnn… let us hear that adorable laugh~” he grinned, deciding to take things up a notch. He honed in on the sensitive spots between his ribs, giving light scratches to the area.

“Stop… I mean it…” he growled, forcing back any embarrassing sounds that may have tried to escape his throat. 

“What's this?? Do I see a smile on your face? but I thought you weren't ticklish anymore, Kento. What gives?” Gojo teased, grinning devilishly.

“Maybe he's finally starting to have fun spending time with us.” Yuji grinned. Thanks Yuji… we knew we could count on you to not bully Nanami too.

“Ooo, maybe! Does that mean you're actually going to ride the Ferris wheel with me?”

“Not on your life.” Kento hissed, his lips trembling as they formed a panicky smile.

“Aww! You're so mean to me…” Satoru whined, an evil glimmer in his eyes as he stilled his movements. “Fine then, since you're going to be so mean, maybe I'll go for your extra tickly spots… now where were those again…?” 

Nanami froze up as he felt Gojo pull a hand back to tap his chin in thought. In the process of doing so, he skimmed his fingertips against Nanami's waist, more specifically along the edge of his stomach. “S-Satoru…”

“Where oh where were those…” Gojo mumbled to himself, unable to keep the grin off of his face as he dropped his other hand, his fingers grazing Nanami's hip. “Oh… I just can't remember… the years are really starting to affect my memory!” He reached up to gently tap Kento's forehead to add emphasis to his words, but on the way up he brushed his fingers lightly against his neck.

Each ‘accidental’ touch, caused Nanami to flinch, the older of the two making sure his victim was well aware he knew exactly where his worst spots were… in his own chaotic Gojo way, of course.

“It’s a shame, really.” Satoru sighed, while he had Nanami distracted and on edge he mouthed a command to Yuji. 

The pinkette grinned mischievously, nodding his compliance as Nanami watched his other teacher cautiously.

“But, what can ya do? That's just life… as we get older, we become slower to react.” The white haired man shrugged, making sure both of his hands were perfectly visible as he did so.

And that's when he struck.

Itadori, without moving too much, reached down with a clawed hand and clawed into the spot along his waist that Satoru had sneakily pointed out earlier, having seen that Yuji was paying attention. (For once.)

Nanami gasped sharply, barking out an involuntary laugh. Shock crashing over him. “No, I-Ihihitadohohori!” The dam finally broke, laughter pouring freely from his lips. “Wahahahait!”

Satoru let out a low whistle. “What's this? I thought big scary Nanami wasn't ticklish anymore?” He smirked.

Nanami blushed, unable to stop the laughter that spilled forth. “Gojoho Ihihihi swehehear… I'm gonnahaha kihihihill you!” He threatened, though his words were… less than intimidating to say the least.

“Wow, you were actually right, Gojo.” Yuji chuckled. “His laugh is pretty cute.”

“Itadorihihi Hohohow could youhuhu?!” Kento's complaints about Yuji's betrayal were broken up by his warm, light laughter. 

Yuji grinned, moving around with his writhing teacher. “You also weren't kidding, he's really squirmy!”

Gojo smiled at the two of them, his mischief briefly shifted into warmth as he was brought back to a happier time.

Watching Yuji and Nanami now, he sees years of anguish and pain melt away even if just for a moment. 

For that moment, Satoru can see a young Nanami being absolutely destroyed with tickles by Haibara, Geto and himself while Shoko shakes her head and giggles at their antics.

It's definitely been far too long.

Gojo blinked, bringing himself back to the present. “Geez Yuji, I told you to keep him still.” He chuckled at how Itadori was practically hanging off of Nanami's back as Nanami had managed to double over with laughter.

“Hey, it's a lot harder than it looks!” Yuji laughed, his fingers dancing relentlessly along the side of his stomach.

“You have superhuman strength and can call on the power of the king of curses… and this is difficult for you?”

“Listen--” Yuji laughed again. “I can be strong all I want, but there's only so much I can do without any help!”

“Surprisingly wise words from you, Itadori.” Gojo grinned mischievously. “Alright alright, I'll help.”

He reached forward, grabbing a hold of Nanami whilst simultaneously administering some quick sneaky tickles to Itadori.

“Hehehey! Do you want mehe to fall?!” Yuji complained, trying to shift away from Gojo's soft pokes and scribbles while keeping his balance.

“Ehh… you've already fallen twice today… What's a third time?” He grinned, tickling Itadori’s neck with one hand, and targeting Nanami's hip with the other.

“Nohoho! Sahahatoru gehehet away!” Nanami laughed, trying desperately to escape the two tickle monsters he had attached to him.

Itadori let out a childish squeal as he flailed, finally falling off of Nanami’s back. He still had a partial grip on his mentor and ended up pulling him to the ground with him.

Gojo laughed, releasing both of them from his tickly hold. 

Nanami had managed to twist around, catching Itadori and breaking his fall with his arm.

Itadori giggled softly as he recovered from the tickles. He felt Nanami carefully press his hand into the back of his neck, then his shoulder, then brush against the back of his head silently assessing the teen making sure he wasn't hurt.

Had it been Gojo who had fallen with him, he wouldn't have cared, and not bothered trying to break his fall. But since it was Itadori- he didn't want him to get hurt.

Once he determined Yuji was okay his body went limp, resting back against the ground while he focused on steadying his breathing.

“Thanks a lot, Gojo…” Yuji huffed, a smile still etched on his face.

“To be fair, I didn't say who I was helping...” Gojo teased, kneeling down beside the teen.

