#me envisioning them in forms i better understand?

[ddarker-dreams]

Aegis.

Yan Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Yan Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, co-dependency, guilt-tripping, emotional manipulation and gaslighting (thanks Geto). Word count: 2.2k.

This is a yandere AU of the series Golden Girl. You don't have to read GG to understand this story, but it gives additional context.

-Index-

Unbelievable, you think, internally fuming. They’re unbelievable!

You ignore the voice calling your name and descend the mountainside’s decrepit staircase. Overgrown trees drape along the walkway, their wispy branches still from the lack of wind. The local wildlife has fled the vicinity, leaving an eerie silence in their wake, which is soon ruined by two pairs of footsteps approaching from behind. 

“Is it really that big of a deal?” Gojo sighs. You can envision the exasperation on his countenance. “If anything, we should be the ones upset here. You lied to us both and snuck out.” 

This comment travels like electricity through your system, shocking you into place. After a split second of deliberation, you turn on your heel, directly facing the most brazen culprit. He remains still as you march back up, jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest. 

“I’m trying to do my job, which, for whatever reason, you both always find a way to interfere with.” 

Geto, who has remained silent up until that point, finally chimes in. “I get that you’re frustrated, but was this the best way to handle it?” 

You choke out a sardonic laugh. “You’re kidding, right? There’s— there’s just no way.” 

Gojo towers over you, his hands resting on his neck. You can feel his Six Eyes scrutinizing every inch of your being behind his round shades, the intrusive sensation akin to spiders crawling along your skin. Unable to withstand the pressure, you avert your gaze, your irritation turning into anxiety. He’s not happy. Neither of them are, but Geto is better at pretending otherwise. 

“Will you at least consider our perspective?” Geto asks, his voice eerily calm. “Going to your dorm room to find the window open, your belongings in disarray…” 

“After you promised to stay put until we were back,” Gojo impatiently adds. 

His audacity temporarily eclipses your fear, reigniting your indignation. “You’re acting like I’ve had any say in the matter.” 

Geto shakes his head. “Don’t be unreasonable. This was something we all agreed on — if you had any objections, you should’ve said so.” 

“You don’t listen!” You exclaim, the sound accompanied by the flap of birds fleeing the vicinity. How you envy them. “Nothing about this is normal! You’re both seriously freaking me out. Ever since—” 

You cut yourself off, your tongue unable to form the syllables that make Amanai Riko, much less vocalize them. Fighting the tightness in your throat, you continue, “Ever since that day, it’s like you can’t trust me to take care of myself. I hate it. I hate this!” 

Gojo opens his mouth, only to close it when Geto rests a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. The white-haired sorcerer scoffs, yet acquiesces to whatever his companion silently communicated. You remain the odd one out, unable to peer past the one-way glass they’ve placed you behind. Your hands ball into fists by your side and the lump in your throat grows more prominent. Exhaustion, humiliation, and desperation merge, forming manacles that weigh heavy on your limbs. 

You’re pulled up by your arm. You gasp, feeling weightless, mindful of the steep plummet behind you. The grip, though firm, stops shy of keeping you entirely steady so that you must cling to whoever is hoisting you up. Your eyelids squeeze shut out of instinct. When they reopen, you find that you’re facing Gojo, who has removed his sunglasses. 

Geto coils himself around you from behind like a serpent. His arms hug your midriff, holding you in place, while his chin rests atop your head. Your measly attempts to writhe away are met with his hold tightening. Never enough to hurt, just enough to prove a point. Compared to them, you’re like an injured gazelle before two lions. It’s moments like this where they don’t bother hiding the immeasurable gap in strength. 

“We’re just trying to look out for our girl,” Gojo murmurs, his omnipotent eyes devouring every ounce of your existence. “I get it. We can be a little overbearing at times, yeah? But that’s all for you. Everything we do is.” 

You can feel Geto’s chest rumble as he speaks in a low, soothing voice, “You don’t really hate us, do you?” 

… Is that what you said? Blinking rapidly, you glance around for a way out that will never appear. Your breathing turns shallow and your vision clouds around the edges. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Kinda came across that way,” Gojo replies. 

