#like back up vocals is one thing but the main thing should be the live vocals it should always be louder the other thing should

[echoesofadream]

backtracks are so weird. like yes I can hear you singing live wow so good of you but literally the studio version is playing if not over you than at least with you as loudly like? two people singing at once? when and why did this become so normalized like. did bts use to do this on their concert I cant remember id be so disappointed if they did but I cant remember that they did and pang in my chest I miss them

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how things should be.

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour. or lack thereof, you suppose — he’s digested far too many curses for his taste buds to remain intact.

or so he says, anyhow.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone; a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you.

”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile — one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. getō gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table; studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch. exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense — to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before. beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance — if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking any illusion of peace before you can find solace in it. 

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread — any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes and inhales a breath. ”because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 

then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, like this, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine your fingers, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over. 

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down. everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 

(he’s yours, again. and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 

[barbiexgirl]

Anorexia is the patriarchy’s perfect way to make you lobotomize yourself.

It puts the blame on you, you’re weak for letting the standards break you and you’re doing it to yourself. No one forced you to starve right? Those beauty standards are coming back for a reason. If this is your first run with eating disorders let me tell you you’re just as lifeless as a woman who went through lobotomy. I wasn’t able to study, I lost all my friends and I wasn’t able to enjoy a single thing in life. I was full of rage and hatred towards the world and myself but nothing else.

I struggled my whole life, thanks to my mom I got the “Eastern European special” growing up. I developed anorexia when I was 11.

“I wish you had your dad’s blond hair and blue eyes like your sister. You should dye your hair. You look better than your other sister tho, she just looks too much like her dad. (She has a different dad.)”

“Your sister is so much taller than you.”

“I was only 45kgs when I was pregnant with you.”

“YOU BETTER EAT SOMETHING, WHAT ARE PEOPLE GOING TO SAY ABOUT ME IF YOU DIE YOU STUPID BITCH???”

Girlie even kept the receipts, and showed me that she really was that thin. She ate less than what a toddler needs her whole life, she wrecked her hormones and her body by the time she was 45 and let me tell you she didn’t stay beautiful. This “slavic doll” trend is disgusting and it actually ages you rapidly. Kids who follow this new pro ana content are obliviously just as troubled as I was but god you really don’t want to grow up with these standards. Not like patriarchy spares you but a mom like this is just an added bonus on the mental illness lottery. We did the same thing with kpop idols but they’re abused as well to look like that. Funny how the inspiration always comes from countries like South Korea or Eastern Europe where patriarchy is absolutely thriving.

It’s all fun and games until your hair is falling out in chunks or you’re still doing this at 25. Your body just doesn’t take it as easy at it used to. When I recovered this time stomach acid burnt my throat and my vocal cords when I started eating, I wasn’t able to talk for days.

Back when I was still in my teens I never understood why older women just “get ugly as time goes on” and I promised myself that I’d “never let myself go.” Now that I’ve been recovered for a few months again I see that they’re not getting ugly, they were never ugly. They just know something you don’t. That you are so much more than your beauty, “beauty” that’s not even real. It’s all photoshop and botox and plastic surgery. Your body’s main job is to keep you alive to be able to ACTUALLY LIVE YOUR LIFE. To eat healthy food, to have fun with your friends, to study, to be a smart woman who knows herself to the core and doesn’t let stupid ideas break her.

[rin-solo]

I love. LOVE. Get In the Water

It's one of the objectively best songs in the musical; I will die on this hill.

Poseidon was always, despite being pretty much the main antagonist of EPIC, a really underdeveloped character in my opinion. He just needed a little more nuance, and the fact that one (+ kind of one more) song managed to add so much to his characterization pretty much exclusively through subtext and implications is incredibly impressive writing. Because it did!

At the start, he's yet again playing games with Odysseus, the way he did in Ruthlessness. In both songs, he could kill him easily at any point, yet he chooses not to for the sake of playing games. In Ruthlessness, this becomes his own hubris as it leads to Odysseus escaping.

If you listen closely, at the start of GITW he already sounds slightly different. He's still trying to keep up this "God of Ruthlessness" front that he's so proud of, but he's no longer more or less carefree the way he was in Ruthlessness. He's been obsessing over this feud for ten years, and even if he would never admit it, it's actually clear just from his voice that he really is tired of it too. Not in the sense of it emotionally draining him the way it probably does Odysseus, but in the sense that it's a bother, a loose end in his life, a book that he finally wants to slam shut.

But he still has a reputation to uphold, and he still cannot close this book until Odysseus is dead, so he keeps up the game. Instead of just killing him, he's taunting him to kill himself. He might associate the idea of just striking him down with a sort of loss, like then he'd have to get his hands dirty. Then he's rambling about killing his people, his family. He's provoking Odysseus on purpose, likely trying to get him to snap back, to hate and fear him the way that Poseidon would think any mortal who has consumed this much of his time should. In his eyes, Odysseus deserves nothing less than to curse him with his last breath as his "darkest moment," the god who became the bane of his life.

And Odysseus replies, of all things, with ... sympathy.

Honestly, I don't blame Poseidon for being speechless for three full seconds. He literally just threatened to gauge Telemachus' eyes out the way Odysseus did with Polyphemus, and this absolute madlad of a man replies with an acknowledgment that he (might have) caused Poseidon pain too.

Now, I don't really think Poseidon was particularly hurt over Polyphemus' loss, or hurting in any way in that moment (if he were, I highly doubt he'd still be playing games, and he would've mentioned his son as opposed to speaking about his reputation.) But just the fact that Odysseus acknowledges that he might be hurting too is probably something Poseidon hasn't heard in ... who knows how long? His family is the Olympians. I don't think I have to say more.

It's actually more of a genuine apology than Odysseus' explanation in Ruthlessness ... (even though that was also a perfectly fine apology by Greek standards, as far as I'm aware.) Now he doesn't say "sorry" because he's still not sorry for hurting Polyphemus, since he still needed to do that in order to escape. But he expresses regret over the pain he caused in a more genuine way than ever.

I am convinced that Poseidon is utterly unfamiliar with sympathy or mercy. He's lived by his "Ruthlessness is mercy" motto for centuries, and he doesn't know anything else. No one would try to teach him something different. The other gods all live by this logic, even if he's the most vocal about it considering he seems to have made it his whole personality. Mortals wouldn't dare to question Poseidon in the first place. And barely anyone would be willing to treat someone with kindness who is in turn treating everyone around them with ruthlessness.

It's very likely that Poseidon hasn't encountered anyone like this until Odysseus. Ruthlessness is simply how he treats people and also how he expects to be treated back. The fact that Odysseus doesn't, the fact that instead of hating, fearing, or cursing him, he acknowledges that they have both hurt each other and that it doesn't lead anywhere to still pursue vengeance, must have triggered Poseidon in an unprecedented way.

To him, this was probably the most outrageous thing Odysseus could have said in that moment. And it throws him off so much that he is genuinely speechless, and then simply replies, "I can't." ... his most genuine-sounding line in the whole musical.

I cannot stress enough how much it threw me off to hear this line; in the best way imaginable, it doesn't sound like Poseidon. It sounds almost vulnerable. Almost human. Because he is genuinely at a loss so much that he forgets to put up his "wrathful god" facade for just one second. Standing ovation to Steven Rodriguez for his whole performance, but especially this part.

And then Odysseus goes all out to say something even more outrageous: "Maybe you could learn to forgive?"

... Which is when Poseidon snaps.

Kind of understandable, honestly. There's this mortal whom he has likely fantasized about seeing pleading, hate-filled, and terrified, cowering before him for ten years now ... telling him that he ought to learn something. Even hijacking his own motif and his instrument in order to turn it on its head, "defile" it if you will.

This f*cking mortal pr*ck took his own "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" catchphrase and turned it into forgiveness ... Of course, Poseidon is no longer hesitating; of course, he is no longer concerned with getting his hands dirty or not. He yells "DIE!" and unleashes his ultimate move (which is really overkill for simply killing a mortal if you think about it) ... But he does it anyway because this time he genuinely means it.

