#like that's a super fine tightrope to walk

[makeste]

How do you feel about certain events which may have happened in a really really recent chapter of Japanese sky high with a hint of Naruto in it in which our main character is a green boi

I'm only partially spoiled because I was only trying to keep tabs on the major stuff, so I would still have something to react to when I catch up again. so I feel like I'm not really qualified to give an opinion just yet, because there's a lot of nuance and buildup and context I'm probably still missing. I will say that in hindsight I'm glad I'll get to read the for-reals final battle binge-style rather than week-to-week, both because I think it'll read better that way, and because if I'm being fully honest, the one thing I don't miss about doing weekly reads is weighing in on each new story controversy of the week. XD

granted I will admit this is a particularly spicy controversy lol. and not necessarily what I was hoping for, BUT at the end of the day it's Horikoshi's story and he can do what he wants. and if this really is The End For Real, it's nothing a few fix-it AUs can't handle if it comes to that. I do want to wait and see what the next few chapters hold before I give it an official star rating or anything like that, though, because I feel like there's still a lot of stuff that hasn't been fully resolved and/or addressed. so I'm withholding all final judgments for at least a few more weeks.

[vypridae]

*magically appears from the void*

Okay! Hi, hope your having a good day, all of that jazz. Maybe someone has asked you this before, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on a fyosiglai circus au? Hehe sorry ive been starting to create one and since you like fyosiglai wanted to hear your thoughts!

got on my computer to answer this one because this is GENIUS

i don't really think of circus aus much and i haven't really thought much about like, what? goes on? in a circus? cause i don't know? but this is absolute genius (i'm actually looking shit up as i write this so aHSGJKHASDFJKG) (also this got long so under a cut)

okay. first initial thoughts; decay of angels are the main circus members. fukuchi is the ringmaster + surprise he's also the lion tamer (i could imagine him like, surprising the audience because nikolai "accidentally" lets out a lion or something and fukuchi "tames it" in front of the audience so they get Big Jumpscare cause oh no that wasn't supposed to happen !!! yes it was lmao)

also as a little side note i like to think bram does the sword swallowing and knife throwing (sigma's the target) and he's literally perfect at the knife throwing and no one knows how he's that amazing

sigma i imagine is the most flexible of the remaining three so i can see him doing like, the acrobatics in the air and contortion and stuff (and i like to imagine it flusters the FUCK out of nikolai and fyodor because holy shit? how? he's so pretty. what the fuck?).

you expected this i bet but nikolai is the clown !! obviously. he probably does a lot of the juggling stuff, maybe some "magic", and he really likes the dangerous things so he ends up being the one on the tightrope walk and he pretends to fall and doesn't (i imagine this circus is really bent on "how can we jumpscare the audience"). he has so much fun messing with the audience and most of his acts end up including at least one (1) audience member. maybe he does some fire performances too (he definitely does) (i bet the first time sigma saw nikolai do fire tricks he was terrified and fyodor reassured him it was fine because "he's been doing this since we were children. do not worry")

fyodor i'm really not sure what he might do. trying to think what he might do is kinda stumping me rn, i can't imagine he likes doing stuff in front of other people but i can imagine he might be really good at the object manipulation stuff, i think he'd have a lot more he does behind the scenes though. so like, lighting and special effects and stuff. i don't think he'd like doing any actual acts but he can do some of them and he's good at them, like maybe equilibristics a little bit? i'm really not sure for him, but whatever he does nikolai is super excited about it and sigma thinks he's absolutely amazing at it

i imagine sigma is the newest member of the circus too. fukuchi and bram founded it, and fyodor and nikolai knew each other from childhood so sigma feels really out of place with them at first, but fyodor and nikolai take a liking to him and i imagine they help him in determining his acts and what he might do for the audience and it turns out he's a natural! and honestly it only makes fyodor and nikolai more interested and eventually fall for him whether they want to or not

i also imagine fukuchi is absolutely awful and teases either nikolai or fyodor (fyodor would be funnier) about "ah, those two?" and whoever he's teasing (fyodor is still funnier) is like "shut UP." (he never shuts up)

maybe there's some rival circus or something (immediate thought was either the ADA or the hunting dogs) and they have to get their shit TOGETHER and figure out How Can We Be Better Than These Guys and fyosiglai work together training and practicing and stuff and Shit! Goes! Down! you can decide what that might be idk what happens in circus aus

[kelzebub]

Aight so I'm 44 years old and feel a bit too old to be redefining my gender but

The Barbie movie.

Okay I'm super tired right now but I want to get this out even if it's not very coherent. Jist real quick.

The whole thing about being a woman, that the girl's mom says at the end. I don't feel that way anymore. I used to identify with it a bit, like, I hated these expectations even though I never tried very hard to conform to them. But now? In middle age? I truly do not care anymore.

The tightrope walk that is femininity? I hopped off ages ago. I don't feel like a woman at all, and I don't mind this. I don't miss it.

I'll always keep my name pronouns and wear what I feel like and all that. But I feel like I have left gender behind in a lot of ways. It just... doesn't concern me. And it's totally fine.

[tabbyclaw]

Yep, I'm doing this. Crosssposting my Yuletide letter here just for the hell of it.

Overall I like stories that are more on the lighthearted side, fun with a bit of humor and a happy ending. Grand, world-saving plots are always great, but I love an adventure where the stakes are low and personally important to the characters, and when the plot gives them a chance to show off their competence and recognize the competence of the people around them. (Most of the characters I've requested are a bit pathetic or goofy to some degree or another and I absolutely encourage embracing that, but they're also good at what they do and I'd like them to have a chance to shine.) I don't like AUs that completely change the canon setting and circumstances, but I'm always interested to see what people do with "What if [canon event] happened differently?"-type AUs. Characters and their interactions are always the biggest thing I'm here for, so I'm definitely hoping for banter and casual physical affection, both platonic and romantic. And speaking of romantic, there are definitely some requests here where that's what I'm hoping for, although in all cases I will absolutely be happy with platonic relationships between the characters as well. For romantic stories I'm a sucker for mutual pining and accidental feelings realizations, and I love unusual and unexpected romantic moments and flirtation, where maybe this wouldn't look like flirting if anyone else was doing it, but when it's these specific characters it definitely is. I'm not keen on second-person POV, but first and third are equally welcome.

DNWs: explicit sex, unrequested non-canon pairings, unrequested identity headcanons, non-canon character death, tragic/bleak endings, mundane/modern/setting change AUs, non-canon severe illness/injury (canon-typical comedic, non-permanent injuries in cartoon canons are fine), animal harm.

Fandom-specific likes and prompts

Darkwing Duck Requested characters: Drake Mallard, Gosalyn Mallard, Launchpad McQuack

I'd really love some domesticity for this group, especially mixed in with the way their home lives intersect with the crimefighting. Navigating the early days of making it work as a household and as a family, and how that changes over time. Possibly as Gosalyn gets older Darkwing considers bringing her into the crimefighting business (maybe to fill in temporarily because Launchpad is unavailable for some reason, or maybe as a more permanent thing) and has to walk the parenting tightrope of "wanting to help my kid grow" and "wanting to keep my kid safe"? Or maybe a look at her relationship with Launchpad specifically, and how it differs from her relationship with her dad? Also, Launchpad is out there being a superhero's sidekick with no secret identity to protect him and it should be super easy to connect him to both his lives. I don't actually have any specific thoughts about that; it just makes me go "Hey, wait a minute" sometimes and I wanted to throw it out there. And I definitely ship Darkwing/Launchpad, so if the spirit moves you in that direction knock yourself out. (But nothing about them dealing with homophobia, please!)

Kung Fu Panda Requested characters: Tigress, Shifu

This is a request made mostly in hopes of fix-it fic. The original movie makes it clear enough how desperate Tigress is for Shifu's approval, and every time the extended materials dip into her backstory it just hammers home how long she's been chasing it and how much not getting it has affected her. What I'd really like to see is Shifu actually recognizing that post-canon (or at least post-first film) and making some effort to ease that pain and improve the relationship between them going forward. I don't need a huge dramatic blow-up with groveling, just something that says the first steps are being taken. (Maybe something tied to that still of the two of them eating noodles in the end credits? I always felt like that suggested some of the tension between them loosening up.) And if that whole thing feels like kind of a lot (fair), maybe something about what she was like growing up, before things got really difficult. I've always thought that her time with him must have overlapped with Tai Lung's (would Shifu have taken her in so readily if he was already bitter about his previous failure?), so what would that have been like, and how would that loss that she was too young to understand have affected their relationship?

Oxventure D&D Requested characters: Prudence, Corazon de Ballena

That reference I made in my general likes, to characters who are pathetic or goofy but still surprisingly competent? I was definitely counting the Oxventurers among those, and Corazon especially. I love how cool he thinks he is, and how cool Prudence actually is (well, you know, most of the time), and I love the chemistry between them when they're being terrible people who are trying very hard to pretend not to care and failing miserably at it. Especially when they're being a mix of terrible and caring towards each other. They play off each other so well and have so much chemistry that I'd love to see them doing almost anything together (unintentionally taking a day off in the same place? Secretly planning a job they don't think the rest of the guild will approve of?), but I do specifically ship it pretty hard and I am always down to see things go in that direction. Anything that involves accidentally realizing and/or revealing their feelings for each other would be great, and specifically I think these two would be perfect for a fake dating plot (as part of a plan that made sense at the time? To piss off Corazon's dad?) that gets more real than either of them ever intended it to.

Megamind Requested characters: Megamind, Roxanne Ritchi

Even when these two are in conflict there's a level of sincerity and familiarity between them that I love, and they're already pretty flirty and comfortable with each other from the very beginning of the movie. I'd be interested to see a pre-canon take on that, with the two of them gradually getting bolder and more familiar in their interactions as Megamind starts to develop an interest in Roxanne and Roxanne realizes that a) Megamind is basically harmless and b) it's really fun to push his buttons. If "Bernard" had never happened, would they have ever gotten to an 'openly interested in each other' stage on their own? Alternately, post-canon it would be fun to see the two of them learning to live in each other's worlds, with Roxanne helping Megamind get used to being around people and interacting with the public like just another citizen, and Roxanne getting used to being with someone who approaches everything in his life (including romance) with the same level of drama and spectacle he devotes to villainy.

[porcupine-girl]

Hm, overall: I'm not on the "holy shit that was amazing" train that I saw a lot of people on last night, but it was solid and I'm super curious where they're going to take it. It was pilot-awkward in a lot of ways that I'm not sure were avoidable, especially since it was walking a different tightrope than most pilots have to walk, which can't be easy.

The cast are all individually good but they all need to sink into their characters a little better, and their relationships, but that's normal. John was the most natural - Carlos and Lata obviously are awesome but it very much felt like their actors were acting; I'm sure after a few episodes that will fade. Mary is fine, but she doesn't quite have the chemistry she needs with anyone else yet, but again that's normal. These are all standard pilot problems.

I have a feeling it'll take a few episodes to find its footing, but it can afford that because it has a built-in audience and 13-episode pickup, unlike most pilots, and I think by halfway into that it'll be a different beast.