“I— no…” you bite your bottom lip, their native tongue turning into an indecipherable mess inside your head, “I could never. I only want things to be normal again. I want… to exorcize curses, and…” 

Your cheeks flood with warmth as Gojo tilts his head. Suddenly, every request you have feels wrong, laughably insignificant. You shrink into Geto, who is more than happy to have you. 

“Your drive, while admirable, might be better utilized elsewhere. You don’t have to always be on the field to make a difference,” he says.

“Suguru has a point. You’re still nowhere close to figuring out Domain Expansions, right? We’ve gotta work on all that.”

Everything they’re saying makes logical sense. You still have a long road ahead until you’re a proper Sorcerer, a road they blew past with ease. Who better is there to learn from than the best? Gradually, you relax your taut muscles. Geto eases his hold as well. You recall what he asked earlier — if you’d be willing to ‘consider their perspective.’ It doesn’t seem as ridiculous as when the question was originally posed. 

“But… you’re both so busy.” 

“Awe, baby,” Gojo practically coos. He squishes your cheeks together, ignoring your displeased noises. “Has somebody missed us?” 

“Don’t torment her too much, Satoru,” Geto’s chastising is weakened by the clear amusement in his voice. “You know she gets shy.” 

“Isn’t that the best part?” 

You writhe around, their usual teasing instilling discomfort. This time, Geto allows you your freedom, his arms relaxing enough for you to escape. You stand on the step above them, considering your earlier ascent. You had stormed up this staircase with such drive, determined to prove yourself. An abandoned shrine on the mountainside had reportedly been the site of a pesky curse. With both of them gone on separate assignments, you thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to get some firsthand experience…

… Only to find a bored Gojo and visibly disappointed Geto awaiting your arrival. 

A cool breeze whips through the air. 

“Uh oh. It’s never good when she gets that look,” Gojo dramatically cowers away from you, but not before adding, “How about we kiss and make up, hm? No harm done?” 

You ignore Gojo’s antics, settling on a question that’s been gnawing at you. 

“How did you find me?” 

They exchange quick glances. 

Gojo should’ve been in Toyama for another three days, whereas Geto was due back from Osaka tomorrow evening. You’re certain you weren’t spotted by anyone while leaving the school’s premises. 

“We wanted to surprise you by coming back early,” Geto explains. “As for how we found you—” 

Gojo taps his sunglasses and grins. “I’m known for my killer eyesight.” 

You fold your arms over your chest. Are The Six Eyes capable of tracking a person over such a long distance? Getting to this area required a long walk and an hour on the subway. It wouldn’t surprise you if this was within Gojo’s capabilities, but you haven’t heard of anything similar until now. Seeds of doubt sprout inside your mind. Your gut instinct demands a better explanation. Considering the predicament you’re in, you have little bargaining power. If Gojo was by himself, he’d offer you a better hint for amusement’s sake, but Geto doesn’t care for such risks. 

“We were worried something happened to you,” Geto’s eyes glaze over with an emotion you can’t identify. It makes you shiver. “I’m sure you feel uncomfortable, but you have to understand where we’re coming from.”

Silvery strands of moonlight highlight the dark bags beneath Geto’s eyes. Your heart lurches in your chest, leaving you at an impasse. Have you ever seen him so exhausted, so thoroughly drained? He does an excellent job at hiding it, but the physical signs are there. A little voice echoes within your skull, reminding you of your role in his drained condition. 

They wanted to surprise you, it scolds. All you did was cause more trouble.

Guilt prickles your insides like you’d swallowed a handful of needles. 

Your shoulders drop and you stare blankly at the ground. “I’m sorry. I know you’re both looking out for me, I really do. It’s just— I feel so useless, sitting around and doing nothing while everyone else is out there risking their lives. Does that make sense…?” 

While trailing off, your eyes flit between them, searching for reassurance to soothe the terrible ache in your chest. 

Gojo pats you lightly on the head. “You’re overthinking things. You do plenty — more than enough, actually. You’re like our little cheerleader.” 

You make a face at him. 

“What Satoru means to say is that you help motivate us,” Geto interjects, casting his companion a sharp look. He then adds in a softer voice, “I know there are times when I need that.” 