Kento huffed indignantly, his arms tightly wrapped around his middle as he caught his breath. “You're both terrible…” 

Satoru turned his gaze to Nanami, an evil smile on his lips. “Oh, Kento… you didn't honestly think I was done with you yet, did you?” His blue eyes sparkled with a predatory glimmer as he launched himself onto the blonde, thanks to limitless Nanami wasn’t able to put up much fight. 

“Really?” Nanami glared up at him, his sunglasses long since fallen off his face from all his struggling earlier. 

Satoru smiled triumphantly from his spot on Nanami’s thighs.

“You can’t even take me on without the use of your stupid limitless ability?” The stern teacher asked dryly, knowing any struggling his did would be pointless. He wasn’t going anywhere as long as Satoru kept limitless active.

“I thought I’d save us some time… we both know I was gonna overpower you anyways.” Gojo grinned, leaning down and draping his body lazily across Nanami’s to keep him more securely in place, and in doing so he was able to murmur teases into his ear. “All I’d have to do to get the upper hand is…”

He grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hip and began squeezing them relentlessly. “This…”

Nanami gasped sharply, unable to grab the offending hands because again, limitless. “Sahahatoru! D-Dahahahammit stop!”

“Or this…” Satoru shifted his hands upwards, scribbling his blunt nails against the sides of his stomach over his shirt, drawing even louder laughter from the blonde. The fact he could barely move to protect himself made it so much worse.

“Or… this.” Gojo grinned, pressing his lips to his neck and blowing a raspberry against it whilst administering gentle scritches.

“SHIHIHIHIHIT!” Poor Nanami couldn’t even arch his back with Gojo a firm weight against him.

“I think you should’ve just rode the ferris wheel with me.” Satoru teased, blowing another raspberry.

“EHEHEHENouGH Alreheheheady! Ahahahaha!”

“I thought you didn’t giggle, Nanami sensei.” Yuji grinned in amusement, sneaking in some teasing pokes to what he could access of Nanami’s ribs.

Gojo grinned, angling his body in a way that the pinkette had more access the right side of his body while still keeping him firmly held down. 

“You didn’t seriously-” small raspberry. “--believe him over me-” slightly bigger raspberry. “--did you?” BIIIIIG raspberry, followed by what Kento would firmly deny was a squeal. Because if he doesn't giggle, then he CERTAINLY doesn’t squeal. 

Itadori giggled at his reactions, scooting closer to scribble his fingers up and down the side of his ribcage. “No, but I also didn’t have a basis to doubt Nanami either.”

“Oh yes you did.” Gojo laughed, pulling his face away from the blonde’s neck to glance at Itadori. “You had to know he was lying the minute he denied being ticklish still.”

Well fine… If he can’t get Satoru then… “Ihihihi-- I thohohohught Ihi told you tohoho stahap talking about mehehe like I’m not here!” Kento shot his hand out, grabbing hold of Yuji’s side and giving it fluttery squeezes, drawing surprised laughter from the student.

“Aieee! Hehehehehey! Hohohohow are you moving?! Stahahap that!” Yuji squealed as Kento latched onto his ribs next. “Gohohohohojo hehehehelp!”

“Nahhh… You’re a big boy… you can deal with him yourself.” Satoru grinned, alternating between his hip and stomach side with gentle scratches. “It’ll be a good training exercise for you… let me juuust… piss him off a little more for ya~”

“Gohohohohojo!” 

“Sahahahahtoru, I swehehehear to god!”

Satoru ignored both of their protests, pushing his shirt up so he could attack his exposed skin directly. “So If my memory serves correctly, your ticklish spots are as follows,” he grinned, sitting upright. “Hips, Neck, this cute spot here~” he emphasized by fluttering his fingers briefly against his stomach sides. “Ribs are decently tickly… Am I missing anything, Nanami? Am I hitting all the nice tickly spots?”

“S-Satoru… dohon’t.”

“Don’t what? I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I mean it…”

Satoru grinned. “But Kento, I promised to smother you with tickles… and I wouldn’t wanna disappoint you. So come on, answer my question~”

“Go to hell.” He hissed in response.

Gojo’s grin widened. Welp, nice knowing ya, Nanami.

“On second thought, maybe I will help you, Itadori.” He reached out and grabbed Nanami’s wrist and yanked it away from the pinkette, pinning it above his head quickly and firmly. In a flash, he snatched his other hand and pinned it above his head as well.

Yuji fell back with his arms around his midsection, giggling softly as he panted from the after tickles.

“Gojo, let me go right now.” Kento growled.

Satoru leaned down, grinning that evil grin at him. “Do you really think you're in a position to give me orders?”

“What are you… no… don’t you dare-- nononono!”

Gojo leaned down further, pressing his lips against Kento's exposed stomach and blowing a giant raspberry against it, eliciting an honest to god shriek in response.

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAHAHAMMIT!” He let out another shriek as the arrogant teacher dispensed yet another devastating raspberry against his toned abdomen. 

Yuji sat up, stunned by the sound of his loud laughter. “Holy shit, Gojo don’t kill him!”

The teacher in question grinned, placing another raspberry against a different spot on his stomach. “Jealous, kid? Don’t worry, I have plenty of tickles to go around.” He winked at the pink haired student, who giggled nervously and wrapped his arms around himself subconsciously.

“GOHOHOHOHJO STAHAHAHAHAHAAP!” Nanami pressed out between deep belly laughs, his face flushed and his eyes tightly shut.

“Aww, but why when you’re having so much fun?” Gojo teased, placing another raspberry. “I remember this used to be your favorite~” 

“I SWEHEHEHEHEAR TO GAHAHAHAD, I WIHIHIHILL EHEHEHEND YOU!”