[musicarenagh]

UBU: A Diverse Sonic Tapestry of Memories In the world of music, tributes often tread a fine line between heartfelt homage and saccharine sentimentality. The album "UBU" by UBU not only walks this tightrope with grace but also leaps into an exploration of diverse styles and profound messages that transcend mere words. Released on April 28, 2023, "UBU" is both a memorial and celebration of Marco Trinchillo's life—a co-founder whose sudden departure at 41 added layers of poignancy to the concluding stages of the album’s production. https://open.spotify.com/album/6PmPxKzRTY8BfF57cCpV8Z Over two years in Forli, Italy's 'L’Amor Mio Non Muore' studio, this collective endeavor emerged under the stewardship of UBU alongside Franco Naddei. What sets "UBU" apart is its embrace of multiplicity—each song reflects a confluence of emotions swathed in distinct musical genres ranging from pop to easy listening and euphoric highs that defy categorization. With eleven tracks acting as canvases for expression, "UBU" introduces us to an ensemble cast including Hannah Saunders, FRNQ, Nicola Biondi, Pieralberto Valli, Hellis, Cleats, Luca Parma, Emma Perrot, Enzo Moretto, Francesca Amati, and Mattia Mercuriali (co-founder, Amycanbe), each bringing their unique touch influenced by Trinchillo’s expansive creativity. His legacy—a testament to self-taught brilliance spanning drumming to photography (captured in esteemed outlets like The Guardian)—echoes throughout the album. [caption id="attachment_53967" align="alignnone" width="2000"] UBU: A Diverse Sonic Tapestry of Memories[/caption] The tribute extends beyond rehashed nostalgia; it invites listeners into an immersive experience where melodies carry stories versatile enough to appeal across the spectrum—from seasoned aficionados seeking depth and innovative soundscapes to casual listeners cherishing moments captured through tunes. Trinchillo's spirit looms large—guiding these artists as they weave together influences capturing his essence without chaining themselves solely unto grief. [caption id="attachment_53968" align="alignnone" width="1280"] UBU: A Diverse Sonic Tapestry of Memories[/caption] Tracks oscillate between introspection and unbridled joy—the kind we imagine Marco would have insisted upon. Listeners are guided through an evocative journey marked by super edgy artistic choices that challenge yet comfort simultaneously: A sonic rollercoaster reflecting life itself with all its inherent contradictions. Ultimately, "UBU" is not just another entry into music archives—it holds up a mirror showing us resilience borne out of love lost too soon yet celebrated eternally through artistry emerging triumphant against despair’s shadow.“UBU” accomplishes what few tributes can: It ensures Marco Trinchillo vibrates forever heartbeats aligned amidst rhythms birthed from collective memories cherished always—an undying testimony celebrating influence transcending mortal confines onto divine mélange melody whispers witnessed worldwide.*(An ethereal rhapsody inscribed indelibly upon souls stirred evermore).* Follow UBU on Facebook, Bandcamp, YouTube and Instagram.

[crowlore]

lucian’s comfort character compilation (i will be cheating)

i have been instructed by @huginsmemory​ to “List Five Comfort Characters And Tag Five People”. helpfully, i was already recently provided with a handy list of characters perceived to be Mine™, seen here:

what can i say. i have a brand to maintain and apparently it’s deeply mentally ill characters that spark needless discourse on twitter. i own this. i will be cheating by pairing characters together per listing. order doesn’t particularly reflect anything. i don’t typically tag specific people for these things so consider this post an open invitation to anyone reading to overshare about your favs. GO FORTH

nicholas d. wolfwood. my fucking god. to lead with him feels the most transparent i can stand to be. what is there to even say. he has everything. he's the foil. he's the love interest. he's introduced with one foot in the grave and the other in the church. he's a hitman. he's a priest. he's a bodyguard. kids and single mothers love him. he's an orphan. he's a chain smoker. he shoots first asks questions never. he's screaming and covered in his own blood and hunting you down with a concussion and temporary blindness. he was drowning in foot deep water with seven broken ribs three minutes ago but he's fine now. as a man who once fractured his spine on a rock because of a comical tightrope walking incident and was walking it off two hours later, i relate. something something i could fix him but whatever is wrong with him is way more interesting

minato arisato and ryoji mochizuki (do not separate). uhhhhh persona 3 remake when? please? the earliest installments of this series may have been a bit before my time (not that i even got to play 3 when it was fresh since i didn’t really get a lot of freedom with video games until 2012) so i understand my bias but p3 is still my favorite main series entry to date. and you get TWO depressed moon themed bitches for the price of one with this game? one of them is death. the other becomes an interstellar gateway. i’m a sucker for characters who know each other for a tiny fraction of the larger story but instantly connect like they’ve been waiting lifetimes to meet again. characters whose presence in the narrative is brief but infinitely impactful. one is literally made from the other. what can i say.

goro akechi. while we’re on persona. sorry, we have to get into my Problematic Fav. let me tell you. i’ve been in the fucking trenches. this character is easily 50% of the reason i don’t engage in persona fandom spaces (wrt 5 especially). i love crazy bitches. personally, i love and encourage his violent mania and psychotic tendencies. can’t help being a gemini. can’t help being a foil. he didn’t stop at biting the hand that feeds him; he wanted to chew the whole thing off the arm regardless of who else he had to sink his teeth into on the way. y’all are just still mad that part of that means he can be a pretty unlikable person. at least he was honest with his motivations when you caught him. i get him though. goro’s role in the third act of royal saved the game because you and i both know that new story content wasn’t any good otherwise. he’s there to be a BITCH and keep things REAL. shout out to goro akechi for helping me identify my own dissociative disorder. thanks king

uldren sov and crow. this is a different people, same character sort of situation. sometimes you die and come back with no memories and get to be the same person at heart but placed into a life of extremely altered circumstances and see where that takes you. now i’m aware these characters are kind of divisive in destiny circles (mostly for the wrong reasons). i’ll give it to the people who think he’s being pushed waaaaay too hard into the narrative spotlight in a lot of seasons; that’s totally fair. but he’s had a lot of super compelling arcs surrounding his trauma across two lifetimes. his grief really becomes him. i’m also sincerely just so weak to stories centered around siblings, especially ones dealing with the really harsh and ugly truths regarding emotional abuse in the family and the complexity of familial love.

dimitri alexandre blaiddyd and the blue lions. SORRY. CONTRACTUAL FIRE EMBLEM MENTION. fe16 is the reason i completely left the fire emblem fandom space, even though it’s been a toxic cesspool for the entire decade i’ve been in any way involved with it. dimitri’s another of my twitter assigned problematic favs (the fandom faction wars surrounding this game were insane) and the reason i’m not even on the platform anymore. i have miles wide weak spot for the blue lions’ found family dynamic and was instantly in love with the way these characters played off of each other in established relationships right from the start of the game. their route tells a very complete, grounded character driven story that hit all the right emotional story beats to make the ending really feel rewarding. it was often times uncomfortable, but it was done well in a way that didn’t shy away from a lot of the ugly parts of mental illness that allowed me to feel very seen. i think it held truest to the standard formula of the fire emblem story structure and did so very well, even if silver snow was written first as the intended canonical story route. still my favorite after four years. classic.

[ermine-writer]

Some of my "Grown Up" Encanto Headcanons

I told you guys I would get you more headcanons so here we go, all the grown-ups!

General

There is very little definition in Cool Kids versus Warm Kids, just Weather Mom vs Cooking Mom. All these adults will comfort any child in the way they can.

They don't have Favorites, just ones that they end up comforting/relating to the easiest.

All the 50 yr olds are super close. Like, they would hang out on the weekends just because close.

Abuela

She thinks of all these adults as her kids. Her sons-in-law were just later additions.

Has never gotten over the Single Mom of Three mentality of "if I hear a thump it's fine, if I hear a thump and crash it's less fine, if I hear a thump and screaming it's Not Fine, if I hear a thump and silence something is Very Wrong".

Absolutely peeks into people's rooms sometimes to be sure they're okay. Especially Bruno now that he's back.

Was an absolute worrywort whenever someone got sick pre-Julieta. Like, very comforting and doting.

IS the entire criminal justice system of the Encanto.

Follows the old school "don't get caught" way of getting back at someone that has wronged someone else. Says "be the bigger person" and hands Camilo a bat at the same time.

Julieta

Cooks everything with Loooveeeeee~.

The parent that rolls with everything. Oh? Camilo is "Juan" today? Well tell "Juan" he better come have dinner. Oh? Dolores is nowhere to be found? Well let's hope these COOKIES DON'T SUDDENLY GO MISSING FROM THE COUNTER.

Was the tiebreaker triplet. Not meaning she was the peacekeeper, because they all took turns with that, but she would cast the deciding vote.

Has a very corny sense of humor. Like, Pepa and Bruno learned how to roll their eyes specifically because Julieta isn't funny but she's so earnest you have to laugh.

Graceful to a fault. Could balance twelve plates on her person and walk a tightrope just fine. She just married clumsy.

Her confidence is purely from age. She was not confident as a kid.

Pepa

Was very sad to not get to share the nursery anymore. What do you mean she spends her entire life with those two and now they live in different rooms? No.

Random pile of blankets spotted around the house? A Pepa nest, do not disturb for she may be in it.

The fastest to anger triplet. Anytime she saw someone in town even remotely being mean to another Madrigal she nipped it in the bud with a glance. Not even because of the weather, just because she's spicy.

The worst at offering comforting words so the best to go to if you just want to be held and rocked, you're never too old in Pepa's eyes.

Has anxiety but is actually really rational. But when your every emotion is on display it doesn't matter how rational you are, people call you emotional.

Feels bad every time a regular storm passes through the Encanto because she can't really stop it.

Bruno

The funny triplet. His jokes are hit or miss but his method of comfort is 'lightening the mood'.

Was terrified he'd break and drop Isabela but by the time Camilo rolls around he was an absolute pro. Very sad he never got to hold Antonio.

Would do plays and performances for the sobrinos. And let them participate if they wanted to. (Was the best story reader for a similar reason.)

Has a backup ruana because the sobrinos would steal it with the hood up and say "No, I'm Bruno," then give each other futures. (Like, 'you'll have a papaya with breakfast' or 'you're going to give me all your cookies'.)

Mirabel is his favorite, but he loves all of them. Has a special connection to the Big Kids because he helped raise them, but wants to connect to the Little Kids since he feels like he missed a lot.

Don't want to talk about why you're sad? Go sit with Bruno and hear childhood triplet stories or him read a book in a silly voice.

Agustín

People thought he was getting hurt on purpose to hang out with Julieta every day for months before he figured out he liked her. He's just clumsy.

Julieta thinks his glasses are cute and he always wonders if maybe that's why he still needs them. (Not in a resentful way, just a cutesy way.)

Cooks for Julieta whenever he can. Is actually a really good cook and less accident-prone in Casita's kitchen.

Camilo tried to eat his glasses multiple times as a baby. Agustín doesn't bring it up but still has a soft spot for him because of it.

Taught all the kids piano but Luisa took to it the best. He misses having her sit on his lap and pretend to play.

Asks Isabela for a new shirt flower every day, because it started mostly cute and at this point if he didn't ask she would think he's dying.

Félix

Kid: Saw this redheaded girl sobbing in a field, asked why she was sitting in the rain and didn't understand why she looked so mad at him. Teen: Oh! That's why she was so mad. Adult: If I don't marry this woman my life has been for nothing.