Geto’s gentle cadence plucks at your heartstrings. It’s strange how, despite being out in the vast wilderness, you feel like you’ve been cornered. The raging tempest that you clung to for vindication has vanished, leaving behind ruins that they sweep away. You can never stay upset with them for long. Right when you believe you’re out of pardons to give, they plead their case, tearing off chunks of your forgiveness and leaving you hollow. 

Gojo claps his hands together. “Anyway! All’s well that ends well, etcetera etcetera, so on and so forth. Back to the important stuff. Where’s my ‘I’m-soooo-sorry-for-worrying-my-handsomest-boyfriend’ kiss?” 

“Again with that?” Geto murmurs. 

You consider the pride of the Gojo clan. He doesn’t do well with quiet, intimate moments. It’s a detail you’ve observed as of late — his restlessness. Ever since he began using Infinity twenty-four-seven, he’s always on high alert, his vigilance never waning. The ability that’d fry your brain if you put out the cursed energy necessary to maintain it for five minutes is his constant state of existence. 

What are you going to do with these two? 

Gingerly, you cup Geto’s face, who stares at you inquisitively. You press your lips to his in a featherlight kiss. Gojo voices his fair share of complaints over who you chose first, whereas Geto cherishes the moment. It’s you who shies away, your cheeks burning. You bury your face in your hands to muffle the squeaks you emit. It isn't your first kiss with them, but you still find it as embarrassing as that disastrous experience. At least Geto knows how to control his greed, unlike a certain someone, who doesn't even bother.

“What about me?” Gojo pouts.

“Your Infinity is on,” is your weak rebuttal. 

“Like I can’t turn it off?” 

“Well—” 

“C’mere already,” he pries your hands away with ease, suddenly inches away from your face. “Lemme see.” 

Gojo whistles slowly. “Wow, you got her all cute and flustered, Suguru. Where’s my phone, I need a picture of this…” 

“She’s never going to kiss you at this rate, Satoru.” 

He bristles at the prospect, his sunglasses falling askew. “Hah? Quit giving her ideas.” 

“Just one kiss,” you manage to get out before they resume bickering. “A-And no tongue!” 

Geto chuckles at Gojo's crestfallen expression. 

To stop him from whining, you stand on your tiptoes, ready to give him a quick peck. Even standing a step above him, he’s ridiculously tall. As promised, he deactivates his Infinity, allowing you unlimited access to his person. You focus on keeping the kiss chaste. He has a habit of exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue if left unchecked, a sensation you’re not used to. It feels weird and you have no idea why he likes it so much. 

When you pull away, he holds you in place, his grin borderline malicious. 

“How ‘bout round two?” 

“I’ll bite you,” you deadpan. 

His eyes gleam behind his sunglasses.

“Oh? Can we make that a promise?” 

Geto pulls you away, leading you down the stairs. His fingers interlock with yours. “If you don’t want to be here the rest of the night, just ignore him.” 

“Whatever happened to sharing is caring?” Gojo calls out from behind. 

When neither of you respond, Gojo’s quick to catch up, his arm slinking around your waist. You’re too busy trying to calm your pounding heart to shake him off. Once again, you’ve been swept up in their riptide. All resisting does is tire you out. You zone out Gojo’s prattling — something about the souvenirs he purchased — fixating on your school-issued shoes. 

What will come of this dynamic once you graduate? It won’t always be like this, right? You’ll train even harder, earn their trust, and prove yourself capable; then surely things will go back to how they used to be. How they’re supposed to be. This can’t be the new normal. They have to know that if they keep leaning on you for strength… 

… At some point, you’re bound to snap. 

[obscure-entity]

your shading is AMAZING specially when its conveying organic forms..... do you have any tips for people who dont know wrf going on (with shading)

ok so HI. hi. my old tutorial pisses me off so i will make a new one

i made a guy whose sole purpose is to be shaded so dont worry he likes it. and his name. his name will be mr. Boob. mr boob does not have to be blue

theres probably way better explanations of how to do it but unfortunately trying to "emulate" shading does ask you to somewhat understand ur character in a 3d way. like what would the 2d shape be if you "sliced" it? mr boob is made of so many circles. his tail also does a kind of weird perspective foreshortening thing because its pointing at you. is this being conveyed

you obviuously dont have to draw a horrendous grid on your characters skin to do this . BUT it helps you put down (or at least envision) the lines of the form shading :