“Man, you’ve definitely gotten more stubborn and resilient… usually by now you would’ve been apologizing profusely and crying with laughter while begging me to stop.” Gojo chuckled, pausing his ruthless onslaught. “Or maybe…”

He leaned back to admire his handiwork, Kento a breathless blushing mess beneath him. “Maybe you don’t really want me to stop…” his grin widened when he saw Nanami open his eyes and attempt to glare at him. 

“W-Why would… you possibly think that… i…” He gasped out softly, still attempting to catch his breath. 

“Well… why else would you be so grumpy and resistant this whole time unless you wanted to egg me on?”

“To be fair… he is normally like this.” Yuji pointed out.

Satoru shifted so that he could hold both of Nanami’s arms down with one hand, using his newly freed hand to administer swift tickles to Itadori’s side. “Excuse me, but whose side are you on anyway???”

Yuji squealed and recoiled sharply from Gojo’s skilled fingers. “Ihihi wahahas just being hohohonest!”

“And now you’ve distracted me and given him time to think out his response,” Satoru huffed. “You’re definitely gonna get it later, now.”

Itadori squeaked, wrapping himself back up with his arms.

“Well Kento? I’m waiting, why are you egging it on if you don’t like it?” The older teacher turned his attention back to the now less breathless blonde, thanks to the intermission brought to you by Itadori and his big fat mouth.

“Because I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of breaking, that’s why.” He retorted, his face less flushed than previously.

“Ehh! wrong!” Satoru unleashed another tickle attack, his fingers scribbling all across his neck. “Try again!”

“Sahahahahatoru Stahahap!”

“Not until you admit it.” Gojo smirked. 

“Ahahahadmit whahahahat?”

“Admit you missed being wrecked, ya big softie!” He cooed, tracing his fingers along each rib.

“I dihihihihidn’t!” Nanami yelped, squirming as much as he could under his colleague’s technique.

“Wrong again. Itadori, be a peach and come help me, won’t you? It seems Nanami requires more reassurance.”

“Ihihihitadori dohohohon’t!”

“You’re not going to tickle me again, are you?” Itadori asked carefully, eyeing his teacher suspiciously.

“I will if you don’t get your ass over here In the next five seconds.” he responded, an evil glimmer in his eyes.

Itadori let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper as he quickly shuffled over. 

“Gojo, Itadori… don’t even--” His protest was interrupted by another shriek as Gojo blew a massive raspberry against his stomach side.

He released Nanami’s wrists, which Yuji instantly snatched up and pinned down. Gojo used his newly freed hands to drill his thumbs into Kento’s hips as he continued his torturous trail of raspberries and tickly death along his stomach area.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAHATORU DOHOHOHOHNT!”

“You know how to make it stop, Nanami~” Gojo hummed, administering another devastatingly massive raspberry against the side of his stomach.

“JUHUHUHUST WAHAHAHAIT UNTIL I GEHEHET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU SOHOHOHON OF A BIHIHIHIHITCH!” The usually stoic teacher threatened between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Yuji snickered quietly. “He’s definitely stubborn...” the pink haired teen grinned, shifting so that he could pin Nanami’s hands down with his knee. “Let me take a crack at it!”

He began to claw at his mentors exposed ribcage, his fingers gentle but quick as they expertly sought out sensitive spots. “Nanami~ Does this tiiiiickle?” Yuji teased.

“IHIHIHITADORI! KNOHOHOHOHOCK IHIHIT OFF! STAHAHAP HELPING HIM!”

Gojo chuckled, pausing his attack to glance up at Itadori. “You’re getting pretty good at this, I’ve taught you well~” 

Yuji grinned at the praise from Satoru. “Heh… thanks. I’m just doing what tickles really bad from my own experience.”

The pinkette noticed the higher he moved up Nanami’s ribs, the more he struggled. “Gojo… are you sure those were all of Nanami’s ticklish spots you named off earlier…?”

“Hmmmm? Think I missed a spot?” Satoru played along, grinning that cheshire grin at his student. “It’s entirely possible… he never did confirm or deny if I named ‘em all.”

“Nanami?” Yuji looked down as he stilled his hands, allowing his teacher to attempt to catch his breath. “Did he miss a spot?” he asked innocently, but that smile on his face was anything but.

“I swehehear to god…” He panted. “Whehen I get my hands on you…”

“Now Nanami… that doesn’t sound like an answer to his question~” Gojo grinned, prodding his stomach side and producing a small yelp.

“It’s okay, Gojo.” Yuji responded with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Then he struck. Digging mercilessly wiggling fingers into his armpits. 

And boy, did Nanami absolutely lose it. Any semblance of composure? Yeah no, gone, we don’t know her. 

Much like Yuji isn’t going to know peace when Nanami gets his hands on him. Rip Yuji lol.

“AAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He absolutely howled with laughter, struggling with all his might to break free. “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE! AHAHAHANYWHEHEHERE BUT THEHEHEHERE!”

“WHOA! Gojo you didn’t just miss a ticklish spot, you missed the ticklish spot!” Yuji found himself laughing along with his mentor in amusement.

“It looks that way,” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. “So, Kento? Anything you wanna say?”

He grinned, leaning down and placing his elbows on either side of the hysterical blonde, resting his face on his hands as he watched him. In doing this, he was almost entirely draped over him again, greatly limiting his movements.

“SAHAHAHATORU I HAHAHAHATE YOU!”

Satoru chuckled, “Not quite… I think what you mean’t to say was, ‘Satoru, I actually love spending time with all of you.’ and ‘I actually like being tickled.’”