Absolutely charmed Abuela and Julieta while he was starting to date Pepa because he knew he couldn't without their permission. Also tried to be nice to Bruno but was pretty sure Bruno hated him (spoiler: Bruno did not.)

Chastises the kids the most because they know Pepa has a bleeding heart and unless it's Really Serious they can get away with it.

Used to dance with all the nietas, letting them step on his feet and never letting them know it hurt.

He and Agustín made a good team because together they had music and dance. They're also bros.

ABSOLUTELY tells every story like it was amazing and Pepa is pointing out what went wrong but Félix is just beaming like "okay so?"

Next up will probably be the Warm Siblings, then finally the Cool Sisters! 🤔I haven't really decided yet!

[on-stained-glass-wings]

💐 - What small things go a long way for your muse? What small favors can someone do to get on their good side?

(If you would like to talk about how Finlay and/or Malenia wooed each other, that'd be sweet too!)

Loving and accepting Miquella as someone fragile and vulnerable as well as the most powerful Empyrean of all.

I"m dead-ass serious. Yes, Malenia's love language is acts of service, so all the little things Finlay does without asking (carrying Malenia's sword and arm for her on bad pain days, putting extra lavender in her tea, making up excuses for her to set back and let Malenia train the men when Malenia's chronic illness catches up with her, seeking out braille transcriptions of the latest novels, etc.) are super fucking important and special. However, the most important thing to Malenia--the one that had convinced her for so long that romance was impossible for her, even if she hadn't been suffering from a terminal, chronic illness--is that they understand and accept Miquella.

Not as an unblemished idol, not as a faultless god, not as a distant king, not as a perpetual child, and not as a miniature adult--but as the unique package of contradictions and intricacies that encompass her elder twin's existence.

Malenia may walk her own tightrope of nobility, pride, and success, but Miquella's tightrope, in comparison, is on fire and covered in cooking oil. Letting someone close enough to peek into their intimate family of two would run the risk of them seeing Miquella do all of the imperfect, childish things he tries so desperately to hide from the wider world in order to maintain his aura of maturity and perfect control. He's not a miniature adult--can never be a miniature adult--but putting on that front allows him to earn the respect of a world run by adults, and he can't let that slip to anyone he and his sister can't trust. To anyone that wouldn't understand that he is a child beneath it all, and start respecting him less as a result.

Malenia knows this--knows her brother better than anyone ever will--and she would rather die before she let someone into her heart that would reject Miquella's true self and threaten the world he's built for them. So she spent decades in the beds of beautiful, strong women--women who, in another life, she would have probably dated--but inevitably turned them away the moment their gazes became too tender and their touch too lingering.

She was fine with it.

She really was.

...but then fucking Finlay wormed her way into Malenia's life and just. Wouldn't. Leave; and the closer they became, the less Malenia wanted her to leave, and the more she dreaded having the 'just be friends' talk she'd done countless times before but made her feel as if she'd swallowed glass shards whenever she thought about doing so with Finlay.

Before she could do this, however, Finlay happened upon Malenia comforting Miquella during one of private meltdowns--where the world has become too much and being Miquella the Unalloyed has become too much, so he screams and weeps and beats his fists against Malenia's back as she holds him for lack of any other way to express how he's feeling--and she.

Didn't leave. Or laugh. Or gawk.

She simply backed out of the room and returned with a blanket, passing it to Malenia while silently mouthing to her that she should wrap Miquella up in it, and tightly. Even tighter than she probably thinks it should be.

Malenia did so, and sure enough, Miquella seemed to be almost instantly comforted by the pressure. An episode that would have taken an hour to weather was shortened to minutes, and Finlay waited until Miquella was sniffling but coherent to slip away, returning with a pot of his favorite tea.

One of her siblings used to have meltdowns like that, Finlay had explained after Miquella had fallen asleep in Malenia's arms. Random things would set it off--strange, scratchy fabrics on her skin; loud noises; odd food textures; unending loud noises--and wrapping her tightly in blankets would help ground her and focus her on a solid, constant sensation in the midst of the miasma of input.

I cannot imagine what it must be like to be little and big all at once, Finlay had whispered, regarding the disheveled, tear-stained face of her god with even more admiration than before. Especially for so long and with so many people counting on him. He really is the mightiest Empyrean of them all.

A few days later, Malenia caught sight of Miquella riding on Finlay's shoulders as they traversed the Haligtree's branched, chattering about everything and nothing at all.

Ah, Malenia thought, stunned to the point of forgetting to breath. So this is what i feels like to love and be loved in return.

[pseudofaux]

Oh boy. You’re writing for JJK? *cracks knuckles*. WELL! I would like to humbly request a dribble drabble of Sukuna aka Demon Daddy. I have a corruption kink need. Reader keeps pushing Itadori’s buttons to get Sukuna to come out. Sukuna can be nasty to me, it’s fine. Call me names. Idc, I would do so many things to get into his domain expansion and I’m not embarrassed to say so. Or maybe I am? Gambere gambere, Pseu.

YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Thank you for this.

Definitely some nastiness and not-nice name calling ahead, readers. This got, uh, A LITTLE OUTTA HAND, and is fucky in some dark ways. Under the cut is a story that includes corruption kink, degradation, DVP (bless you, demonic peens), impreg kink (her), knotting (...!), and generally is violent (sought after, but undeniably violent), hey-I’m-pretty-sure-she’s-corrupted-too sex. There is no actual gore, but this is not a soft story. I tried to tightrope walk Sukuna being threatening and mean without actually biting her in half like he so easily could. Because this request asked for reader to be messing with Itadori to bring Sukuna out, that’s here, too, and she has a couple indirect but creepy thoughts about it. If any of that is not something you want to read, this is not for you, and that is a-okay. In that case, please protect yourself and do not read it. For everyone else, especially my fellow Sukuna lovers/worshippers... please buckle up for this 6k long dribble drabble.

Special thanks to @pickle-scribbles and her super brain for helping me shape this when I got stuck, and to my fellow sprinters in the Beni group for helping me get it done. THANK YOU!

(Requests are closed, readers, but there are a lot still to be filled in June! Feel free to follow along or just check in and enjoy as many as you like. A masterlist will go up when they are all completed.)

It was the bite that did it. You had teased, pinched, and tickled an increasingly nervous Itadori, but decided to skip any sort of kissing. You didn’t want to kiss him. So it was the (very gentle!) bite of the juncture of his neck and shoulder that brought Sukuna out, finally. You could feel the way the muscles bulged upwards into your bite, making your smile widen from the force of the change from vessel to curse-king. The room went dim before your eyes closed, and you could tell the exact moment when he smelled different, like the ugly, powerful afterscent of peppercorns vaporized by lightning. It was heaven to take in that first deep breath of him through your nostrils as you kissed the muscle below your mouth, already longing to be completely full of him.

“What,” Sukuna says flatly, a hand fisting the hair at the back of your head to pull you away like a kitten, “Do you think you are doing?”

“Bringing you out,” you admit easily. “I missed you.”

He holds you up effortlessly, chin on one hand and the others crossed lazily in his lap at the end of those powerful curse-marked arms. “I didn’t miss you,” he tells you, cruel and bored. “And you don’t have the power to bring me out.”

“Then I’m just happy to see you,” you confess. You are. You were getting awfully tired of Itadori.

“Don’t torment the kid again. He belongs to me and... houses me, for now. He’s not for your dirty hands to touch. Neither am I.”

You reach for him anyway, a sunflower drawn to the destructive fire of its star. He shakes you like a sock and glares, and both are hard enough that they should jar you into sense, but you don’t seem to have any left. 

“Hey Itadori,” you whispered. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, good!” Yuuji was always cheerful, always sweet. Always a little squirmy around you. You couldn’t blame him; if anyone looked at you the way you looked at him, you’d get the mace out of your purse. But he didn’t care mace, and he was unfailingly polite. Bless his heart.

You didn’t want to hurt him. You had no real feeling or inclination toward Itadori whatsoever. But you badly wanted what lived inside him, growing more powerful every time he gulped down another finger or got too close to something he shouldn’t. You wanted all the eyes, the extra arms, the beautiful curse marks that made your tongue cold when you licked them.

That was what you wanted, not to hurt Itadori. He was a sweet, polite young man. But you would do worse than hurt him to get what you did want. Which was-- desperately-- to get to Sukuna, who was never sweet or polite, and who was always ageless in a way that placed him far enough beyond your ken that you knew he could sexually ruin you with a glance and a word.

Voice cold enough that you are warned and low enough that you are warmed, Sukuna asks, “Do you think a magicless whore like you has any say over me?” The sound of it makes you even more stupid with lust, so stupid all the emergency self-preservation in your brain just dries up and floats off, thin as grapeskin in a breeze.

You do, actually, have some sorcery, but it’s so insignificant compared to his that you say nothing.

He clucks his tongue. “Quiet now? Where’s the fiesty bitch who wanted me out so bad, huh?” One of his hands takes you by your jaw. The touch in unkind and you press right back into it, wanting every hurt he gives, because hurts are points of contact. “Put that mouth to good use or I’ll cut you in half and put you on a pile somewhere,” he rumbles. And then he drops you.

The water of his domain is like tar. You land on your knees where you belong, so it’s not so bad.

“Beg first,” he softly demands. “Or I’ll make it thirds, and it will be slow.”

Your tongue stumbles over assent and gratitude as you rise from your messy landing and reach for his lap. His hands bat you away, but it seems half-hearted (it would be if he had a heart) and you are used to him toying with you. So you try again. But he does it again. You try once more and he slaps your hand away, more insistently.

“I said BEG,” he booms, and the power of his echo rattles a skull and a few small bones off the roof of the shrine.

“Please,” you say immediately. Your voice is very small.

“Please what, slut?”

“Please-- let me,” you beg, reaching for him again. He slaps you away so hard it hurts your wrist. He’s playing keepaway with his body, and that hurts your heart even worse.

He shows you a grin that is not really a smile. The points of all his front teeth are so clean and so terribly, terribly sharp. There is nothing about this being that is not made to cut. “Let you...?”

Oh. Oh, you really are as stupid as he says you are. “Please let me use my mouth.”

He narrows several eyes. “To do what. Last chance,” he warns.

“Please let me suck you!” you sob, scrabbling to reach his knees while his hand on your shoulder keeps you right where you are in the chilly muck. The water here does not wash. It fouls things, makes them need cleansing. And you are in it up to the thighs you wish were wrapped around him instead. It’s thick and cold. You don’t want to think about what’s in there with you, you just want to get to him.

Sukuna releases your shoulder and waves the hand at your face. “Try and see,” he says, exactly like a schoolyard bully but so much more dangerous. There’s a chance he’ll cut your tongue-- or maybe your head-- in half just for fun. He sits himself back against a pillar made of leg bones and puts a pair of his hands behind his head like a beachgoer. Other hands point crudely at his groin. “Make it count or you’ll be dead before you can bruise.”

So you lunge as far forward as you can and lift away the loose kimono, kissing his thighs and trying not to drool on them. It’s difficult because they are the finest pair you’ve ever seen: thick, with deceptively soft curves of muscle. Those beautiful curse marks loop around him and you lick the front of one appreciatively, lingering over the frost of it as long as you dare. His skin burns on either side of the mark like a fierce, unending explosion. It makes each line feel like a brand under you tongue.