... That, and I am also convinced he jumps to that in order to simply shut Odysseus up, fearing what he might do or think if he lets him go on. Because you cannot tell me that Odysseus didn't actually reach him for just one moment. He was far too thrown off guard, far too vulnerable in that one second. That moment of kindness did something to him, and he hated it. He also probably didn't trust himself to be able to keep listening to Odysseus speak like that. So, he abandons his (still very technically feasible!) blackmail/intimidation and just straight-up kills him.

This simple exchange (my favorite moment in the whole musical, actually) tells us so much about both of these characters that it makes me want to skitter and squeal in excitement.

Here is Odysseus—the very same one whom Poseidon specifically tried to teach ruthlessness—becoming the first person in a long time to offer him sympathy despite how Poseidon himself showed him nothing but ruthlessness. And then one song later, here is Odysseus showing him the consequences of not accepting said sympathy.

Six Hundred Strike and what Odysseus does to Poseidon would've not hit the same, in my opinion, if he hadn't made this offer, if he hadn't given Poseidon this way out, even if no one watching genuinely expected it to work (probably not even Odysseus himself.)

Six Hundred Strike is not Odysseus exacting vengeance If GITW proved anything about Odysseus, it's that he does not want vengeance. He wants all of the hatred and pain to be over, to the point where he is willing to let go of, and I am inclined to say forgive Poseidon for what he's done to him. Six Hundred Strike is simply Odysseus teaching him this lesson that Poseidon couldn't have learned in any other way, because he has proven in GITW that he genuinely does not speak any language besides that of ruthlessness (more on that in this essay!)

It's just the perfect representation of how Odysseus has now finally learned the balance between mercy and ruthlessness, which seems to be the core theme of the musical: Both have their time and place; one simply has to be willing to act in both ways and know when to use either. No one extreme is the solution. I am genuinely exhilarated that Odysseus finally seemed to have figured out that it's been both all along.

[777gojosgf]

THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: reader x ex!satorugojo

IN WHERE :: satoru gojo is indeed the smallest man who ever lived who has fucked it up with you beyond repair.

a/n: this hurts ANGST very ooc!satoru but i just wanted to write something like this for a while. and umm welcome back to me i guess…

ONE THING ABOUT YOU is that you didn’t like to give a show. no, instead you were always thinking about others and how they would feel if you were to say something. additionally you hated confrontation and especially those joined by others. it just wasn’t your style and added upon the anxiety you already felt on the daily basis due to the rocky situation you had with satoru.

you hadn’t asked him where he had been for the past week because you didn’t want to know. even though deep inside you knew that you knew enough.

there was no denying that he cheated on you with your best friend.

and perhaps that should have hurt you the most, the fact that he threw away a four year relationship just because he gave in to his desire. but it was the disrespect that hurt you the most. where did he get the nerve to treat you like that? you hadn’t done anything but love him truly for who he was and the smile he brought upon your face every single day. but you were afraid that those days had officially come to an end.

sometimes good things don’t last.

ever since shoko told you the news, you weren’t sure how to go about it. if you would wait until the both of you were back in the apartment you shared. where the memories and promises you had created with each other haunted the very same hallway where you broke down after seeing the photos of him and your best friend.

good riddance.

you whispered to yourself. good riddance.

but why was it so hard to believe?

and so, you hadn’t realized where your feet had brought you until you had found yourself on the grounds of jujutsu high. the anger that resumed inside of you made it seem as if there was a curse of a special grade roaming the area and the students knew better than to ask how you were doing. in fact, you looked terrifying.

your vision turned red and the only thing you could focus on was the terrible heartache that screamed for vengeance and an explanation.

for so far he was able to give you one.

the sound of the main door slamming in the teacher’s lounge echoed through the entire building, but unluckily for him his friends were there too.

but you didn’t care. not anymore.

because you have cared, you have been caring for years and apparently it didn’t mean shit.

the white haired male leaned against the wall as he watched you walk up to him, and some would say that he begged the gods above that he would make it out alive.

“baby—“ he started, reaching out to touch you like he always used to do but when you stood still in your tracks and flinched away from him…

he knew.

“am i a joke to you?” your question that desperately demanded an answer only made the entire room go quieter than it was before. the tension wavered through the air and he didn’t know what to say. perhaps because he didn’t expect you to ask him that out of all the things you could have.

why did you cheat? did you cheat?

but instead of that, you asked him if you were a joke to him.

“what do you mean? maybe we shouldn’t do this here—“ he once again miserably failed at trying to start his explanation because you took a step forward and all the words evaporated from his mouth while his vocal chords estranged. he didn’t dare to say a word.

“are you fucking kidding me, satoru? are you embarrassed that everyone is watching? because you didn’t care that you would embarrass me after fucking my friend, did you?”

you felt tears prickling in your eyes but not because you were sad. no, those tears had spilled in your apartment. instead, these were tears made out of pure anger. formed deep inside from the quiet resentment of him that you had tried to ignore and endure for days.

your hands trembled, “did you think i wouldn’t find out? do you believe i’m an idiot, is that all that i am to you? a pushover, a people pleaser?”

he didn’t say anything. there were tears streaming down his face as he knew that he had lost the one thing that mattered to him. four years of someone who loved him for who he was, and not for who he had to be.

someone who would have died for his sins.

and he threw it all away.

he knew that he couldn’t say anything that would change this and the way you felt, instead he was afraid that he would only ruin it. so he decided to take it.

“answer me.”

that made him snap out of his trance and he shake his head, stepping forward and meeting your eyes that were so full of fury he started to wonder if you weren’t a stranger.

“i fucked up, okay? i know that i did, and i cannot change anything that i did. and i know that it wasn’t right.” satoru muttered defeated.

but the only thing he heard was your laugh. it wasn’t a laugh he recognized. and it certainly wasn’t the one you let out the times before the two of you would go to bed but not before he made you laugh.

and at that same exact moment the two of you wondered the same thing.

do i know you at all?

but only one had the right to ask that question, of course.

“is that all you have to say for yourself? you can’t even apologize? because i have tried to figure out why you did what you did and if it was my fucking fault, satoru. after everything, i wondered if it was my fault. and i cannot believe-“ a sob made its way through your words and it was hard to keep the tears in now, but you had to. “i can’t believe this.”

“and i cannot grasp why you would. you deserve fucking prison for the way you have treated me these past weeks, making me wonder if i was the problem as to why you would ignore me in our apartment. ours! and i so desperately hate you for it.”

he leaned to touch your cheek, his hand rising and caressing it softly and you hated it that you let him.

“y/n, please. i can’t lose you. i am so sorry for what i did, but i can live with you hating me. i just can’t live without you.” his words embedded your skin and trailed up to your brain, almost planting it seeds and giving into his words,

but you had grown and knew better.

“maybe you should have decided that before you decided to throw this all away. i’m sure you have had a good laugh too considering the way you kicked the fucking stage lights. but you’re still performing, aren’t you? i would have given up my life for you every time. any fucking time. and while i was making promises and thinking about what the future upholds for us, you were busy giving into your desires.” your breathing had surprisingly calmed and the rational version of you had finally asserted itself into your veins as you wiped away the tears from your face and took three steps back.

“tell me. was it all worth it? was she good?”

what?

satoru couldn’t decide whether you actually asked him that or if his imagination was having its own little fun with him. but no, you truly asked him.

“baby don’t say stuff like that you know—“

“if you ever call me that again i will spoon the fucking six eyes out of you. now, tell me.”

fortunately the white haired male was wiser than to answer that question so he remained silent. his tears made its work onto his shirt and the crystal blue eyes that you had longed for since you laid eyes upon them, were now vibrant red.

you knew that he was feeling the same heartache like you were. the only difference however was that you were glad that he was.

“fine.“

and with that, you turned around to walk away.

but not before you stopped, turned around and threw the one thing that had mattered.

he caught the engagement ring mid-air that was a gojo family heirloom.

satoru swore that he loved you but the clues weren’t to be found.

perhaps you died dead at the altar.

“i’m leaving tonight.” you announced but it fell upon deaf ears and you let out a sigh before making your way back to the shared apartment leaving satoru behind at jujutsu high.

literally and figuratively.

after moving out the same exact day, having only taken a few personal belongings, you immediately booked the first flight out of tokyo.

that was the last time you ever saw him again.