Yuji giggled, speeding up his tickles.

“GAHAHAHAHA! I-I CAHAHAHANT… PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!” He cried with laughter, tears prickling at the corners of his tightly shut eyes. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE YUHUHUHUJI!”

For a moment, Itadori felt a little bad and looked at Gojo, who shook his head. “Trust me, kid… you’re gonna wanna keep going.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.” was the blue eyed teacher’s vague and careful response.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” His laughter started to become hoarse as he tried to hide his face in his bicep. “OKAHAHAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY! IHIHIHI’LL RIDE THE STUHUHUHUPID FERRIS WHEEL WIHIHITH YOU!”

“Noooo… we’re way past that, the other paaaart.” Satoru reminded teasingly, pinching his side.

“AHAHAHA! FIHIHIHIHINE!! I LIHIHIHIKE SPEHEHEHENDING TIME WITH YOUHUHUHU GUYS!”

“Aaaaand?” 

Oh, Gojo was sooooooo going to get it when he got ahold of him.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” 

Yuji looked up, grinning upon seeing Megumi standing there; pink balloon and all. “Hey Megu-- ACK!”

Nobara came running out of nowhere and knocked Yuji off of Nanami. “Hey, stop picking on Nanami!” she scolded.

Satoru sighed, grinning. Eh… close enough. He rolled off of Nanami lazily, remaining propped up on his elbows next to him.

“Ow! Jeez Nobara! It’s not like I was hurting him or anything, you didn’t have to knock me over.” He mumbled, sitting up.

“He very clearly was struggling to breathe.” Megumi pointed out, eyeing Satoru. “I’m gonna guess this was your idea?”

“How’d ya know, Gumi?” He asked cheerfully.

“Whenever there’s chaos going on you’re the cause.” The edgy teen pointed out, sitting on the ground with the others to feel included.

“Are you okay, sensei?” Nobara asked, helping Nanami up into a sitting position. “Want me to kick his ass?”

The blonde shook his head, a smile still on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. “No… That won’t… be necessary…”

Yuji giggled, leaning over and hugging Nanami. “Sorry I went a little overboard… It was just really nice to see and hear you laugh… I hope you’re not too mad at me.”

Nanami sighed as he (mostly) caught his breath, he reached up and hooked his arm around Yuji’s shoulders, cupping the back of his head as he pulled him closer into the hug. “I’m not mad… embarrassed, but not mad…”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Yuji pulled back slightly to look up at him, confused.

Nanami retorted with a ‘You’re joking, right?’ expression on his face.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, we all goof around like this all the time.” Itadori grinned, beaming up at Megumi, who quickly looked away to avoid blushing at the implication. He then turned his gaze to Nobara, who also looked away with a casual whistle. 

“He’s right,” Satoru chimed in, sitting upright. “It just means we really like you when we pick on you like this.” Yuji nodded in agreement.

“You could like me a little less.” Kento muttered.

“You rested enough to chase down Itadori?” Satoru asked, grinning.

“Not quite…”

“Why would he chase me down?” Yuji pulled away from Nanami, eyeing the stern teacher carefully.

“Ohhh… I forgot to tell you.” Gojo grinned more. “Yeah, there’s a reason I ‘forgot’ his worst spot… It’s because he absolutely destroys anyone who targets it as retaliation.”

Yuji squeaked, noticing the evil glimmer in Nanami’s eyes.

“Yeahhh… Let’s just say ratio can be used for more than pain… Suguru and I learned that one the hard way.” He snickered at the terrified look on Itadori’s face.

“Y-You set me up!”

“I did nothing of the sort, you’re the one who decided to try that spot.” Satoru grinned. “I’d probably start running if I were you… the more tired he is the more head start you have, and since you’ve wasted so much time letting him recover… I’d say you have about a minute to get as far as humanly possible before he hunts you down.”

Yuji yelped and sprung up, taking Gojo’s advice and running away, causing the others to laugh.

“Hey, Megumi, where’d your balloon go?” Nobara asked.

Megumi smirked and shrugged. “Beats me…” 

Nanami was about to get up and go after the pinkette when Gojo leaned forward, hugging his colleague, causing him to tense up. “I’m sorry, Kento… I forgot you used to go to the amusement park with Haibara on the weekends…” he whispered. “But I think he would still want you to go out and have fun… I know Suguru would want that for me.” 

Nanami untensed, frowning as he thought about his deceased best friend. He hugged him back hesitantly. “I miss him… a lot…”

“I know… I do too.”

After a moment they let go. “Hey Satoru…?”

“Yea?”

“...Thanks…” He looked away as he quietly continued. “I… needed that.”

Gojo grinned. “Anytime, buddy~”

Nanami looked around curiously. “Now then, which way did Itadori go? I need to have a talk with him…”

“He went that way.” Nobara pointed off in a direction.

“He should be pretty easy to spot,” Megumi said casually, sipping his drink. “Just look for the person running frantically with a pink sakura balloon attached to his belt.”

Nanami smirked, nodding his thanks as he got up and took off after the pink haired teen.

“I so wanna see this…” Nobara giggled, getting up too. “You coming, Megumi?”

The raven haired teen shook his head, to which Nobara shrugged at and went running after them. “Nanami sensei, wait up! I wanna help!!”

Satoru chuckled and shook his head before turning to address his adopted son. “Did ya have fun today, kiddo?” he asked as he ruffled his dark hair.

Megumi grunted in response.

A shriek nearby distracted them momentarily, causing them both to laugh. Evidently Yuji had been caught.