You want to worship them more, but only a handful of his threats are ever idle, so you go to his glory, touch it with gentle reverence, and put your tongue on the dick that has been haunting all your dreams for a week. He sighs in exaggerated boredom as you do your best to coat him in saliva-- you’ll want it there before long. 

When you open wide to take him in, relief makes you smile. But as you move your lips down, there is pain in your face, that sweet kind of pull that is your body screaming that you are forcing your jaw and your your cheeks too far apart. But you don’t think you can get too far apart, and more importantly you want that cock in your mouth, so you keep going like the scream means nothing. Even when you think you feel individual sinews go threadbare, you stretch. You settle your hands gratefully on his hips and use them to ground yourself so you can take him down your throat as far as he will go.

And when you do, massive hands at the back of your head pull you down even farther. You’re already choking, and this little bit more makes you gurgle. Makes your body wriggle.

“All you’re good for,” he sighs, “And you’re not even good. Open.”

You try. You think you are open, it’s not a matter of you being closed, just that there is only so far into you he can go like this. But you wouldn’t say that even if the air for words could make it into your windpipe. Instead, you relish the coarse, beautiful hairs you can feel being shoved up your nostrils, the ones that make you want to sneeze. The ones your oxygen-deprived brain wants to snort like drugs right off his belly all the way down to the dick in your mouth. But there’s no place for air to move from your nose to your throat. He has blocked you from air itself.

“Swallow, then,” he growls. He’s not giving you cum, he wants the ripple of your throat moving around him. “Or I’ll squeeze that neck to nothing.”

You don’t have the control you would if your throat were not so full. But you try, and he sighs in a way you think is not entirely disgusted with you. He doesn’t crush your neck, at any rate (not from the outside in, at least). He does squeeze your skull with his fingertips wide around your head and push your face off him by the force of his thumbs above your eyebrows. You can feel when his cockhead slides from your throat because the crown of it flares out in the back of your mouth, no longer compressed.

He does it a few more times. Sukuna is lazy about it, and when you dare to look up at his face he is staring into some middle distance until one eye catches you. His face splits into a half dozen grins, a ghoul with too many teeth. He shoves you down again after that and doesn’t look at you any more. You get a none too gentle slap on the back of your head. He could easily slap you so hard your teeth went flying, so you are grateful as you gag.

“That’s enough,” he says after a few moments. He pushes you back by the shoulder. As you try to wipe your drool from his balls and keep your coughs quiet, he hums thoughtfully and looks into that middle distance again.

“D’ya wanna sit down?” Itadori chirped as you paced around him and the little table. “You can have the chair.”

You giggled at him and shook your head. “Not the chair,” you purred as you slipped your hands over his shoulders to rub them while you leaned down behind him to whisper in his hear. “Don’t want the chair. I want Sukuna.”

And then your hands slid further down to his ribs and tickled him, and you pressed your nails between his bones when he hooted uncomfortably. Sweet idiot probably thought you were making a bad joke. But not even that had brought Sukuna out. Not so much as an extra smirk, that you could see.

“Surprised?” you whispered sweetly. “Gotta be more on your guard, Itadooooori~”

Sukuna drawls “Surprised?” and you are, but you are also, idiotically, delighted. Before your eyes, he’s grown another cock, jutting out from that crown of hair that was in your nose not a moment ago. A twin to the first, just a rosy, thick, and mouthwatering. It came into being with an odd shhhhisss of gray, sulfur-smelling steam, and though he has neglected to give himself a second pair of balls, you have no doubt the new dick is capable of spewing more gooey, deeply damned cum than your body can hold. 

“Get up,” he says, as though he isn’t tugging you by the arm. You can only go where he allows in this space, it’s part of the domain’s power. Your clothes cling to you until another of his hands rip them off. The back seams, especially the neckine of your blouse, dig in deep before they tear and run forward across your skin for him to toss into the fathomless black of the shrine.

You wonder if you’ll ever know the inside of it. You don’t have the shame to keep you from peeking as you stand there in the murky sludge. Without your clothes you realize it is oddly humid and cool at the same time here, like a stormy day’s dusk. Your breasts feel heavy in it.

He doesn’t do anything to them. His nails scrape your belly instead, and his thumb lodges itself right between your pussy lips, the useless armor of your underwear serving only to show what he’s going to tear next. Maybe. You spare a thought to not wearing any from now on so that whenever he next takes pity on you, he’ll see that you are always available and knows-- surely he already knows-- how willing you are. Maybe you can burn them all in some kind of offering to him. You wonder if there’s a phase of the moon he likes best, you could make your fire under it.

“This isn’t from the water,” he drawls. “And you’re too stupid to piss yourself in fear, huh?” His thumb curls back and forth against your clit like the rocker on a toy horse, and the point of his nail drags against the gusset of your panties. He could shred the fabric (and you) in an instant if he chose. You are so empty inside you nearly wish he would. You crave your own blood.

Sukuna rolls his eyes and mutters about how you only want one thing, and then, more carefully than you ever imagined, he uses that sharp nail to scratch a slit into the two layers of fabric. A big enough cut that you feel the obsidian smoothness of his thumbnail when it touches you where you are most weak, most stupid, most needy. You nearly drool again, and you do feel a small flow of saliva against the front of your mouth like a wave on the shore of a lake. When you swallow it back, it sounds like a gulp.

Of course that makes him laugh. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he whispers, and shifts so when he presses the sharpness of the nail, it dents your wet lips. Your stupid brain thinks if he goes deeper and makes you bleed, he can use the smear of fluid to help him fuck you. There is no sense left in you to worry about being hurt.

But Sukuna doesn’t hurt you. Not like that, anyway. He does press, and he does move the tip of the nail down, like he is making a point about being in control. But he does not split your skin. When you whimper, he lets up on the pressure to grab your ruined panties and rip those from you, too, pulling a burn low on your back to match the one your shirt collar left behind your neck.

He sniffs gingerly at the ripped cloth in his hand and makes a face. “Nasty,” he says, tossing the fabric up and incinerating it in the air. “I have to breathe through my mouth with you. But you’re wet enough to use.” He doesn’t rise from his seat, but a few of his hands gather you by your waist and he uses the grip to raise you and aim your pussy at his body without bringing you close enough for contact. Sludge drips from your toes into the water and your hands dangle uselessly.

“Please.” The request is gurgled even though your airway is clear now. Your head bounces back from your neck like a yoyo as his arms jostle you into place. You don’t feel in any real danger of breaking-- to a sane person, this would be alarming, because you are not at all supported above your waist. The muscles of your back and neck stretch to let you look down your body so you can watch and wait for the moment when he breaches you, finally, and takes what you are offering.

He smiles. “Please what?” All the eyes on his face are little crescents and it’s beautiful, he’s beautiful. He doesn’t look like a curse or a king, to you Sukuna looks like a god. Even when he snaps his sharp teeth at your silence, his bite in everything you have ever wanted served to you with mint and honey instead of sulfur and stormwater filled with mosquito larvae.

“Please use me, please fuck me,” you beg. You want to ask loudly, respectfully, but the words come out as whispers. Your head feels cottony from the tension of your position.

He wrinkles his nose at you and you mourn the gleeful crescents. “Not for you,“ he warns. “I’m just bored.”

“That’s fine,” you croak gratefully, letting your head loll back in relief and sagging in his hold. You can feel the curve of the back of your head against the flesh of the back of your neck and wonder what the angle of your body looks like to allow that. “It’s an honor,” you add. Your tongue nearly falls back and chokes you. The angle must be bad.

Sukuna laughs without smiling and teases you with both cockheads. They slip through your untouched wetness thick and strong until he goes a little higher and the touch to your clit squeezes a squeak out of you. You sound like a rodent even to yourself.

He is so close and still not in you. He is a curse, he’s a hundred curses and a thousand nasty words and a million teases. You want him in a billion ways. He nudges you again and the moan that comes out of you is much lower than the squeak. It’s ghastly and impolite. He strokes one of your thighs for some reason.

You’re waiting for him to hurt you with that hand when he slips one cock in instead, and as you’re gasping he lifts your hips. Quickly, you realize he is using your body to catch the other head when he pops it inside. There’s no hesitation and of course there’s no cheerleading, he does as he pleases and you take it. When he brings you halfway down both lengths you already have drool on your cheeks, heading back to your ears, and you are making stupid guh... ah... sounds. You’re nothing but a sleeve, full at last, and you feel like an honored sacrifice. The relief makes you delirious, blissed out as he moves you. It is only the tight, cold burn of him forcing you wide open at the entrance to your pussy that makes you hiss from pain. But it is a pain you like and if he pulls out you think you’ll cry.

You should know you’ll cry anyway. He pulls you so smoothly over all the strong bumps and veins on him, and you feel every single one. If he does, they don’t give him any pause. An ugly sound flies out of you like songbirds and sunshine would move to flee the morbidity of this place. Sukuna may be a god in your addled mind, but your second moan is not a holy thing. It is not at all unhappy, either. His thickness births universes behind your eyelids.

“Thank me,” he says. You aren’t used to hearing him sound anything but lazy or cruel, but his instruction there sounded... tense.

You try, of course, but you choke, and the coughs from your belly to try to clear your airway mostly make your body grip him instead of helping you breathe. He groans and you feel like you’re being blessed even as you fight your own spit out of your throat. “Thank me,” he repeats, and squeezes your middle. The pads of his thumbs are so wide they feel like hands, like his hold is somehow backwards. You find yourself less confused when the points of his nails press into your belly and back and you warble out a shriek. 

“I can just kill you if you don’t listen. It would be more fun,” Sukuna rumbles. “Your insides might be sexier than your outsides.”

You have no way of knowing, and still no way of talking, either. He keeps going as his pointed grip pulls you away, wrong, the wrong way, the slide making an awful shuccccck as your sex clings to its own destruction and you try to make the word no! at least five times before you just give up.

“Maybe that’s a better plan,” he murmurs. His voice has gone tight again, and you haven’t stopped coughing so you spare a dizzy hope that it is your body making him this way. “Maybe I’ll pierce you from the inside out and see what noise you make then.”

You keep choking, but you manage to get out an appreciative sound. Hot tears from the coughing and the pain of the sharp points of his nails stream down your temples, into your hair. You can tell those points are the scarcest pressure from splitting your skin, but they don’t. They press deep without cutting, like grass or rice under your knees during a childhood punishment. Your skin rebels only by focusing on the pain, because it can do nothing to fight it off. The feeling is like tingles, and every tingle has a knife.

“Jut be grateful and shut up then,” Sukuna grunts. “You don’t have to be in once piece for this.”

And then he sets about ripping your soul into halves and subdividing you every capacity for thought. His method of pulling and pushing you is unpredictable, but the filling is everything you wanted. He moves you and it scrapes your insides, not in a way that makes you bleed, not in a way that hurts you. Simply in a way that reflects that you bodies are not made for this and he’s inside you anyway, beyond the limitations your body cannot relax as easily as your brain let go of every safety measure. Your limits don’t matter. Maybe he’ll grow a finger on the tip of one cock and use it to tug your cervix out of the way.

You know that would hurt, but you just make a soft, dreamy noise.