©777gojosgf

[timbit-robin-art]

i loooove your band au it's so cute!! do they have a band name? why did the O5 have a falling out and what did jean, bobby, and warren play? i'm imagining they get their first gig at harry's hideaway because he graciously allows them to set up in the corner and play as long as they don't bother anyone lol. rogue and gambit both go (rogue drives them and helps them set up, gambit goes to cheer on storm) and that's how they meet

I’m glad people enjoy my silly band idea. I unfortunately have no idea what they would call themselves, but I’m sure some ridiculous ideas were proposed from each member. I’d love to hear ideas.

Ah, the O5… I think they split up because of a combination of reasons. 1.) Worthington Senior urging Warren to return home as Worthington Industries’ heir. 2.) Jean going to a prep school so she can graduate early be the professor’s intern in mutant politics. 3.) Hank’s plans to intern at Stark Industries, which he ultimately doesn’t go through with after he transforms. Of course, there would be petty drama on the side that would further strain things, but those three would probably be the main reasons.

I think Hank looking into Stark Industries would be a big contributor because Bobby would feel betrayed. They promised to stay together, and after Bobby learned about Warren and Jean’s situations, he at least thought that he would have Hank. So, to catch Hank researching about a full time internship would really hurt.

I also think that Warren would initially do everything in his power not to return home until he learns about Jean’s plans. He thinks she’s only doing this because it’s what the professor wants, but then he learns Jean is actually really looking forward to this. I also think he’s bitter about Scott’s encouragement of Jean’s plans, because it’s splitting their group apart. And then when Bobby and Hank finally have their confrontation, he feels like trying to ignore his fate is childish and he should just give in to his father’s plans.

They all used to live at the institute together, but then Warren returned home and Jean is abroad at her prep school. It’s very tense between Scott, Hank, and Bobby, but Scott and Hank eventually making up again probably makes Bobby get over his hurt. He didn’t really take the band as seriously as the others; he just wanted to hang out with his friends. Bobby would later show up to the band’s gigs as support, and who knows… maybe Warren and Jean would, as well.

Scott played the drums, Jean was the pianist, Hank was guitar, Warren was vocals (and maybe another guitar player), and Bobby was bass.

Back to the current band set up, Gambit 100% comes to their performances, which eventually leads him to meet Rogue;

Gambit is already the band’s uncle, so it makes sense that he hits it off with the band’s new aunt. Mr. Logan found Gambit suspicious at first (and to be fair, Mr. Logan is at least 80% sure he saw Gambit pickpocket someone from across the room), but when he sees how much Gambit cares for Storm, he begrudgingly lets go of his suspicions. He still keeps a watchful eye over Gambit and Rogue’s interactions, though. Rogue’s still his child.

Bahhh, so many fun ideas with this. I think it would be really cute if other X-Men are thrown into the mix. They may not be a part of the band, but they still contribute to the chaos of the private school (I think it would be funny if Piotr was an art club member who does art for the band, and Sean was one of their sound crew guys. Any ideas for other X-Men?).

[annabelle--cane]

Hey so I'm not good at subtext and I saw you posting about ep 200 of TMA being awesome. I've listened to it a few times and I'm mostly...confused? I don't understand what happened

(I mean, I get what Martin did to Jon, but nothing other than that)

Would you mind explaining why it's impactful to you?

honestly the main standout thing that makes it really shine to me is the soundscaping and vocal editing, and I've seen people take that as an indirect snide comment about the writing before but it really isn't, the entire scene in the panopticon just sounds gorgeous. the distortion and static on jon's voice, the underscoring of the statement, the way jon and martin's dialogue pops out from the sounds of the crumbling tower, it's just. aaaaaaaaaa. I find it really pleasant to listen to, if you've only listened through speakers then I'd 100% recommend trying it with headphones, it is simply very pretty and well made.

from the story side, it's beat after beat of ultimate catharsis for threads and arcs that have been set up for the whole show.

jon going ham and just really brutally killing jonah with his own hands, no supernatural influence, finally fulling snapping and, it sounds like, gutting him like a fish. it's just about the most lively and impassioned we've heard him all season, and, as far as anyone could deserve to do such a thing, he really is the person who deserved to get to do it.

jon and martin both betraying each other and making the choices that the whole story has been leading them to. jon has spent years fighting against his internalized idea that he can't trust anyone and he's the only person who's powerful/expendable/knowledgeable enough to make decisions and solve problems, and at last he submits to it and takes matters into his own hands. martin has spent years operating under the assumption that he's unimportant and incapable, and now just as he finally accepts that his choices have meaning, he sets the plan in motion that ends up getting them both killed. and jon has tried so hard to be transparent and show him trust that he underestimates just how willing jon is to go behind his back and disregard the plan completely.

and the fuckign. web lighter. I have a longstanding obsession with the mechanics of fate in tragedy narratives, and this lighter. hhh. so, fate (the web) was guiding jon & co to release the fears, but to jon's knowledge, killing jonah and becoming the pupil should have been his winning move to keep them contained. as far as he was capable of comprehending, he made all the right choices, but fate (the web) (the oppressive forces that govern all of our lives) doesn't play fair, it planned for this and cheated him. because he couldn't remember the lighter. he couldn't remember that he already gave georgie the catalyst for the explosion.

this tells me a few things: the ultimate end of releasing the fears was always going to happen, there was nothing jon could have done, but, technically, he could have adhered to the plan and lived to spend what was left of his life with martin and the rest of his nearest and dearest. but that was never really an option, was it? jon archivist sims would never have made that decision, that's why martin tried and failed to plan around it, that's why the web tried and succeeded to plan around it, it would never have happened differently. jon made his choice, it made no difference except to doom himself and the one he loves, he didn't have to do it, and it was inevitable.

and after all of that, after the web cheated him, he could still have won. he could have survived the tower collapse and kept the fears. but one of his biggest stated motives, over and over, is that he can't stand to lose anyone else, and martin is not immune to burning buildings the way he is. in an inverse to gertrude, at the last moment, he chose the barest chance for martin to survive over his own life and principles and big picture goals. he could cope with being responsible for killing the world in the abstract, but when it came to watching the person he loves most die right before his eyes, he caved and came around to martin's perspective. the other worlds can cope, he wants to save the man he loves.

[lucysarah-c]

Hi, Lucy, Good evening! (our countries are neighbours, so I'm supposing it is evening for you too)

Feel free to don't answer if you don't want to, but, how do you think that would happen if Levi was head over heels for his girlfriend, like, he genuinely thinks she is the love of his life but she grew up in a house with very cheesy and affectionate parents so she just normalizes it as what romantic love means and well… Levi is Levi. She is also very affectionate and a bit clingy and Levi makes it very clear that he hates PDA and even in private he doesn’t act half of clingy as she does, so she starts to think he doesn't really love her and breaks up with him, but without telling him why because she doesn't want to hurt him, but she tells the reason of the breakup for a friend and Levi overhears it.

Do you think he would try to win her over again? Or he would feel offended because he tried his best to be a good partner and she still broke up with him without even communicating?

Thank you for reading anyway, love you!

Hi there! Good evening!

This is such an interesting scenario! If Levi were genuinely head over heels for his girlfriend, thinking she’s the love of his life, but she grew up in a very affectionate household and normalizes that as the standard for romantic love, I think there would definitely be some tension. Levi is, well, Levi—he’s not exactly the clingy type, and PDA would probably make him uncomfortable. But if his girlfriend is very affectionate and he’s not reciprocating in the way she’s used to, it’s easy to see how she might start to feel unloved.

If she broke up with him without telling him the reason, I think Levi would be deeply hurt. He’s not one to easily open up or express his feelings, so for him to have fallen in love to that extent would be huge. Hearing through a friend that the breakup happened because she felt he didn’t love her—when in reality, he was just expressing love in his own way—would probably frustrate him. Levi values honesty and straightforwardness, so the lack of communication would likely sting.

Also, and I do think this is important too… imagine how Levi feels? Imagine if someone told you basically that "how you love them its not enough" that your way of being isn't enough… I would honestly be extremely hurt. I can see Levi promising to do an effort of being more vocal about his affection to her but she should ALSO do an effort of understanding him. Imagine constandly living with someone who feels that what you do is not enough?