“I’ve had worse days.” The teen answered, standing up with his parental figure.

Gojo grinned, his face brightening as he threw his arm around his edgy emo son’s shoulders, pulling him into him as they began walking. He knew that was Fushiguro for; ‘Yes dad, I had a wonderful time today.’

“Good. Now then… let’s go get some snacks or something, I saw they were selling cotton candy as big as your head at one of these stalls…”

“I'd be more impressed if they had cotton candy the size of your mouth.”

[onesnoopyaday]

It's Charles M. Schulz's 102nd Birthday Today!

Snoopy #56

26/11/2024

Reference image under the cut :)

(source)

Also here is an interview snippet which I thought was interesting. I've never thought much about what his creative process might have been like. Also, I didn't realise that the panels he drew on were so much larger than what ended up in print. I mean, it makes sense, but I guess I always just assumed he drew up the squares exactly the way they looked in the end.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Tf2 into the Tintin verse

Reference:

[transformersbrainrot]

Oh look, it's that Orion/Optimus religious trauma post I was talking about the other day

DISCLAIMER: ALL THIS IS ABOUT THE CONTINUITY THAT EXISTS PURELY IN MY HEAD, BUT THERE AREN'T TOO MANY SWINGS BIG ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU LOST. HOPEFULLY, JUST GO WITH IT, AND YOU SHOULD BE FINE. ALSO, EVERYTHING WRITTEN HERE IS WRITTEN FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF OPTIMUS. IT'S NOT NECESSARILY AN ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF REALITY.

So this is sort of a semi-sequel post to the MegOp No Children post I made a few days ago because, once again, an angst song that was popular in fandom spaces a few years ago is only reaching me and making me crazy now. I'm late to the Saint Bernard party, but whatever, here we go:

Orion Pax: the first worthy Matrix bearer since the Golden Age and newly christened Optimus Prime. Orion was never one to believe in the myths surrounding the Matrix. Sentinel Prime was basically a father to him, and in all their time together, the power that came from having that artifact was political. It was certainly a powerful symbol, but communing with past wielders? Empowering those who held it in their chest? Alpha Trion had always reminded Orion that there was always truth at the heart of legends, but surely the more fantastical parts of those stories weren't what he meant. Those were just hyperbole creeping in as Cybertron's past leaders faded into history and became mythologized. And yet here he was, practically twice his old height, recovering from wounds that should be fatal, and with all these new voices in his head.

Hung pictures of patron saints up on my wall To remind me that I am a fool Tell me where I came from, what I will always be: Just a spoiled little kid who went to Catholic school

When a worthy Cybertronian takes on the Matrix of Leadership, it creates a link to all the wisdom held within it: that of all previous Matrix Bearers and of The Thirteen. Usually, it's a blessing. It's supposed to be a blessing. Instant counsel with some of history's most outstanding leaders, warriors, and philosophers? Most people would kill for something like that, but for Optimus Prime, it was nothing but a constant reminder of what he isn't. He and his Autobots claim to fight for freedom and a better tomorrow but look who he was up against. An Iaconian elite, given all the opportunity and education anyone could ask for, against a miner-turned-gladiator who was never given anything? Wasn't this the same as it always was?

When I am dead, I won't join their ranks 'Cause they are both holy and free And I'm in Ohio, satanic and chained up And until the end, that's how it'll be

No matter how the Matrix judges him, Optimus can't bring himself to believe he is a pure and worthy spark. Those who now reside in the Matrix are written about in history books because their thoughts and actions made Cybertron better than it was without them. And what's Optimus brought upon Cybertron? An inescapable war that's tearing the people and the planet apart? There's no way history will remember Optimus Prime as anything but a warmonger.

I said "Make me love myself, so that I might love you" Don't make me a liar, 'cause I swear to God When I said it, I thought it was true

How is Optimus supposed to live up to the title that's been thrust upon him—that of a leader who loves and cares for his people when he doesn't even love and care for himself. Not after he was betrayed by his... By Megatron. And after he betrayed him back. It feels like an eternity ago, but somehow, when Sentinel had admitted that he hoped Orion would be the person to succeed him as Prime, and he accepted, Orion thought he would be ready when the time came. This is not what he thought it would feel like.

Saint Calvin told me not to worry about you But he's got his own things to deal with There's really just one thing that we have in common: Neither of us will be missed

When Orion and Megatronus first became close, Sentinel said that Orion was wasting his time. Sentinel never saw what Orion did in that gladiator, but look where that landed him. Now, he's dead at the hands of the very person he dismissed so long ago. The two new leaders of Cybertron are so very different. But, in the end, they're both spurring on this war, and they're both damned for it.

Saint Bernard sits at the top of the driveway You always said how you loved dogs I don't know if I count, but I'm trying my best When I'm howling and barking these songs

Even if Sentinel's spark doesn't reside within the Matrix, his memory sits at the front of Optimus's thoughts—almost as prominently as Megatronus. Sentinel's vision for Orion was of someone who upheld the same system he did. Optimus certainly isn't doing that. But, despite how dark the depths of Sentinel's worldview turned out to be, Optimus is not a new person. Deep down, he's still Orion Pax, and he can't bring himself to hate the Prime who did so much to create the man he is today. Maybe somewhere, the part of Sentinel Orion thought he knew was real. Maybe that part of him, however small, can understand the kind of world Optimus Prime is trying to create...

[stripedstarsblueflags]

i didn't win the wheel: episode 6

would you believe me if i said i thought i was ready for how depressed doing this series was going to make me, but i was wrong? i am stupid. i am actually stupid.