He’s too big like this, and it still stings your overstretched entrance. One dick is formidable. Two should not even be possible, but there he is, the front of his hips flush with yours, that vivid pink hair (somehow as lovely as spring’s first, umblemished flower, despite the way you know it smells like man and dirt and sex) tangling with your own like a vine hellbent on choking out another. His balls are pressed against your ass, heavy and hot. He’s just so very big. That’s fine inside, but your skin feels so fragile where he goes in. The bulge of the twin root is straining you wider than birth, you imagine.

Oh god. If you were so lucky as to birth his child one day...

Bliss escapes you in shrill scream as he grinds you down on him, and he laughs, so beautiful you do it again. So does he.

“Let it hurt,” he whispers, using his grip to squeeze you again. He’s not fucking you, he is using your body to fuck himself, and he’s lazy about it, keeping that sting sharp and constant. But the feeling of him stretching your insides, battering you with size alone and then pulling you away to let your pathetic walls collapse back on themselves, then stretching you again is all so incredible it doesn’t matter. “I want this to be fucking you up, silly cunt,” he adds. The murmur sounds sweet despite the words. “A gaping hole is the only thing you want from me that I’ll ever give you.”

If you had any control over your body you’d have come from that gravelly insult alone. You don’t. He seems set on using you like a sleeve, something with no other purpose than to relieve his boredom.

How you wish that could be your life, to sheathe however many cocks he feels like having at a time and letting them split you wider than your body is meant to go. Your tears now are from satisfaction, and the fastest ones manage to slide down the sides of your face while the others are bounced off into the air while he moves you, less lazy now. Maybe he’s working on that gaping hole. The sting feels like lemon juice dripped into a cut so deep it can puddle on a bone. It radiates out into every nerve in the sticky skin that’s tight around him, and it doesn’t stop hurting. It does become warm.

Take his baby, you will your body with alarming clarity. As soon as he puts that scalding cum in you, use it to make a baby, even if it cauterizes you.

Sukuna pulls you flush again, then slides his second hands down to your ankles and tugs you down a little bit more. The tug pops your knees, and the additional depth he’s buried in you shoves the air out of your belly with such finality you swear some of it escapes around your eyeballs.

“This is mine,” he says. His laugh is as dark as the bottom edge of a grave.

You want to come from that, too, but pulled down as you are you are so full you cannot even clench, cannot even tense your muscles. Sukuna may have knocked something important out of its place in your spine. He has certainly stretched you beyond your own use. Even if you live and he sends you back out of the domain, what good will you be?

You can get out alive if you make me a promise, he murmurs in your head. His voice is so silk it feels like it is actually touching you, stroking the inside of your skull with twenty thick, delicate touches that know how to make you do anything they want. It kisses the underside of each eyelid with a forked tongue. He slows to a long, thick slide out of you, long enough that one cock pops out. It slips against your clit in a slow-motion slap. Maybe you’ll even be knocked up after all. A little curse to crawl out of your belly. Some kind of heat making you stupid for that?

Maybe he’s right.

Nah, he chuckles. You’re stupid all the time, aren’t you.

You definitely are where he’s concerned. How your body managed what he did to you, you don’t understand. How can you not be bleeding from it, how does it not hurt more? His cocks together are bigger than a man’s forearm. Maybe ther’s something keeping you safe in this place. Maybe Sukuna himself did something to keep you from tearing.

“Not a chance, slut, you’re just loose.” He laughs so cruelly you know he could never have kissed the inside of your eyelids. You keep right on loving him. “Couple screws loose, too. No wonder Itadori puts up with you. Even he pities you.”

The meaner he is, the more you adore him. He’s making you feel so good. Even though only one is inside, he’s fucking you with both cocks: one slaps against your clit each time the other bottoms out, as far inside as your body will let him go without punching a new hole in you. Even around only one of them, he keeps the lips of your sex stretched wide. Just beyond that stretch, you have a little control again. So you use it to make your dumb cunt milk him like you have any say over when he comes, and your stupid back helps your idiot hands fly up and clasp together around the back of his neck like you have any power over whether he embraces you. In your bones and your belly you crave him like an addict, the way nature makes invisible particles to seek out others that constantly repel them. Your need for him is molecular, undeniable.

“God, please come in me,” you beg.

The king of curses roars a derisive laugh and when you wince he manifests as black, grinning flames behind your tightly-shut eyes. “Am I your god?” he mocks between laughs. He pulls you down harder than before and grinds himself against your clit like he can juice it, and lets your long, long wail cut through the silence of his domain, usually such a silent place. “You’re no more than a hole, no one cares about your womb or what you want.”

You would not dare mention the baby, but you sob with relief when Sukuna begins to move his hips now, pushing in deeply each time he pulls you back down. It is like you are being pummeled inside and out, and your body aids the process by making meager but enthusiastic cream around him. How much of it is yours? How much might be his? Because he is so strong, you can feel the flare of his cockhead every time it pushes deep and every second it spends drawing back, pushing outward within your body like some kind of wicked umbrella. You become aware of his grunting and a rhythmic swelling and reducing inside you, a... pulsing. The thought his entire cock might be expanding makes you shout with joy, bearing down on him with all your walls as your body tenses and his does, too. You clutch at him with everything you are.

There is a definite expansion then-- two, actually. He becomes harder and thicker, bloated inside your body, and your arms fly away from him as your back bows and your lower belly domes outward from the hot streams of cum he is pouring into you in quick, inhuman gushes. You can feel a new stretch of your insides begin as your body jerks backwards, ecstatic. Your stomach continues to go up from the bend of the rest of you.

For a moment Sukuna is unmoving, pushed in so deep you feel more of him than you can understand. That sense of swelling obliterates your knowledge of your own physicality. It is like eating too much; your body should have stopped you but it didn’t, and now it hurts. It also means every involuntary squeeze of your muscles trying to change something about the situation feels incredible.

Then the moment passes and he pulls back. Or tries to. He doesn’t get far, he’s lodged in you and his pull makes you moan from how fucking good it is, how satisfied you are with all his cum packed wet and tight and deep, just beyond the seal of his thickness. The unrelenting fullness of it, the rightness of it, and the surprise of that swelling. As your body flexes around everything like an embrace, you see things behind your eyes and you don’t know if they are put there by Sukuna or not: a hornet emerging from a massive nest in bright, hot sun and screaming off into the air; Saturn turning silent and slow and cold; five grubs in a burrow in the earth, noisily destroying roots.

He tugs back again with a low “Fuck,” and then you moan because it doesn’t feel good, not even with his voice. He really did swell inside you somehow, and he’s too big to come out like that. It hurts when he tries and you can’t help whining at the way he’s putting pressure on space that is bruising from the attempt.

“Shut up,” he mutters, and you get the pinpoints of his nails around your full middle. You manage to whimper instead of weep when he tries again, nearly ripping himself out of you from the feel of it. But not quite. You like the way his balls slap you, but it’s not enough comfort-- this is not like the way it didn’t hurt when it was supposed to, this is hurting when it is not supposed to, and even though you remain willing for anything he’ll give you, the hurt is intense. It’s like he’s trying to yank out a branch speared through a tennis ball. Strange enough that he managed to get it into you in the first place.

Sukuna mutters something, ceases his pulling for two blessed seconds, and tries again, this time pulling you up in a terrible copy of the way he moved you before. It is enough force, because even though you don’t want to be, you are ripped off him and there’s a wet plop! and the spatter of his cum falling onto bones and water. You feel a croaky whine behind your teeth, and he slaps one of your breasts.

“I’ll let you sit on the next one if you hush,” he says again, and there’s a terrible sense of sliding between your legs, like he’s got fingers and tongues spreading the lips of your pussy open to find your hole. As though said abraded, overstretched, leaking hole doesn’t make itself obvious enough. You know he left you gaping, just like he said he would. The flow of his cum out of you is too wide.

You wonder about “the next one” until you remember he has two cocks but has only come once. Now that the first swelling is out of you, you’re desperate for another, and his offer to sit on it is golden to you since you are broody as a hen. You hope the next one is another... your brain, your partner in shamelessness until now, doesn’t even want to say the word. 

Another knot. You need that, now to fill up the space he has stretched into you. Sukuna’s knot, as many of them as he’ll give you. That’s what you’ve been craving without knowing it, to be full of his cum in your womb and his cock in your pussy, full full full, all the space in you taken up by him. And though you didn’t even think of it until now, a knot to keep him there. You pray he really will let you sit on the next one. You try your best to hush, to squeeze and quiet even the slowing sound of drips onto the skulls below you.

“That’s right,” he says, the way you’d talk to an animal. “Don’t talk. you’re just a hole, and holes don’t have voices,” he reminds you. He grinds close with the unspent dick that’s already sporting a promising bulge near the base. The other, still half-hard, slides against the cleft of your ass. “An ugly little tub drain. Gonna plug you up and soak.”

You’re as frothy as a bubble bath from his cum oozing out of you and the way you’ve agitated it trying to keep it in. You hope when it shot into you it hit the back of your uterus and bounced into each Fallopian tube. That’s now how it’s supposed to work, but neither is Sukuna. You wish some kind of mark had appeared on your belly.

“Stay quiet and don’t interrupt this,” he whispers, and a tongue as wide as his stomach slips out and licks you from clit to navel. “Quiet as death, hmm?”

You nod as fast as you can and clamp your teeth down on both sides of your tongue.

He smacks your slit with the cock you are going to die without. “This one’s bigger!” he declares.

Lucky you.

“Yeah,” he purrs as the cock pushes down onto you, not into you but onto you, like a leg. “Lucky you, you crazy cunt. Don’t fuck up my son or I’ll turn you into a weathervane.”

And then he slides in easily, until he doesn’t. The bulge is frosty against you, just like the curse marks on his flesh, and it feels like an orange already. Sukuna uses a hand at your back to tip you forward until your knees touch the floor slats of the shrine. He grips you above each hip and by both shoulders.

“Quiet or I’ll rip you a third hole and no baby for you,” he says. You nod again and he laughs so low it registers in your blood like the deepest note of a cello. Then he starts to press. You thought he moved you because surely gravity would help you go down over the knot. It does not seem to help you at all.

“Spread your legs,” he says tersely, tugging one open. You slide-- you’re right on it-- oh, god, it’s like a grapefruit and it has no give, it feels wider than what you took earlier and that was already inside, there’s no way--

Sukuna yanks your other leg outward with a tsk and there’s a splash of blood in your mouth from the way you’ve mashed a hole into your tongue with your teeth. The knot is spreading you, opening you up, but it’s still too big. Still outside.

You see those grubs again in your mind’s eye, snuggled like grotesque puppies a few centimenters below the surface. They’re curled into tiny circles that grow bigger, until the dirt walls of their little burrow are force outward in every direction. Bigger, until they pop through the grass into the moonlight, their pale bodies soaking up the glow. Bigger, until waiting night birds grab them with their beaks and the earth seems to swallow you up again.

“Get out of your head,” Sukuna hisses, “Or I’ll put this so far up your body it’ll come out your mouth.”

You swallow the blood coating your teeth and try to order your pussy to relax, or at least give up. He moves his grip inwards from your shoulders to your throat, and laces his meaty fingers together at the back of your neck. His thumbs stroke the front.