That being said, I don’t think Levi would feel offended in the sense of holding a grudge or thinking she was unreasonable. He might feel hurt and misunderstood, but I think his love for her would outweigh that. If he truly believed she was the love of his life, I can see him making an effort to win her back. He might not do it in a grand, romantic gesture—because, let’s be real, that’s not Levi—but in his own way, he’d want to make things right. Maybe he’d have a serious conversation with her, explaining his feelings and how he shows love differently. Levi isn’t someone who gives up easily, especially not on someone he cares about deeply.

So, yes, I do think he’d try to win her over again, but it would be in a very Levi way—direct, honest, and with the intention of understanding each other better.

(this is rather funny because it's a whole 4 chapters issue in Holy Ground, my main fic)

Thank you for question! Love you too!

[xxnomadsxx]

I can only imagine your Branch giving the most disturbing gifts to show he cares. Ex:

Floyd: Oh man, I always worried Velvet and Veneer are gonna come back at some point

Branch: *Man, I wanna make him feel better hmm*

Cue the next day:

Branch: Here Floyd, this should make you feel safer (Man is covered in BLOOD and holding an even bloodier box) 😊

Floyd (about to pass out): Oh thanks B… what is it??

Branch: Velvet and Veneers vocal cords 😁 (He genuinely believes this will make him feel better)

Floyd: Oh… thank you Branch (He doesn’t want to reject the gift since it is one of the only occasions Branch has shown any of the brother’s affection)

His gifts only get worst from there. The brothers one time mention what happened to the Bergen that ate Grandma??? Branch puts Chef’s skeleton up in display for them to see that there’s nothing to worry about and that she’s been avenged. Meanwhile , BroZone: 🧍🧍🧍🧍

Poppy mentions that Creek betrayed the entire Troll kingdom??? Oh yeah, he tells the hilarious story about the time he was roasted alive and eaten by the village and even offers Poppy a tuff of his hair as proof.

He associates threats being eliminated as comforting and so he believes proof of that are the best gifts, he has good intentions but wtf he’s gotta work on better love languages.

anyways yeah BroZone loses their shit every time this happens but don’t have the heart to tell Branch to stop since it’s one of his main ways to show he cares about them and they’ll take anything at this point.

Honestly no one in the village is good at getting appropriate gifts ESPECIALLY Branch (he’s been living with the feral trolls(?) for years and their love language is violence) so you’re gonna have to forgive them on their very gruesome gifts.

All these situations are basically canon now because the idea is just so funny to me that Branch just pulled out all these corpse parts just to be like “don’t worry you’re safe😁”. Every time he does this his brother are just going through every emotion. It’s sweet that he did the gesture for them but also terrifying when you actually think about it (when he’s left the room, at least two of them puked and Floyd passed out four times) When Floyd is given the vocal cords as a gift the only thing keeping him conscious is the adoration that his baby brother got him a gift, but once Branch left the room, he immediately put the box in the closet and proceeded to puke on the floor. (Originally Branch got the vocal cords after he found out velvet and veneer took Floyd, but I find the idea of him going back for round two just so he can get a trophy for Floyd to tell him he was “safe” even better)

When he showed the skeleton to the brothers they were just too shocked to actually understand what was happening and kind of just went numb for a few minutes, all they could do was force themselves to focus on how happy Branch was so they wouldn’t have a meltdown.(when they later registered what they saw they just cried) When Poppy brought up how angry she is at Creek and how mad she is that he up and left again instead of staying to face his problems!! Branch laughed and said “OH, don’t worry we handled it😁” and he pulled out a tuff of Creeks hair, and hilariously explained the “funny story” of Creeks demise.

Everyone at this point just stops talking about people they don’t like out of fear that Branch Is just gonna come out with their body at any second. They like the gestures of the gift. It’s just the fact that they’re basically just corpse parts in a box that is handed to them with a smile 😊 saying, “I hope you like it” (he eventually stops when explained how messed up it is)

[pernesophe]

Kaji Takes Care of Timid Reader Who has a Vasovagal Reaction

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

TW: mentions of blood, fluff, angst

Synopsis: you cut your finger and have a bad vasovagal reaction, and Kaji helps you recover.

If you enjoy reading this then check out my ML with other Kaji fics, and thank you for being here! Here is my Main Wind Breaker Master List.

One of the many things Kaji has always appreciated about you, whether it be a silent or vocal appreciation, is the fact that you’ve never been squeamish around blood. Sure, when the two of you met, you had been bitten and bleeding, but still you weren’t squeamish about the red liquid staining your clothes. Many of his friends noticed too, especially when you were helping Furin members patch themselves up after a big brawl and your face expression was as unfazed as if you were running regular errands. Kaji had watched you bustle around - bandaging cuts and slinging arms - with a prideful glint in his eye. “Nerves of Steel,” Enomoto mused with an approving nod when you dropped a blood soaked rag into a bucket, and picked up a new clean white one. Your face suddenly cracked into a wide grin as one of the first years - dripping blood from his nose haphazardly onto your shoulder - comes up and starts cracking wise about the fight. His face twisted into mock offense that quickly devolved into boisterous laughter when you told him he should avoid getting his nose broken next time. So, understandably, Kaji was left with the impression that you are unbothered by blood - until the day you proved him wrong.

Kaji sat on your couch in the living room, the back of it facing the kitchen where you are busy making dinner for the two of you as he is scrolling for something to watch while you two eat. Suddenly he hears a sharp yelp from the kitchen.

“Bob?” Using his pet name for you as he calls over his shoulder, concern lacing his voice. All he hears in return is a panicked whimper as he swiftly crosses the room to be by your side in the kitchen. When he sees you holding your wrist lightly with your other hand with a small slice running along the side of your index, and a thin trickle of blood dripping into the sink below - he almost scolds you to get a bandaid.

“Ka-Kaji… I’m sorry… I feel not good…” The reprimand dies on the tip of his tongue as he hears your small voice warble over to him. That’s when he noticed that your breathing was shallow and you were slightly swaying, like you were trying not to faint. Stepping closer slightly as he positions himself in your narrow kitchen so he can catch you if your knees suddenly give way.

”Y/N? What’s wrong?” Urging to explain in the gentlest timbre, despite his creeping fear. It's a way of speaking that he truly didn’t think he was capable of, until he met you. Bracing an arm around your lower back to stop your swaying as a sheen of cold sweat breaks out over your face and drips down to your collarbones. Then, he grips your injured hand in his gently as he inspects it for any dire damage that he may have just not seen yet. Worry pricks up his spine as he tries to piece together what could possibly be wrong.

”I-I’m not good with… blood.” If your lips hadn’t been ghostly white when you uttered those words he would have laughed at you and denied it to be true. After the words hang in the air for a moment, your body finally sways far enough that he has to catch you and securely hold you against his torso before you tumble to the floor. ”Can you help me to the bathroom please?” Asking timidly, the feeling of embarrassment and shame coursing hot in your veins for needing to lean on him like that, but Kaji was unfazed - carrying you directly to the tiny hallway bathroom and setting you on the floor in front of the toilet.

”Are you going to be sick?” Lifting your chin gently as he poses the question, so he can peer into your eyes, but you lean your entire side into the cool basin of the tub as your whole body begins trembling. Despite the placid expression on his face, Kaji could feel his pulse spike and had half a mind to call Kusumi or Hiragi to ask if he should just take you to the hospital.

”I’m sorry - I don’t know… Could you get me some water pl-please?” Stuttering in a tiny voice due to your clattering teeth as you make no attempt to move away from the tub. Wordlessly, he goes back into the main area of your apartment to retrieve water, a hair tie, a cool rag, and a first aid kit. The prickly anxiety mounting in his chest doesn’t allow him to be soft right now as he forces himself to assume a methodical approach - making a list of items and steps he needs to follow for you to feel better.

When he returns he finds you laying on the tile floor completely now - curled into the fetal position, somehow looking even paler than before, and your clothes looked dark from how much you’re sweating now. For one bewildered moment Kaji remembers when he was literally dripping in blood weeks ago and you bounded over to him with a big grin - the only indication that you noticed the red liquid was when you handed him a handkerchief and scrunched your nose slightly as you asked him to clean up a bit. Shaking the memory from his mind as he sits down next to you - careful not to touch you too much since you feel like a radiator, and then he lays the cool rag on your forehead. The second the cool cloth meets your boiling head, you emit a whimpering moan out of sheer relief as he moves to start bandaging up your finger.