Logan (in the most deadpan, empty, listless voice I have ever heard and I've worked with middle schoolers): "We will be playing a mini football– foosball– ah, game... and first to five– whoever wins–"

[he looks up at Alex, then points to the camera]

Logan the Game Show Host: "⭐⭐ Gets to spin that wheel ⭐⭐"

jesus christ, i remember starting this series, first rewatching it all, and realizing that i could literally watch everything drain out of logan episode by episode. i just.. legitimately forgot how quickly that happens. how few episodes there are. let me TRY to find something good... anyways, The Bit is back. at this point in the show logan is doing pretty much all the introductions, so alex has very much settled into his role of "can i play with this while you're talking? okay thanks :)". logan actually tries to direct his attention to the camera more than once as he's introducing it, because alex is just fidgeting away... but it's not restless or hyperactive or excited. it's like he's matching logan's energy. logan is dejected, lifeless, bored; alex is an absolute mirror right in the very introduction of the video which, um, not a good look if you're the editor. and then logan does his little thing and looks right at alex, even as he's moving away, and then *all of the sudden* there's this brilliant smile and he's actually laughing... and alex, who at first only laughs a little (because logan's dark cloud is raining on them both today) meets logan's eyes and hears the laugh and THEN his sunshine is back. look at how quickly he glances from logan back to the camera... it's like he's just unexpectedly been given his cue. oh! look at that! this is actually fun?? we're having fun?? listen to him i think we're having fun!

sorry to dash your hopes, alex. after the one glint of laughter, logan is immediately locked in, i mean look at him he's practically gritting his teeth. meanwhile alex isn't quite having fun– he's losing by a lot– but he's trying to sort of jumpstart some fun anyway. the whole time he's making his little noises like "aaaAAA!" or "oooOOoo" that don't really mean anything, but it's kind of like when you're trying to get your dog to do something it doesn't want to do... you put all the emphasis in your voice and pretend that the bath or whatever is actually THE BEST PLACE EVER and SUPER SUPER FUN just to get the task over with. to get participation. and logan is... well, he's participating in the game, but he's not participating in alex's game. and alex seems awkward and alone and like he's trying too hard, because he is. because he's expecting a little bit of banter, a little bit of anything from logan's side that he can sort of coax into something eventually, because if anyone can bring logan out of his shell it's alex. but right now he's left with nothing. logan's doing what he's told. he happens to be alongside alex. that's all alex is getting.

ugh, thank god that's over. we're warming up a little! only took the most painful game of foosball i've ever secondhand experienced. alex spent the whole time losing, but not only did he not really lock in, he also didn't stop talking for more than five seconds for, like, the whole game. "what team are you, by the way?" straight up asking useless questions just to get something. i said earlier that alex's exuberance comes out extra when he's around logan– subconsciously or consciously– but this is a very solid, definitive example of what it looks like when it's intentional. he's nearly embarrassing himself. he sounds like an absolute goofball because he's trying so hard to bring the energy up. because they've done this before, they've played together, they've connected, they've had fun, why can't it be like before? why can't they find their own little world away from all the shitshow around them just for three minutes like they used to? he's trying too hard and he doesn't really know how and it shows.

but look, we got that little win celebration. FINALLY. some emotion!! never mind the fact that there's literally no eye contact... hmm, wonder how alex will react to this?

[Logan is declared the winner, cute little transition graphic]

Alex: "Disgusting defeat..."

Logan: "5 - 1... I'll give it to you, I had a little practice trial before–"

Alex: "To be honest with you, I don't think it owuld have made a difference."

Logan: "A little..." (cuts himself off because he's laughing)

aaaaahhhhh that's refreshing. okay. you know what this reminds me of? episode two. "you're a lot better at golf than me, so i expect you to do well." neither of them approach these challenges with the arrogant, hyperbolic confidence of carlos and charles (which is always hilarious and adorable between those two but anyways) but they're generally pretty confident. competitive, like all drivers. i have yet to see a put down from one to the other stronger than the infamous wink of episode one but i can only count two instances where they're putting themselves down. logan did it first when alex was getting distracted by his own anxiety. and here alex does it. why? because he spent the whole damn game trying to break the ice and WHEN DID IT BREAK? at the win. at the hands-in-the-air, the cheering, the laughter. so now he's going to go after that feeling like he's cracked the case. he exaggerates not only his own defeat but also apparently his skill level? logan tries to sort of put them on an even plane and alex is like hell no i ain't messin with this self confidence moment. he's found some momentum, he's running with it, he's not going to drop it now. still fidgety but now turned almost all the way in to face logan. no eye contact, but not gazing all over the place either, he's listening. he's listening carefully. knowing the moves to make. and you know what?

Logan: "I mean you did score an oggie to lose, little own-goal.. but, uh–"

Alex (laughing): "Oggie..."

Logan: "Little oggie, oggie..."

(Alex is still laughing)

Logan: "But you know the deal. That means... I get to spin that wheel–"

(he and Alex immediately start laughing before he can completely round off the sentence)

it fucking works. it did take me a while to figure out what oggie meant because i'm culturally inept and even more so when it comes to anything to do with sport. anyway, it's a silly word, and alex has such a low threshold for what he finds funny (even LOWER if it's said by logan) that he can't help but laugh and repeat it to himself, and then because he's laughing logan goes ahead and repeats it again. looking over at him to catch the smile on his face. and of course alex can't even hold the eye contact because now he's flustered, because he wasn't ready for happy logan today and he doesn't know how to play it cool at the best of times... also standing that stiff with his hand on his hip so he can continue to face like 80% towards logan? is not playing it cool? logan smiles and alex remembers how head over heels he is. love to see it.