“Don’t you want it enough?” he coos, mocking. His eyes are fixed on yours.

You remember you’re supposed to be quiet. I do, you insist into the emptiness of your skull, it just won’t fit. It’s too big. You’re mournful about it but he is unmoved.

If it’s too big, then it’s a good thing you’re so loose, he answers. And then he pushes and doesn’t stop pushing until your lips fold and finally slip around the knot, which gets bigger the moment it settles into the space your hipbones and organs allow.

‘Too big,’ he grunts in your head. Feels like it fits to me.

His smile is the jagged shadow of a rosebush, but as your eyelids come down heavy you think to yourself that his voice was very soothing just then, as lullaby soft as the rumble of a thunderstorm coming to a place where you are so safe you fear not a single cloud. You already love the worst thing in the world. What else can hurt you? The cum he spurts into you isn’t scalding at all, and when its warmth fades to an exhausted, contented, bubbly blackness, you let it take you under, his panting your realest, dearest lullaby.

When you blink back into consciousness, you are slumped over a still out, still seated Itadori. He’s snoring gently, relaxed. Nothing like Sukuna at all. Even in sleep he’s got a sweet, gentle smile. Such a good kid. You want to let him rest, and you want to get out of here and get some rest yourself.

Carefully, you slide a foot to the floor, then the other. Your legs straddle one of his and there’s a concerning stickiness where your crotch rests against his uniformed thigh. Sukuna saw fit to release you from his domain with your clothes back in place, aside from the panties. You wonder if there’s any trace of the ash of them on the floor of the shrine.

You manage to get your balance and move off Itadori’s leg. There’s a terribly wide, glossy spot on his trousers, and you gawk at it for a moment, wondering if there’s a way for you to clean it up. While you think, more cum rushes out of you, spattering against the white tile floors like the first load had spattered against bones.

Sleeping Beauty makes a noise and moves his head in a bleary way, and you decide to just beat it. You mouth a sincere “Sorry, Itadori,” and get the hell out of there, keeping your footfalls light around the tiny puddles you make as you run. Messier than you want to be but less so than you expected, Sukuna’s spend sluices down the insides of your legs, clinging. You press a hand against the front of your skirt and grind it against the ache between your legs, hoping the fabric will soak up any would-be trail that might follow you when you leave the building. And like that, you sneak, sore as hell, from corner to corner, all the way back to your room.

On the way there, you feel a wriggling in your belly that seems... exploratory. It moves like a fish in a new bowl, fluttering and bumping against its confines. Mischievous. It could be your body setting itself back in order after the time in Sukuna’s domain, or revolting from the way you were used. But as you take the last few steps to your door, cum sluggishly oozing out onto the lining of your skirt, you suspect it is something much more lasting and malevolent, something you’ll need to get used to.

You’re so excited you put a hand over your mouth as you sink the floor of your room.

[maskyartist]

What was the most heartstopping moment for Augustus and Donatella when Raz was young?

theres like two major ones i can think of.

theres one time when Raz was learning how to fall properly he actually ended up falling wrong and spraining his ankle. that was pretty stressful for their first real injury with their son. of course they were both there so the ankle was tended to just fine but yknow, thats some scary shit.

and then theres the OTHER time when Frazie, who was practicing tightrope walking from pretty high up, ended up falling on Raz n breaking his arm. took a lot of money to get Raz's arm patched up (not that thats a problem but the dent in their wallet wasnt pretty), and there was a lot of fretting and crying and apologies from Frazie, even after Raz forgave her, but he got better :D

but one common thing through both of these events is that Raz always managed to shake off the "oh god im injured" part pretty quick. he was fast to get back on his feet and was always eager to forgive, forget, and try again! he was super stubborn, still kinda is (blame Dona's genes for that one), and always wanted to do more stuff even with his injuries!

so while Donatella and Augustus weren't happy with how many accidents had happened with their middle child, they're very glad he's such a stubborn boy because they're both positive he'd hate the circus WAY MORE then he already does if he wasnt

[cadyrocks]

Saw Love and Thunder. Mild spoilers ahead.

It was fine. Not Waititi's best work, not as good as Ragnarok, but definitely an enjoyable popcorn flick.

Suffers, like many Marvel projects, from a serious difficulty taking anything seriously. Like, I'm sorry, Thor getting in a fight with his magic axe because it's jealous about him caring about Mjolnir? It's so silly and absurd that it makes it very hard for the scenes that are supposed to be powerful or poignant to work. It's this constant tonal whiplash. In one scene, Thor is having an "argument" with his axe (me and the person I watched it with disagree on this subplot; she thinks it's so stupid it's awesome; I think it's so stupid it's stupid). In the next, our protagonists are being tortured by shadow tentacle monsters. In one scene, a child uses her stuffed rabbit to annihilate hordes of monsters (monsters we're supposed to be somewhat concerned about, mind you); in the next, multiple major characters are having a battle of rhetoric for the fate of the universe while slowly dying.

Guardians of the Galaxy and its sequel managed this tightrope walk between lighthearted humor and heavy subject matter well. Love and Thunder does not, and suffers as a result. The individual scenes are all pretty excellent - I gripe about the rabbit scene in the overall structure but as an individual scene it's absolutely amazing - but they tend not to cohere very well, particularly with the "Natalie Portman has stage 4 cancer and is not handling it well" subplot.

On the level of individual scenes, I have to critique most of the fight scenes. For most of the movie up until the end of act 2, not a single fight feels meaningful or impactful. It's all Thor and Friends utterly demolishing endless waves of mooks and shadow monsters, none of which do anything resembling bleeding. Unless Gor is personally fighting, the stakes seem virtually nonexistent, and there's no drama. This is pretty funny in the opening fight scene, establishing just how much Thor out lasses the Guardians in terms of raw strength, but it just keeps happening long after it stops being an interesting setup.

So what does work?

Well, the "Thor is an emotionally unstable dick who his friends are entirely right to hate" opening is extremely well done. Gor is a great villain (who belongs in a movie that takes itself far more seriously) and owns basically every scene he's in. The beat where Thor gets stripped naked and Zeus's female entourage faints is just absolutely hilarious; yes, Chris Hemsworth is a very sexy man, glad we got that settled. The aforementioned bunny rabbit scene is incredible. While the cast talking up the movie as "super queer" is a very obvious lie, the few small gay scenes, particularly Valkyrie flirting with one of Zeus's entourage, are tasteful and fun. The ending is poignant and heavy and, again, belongs in an entirely different movie from the aforementioned (and genuinely incredible) bunny rabbit scene. Matt Damon's cameo is incredible.

More generally, Taika Waititi's direction shines through. The visuals are excellent and when the movie is allowed to be silly and camp, it looks, sounds, and feels incredible. The vibes are immaculate. Also, it's a bit of a cheap shot for the soundtrack to be mostly Guns And Roses classics, but I am nothing if not a sucker for badass action scenes set to Paradise City. Sue me. It works.

So yeah. Lots of excellent pieces that don't quite fit together, a lot of good actors putting in solid performances, a soundtrack that's just barely on the right side of cliché, no handjobs for the US military-industrial complex, Chris Pratt disappears from the plot after about five minutes, which is about as much Chris Pratt as I'm interested in tolerating these days... It's not bad! It's a perfectly serviceable blockbuster.

It's also gonna be the last Marvel film I watch for a good long while, because throughout the entire movie, I couldn't help but notice those little critiques niggling at me. It's impossible to take anything seriously when everyone's response to everything is witty quips. People don't actually talk or act like that, to an embarrassing degree. There's an attempt to raise the stakes by doing something truly horrific, but we never grapple with any of the consequences or tragedy of that event, and you could have replaced it with Gor stealing Thor's favorite irreplaceable Macguffin for all the impact on the story it ends up having. In other words: it's a Marvel movie, with all that entails. As lovely as Taika Waititi's sensibilities and visual direction are, the fact is we've been here before a few too many times.

As I watched the small city worth of people who worked on this thing roll by in the credits, I couldn't shake the feeling that the Marvel formula has, at long last, become stale. The committee design has run out of ideas. The crowning moments of awesome can't distract me from how shallow and incongruous the whole is. Your flying screaming goats are but yet another plaything in the infinite sandbox of bored, apathetic gods, and I don't care if this gets me uninvited from the Orgy.

[saksukei]

mermaid san au pt.1 [part 2]

(slight mentions of abuse but please know this does not glorify or support it in anyway)

this is really short Bec I have so much work to do and It isn't that good. Once again this post was inspired by warmau and they are one of my favorite writers so pls check them out!!

other mermaid aus; yunho yeosang

Your uncle used to run this really big circus that was super popular

like he earned a shit ton from it

He had clowns, acrobats, trained animals, trapeze acts, musicians, dancers, hoopers, tightrope walkers, jugglers, magicians, unicyclists etc

and he was also occasionally nice but really ,,,,, he was just another one of those assholes who were cheapskates, who did not care about the damage they did and definitely had a superiority complex

You always used to visit him during the summer vacations just as you were doing this time

He hadn't changed a bit honestly ,,,, he had just gotten streaks of white hair

“kiddo, I got a big surprise–if only it works, our circus will become such a big hit and we'll become billionaires for sure,” he explained.

“what'd you find this time?” you asked. “please don't say it's a skunk that knows how to do tricks.”

“no, it's even better!” he exclaimed as you followed him to the back, to his cabin.

“its also a secret so don't tell anyone,” he whispered as he opened the door.

You went inside and you saw this huge cage with walls made of glass and water inside it. The water was illuminated by some light in the room, but aside from that it was just dark.

“step closer–the jerk doesn't move from his place,” your uncle hissed, as his phone started to ring. “i have to take this call, so be careful,” he told you as he left the cabin.

You inched closer to the glass, hoping to see something inside.

and then you did ,,,,,,

a boy with black hair and red streaks covering his face, his arms folded and–

THE TAIL

the black tail

you couldn't see it clearly

but you were surprised bECAUSE WHERE DID YOUR UNCLE GET THAT???

you didn't even realize you were staring till

suddenly

you saw a pair of eyes staring at you

HE WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU AND OMG

melanin skin, a perfectly structured face, sharp jawline, a very visible Adam's apple and the curves of his muscles were very evident.

That jet black hair with red streaks of his was falling straight into his eyes and you made the assumption that the dude was an emo boy

You focused on his tail and it had diamond scales, black and red streaks just like his hair and it was so beautiful and magnificent omg

the boy looked at you with a certain curiosity

but then your uncle came in

“you got him to move!” your uncle exclaimed, causing you to jump up. “great let's take him to the other tank–” he called a few of his helpers and the only thing that you could see was ,,,,,

the look of betrayal in the mermaid's eyes that had trusted you enough to come close to see you

The next few days were awful

you couldn't get that look on his face out of your mind

like–???

and so you decided

When everybody would be asleep, you'd go out to the tank and find the mermaid and talk to him or whatever

and so you did

he was in this really large tank which was at the back

the top was open

so you climbed up the stairs that led to the top were a bit far from the tank itself

you just ,,,,, sorta sat there not knowing what to say as you fiddled with hoodie

“you know, I really hate that uncle of yours–” you heard a deep voice say and you looked up

the mermaid was right in the middle of the tank, doing back strokes.