Eventually, you start to feel okay enough to sit up with your back to the wall next to the tub, facing the toilet with your knees pulled up to your chest. A bandage clung tightly to your finger now, and the cold rag has been discarded to another corner of the room. Kaji holds the cup of water for you and brings the straw to your still white lips.

“Sip.” Directing you in a low tone, laced with slowly ebbing concern as his ashen blue gaze stays glued to your face - waiting for the color to return. Doing as you're told as you take the straw between your lips and drink a small sip, and then you release the straw silently. Another few minutes passed with him directing you when to take small sips, until the water was halfway gone, the color had finally returned to your lips and face, and the cold sweat had finally dried from your forehead. ���Feeling better?” Murmuring softly as he attempts to meet your gaze, but you’re looking down at your toes pressed to the tiled floor -  too embarrassed and ashamed to look him in the eye yet.

“Y-yeah, thank you… and I’m sorry… for-” Mumbling in a muffled voice against your knees. Kaji lightly pokes your cheekbone, just enough to pull you out of your shame spiral. In the time that he’s gotten to know you, he’s found that it is something that is quick, easy and nonverbal enough for him to be able to break your concentration. Slowly, you look him in the eye, and though he looks a little stern, the concern on his face was more apparent.

“Stop apologizing. It’s not like you had any control over that, and you obviously didn’t want it to happen.” After you finally meet his gaze, he speaks firmly but there’s quite a bit of tenderness there too. Nodding slowly in return, but you don’t have much to offer verbally at the moment. Next, he asks if there’s anything else you need, and though you don’t intend to, your eyes shift down to your sweat soaked clothes in embarrassment, and then to the shower before meeting his gaze again. A small amused smile pulls at the corners of his mouth at your nonverbal communication. 

”Need a shower to reset?” Posing his question in that same tender way as he spoke in the kitchen, and you nod quietly as a blush creeps up to your ears. Kaji rises to his feet and starts the shower so the water can heat up to just a little hotter than lukewarm. “Okay, but not too hot - I don’t need you actually fainting.” Teasing in a mock annoyed tone that makes you giggle at him despite the shame shadowing you still. The tension, and more importantly your embarrassment, dissipates after that. First, he turns his back to you so that you can undress and then get into the shower, and then he takes a seat on the closed toilet lid in case you suddenly feel weak again. Occasionally he’d ask how you’re feeling, or tell you to say something to him so he knows you’re still doing okay - his voice still reverberating traces of concern. As you finished up and he handed you the towel through the curtain, he remained ever The Gentleman - averting his gaze so he didn’t see anything or make you uncomfortable. 

Unfortunately, the more biological side of his brain kept him well fed with shower scenes with him and you… It didn’t help that when you did finally open the curtain, draped loosely in your towel, water dripped from the ends of your bangs and fell into the rivulets of water still streaming down your glistening skin - transforming you into a rendition of Benzaiten appearing from the steam clouds. Kaji’s eyes widened as he was struck with the vision of you looking much more like a goddess than mortal right now. She doesn’t feel well you pervert. Internally, he facepalms as his more rational side takes over and he reaches out a hand to help you step over the tub. Guiding your towel draped form from the bathroom to your bedroom, where you stand behind the closet door and dress as he sits on your bed with a hand covering his eyes for good measure. It always surprised you how comical Kaji’s genuine attempts at consideration were. 

Finally, once you’re on the couch and under a fluffy blanket with a full bottle of water, take out on the way, and what you had planned to make for dinner cleaned up by Kaji - he sits in the corner of the couch so you can snuggle against his chest. Putting on some movie that the two of you have seen about a million times now and wrapping an arm securely around your shoulders, so it can play in the background and he can focus on you.

”So… I thought you were okay with blood? I mean I’ve never seen you have that kind of response when you see my blood?” Kaji begins - careful in choosing his words, and speaking with great care to not embarrass you further - his gaze bearing no judgment.

”I am okay with blood… just not… mine…” Speaking slowly in a shameful tone as if you’re revealing some dirty secret. It’s not like it’s some big deal, or that you thought Kaji wouldn’t like you anymore because of it. It is just so embarrassing to you that a literal paper cut can bring you to your knees, especially when your boyfriend and all of his peers laud your ability to handle blood so well. Kaji asks some more questions - gently and still bearing no judgment - and you explain to him what a vasovagal reaction is and that it only happens when you’re hurt in a nonfatal way - like cutting a finger while making dinner - which only makes it more embarrassing to you. Surprisingly - though not really, considering his relationship with shame - Kaji handles your embarrassment around the whole thing really well. He’s clear and thorough when assuring you that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, because it’s something you literally have no control over. Even going as far to say that when it happens again, that he’ll be better prepared next time.

After your little ordeal, and the long talk, you were exhausted to the bone. Which is pretty normal after having a reaction like that, so Kaji let you sleep on him until the take out arrived, which is when he gingerly scooped you up and laid your head on the arm of the couch while he grabbed the food at the door. You were woken up with a soft kiss on your forehead from Kaji and the take out already laid out on the coffee table for the two of you, and a much more interesting movie set to play on the TV. 

The story playing on the screen - a tearful romantic comedy - had captured your interest completely, but Kaji had chosen something of little interest to him so he doesn’t get distracted. Cerulean orbs drift to your giggling form over the next hour and a half as he takes in the life that’s returned to your eyes, the rosy color blooming in your cheeks, and your steady hands when you grab his wrist during a particularly funny or emotional part in the movie. The prickly anxiety that had crept up his spine and filled his chest cavity finally dissipates as you take his arm, wrap it around your shoulders, and snuggle into his side for the rest of the movie. It wasn’t hard to notice that he wasn’t watching the movie at all, just you. Securely tucked against his lithe torso, Kaji dips his head to press his nose to the top of your head and inhale the sweet scent of your shampoo. The last dredges of fear tremble out through his muscles as he draws you even nearer and pulls your legs to him so they’re draped over his lap, and though you don’t mention it, you notice that he keeps his nose pressed into your hair and eyes closed through the rest of the movie.

Much later that same evening, after you’ve fallen asleep next to him in bed, Kaji stays up a few hours later just researching vasovagal reactions - what can cause them, and the best ways to help someone experiencing one. Ever since meeting you, he had never wondered whether he was strong enough to protect you or not, but tonight - just like the first time you two met when you were in shock and bleeding terribly - he felt the clutches of fear as he scrambled to figure out what he could do to help. Meanwhile, from the moment you entered his life you took everything in stride - even going as far as attending First Aid classes just in case something went really wrong, and educating yourself on trauma responses just so you could support him better. 

It struck him then that he wanted - no, needed - to be able to offer you more than just the strength in his fists. For once in his life, he felt like he could trust himself enough to unclench his hands and really hold someone. To care for someone… Now all he wanted was to learn what he can do for you with those unfurled hands as one scrolled through “Vasovagal Syncope: Symptoms, Causes and Treatments” on his phone and the other held you securely tucked into his side. Only pausing in his research when your cheek shifts on his chest as you drowsily murmur, “Kaji go to sleep…” to peer down at your still shut eyes and slightly scrunched brow.

“In a moment, my love...” Murmuring sweetly as he presses a chaste kiss to your bangs before bookmarking the pages, locking his phone, and setting it on the table. You’re already drifting off to sleep, so the new pet name doesn't register in your tired mind, nor do your sealed eyes catch the way that his gaze exudes the spoken emotion as he peers down at your sleeping form. If any god were a fly on your wall at this precise moment, there’s no doubt they would be filled with unquenchable envy. Adoration is etched deeply into the planes of Kaji’s face as he looks upon you with such an unfathomable warmth in his arctic eyes - he could easily be mistaken for some famously obscure painting of a devotee in the middle of worshiping his own personal deity.

[or0ch1maru]

hello Cj! I hope you've been doing well! I'm sorry that you've been working so hard this past weekend :( I hope you rest well and get some time to unwind and do smth fun!