Logan: "So. Let's get into it."

Alex (frat boy Logan voice): "boom. spin that wheel babyyy"

(brief moment where he clearly has no idea what he just said)

Alex (normal voice): "What?"

(surprised and hysterical burst of laughter)

first of all, alex leaning into logan (while logan puts his own hand on his hip to make room) and putting his chin in his hand is fucking adorable. alex in general is adorable but can you imagine him acting this way with literally anybody else? even george? think about it the answer is no. moving on:

sometimes alex reaches the point of his silliness where nothing he says makes sense, even to his own ears. on team torque logan is obviously pretty used to the glittery moments of nonsense, but this is so random and so stupid that logan's laugh sounds like he was very much caught off guard, and then alex is laughing at himself and they're both cracking up and they have to visibly switch gears to focus on the wheel as it gets to a prize. because after all this they've finally gotten to ✨their space✨ and it's surprising because neither of them thought that was going to happen today! and it's a relief! but it's at the end of the activity. and we've gotten to a point where ✨their space✨ can only exist in little bubbles, little pre-designed staged moments when they're not in real life anymore they're just in a video. and then the video ends and real life is back and how are they supposed to keep pretending like the world isn't falling apart for one of them? how is that space sustainable in the real world?

so basically alex had to jump through eight and a half hoops to get to this point and it's over as soon as it's begun. because he doesn't get to have this part of logan in a way that he can keep. that part is off-limits to him, closed off by the neglect and the depression and the constant self-deprecation that is unspoken but visible from a mile away. logan's losing f1, he's losing his seat, he's losing his team, and alex isn't even comprehending that he's losing logan. he's not giving up his prompting or joking even when it gets awkward, even when logan might even consciously be shutting him out, because he's not willing to except that this is ending prematurely. "it ain't over til it's over" well alex fucking needs that. he needs every last second of logan he can get before they're torn apart and he doesn't want to spend those seconds looking at him between iron bars but that's what it feels like. because logan isn't allowed to have happiness and alex isn't allowed to have logan.

fucking hell

episode 7

[sagau-my-beloved]

Death At The Hands Of A God

Warnings: general sagau, imposter au, light descriptions of violence/gore, you die/are killed (by Venti), angst

-

It seemed as if the rain was particularly heavy, almost unusually so as it fell in sheets, occasionally catching the light of the moon, making it look no different than strands of silver.

That should have been a sign, the rain, the fog, the agitation of the weather. Mondstadt hadn't faced a storm this bad since before their current Archon, even the winds of Dvalin paled in comparison.

Venti was so ignorant not to pick up on the clues laid out before him by his own nation as he trudged through heavy rain, his bow at the ready and a sinking feeling in his chest.

He would never say he disliked the rain, despite what unpleasant memories linger in the back of his mind from those times. But everything carried a harsher weight when was faced with his current task, one assigned to him by no other than his creator.

Venti stopped to rest a moment, leaning against a tree for partial coverage, though it did little to shield his already soaked clothes. He felt something heavy and unpleasant in his chest as he reflected on the situation, an unshakable sense of wrongness, one that clouded his mind and dulled his senses. You were what he was after, you who posed a threat to the divine order simply because of your face.

He thought back on his creators’ honeyed words, a sickeningly sweet tone that he had never heard them use before, not that they very commonly addressed him at all, which made this particular summons out of place, a mixture of excitement and worry bubbling in his chest as he walked through their temple. To kill someone impersonating them, that is what they ordered him, hinting at the possible consequences his nation may face if he didn't comply with the utmost enthusiasm, the threat of which rang particularly loud when faced with what they had done to other nations in fits of anger.

He knew deep within him that this wasn't remotely justified, that he might as well be punished alongside you if the crime was simply stealing a face. If only you chose to look like another human, or even an Archon, he would have taken your mimicry of him as a complementary. But alas. Those feelings were pushed down and covered by the vow he made to his nation, one born of nothing but love and a promise for a brighter future.

Venti had considered alternatives, confronting you with your motive, begging you to make yourself scarce, making his own judgement on your reasons and framing his response accordingly, but those were all fleeting thoughts, quickly pushed away as soon as they arose. He couldn't get attached, he couldn't afford to think of you as human, and he certainly couldn't afford it getting back to his creator that he failed them.

He had heard about your existence from other sources, apparently being so bold as to walk directly into Mondstadt. You weren't met with pitchforks and torches, his people were more civilized than that, but the hostility was as sharp as a knife. You had left of your own accord after having no luck obtaining food or a place to stay, he had only heard after the fact from gossipers drinking late into the night, the faces of which were forced into his mind as he once again thought of his creators’ threat.

Venti was pulled from his thoughts due to a subtle noise, one almost unnoticeable through the heavy onset of rain, but it was there. A branch and a pile of leaves, something big enough to break them, and no one in their right mind would be out in this weather, except...

He swallowed what little apprehension he’d not already buried, reverting his mindset to something it had been five hundred years ago with the quick draw of his bow. The Archon saw you in the distance, just as soaked as he was, clothes tattered and foreign, scared. A quick death was the least you deserved, one free from suffering, and maybe your next life would be more forgiving.

He aimed for your head, a clear shot even now, but it seemed the moonlight that glinting off his bow caught your attention as you quickly turned your body to face him in a defensive stance, eyes wide, fearful, as if you could see what was about to come to fruition.

Your mouth moved, only fragments of the noise it produced were carried to him, broken syllables and muffled notes the very wind urged him to listen to.

You had said his name.