“he's not that bad–” you replied.

“you're only saying that because he's your uncle but we both know he's an incoherent bastard–” the mermaid swam closer towards the stairs, where you were.

“d-don't say that, mister” you retorted.

“its San– not mister,” he told you.

“okay, well San ,,,,,,, I know my uncle sounds like this really bad man but he's just trying to make a living.”

“a living by killing– ironic don't you think?”

“fine, you win,” you sighed. “how did you get caught even? I thought mermaids never existed.”

“well, mermaids do exist, in a very large quantity too at that,” he explained. “i only got caught because I tried to save my best friend from being caught.”

“well, I'm sorry this happened,” you replied. “I'm afraid to tell you but I can't do much to get you out of here–”

“i know that– but for some weird reason I trust you enough to talk to you.”

“thank you for that–” you smiled. “is there anything you'd like that I can get? Food or maybe I don't know ,,,,, a seashell?”

He smiled

aND OH MY GOD???? HIS DIMPLES? HES A FLUFFY BABY IM– n e way

“no, nothing really– just make sure your uncle doesn't drown by accident,” he teased

“san I will kick your ass if he does.”

the next few days, you hung out with san late night

You found out that he had saved his best friend Wooyoung from being caught ,,,,, and like san is one of the most geniuine people to exist

he's so sweet, loving and caring omg

and you started feeling hella bad when in the mornings you'd see the entire circus practice and you saw your uncle train San and beat him up when he didn't perform

like your heart geniunely broke when you heard him yelp every time your uncle grabbed his hair

not only that ,,,,, you saw the line of purplish blue bruises staining his skin, even if he pretended they were nothing

and you wanted to literally push your uncle into the tank and say it was an accident

so you had finally decided,

you were going to break San out whether your uncle liked it or not

San didn't deserve this torture and you sure as hell didn't want to see him like this

you climbed up to the tank

“san–” you called out

“h-hey,” he replied as he got out of the water, as he came closer to you.

“san I want to get you out of here,” you explained. “but um can you walk outside water?”

“no I can't,” he broke eye contact as a sigh escaped his lips, “I'm fine here. I don't want to escape.”

“WHAT?” you yelled, a look of disbelief on your face. “san your entire body is covered in bruises, you're so much thinner than you first came here, heck i'd say you're practically dying,” you rambled on. “Yet here I am, helping you escape and you're saying 'no'?”

“yes, I'm saying no,” he answered. “i don't want to jeopardize your relationship with your uncle.”

“pardon my French but– what the fuck do you mean choi san? Do you think I care about some relationship when you're covered in bruises like this? I can't see you getting hurt like this– please. You don't deserve this.”

“i know but– you'll get hurt at the end of this and ,,,,,,, I just”

“just what?” you hissed.

“i won't be able to see you, anymore,” he answered shyly, as he looked down. “and I think that's worse than any punishment I'll ever get.”

[frick6101719]

Hi please write me a naughty Everlark headcanon ok bye

Anon I did not know it was naughty Everlark hours but you are RIGHT it is that time!

I don't actually know if there is general fandom consensus about this particular detail, but I see Everlark moving toward their first time in an almost-circular kind of way. I think after everything they've been through, despite being very into each other (beach scene beach scene beach scene) they're going to be going sloooow, as much as possible. I think it takes them a while to kiss, after Katniss sees him planting flowers that day, because even though they both want it so badly they're trying to be careful with each other. Katniss wants to be sensitive about Peeta's hijacking, and not make assumptions about what he wants or how he would feel if she did surprise him with a kiss, and Peeta likewise doesn't want to assume that Katniss is ready for their relationship to go like that just yet.

That first kiss though... it sets the ball a-rolling.

I think their interest in moving slowly sometimes means more to them than other times. I mean sometimes Peeta leaves Katniss's house after dinner with just a sweet and tender kiss goodbye, like they've agreed to. Other times, despite their plans to take it slow, they find themselves moving from the threshold to the couch at breakneck speed, and someone is making very not-PG sounds that they really hope Haymitch can't hear because the front door is still wide open.

Sometimes they just do some gardening together behind their homes, chatting about plants and whether it would be a good idea for Peeta to get some chickens. Other times he takes his shirt off because it's too hot, and well Katniss didn't know that was an option but she's hot too so why not? And the garden hose comes out and it's playful but also it's really not and as they stand just inside the side door, stripping off their soaked and muddy clothes, "accidentally" brushing arms and standing in each other's space... well, who really knows who starts it? And fuck if kissing while nearly naked and laughing doesn't feel better than anything they could have dreamt.

After that it's just finding more poorly-constructed excuses to take their clothes off around each other. They're moving slow though damn it so they won't take it all off (not most of the time, anyway...) and they won't get naked into a bed together (at least, they won't until they do...) but it's still a long time and many nights spent touching and kissing and exploring and getting closer and closer to sex before they're ready.

Furthermore, because of this slow build these two are the reigning champions of tightrope-walking the fine line between "too cute" and "sexy as fuck". Bath time together? Yeah sure that can be intimate but it can be casual why not? They can be tooth-rotting-ly adorable one moment, Peeta bopping Katniss on the nose with a suds-soaked finger, and the next moment those fingers are up to something far more nefarious but the love-struck and kind of dorky look on their faces hasn't changed. Katniss might swing by the bakery one evening when she's returning from the woods, offering her help cleaning the oven and washing all the pans while they talk about their days, and then wind up pressed up against the wall with her legs wrapped around Peeta's waist, not entirely sure how they got there. She's still telling Peeta about the wildflowers taking bloom on the hillside, while his mouth is leaving marks down the side of her neck.

(They're very glad for this skill when their kiddos come along and time alone together is at an all-time scarcity. Being able to turn an innocent situation into a sexy one is pretty much a parenting super-power)

[carltonlassie]

At the expense of sounding like a yuppie who takes superfoods, an essay on our relationship with food, capitalism, culture, and allowing ourself to nourish ourselves

It’s the year 2022 (I say twenty twenty….. part two!), and we’ve been in this pandemic for way too long. It feels like it’s never going to end. We’ve somehow made it to the point where we are walking on a tightrope, managing that nice balance of being in a global pandemic, but having to go to work/school still. It’s incredible. How did we end up in this awful timeline. (I know why, but still, incredible that we are here experiencing unprecedented times over and over as late stage capitalism breaks its own record over and over)

And, at the beginning of the pandemic, some people were happy that they had more time now to be able to try out different foods, cook hearty meals that they couldn’t otherwise, and just have fun. We were all in it together, doing challenges like dalgona coffee (manually stirring the instant coffee mix to make it super frothy like a meringue. we had to expend our energy somehow lol). We were trying to have fun, and we did, for a short while.

But now, I think we’re back to the point where we are tired of everything. We are burnt out—the lack of human interaction, the lack of outdoor time, the lack of energy to cook because your kitchen looks like shit and you can’t even begin to think about cooking because it entails cleaning the kitchen, only to have to clean it again after you’re done cooking. God. The Sisyphean ordeal continues on.

And honestly? We’re not given enough time to eat either! We don’t even have time to have a proper lunch break, and let alone cook a hearty meal for ourselves and the people we love. Who has had meetings that spill over to lunch, but it’s fine because it’s like virtual so you could be cooking in the background or something? It never works that way. It really is insidious in the sense that eating is something that we all need to do—it’s at the very bottom of the needs that need to be fulfilled—but we aren’t given the time to do so.

In a traditional… patriarchal marriage situation, the wife does all the cooking and cleaning, so the husband and the kids only have to eat. My coworkers seem to be having a great time eating food that’s being delivered to their desks as they take this meeting, while i’m starving because I had to spend my time taking care of my dog that’s getting way too antsy. Or I’m held hostage in a meeting way longer than I need to because they’re having a grand old time. I end up eating instant noodles, kinda inhaling it before my next meeting because that’s the fastest thing I can whip up that’s going to be the most filling. Then, I end up sitting in front of my desk feeling like shit, because surprise, flour products make me feel incredibly bloated bc I’m gluten sensitive.

And this can’t be good, in the long run.

I remember in college, our dining hall was pretty abysmal. I think that’s how it is in most dining halls, but you know, what can you do? This town doesn’t have like a grocery store that’s accessible for a lot of the students (unless you can walk miles and miles to the big store along the highway when it’s -30F outside), so we ended up relying on the dining hall for all of our food. And on days where the dining hall doesn’t really have anything to eat, especially for people with food allergies, the options were severely limited. So what ended up happening was, even though I am gluten and sensitive and lactose intolerant, I ended up eating bunch of bagels and cream cheese, because that was the most energy efficient thing I could find. There weren’t enough fruits and vegetables either, so I ate canned peaches (even though i’m allergic to peaches? not sure how that works with canned peaches), which is better than nothing, but you try to spend a whole semester of college by eating just bagels and deli meats, and maybe some cucumbers if they don’t look too slimy? It really wrecks you! And on top of the stress that you get from school and work, your body really just doesn’t get the time to recharge! So in the long run, it accumulates and you end up getting hive attacks and panic attacks out of nowhere, because your cortisol levels are off the charts from all the stress. Immune system also shot to shit—my IgE levels were off the charts! The usual reference range is 1.5-144 kU/L, and I was somewhere around 200 (the nurse who brought the chart back actually said that she’s never seen anything like this before), and obviously I was feeling the effects. Like, feeling absolutely shitty, depressed, getting hive attacks, inflamed like hell etc. etc.

And the funny thing is, you come to the point where you start missing foods that you could get from back home. You were soooo done with it before, but now, you end up craving certain foods. You have no idea, because you didn’t like them before and hardly touched any of it when you had it on your dinner table. Life is funny like that, but I think our body knows and remembers. When we get that sudden craving, I think it’s our body telling us that we are in need of certain things that can be fulfilled by eating that thing. We just need to listen.

I may be going on a tangent here, but you know how a lot of Asian foods and ethnic foods are called “disgusting” “nasty” “stinky” etc. etc. when they are actually recipes perfected by generations of people? Our ancestors perfected the recipe to deliver the most amount of nutrients and effects, even without doing a nutritional analysis of all the ingredients that go in. They didn’t have the breakdown of proteins, vitamins, trans fat, cholesterol, what have you, but you know that once you have that meal, you feel nourished and happy.

It’s a whole DNA cultivated by generations of food scientists, and they did it all out of love. To feed their families, to feed their villages, to feed their community. And a lot of the “disgusting” food came out of poverty and scarcity of good ingredients, but our ancestors found a way to make it work so we get enough nutrients to eat and survive, and ultimately thrive. (sorry, getting emosh here, your grandma’s recipe is actually from her grandma, and her grandma, and her grandma, and so on and so forth.)

So… from Korean food, take blood sausages, for example. It’s a cheap street food in Korea, and it’s kind of gross if you think about it: you’re just eating cooked pigs blood, along with bunch of organs like heart, lungs, and liver. I’ve never actually had the stomach to eat those bc sensory issues, but they are a great source of iron and vitamins! To vegans it may sound appalling, but this was what was available, and this is what they ate.

Seollongtang is another example. It’s a milky, rich soup made of ox bones, and it’s got a neat lil story to go along with it. It can be traced all the way back to the king who found the first Korean kingdom (2333BC?). He made that bone broth soup to feed everyone with a limited amount of ingredients. He let the bone simmer in the water forever to get all the nutrients out, and then he was able to feed everyone in town. We still have restaurants that specialize in the soup!