I LOOVED your headcanons of snuggling/cuddling with kakuzu🩷 can I request a hidan version?

hello my pretty bby♡︎I’ve been having a lovely few days off thank you, relaxing and catching up on some stuff. Just took a hot ass shower to help my muscles after the gym. And of course, let’s get into it🫵🏻

18+ MINORS, and ageless blogs DNI. Short blurb of sex w Hidan

•

-Hidan is similar to his partner in ways he treats and cherishes his woman

-he is both vocal and physical about his love for you. His main way is through sex. Leaving bite marks and hickeys in places people can see them, your neck, collarbones, thighs, even leaving scars from his teeth along your neck, wrists and arms. Just so people know you belong to him

-he’s huge on consent, especially since he’s a rough lover. He doesn’t make love, he fucks, HARD

-he’s loud about it too, tellin’ you how much he loves you and your pretty cunt, how he could live like this inside you, how pretty you are and how lucky he is to be the only one to have you this way

-where you go, he goes

-if anyone gives him weird looks about being glued to your hip, he gives them an even nastier look if he doesn’t straight up tell them to fuck off and mind their business

-but back to touch, he’s got to have a hand on you. Whether it’s playing with your hair, hand in your back pocket, or the small of your back. Or walking with his fingers intertwined through your belt loop

-even when you two are sitting on the couch around the other members, his arm wrapped around you, resting gently on top of your breast.

-or wrapping around your neck, no squeezing, just resting against your delicate, scarred skin

-when you rest between his legs, your back against him, his hand casually cups over your pussy, even when he’s not trying to do anything sexual. He just loves touchin’ you

-when you two are alone in your shared room, he’s like your own weighted blanket, he’ll lay on top of you, watching his positions so he doesn’t crush or hurt you

-he loves skin to skin

-you two will just hang out and cuddle naked, he’ll have you sitting in his lap, calloused hands resting on the soft flesh of your hips. Admiring your form

-taking in all your scars, any form of blemishes, doesn’t care about acne or if you’re chubby, he goes crazy when he sees your stretch marks

-he’ll caress every part of you, especially the things you’re most insecure about. Hidan will kiss you head to two, telling you how beautiful you are to him

-sees you as a goddess

-one that deserves to be worshipped, gifted, and treated like one should

-another thing Hidan includes in your cuddles is deep, raw, and passionate make out sessions.

-his hands holding the back of your head as he nips at your bottom lip, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while yours does the same to him

-now, not every time ends up with sex but when it does, he’s turned into a needy puddle

-begging you to use him, ride him and take him any way you need him

-head thrown back as his hands travel up and down your body, gripping you wherever he can, whines and whimpers falling from his lips as you slam your hips down his girth

-“baby, baby f-fuck. Bein’ so good for ya doll. Please.”

-he begs, not sure what he’s begging for but it just feels right. Just like Kakuzu, he feels like you were made for him, made to take and please him

-but back to the cuddles(may or may not have gotten of track but ya know, can’t help it with him)

-your shared bed has tons of blankets on it, just to make the two of you into burritos when you’re pressed against him

-your hands wrapped around his head as your chests are touching, his hands holding you at the small of your back, keeping your body up against him

-he also likes being little spoon. Feeling your small form pressed against his back while your arm wraps around his torso, holding him to you

-he’ll cup your hand in his, holding it against his chest, letting his heart beat against you, even though you can’t feel it. It gives him a sense of calm, and security

-when you’re on your cycle, (just like his partner, he makes sure your stocked on everything you could need and runs bubble baths for you) but he uses his hand as your personal heater

-he radiates so much warmth that the second his hand touches your lower belly or back, your cramps fade

-have y’all seen any of the videos where a bf will pull down his shirt just to expose his cute lil gf hiding inside

-that’s Hidan. Would love for you to live in his skin lol. The rare times he wears a shirt or hoodie, he holds it open for you to climb into. Smiles to himself when he sees that you’ve fallen asleep in there

-and lastly, on missions, he’ll wrap his cloak around you, engulfing you in his scent and the warmth of his chest

-he’ll walk with you that way for however long either of you please

-which will be the entire trip there and back

[skyeoak]

Tmagp 30 thoughts

Vocal performances all slayed. 10/10

I think there’s a lot of good and bad in the finale! But overall, it feels underbaked. (Or overplotted/overplanned?)

I’ll save my finalized thoughts on the hilltop center to see if it’s developed in further seasons, because uh, hmm. Jonny said in the live drop that carousels of horrors were his favorite to write, but they sure are not realllyyyy my favorite to listen to. They’re kind of thematic scattershot. And yeah, one of my critiques about TMA is that I don’t love how we only rarely see how the fears combine and interact. Having multiple creepy things in a curiosity cabinet -com shopping center doesn’t really solve that problem for me.

The idea of a character turning a blind eye to an obviously creepy job is still interesting, especially in how it parallels the staff of the OIAR. But that’s kinda the start and end of my interest in the custodian? It feels like this story could have been shrunk to 1/3 length and had a better effect. I just feel like this should have been a midseason statement, and the finale could have focused on having some sort of action or tension. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting the finale to have a statement at all, to be structurally in line with early TMA. Maybe a full statement/story from Celia, giving the non-TMA audience some idea of why she thinks there’s nothing to go back to in her universe. Hell. Maybe she could just. Tell Sam, uncompelled. I would have loved to see her try to convince him to jump. Convince him that her new life matters more than his (perceived) failure of one. Instead… this is another episode where I feel like the double meaning titles weigh down what the statement could be. And it’s the season finale.

I wondered early on if the finale for this season would feel more like setup for future seasons, and yep. Yep it did. It just felt like there was this inherent tension between the stakes of the story, which are already at interdimensional travel, and the level of danger it feels like everyone is in. Not to mention how Celia just drops a list of alchemical balance things out of the blue. Magnus Protocol is in a tricky situation: they need to set up a new conflict and new characters, and at the same time, Magpod has already done mega-apocalypse hellscapes and so TMagP might feel the need to go bigger. (Imo I don’t think sequels always need to raise the stakes but I understand that’s industry standard). It’s also tackling alchemy, a notoriously complex subject that’s probably hard to explain to an audience in any way that feels natural. You can’t just throw murder worm lady and screaming main character in the finale and call it a day. There’s a lot going on, less time, and I don’t know if the characterization this season was consistent (/consistently good) enough to hold the full weight of it all.

OKAY, WHELMED THOUGHTS OVER, now for the good! Surprise surprise, it’s all the little character payoffs!

Gwen and Lena’s confrontation was EVERYTHING. Gwen is kicking anthills, and Lena is so content to let her stand in them while the ants crawl up her legs. I won’t lie though, I’m not sure if this plotline will be interesting to me. I think it depends on how fast the OIAR staff can get Gwen to actually be on their side.

Sam deciding to protect Celia by pushing the archivist into the void is SENSATIONAL CHARACTER PAYOFF. (This is my interpretation of the scene, audio was super unclear once again, and there was a line change from transcript to podcast that made this super ambiguous in the actual canon audio.) My poor guy has ZERO self esteem, and still wants to be a hero. He probably realized that if what Celia just told him was true, an archivist could actually kill her on the spot. My guess is that (tma spoilers) this balanced the rift not because Celia replaced her own missing soul (plenty of folks got sent through hilltop road in that same incident) but because an archivist+a person were pulled through to replace Jon and Martin. Truly excited to see where they end up, and if this archivist gets developed more as a character next season. Also the implications of interdimensional balance on what happened at the end of TMA are… interesting.

Oh Alice. Everything in this intricately balanced house of checking up on people and soothing them and deflecting tension with jokes is about to come crashing down. I’m so sorry this is happening to you.

And yes, this is a super lukewarm episode review but I do wanna say I liked this season a lot, and TMAGP is still a cut above a LOT of horror I have read/listened to this year. I’m hoping seasons 2 and 3 will either steer further into a direct TMA sequel, angle OR steer clear and become their own thing. TMAGP is stuck uncomfortably in the middle right now. Just be the good parts of her. But completely new.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Seven

Okay if anyone is super well-versed in the whole northern songs drama, I would LOVE your insights. I haven’t really looked into it, so all I know is they lost it right before the divorce meeting. What happened? What the hell is this? -- “Which includes Paul and John,” “Just about.” “What does that mean?” “No comment.”