Venti faltered before the arrow released, for the first time in centuries, its' path no longer as steady or sure as it had been.

It hit your throat.

Venti's legs were moving before he consciously realized, forcing his body to where you fell, as if collapsing in on yourself, until he could finally see you clearly, drenched in rain and golden liquid, mixing together indiscriminately as they soak into the ground below.

There was a feeling of shock, which developed in his throat first, spreading evenly throughout the rest of his body, as if it were in his bloodstream. He looked at your terrified expression, a pained and now lifeless one, holding only fragments of the fear you felt.

What had he done.

Venti felt himself fall to his knees, hands immediately going to where his arrow lay firmly lodged, feeling for a pulse in an act he knew to be worthless.

"No. No, n-no— no. Please!" His voice cracked as his mind caught up with what his eyes were forcing him to behold.

You were the divine creator, Teyvat's one true God, and he had—

No. He couldn't even think it, the word that was on the tip of his mind carried nothing but pain, anguish and insufferable heartache, the likes of which he hadn't felt, well since...

Without thinking, Venti wrapped his arms around you, laid his head on your stomach, forced his eyes closed, and prayed. For your return, for forgiveness, and if not for any of that, then simply for a form of retribution.

He hadn't realized he'd started crying, tears and rain alike falling from his face onto your form, pooling at his eyes until the world around him became harder and harder to see.

The position you both rested in was not unlike that day long ago, forever etched in his memory and resurfaced through reflections.

Was this simple his fate? To find himself holding in his arms the corpse of someone he loved so dearly, over and over again. Was it written in his very being that all good things would be torn violently from him with little care to how it left him shattered, scrambling for the pieces of what little piece of mind he had left.

There was no coming back from this, no form of atonement. He could feel the shackles encasing his wrists, invisibly tying him to this moment, to where you had stood alive moments prior. His days of living freely died with you, forever encased in the space between where your souls had briefly met, and it was no more than he deserved.

It was only a moment later that your body was gone, dissolved into the stardust it was born from, slipping through his arms and carried by the wind that no longer obeyed him. That didn't stop him from reaching desperately, gasping and clawing at the air for what remained, heart in his throat as he begged for mercy, for anything but you depriving him of your vessel even after death.

You couldn't really be gone, not fully, you who so powerfully morphed this world from willpower alone, who disappeared for an infinite stretch of time only to descend again. Even if your vessel may have been no stronger than human, your soul was as old and powerful as existence itself, it would linger on in whatever form it had existed before, watching, waiting.

He would be ready for when you decided to give this world a second chance, he would wait an eternity and more to see your face again and repent a thousand times over, bear any hardships in the time between only to fall to his knees in complete acceptance at whatever you deem an acceptable punishment when faced with your light again.

But first...

It seemed as if there was a loose end to tie up, a deceiver bearing the ultimate sin, one much more deserving of his arrow, and one that would suffer a fate worse than death in your name.

Venti roughly brushed the tears from his face, eyes darkening as he shakily pulled himself from his knees, feeling as if his body couldn't decide between flying or collapsing.

His ‘creator’ would soon face all the fear and pain that was forced upon you, the wrath of a god who had lost everything for the second time, a goal he planned to pursue till his dying breath.

[cruelplatonic]

ruminating on 'the vees died despondent nobodies' thoughts

velvette interrogates vox after she hears him give various conflicting and bombastic accounts on air. a selection of these include: blew his brains out on live television, administered the death penalty for killing his "bitch wife," a tragic accident involving two shetland ponies, dubiously legal iranian yogurts, and a whole lot of cocaine. the actual cause was shockingly ordinary- a heart attack in front of the television, alone, his corpse only recovered after two weeks passed. he was watching a game show and his last mortal regret was never even learning who won, because he died during the commercials.

[minihawking]

Another one of the mechs from the Lancer game I'm running, a freshly salvaged Genghis Mk. 1 known as.....

Refer to the last post about this mech

[rajingdragon]

Made a couple more 'gami dinos

[fudgecake-charlie]

BUT WANNA DISCO? // WANNA SEE ME DISCO?

pearl is not the most pleased at the new turn of events (this fuckin' guy stole some random dude's face??? and is trying to destroy the city using unknown cosmic powers???? what the fuck, man!)

[monty-glasses-roxy]

It could be kind of funny if it takes like a week and a half or something before Roxy realises Cassie is, in fact, her new technician's daughter.

Like, he has to work and Cassie hangs out in the Pizzaplex and they always meet at the entrance when they go home so it just so happens that Roxy hasn't seen them in the same room together before. And also, didn't notice they had the same last name. Cassie's dad had mentioned her to Roxy and asked her to keep an eye out for her, and she's been convinced she just hasn't found the kid yet but nah they've been hanging out since before Roxy even met her dad lmao

Thought it could be extra funny if Roxy found her on her birthday, crying about no one showing up while her dad was off working (he was gonna join them later on) and immediately took her to have fun in every attraction ever, including the closed ones. This is just what Roxy does, so she thinks nothing of it and hey! She's hung out with Cassie before! She considers her a good friend already so this'll be fun for both of them!

The problem is now Cassie's dad can't fucking find her and according to every other animatronic, she's with Roxy but Roxy isn't answering his god damn messages so where the fuck did they go?!

[citrine-elephant]

currently thinking about how simmons' jealousy would have played a part in IF leon and helena had been apprehended

but especially if this occurred after he got all ugly

this is to say, i'm broken after drawing leon's scars that simmons totally gave him when he whipped the shit out of him with his bone spike things. guh im still a sucker for aeon with his ass doing that.