I guess what I’m saying is, that there’s is a community aspect to traditional food that your culture has been preparing. It was meant to be shared with your family, your town, your community, and heal and nourish everyone around you. All that is missing these days. Everyone has their own kitchen, and they are supposed to cook for themselves while they’re working however many jobs. And also, we’re not given time to listen to our body and what it needs to stay healthy. I don’t think some of us even know that our body needs certain things, or we actively try to ignore it, because for some reason, we think we don’t deserve it. I think it’s time to change all that. Like, fuck it, I’m going to eat what my heart desires and what makes me feel good.

I don’t know what I had against taking supplements, like maybe I thought ‘oh I’m not eating raw food to get all the nutrients I need, I’m cheating by taking some pills instead,’ but I’m realizing that we should take time to nourish our body, and if that’s the way to do it, then maybe we should?

You know we’re not given time to cook a fucking bone broth soup every day, so what’s wrong with taking collagen supplements, or drinking premade bone broths from the grocery store? I guess I’m just trying to come up with a way to accept that I need to nourish my body, and that I shouldn’t feel guilty. I don’t know what kind of twisted societal standards got into my head, but why did I think drinking protein shakes and smoothies were yuppie white girl shit LMAO.

What I’m saying is, like fuck it, I’m gonna take whatever that helps me feel good and healthy, and if I have to spend more money so that I can feel like a functioning person rather than surviving on rationed fucking meals like i’m at war? i’m gonna do it. Why do I hesitate to spend money on myself? To nourish myself? To feed myself? Fuck that, I’m going to take care of myself. Maybe this is a Venus in Capricorn retrograde lesson for those who are astrologically inclined: as the planet of love and value retrogrades, we’re invited to reassess what and who we value, and as it’s transiting my first house, I’m choosing to value myself and love myself.

Obviously not everyone can afford to do this, so I’m in a privileged position to be able to buy the supplements and take them. And these aren’t the only brands or things that you can take to also make yourself feel better—food is a very very personal journey, and to be able to find out what works best for you is difficult, because we have to be able to listen to our body and allow ourselves to take the things that you really need. It’s hard to slow down and actually assess yourself and realize that you were lacking in something. Like I said many paragraphs ago, we are actually not given the time to do that as we’re always on the “grind” 💀 And when you’re depressed, it becomes incredibly fucking hard to motivate yourself to actually cook something nice for yourself.

I think it’s completely fine to use supplements. It’s not a trick or a shortcut, because if we start to feel better have more energy and have more time, who knows? Then we can actually start to cook “real food“ but even so, we don’t HAVE to because wow science.

Anyways, if you made it this far, congrats I guess? Thanks for spending time to read my rambles and now you’re about to read even more cringe influencer sounding shit.

This is what I am currently taking in addition to my meals, and it has been working for me so far. And maybe I’m doing something wrong, who knows maybe I’ll fucking get a stroke and die because I took too much of some supplement, so consult your doctors I guess if you have access to doctors. It also has been a slow journey to figure out what works for me and what doesn’t, but the most important thing is to listen to your body and be present, I guess.

AM

on empty stomach, take psyllium husk & probiotics. Gut health is linked directly to mental health, like it’s incredible if you have a calm stomach you don’t feel as anxious. Psyllium husk is great to increase your fiber intake, which helps with your bowels obvs, and probiotics help with populating your gut flora <3 You could honestly do yogurt/kefir, but those are difficult to always have in the fridge for me, so I just call it good with a pill a day.

Breakfast

Oatmeal (extra fiber) in bone broth for collagen boost (collagen helps with bone, hair, nails and skin, also gut health apparently. I have sensory issues so I can’t eat too much of the fatty parts on pork belly or the cartilage on chicken bones, but they are a good source of collagen, if you can stomach those. Also, you can actually roast fish bones in the oven and make it crunchy, and just snack on them for the boost! After your mid-twenties, your ability to regenerate shit goes down, apparently, and yeah. It’s great to have the extra boost.)

DRINK

Golden milk with turmeric. Mix turmeric with warm oat milk, with matcha or cocoa powder. Turmeric helps a lot of inflammation and bloating, like it’s incredible how much difference it makes. They also have turmeric capsules if that’s easier. Matcha if I need the caffeine, cacao powder otherwise (healthy fats and other antioxidant properties i guess. I just like choccy milk). Feel free to top with cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, etc. Also adaptogenic mushrooms (turkey tail, reishi) to enhance resistance to stress and promote recovery and homeostasis. These are all powder form from the brand I get, so I mix all of it in hot water + oat milk and drink it like a morning latte. This is the most yuppiest shit I do, but like, it’s great. I’m going to do it forever lmao.

then I eat whatever i have for lunch and dinner lmao

and take omega 3 bc my joints are poppinnnnnnn

anyways. yeah. it’s an ongoing journey, and who knows. All I know right now is that it’s helping, and hopefully that leads to better lifestyle as well. I just need to remember to drink more water lol

[chibimyumi]

hi,i was watching my hero academia and there a character named Tenya Iida uses 'merely' in his sentence that leads him to be identified as from a wealthy family.I noticed, o!ciel often uses it as well, apart from the obvious difference in language with the circus troupe members,are there similar words in japanese that sets the wealthy apart?

【Related post: Japanese and Kuroshitsuji】

Dear Anon,

In episode 9 of My Hero Academia Iida actually just uses the first pronoun ‘boku’ instead of his usual ‘ore’, to which Izuku and Uraraka say: “boku!?”  It is no surprise you have heard O!Ciel use that word as well, because ‘boku’ is the first pronoun he uses for himself.

To be entirely honest, this scene is a BIT of a shoe-horn moment in my opinion because people being inconsistent with their first pronoun is entirely normal in Japanese. I myself switch between ‘watashi’, ‘atashi’ and ‘uchi’ all the time. Regardless, the English translation from Netflix is actually incredibly clever, firstly because English does not have different first pronouns, only ‘I’. So in order to make this astonishment in Izuku and Uraraka work, the subbers would otherwise have to fill the entire screen with translator’s notes.

Iida: Boku wa boku no tadashii to omou handan wo shita made da.

Iida: I merely did what I think is correct

Uraraka/Izuku: Boku!?

Uraraka/Izuku: “I!?” (yeah...that doesn’t work in English)

O!Ciel’s Infiltration Language

Now let us look at Kuroshitsuji wherein Doll comments on O!Ciel’s English.

Doll:

オレ、ベッド上でいー？

Ore, bed ue de iー?

Ya 'ight with me on top bunk?

O!Ciel:

どうぞ、僕は下の方がいいと思ってましたし

Douzo, boku wa shita no hou ga ii to omottemashita shi

Be my guest, I am of the opinion that the bottom tier is preferable anyway.

Doll’s speech in Japanese is very sloppy and she just drags words out. I think the best English equivalent would be “’ight” instead of “alright”. O!Ciel uses the word ‘iー’ too, but instead of dragging it, he speaks it fully, making the word ‘ii’. For translation’s sake, I therefore made his into ‘preferable’, which is a relatively fancy word.

O!Ciel in contrast actually speaks even more refined than he usually does when he is being Earl. (I shall give a comparison later.) Instead of using plain verbs O!Ciel uses formal conjugation.

O!Ciel normally: “Omotteta” (casual)

O!Ciel at Circus: “Omottemashita” (formal)

It is not a perfect equivalent, but in essence O!Ciel’s completeness in conjugation would sound like somebody always saying “I am” or “I can not” instead of “I’m” and “I can’t”. So for translation’s sake, I have chosen “I am of the opinion” for O!Ciel’s line.

O!Ciel’s Normal Language

Something quite interesting is that when O!Ciel is thinking or talking to Sebastian, he reverts to his usual casual speech.

Sebastian! Don’t treat me like your master while we are here! Leave me!

セバスチャン！ここにいる間は僕を主人として扱うな！放っておけ！

Sebastian! Koko ni iru aida wa boku wo shujin toshite atsukauna! Houtteoke!

Had O!Ciel used formal, complete conjugation, then instead of “atsukaUNA” he would have said “atsukaWANAIDE”, and instead of “houtteOKE” he would have said “houtteOITE”.

The same goes for when he was thinking to himself when Doll offered him his own company’s sweets.

Now I can’t just go to his (Sebastian’s) tent anymore, now can I?

これじゃあ奴のテントに行くこともできないじゃないか

Kore jaa yatsu no tent ni iku koto mo dekinai janai ka

 ‘Janai ka’ is casual, whereas in formal it would be ‘ja arimasen ka’.

In short, O!Ciel’s “English” is not necessarily ‘expensive’, just very complete - which is a fairly big contrast with the other circus members (except Jumbo; he speaks fairly formal too). So it is not necessarily that O!Ciel’s speech screams ‘nobility’ or ‘wealth’, it is just that it is more refined than street people’s language. It might be a bit similar to an incredibly poor person/somebody with little cultural capital commenting somebody usinging Nike bags, saying: “Wow, you use Nike? What are you, a millionaire?” Yeah...Nike bags are not super cheap, but that’s not exactly Gucci or Chanel either.

In written English it is a bit hard to convey the difference between O!Ciel’s “English” and that of the circus members. But in spoken English, when you hear a clear RP accent (BBC English) versus somebody you run into in the middle of nowhere, you can also hear that somebody probably had a different background. RP (received pronunciation) is called as such because that pronunciation is deliberately taught and trained. Hence it is ‘received’, and not ‘pre-owned’ pronunciation.

O!Ciel’s Hyper Formal Language

Now speaking of Gucci and Chanel, O!Ciel can actually sound like that perfectly fine. It is the same language Sebastian uses for his master, namely the Japanese death trap know as ‘keigo’ - Japanese hyper formal speech.

When O!Ciel receives important guests he speaks hyper formally. Just to use one example, when greeting Lord Siemens O!Ciel speaks the following:

ご挨拶は会を始めてからに致しましょう  本日はご自由にご歓談頂ける立食式に致しました。

Goaisatsu wa kai wo hajimete kara ni itashimashou. Honjitsu wa gojiyuu ni gokandan itadakeru risshokushiki ni itashimashita.

Let us proceed with the [honourable] greeting once we have begun the party. For the occasion of this day we have [humbly] arranged [for your honourable presence] a standing buffet to offer you enjoyment in your [honourable] chatting.

If you have a headache, that’s normal.

But yes, that is indeed how O!Ciel speaks when he needs to be “a proper Earl”. As explained in this post, the skillful use of ‘keigo’ is a key way to demonstrate good education and class, because a slip up will make one sound like a complete fool, or an arrogant prick (or an arrogant fool...)

O!Ciel has mastered the countless difficulties of ‘keigo’ and is not shy to use it. In the post wherein I explained the trickiness of ‘keigo’ I compared it to tightrope walking. The mastery of ‘keigo’ in essence expresses: “everyone can step onto a tightrope, but only the best reach the other end of the rope in one piece.”

Anyway, that was it ^^ I hope this helped!

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Keigo, identity, formality and flexing

Lost in Translation IV - Meyrin & Keigo: tightrope walking

Frances and Undertaker’s language