The scouse getting thicker and thicker after “Carolina moOOn?” What can I say? I’m a sucker for it.

Paul’s absolute sugar-cookie heart-eyes when George walks in and then Ringo’s high-pitched “Hi Georgie!” Guys. Tone it down! I know you love him. But you just saw him yesterday, and you’ll see him again tomorrow. Oh wait . . . is today the day he quits?

John. If you look at your boyfriend like that while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here.

OMG they’re KISSING! (Live George reaction)

Paul. If you give your boyfriend what he wants while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here. (but literally, John just becomes a maniac, dancing and shouting, the MOMENT Paul goes to talk to George, and Paul’s instantly like “George, what george?”)

This Paul/George fight is, boiled down, literally just Paul being paranoid and anal and George trying to reassure him. “It’s not passe, it’s just a chord . . . yeah, but some drainies suit different occasions.”

“You need Eric Clapton.” “You need George Harrison.” John wasn’t here to be cute when George walked in, so he’s making up for it now.

“If you vamp, then it takes away from his vamping.” He says to the lead guitarist. Rolling my eyes so hard right now. See, the problem is, Paul loves George. But he’s IN love with John.

Literally, a montage of them raw-dogging it on the ground would be less gay than this insanity.

Poor baby. I would’ve quit a long time ago. Good for you.

I love John’s angsty guitar and torn-up vocals post-george.

And the minute her number one hater is gone, my girl gets on a mic! Way to be, honestly. And here’s the thing. Paul and Ringo (and obviously John) love it! There should’ve been a Beatles-Ono colab on a helter-skelter type track. Would’ve killed.

Paul swinging around on that scaffolding and me doing cartwheels in the bathroom between LSAT sections. ADHD besties!

John when George quits: “If he doesn’t come back by Tuesday we get Clapton in” (which he obviously doesn’t fully mean) VS John’s reaction when Paul misses one session: sprinting down the road and climbing a wall and screaming at him

Yoko sure does know how to cater to a fearful-anxious attachment. “John, John, John, Joooooooohhhhhhhnnnn!”

Literally Mo, marry me immediately! My kingdom for a kiss! She’s literally soo beyond gorgeous, I’m dying. Okay sorry I’ll be done now.

Men are the WORST! But who is making her laugh like that? Ringo? Is she looking off in the direction of the band? I can’t tell.

Another rare Paul feminist moment! Woop! “A7, D7, G7. Get ‘em off over the weekend and you’re in.”

“So, cats and kittens. What we gonna do?” . . . “Catch up! Cats and kittens. Don’t get left behind.” ???? There have got to be so many secret jabs on RAM for John to hate it so much that we just don’t understand. Is this one of them? Was this a saying of theirs?

Okay, good job. Now that the band is here, Mo isn’t being fucking mean-girled out of the circle. Also, Ringo sits by his wife, John by his girlfriend, and Paul by his daddy. As they should.

“The maresey beat awords for the best coople of the yeeuh.” Everyone studiously ignoring him. He’s so embarrassing.

I really really love Mo, though. Like I know I’m biased because she’s pretty, but her cute little “Yes!” when Paul jokingly suggests they do it at the cavern. She loved those days. The fact that she’s an og? God bless her, literally.

“Location isn’t really our main problem at the moment.” George Martin. “It’s breathing, actually.” said in the most casual voice possible but meant with the most wounded heart. Gosh, that one hurt. And then look how George Martin looks at him. His best boy is going through it.

The huggle! Ringo initiates it with Paul, of course, turning to him and gently gripping both biceps as he forces deep, direct eye contact. But then as Ringo’s pulling away, Paul leans into him and holds him there, talking. And as Ringo’s nodding, he looks to John, who basically pounces on both of them, head bowed, arms aggressive, pulling them all in, tighter, tighter until it’s a three-way head-bonk. Ringo’s hand at John’s waist now, and Paul’s fucking iron talons clenching desperately around his bicep. But still, John manages to pull away from Paul’s grip as Yoko inserts herself between them where, really, she decidedly does Not belong. It’s got to be the most painful non-hug ever recorded on camera. Nobody knows what anyone wants, let alone how to give it to them.

Why did the gayest one also have to be the saddest one though? I guess the Lord gives his hardest battles to his gayest soldiers, smh

[pandas-pandemonium]

Yandere!Idol Group and Yandere!Manager Profiles

Here it is people, the yandere profiles of the members of the popular idol group: DI4MANTE + and their tired manager.

Alain Kumar • 26

Alain is the leader of the group, and the sweetest one too. His fans have dubbed him the unofficial "mother" of DI4MANTE, and he certainly lives up to the role. That same kindness and sweetness extends to the group's lovely assistant manager, Y/N, and is doubled even further.

The man cooks, cleans and would do it all without asking if it means being able to show what a suitable husband he'd be for you. He's also incredibly protective. What kind of lover would he be if you got hurt?! Or even worse- He doesn't like thinking too much about such horrible things.

His position as the leader of DI4MANTE also means he gets to fuss over you as much as he likes. Ever since the group got a new assistant manager to "relieve the burden off Haneul's shoulders", he's been doing everything he can under the privacy of the dressing rooms to help you in any way possible.

Going to grab waters for the group? Let him help! He's been working out with Devante recently and there's no way he could let their lovely, fragile assistant manager lift such heavy packs!

He also makes sure to prepare meals for you too! What do you mean it should be your job? No way, he's the leader of the group and he should do what he can to make sure you don't exhaust yourself. He'd still happily take any meals you give him though, and savour every spoonful.

Isa Valentine • 24

Isa's the princely one, with heavenly vocals to match. He's also the most popular member of DI4MANTE and for good reason too. His ethereal looks and naturally flirty persona has garnered a rather large fanbase. Fans also speculate whether "Valentine" is even his real surname or not.

The man appears to be perfect in every way...or so it seems. Away from the cameras, underneath that dazzling persona of his lies a rabidly obsessive individual, desperate to keep his dear assistant manager as single as possible, and willing to smear his own name by causing a scandal. Haneul has managed to hold Isa back from doing so, thankfully, but Isa's patience can only last for so long.

Isa, in one word, is a pervert. Ever since their darling assistant manager walked into their lives, his world has never been the same. He wants you to touch him, look at him, kiss him. He's definitely stolen a few of your chapsticks or lipsticks and used them before.

Out of the group, he is the second-most easily jealous yandere. If you're not paying attention to him, or praising him for breathing, his mood is downright awful. Fights have been started because he thought a member of the group or some backstage staff member was taking too much of your time. Only Devante, Alain and Haneul can hold him back when he starts going off on other innocent staff members.

So much for being a princely man.

Devante Velasco • 28

One of the main rappers of DI4MANTE, next to Alain. He's also notorious for being the fitness buff of the group, with his social media being chock full of gym pics...not that his fans would complain. Devante's the strongest of the group, and also the most possessive and jealous yandere too. The amount of water bottles that were crushed by his fearsome grip are overflowing. Devante absolutely hates the idea of you, his darling assistant manager, being in a relationship or even talking to anyone outside of their little circle. If he could, he would kill every single person who's touched you or looked at you a little too keenly for his tastes. There are way too many times that Haneul had to step in before he scared off some poor intern who was just asking you for help and caused a scandal.

Speaking of scandals, Devante has way too many to count and there have been petitions to kick him out of the group ever since you joined. Haneul has done a pretty good job covering the real reason behind the bar fights and all, but there's only so much that the company can do before people start piecing together the fragments of truth that have slipped past the eyes of the company.

It doesn't help that Devante has made it a point to find a way to leave a visible mark on his cute little assistant manager as often as possible. From little hair clips, necklaces, at one point he even offered to give you matching temporary tattoos! (He would go with a real one, but Alain persuaded him not to because that would cause way too much trouble for the group, internally and externally). Yes, Devante does have tattoos, several of them, that his diehard fans have tattooed on themselves as well. Devante's fans are the scariest, and if word ever got out about his obsession with the new assistant manager? Blood will be splilled.

Matthew (Mattie) Rhys • 22

Mattie is the youngest in DI4MANTE, and also the most obsessive. He has made a shrine to his lovely assistant manager, full of pictures and little scraps that you may have left behind. Isa had tried to steal some of the shrine's items for his own use, but that was before Mattie struck a deal with him, as suggested by Haneul, that the two of them could contribute to the shrine instead of fighting over it all the time. There's only one assistant manager and they can only contribute so much.

Mattie is like a puppy in love when it comes to the group's lovely assistant manager. He wants all your attention, and will try every way to get it. From "accidentally" hurting himself to outright interrupting your conversations to drag you off somewhere else. He will try anything as long as it means you're with him as much as possible. Needless to say, Haneul has a field day when it comes to the group's division of their time with their assistant manager.

Also, don't be fooled by Mattie's innocent looks. He may look sweet and innocent in front of the cameras and to everyone else backstage, but his members know his true colours. Underneath lies a deeply jealous and lowkey manipulative man, who has managed to keep the innocent facade up in front of you to the point that he could touch you inappropriately and still brush it off as an "accident".

Haneul Kang • 30

The Manager of DI4MANTE, who is seriously overworked. It's why he suggested bringing on an assistant manager in the first place. While his general idol management workload has decreased significantly since your appearance, his emotional workload has doubled. It frustrates Haneul that the boys of DI4MANTE has set their sights on you when if it wasn't for them, he could have you all to himself.

However, he still agreed to Alain's proposition to work together as a team when it comes to keeping your affections and attention focused on them. It's easier to keep the rats away when there's a whole group to keep watch after all. Even so, dealing with the frequent fights caused by Devante and Isa is no easy task, that and the many scandals that have arose since your entry into the group's dynamics. Haneul doesn't mind...too much, however. If it is for you, no obstacle is hard enough to overcome.

Haneul's another protective yandere, and he has worked with Alain several times to make sure you're not overworking yourself or placing yourself in harm's way. The amount of jobs lost in the company is a suitable sacrifice. People who could endanger your well-being don't deserve to be in your presence anyways.

Overall, Haneul is a massive enabler for DI4MANTE. He sees no reason to discourage their affections for you (so long as it's only the 5 of them and no one else), and is happy to keep the group's image as clean as possible as long as it means that you'll stay with them.

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Rammblings Nijmegen 2024-06-18

The Show (part 2)

- Sound and music were pretty good, as a guitarists-fan i was looking forward to Richard's solos, but the first one i couldn't really hear well, maybe the sound was a bit off there, but that must have been just a glitch, because elsewhere it was great (Ausländer solo os so beautiful 🥰). I know some people mention there's playback on some songs, but honestly, i don't care, we were all looking forward to a great show after being wet and cold for a while, that i just wanted it to look and sound the best it could 🌺 (Maybe it was me, but at Adieu i think there was someone off key at some point 😊 so that definitely wasn't playback, but they pulled it together)

- Paul and Olli's side i could watch pretty well, although i didn't see Olli that well, on IG photos i see that he wore a darker shirt for part of the show, maybe that had something to do with it. Paul was for the most part of the show playing with his micstand and doing Paul things like he usually does 😊

- Flake is great in his gold outfit, no trouble following where he's going, and i loved his 'stuck doing the Till-hammer' but, with team feuerzone egging him on chanting 'Flake, Flake' 😄

- Richard looked great, even from that distance (he didn't bother trying his hair to stand up and started with the hair combed down), and i lived his backing vocals, especially at Puppe, you could really hear his voice in the sound as well 🥰

- sometimes i read fans not liking the songs from the Untitled album that much, because 'it isn't Rammstein as it should be', but honestly, some of the songs that got the crowd moving the best, were actually Ausländer and Radio, and even the Deutschland remix with the stickmen dance was great at getting the crowd to dance along, until that point in the show the crowd were mainly watching (not team feuerzone, they always moved ofcourse), but those songs really melted the ice (maybe that was also the moment the rain started to drizzle out, don't remember). Loved the stickmen dance (which i didn't think i would), the 4 guys did a little 'kickline' at some point, and some other funny stuff, and we in our little corner on the stands danced along 😊

- And ofcourse the big songs like Sonne (when the sun really showed for the first time), Du Hast, Deutschland, DRSG, Mein Teil were great as well, but i really loved all the songs, not one exception ❤️

- I was too far away to really notice if 'fun was had' on stage (you know i like it when the guys have fun on stage), but i loved Paul and Richard playing together, love that their Mein Teil intro is always a bit different (up until that point they played pretty much their regular 'roles'), think Till tried to distract Paul before that intro a little bit to prevent him from going to center stage 😊 but the tower was obstructing my view a bit, so really only saw afterwards on social media all the details 😄 but that's okay, they had fun, that is the main thing 🥰

- i really enjoyed my first show, and i really wanted the band to know it, i wouldn't have minded if they stuck around on stage a bit longer at the after-Sonne-bows and the final salut so we could cheer them on more, but that isn't the Rammstein way and i accept that 😊

- and the best part: i get to do it again today (and it looks like it will be dry) 🥰

[dustedmagazine]

Alan Sparhawk — White Roses, My God (Sub Pop)

Photo by Sophia Photo Co.

Grief can sometimes make you retreat. Familiar comforts can be appealing when the massive weight of it presses down and feels like it will never relent. But what if you’re an artist, needing to express yourself at this particular time in your life, and the ways you are used to doing so are inaccessible reminders of that same anguish? Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker had a life together for decades, and a creative life together as Low for most of that time. After Parker died in 2022, there is simply no option for Sparhawk (who has long been upfront about how he relied on Parker’s ear and sensibility in their work together) to work in the way he was used to. As he’s said in an interview, “I’m trying to use my voice, but I don’t want to hear my voice, so I needed to find another voice.” If the superlative final few Low albums were in part accounts of the duo forging a new vocabulary, White Roses, My God sees Sparhawk trying to do so once again under the most wrenching conditions.

Even though the music here can on first contact seem like a radical break from Sparhawk’s past work, it stems from the domestic and close at hand. Sparhawk has shared that the main tool used to create the vocals here is a TC-Helicon Voicetone C1 pitch correction pedal, one of the devices they got for their kids to play around with. (Yes, the well-known AutoTune software does pitch correction. No, the music here was not made using AutoTune except insofar as the name of the software has become a generic stand-in for pitch correction.) At times he creaks or squawks, mutters or gibbers. Finding several new alien tones to express himself in, Sparhawk also found songs streaming out of his consciousness. The result isn’t completely a one-man show; kids Hollis and Cyrus contributed backing vocals and bass respectively, and Sparhawk co-produced with Nat Harvie. But the result does feel as much like the unfiltered expression of one human being as any solo acoustic singer-songwriter record does.

The synths and drum machines Sparhawk employs often feel deceptively bouncy and bright in tone, although the minute-long lament “Heaven” clearly indicates that if Sparhawk had wanted to aim for the tear ducts throughout these 35 minutes, he could have. Even so, those pieces are assembled in ways that can be foreboding and harsh. Some tracks, like the ebulliently bubbling “I Made This Beat,” lock purely into the joy of creating (in this case partly by repeating the title to the point of pure texture), but most remain gnomically private. The clattering slide that opens “Can U Hear” builds to an almost slow-motion darkwave climax with squalling vocals bouncing around over goth-y synth pads. “Station” feels like gentle synth-pop periodically subsumed by a drone that rises up from beneath it. “Brother” blends in a steady, sparse guitar part from Sparhawk until the whole track lurches in sympathy with his wails.

The result is a record is suffused with grief without ever drowning in it (or, for the most part, addressing it directly in the lyrics even when you can parse them out). White Roses, My God is probably best summed up by “Feel Something”’s arc from pleading “can you feel something here?” to affirming “I think I feel something here” as warmly rounded tones and occasionally gnashing drum programming cycle away. Long term fans wanting to hear more of the Sparhawk they’re used to probably don’t have long to wait; live, he’s been playing one set of this material and another of more conventional, angry/grieving songs with ‘clean’ vocals, and he’s been working on an album with Duluth band Trampled by Turtles backing him. But none of that should overshadow just what a rare and precious thing this is, the sound of a man fighting his way through the stasis of mourning with whatever voice he can find, in whatever forms it finds him.

Ian Mathers