dont worry about cast shadows or the shading color because this is FORM SHADOW time only. think about what surfaces of the character are obviously facing away from the light source and put down the "separation line" of the shading based on that. thr most important thing is that youre trying to separate light from dark

im going to pick the first one for cast shadows bc it will be the most obvious to me

ok so. his ears and snout are blocking other surfaces of his body from the light, which means a shadow is cast!!!! bam. i saw someone describe cast shadows as what the light's pov "can't see." his entire body is putting down a cast shadow on the ground too

im impatient so i blended the form shadows now. its usually the easiest to just NOT blend cast shadows as a way of conveying that they are still cast shadows. but you can still blend them if you want to show "distance" between the obstruction and the surface its blocking. but its just a way of saying form and cast shadows should not be treated the same even if their softness coincides

im going to lump reflection and ambient light together because theyre like. similar. reflections dont just happen in mirrors

since the sky is blue, making the ambient lighting, i tinged mr. boobs existing shadow to be a bit blue. (*this is kind of important because it can help you decide a shading color, which should USUALLY be based on the environment) (unless your character is just in the transparent void then it doesnt matter)

since the ground is pink, i made pink light bounce off of him. pointed and labelled. i dont rlly know how to go more in depth than that

contact shadows are literally shadows formed from direct-touching contact. very little light can reach in there, even from how reflections disperse, which means youre free to use the darkest color available (black). in this case mr. boob is making contact with the floor. because he is sitting on the floor.

i touched him up a bit and wow!!!!!!!!!! look at mr. boob!!! he is so beautifully sculpted.

and one more thing

thats right. i made mr boob PINK. hes fucking ruined now. just kidding i would never say that to him

what im trying to convey here (its the easiest with really light colors) is a transitional color. this can also show subsurface scattering depending on how you use it which is fun to look at. the mistake i made on my last tutorial was "Just pick a warm saturated color!" which is really wrong in examples like Blue mr boob. because it would be weird to use a warm color to transition from blue to blue.

if you have a character that isn't bright enough then obviously the shadows wont be as visible. its BEST to bring more attention to highlights and reflections to reveal the form a bit. they play the biggest role with darker colors

thats all i can think of. fun things to look up:

structuralization + contour lines + foreshortening etc. 3d lingo

form shadows

cast shadows

ambient light

contact shadows

subsurface scattering

im also just speaking out of my ass otherwise. i didnt look up any of these terms until the end now im inferring and hoping i got them right

and remember every time you shade mr boob will be rooting for you

[falseficus]

if i may play the devil's advocate for a moment -- it doesn't really bother me that most of the fan posting around disco elysium on this site is more focused on the emotional aspects of the game than the political ones. i mean, firstly, it's well-acknowledged that fanworks tend to fill the gaps of unexplored potential in the original work -- ie, envisioning darkness in lighthearted works, re-imagining dark works as lighthearted. a lot of the emotional or relational aspects of disco elysium are left ambiguous, abstract, or at the very least dependent upon player choice and interpretation. this renders them fertile ground for speculative art. by contrast, the game's political statements are, if you have the context to analyze them well, complete. there simply isn't much more to say.

beyond that, those political aspects are also leagues ahead of many other pieces of media in terms of their complexity, nuance, and real-world analysis. that's part of what makes the game so great, and i do think may fans understand that. but, to be honest, being capable of engaging with those aspects of the game (just glance at reddit, and you'll see that many fans don't even reach that level) does not mean that fans are capable of generating that level of work themselves. like, it's simply more mental work to come up with a piece of creative art/writing that expands upon the superb worldbuilding and commentary of DE than it is to write about harry and kim getting goopy nasty. people know how to do the latter because it is a commonly exercised muscle of fandom. the former is almost academic.

that doesn't mean people *shouldn't* engage with the political aspects of the game generatively/creatively. but also... like... maybe it's better this way. seriously, look at reddit, guys. the DE subreddit is full of people *attempting* to engage with the game politically, and the analysis they're putting out is hot steaming dookie. i lose brain cells every time im forced to read another take that earnestly assumes the game positions moralism as the Right and Good Choice for Revachol. on tumblr, analysis is generative, practiced through art/fanfiction... and if i had to see the type of shit i see on reddit on tumblr in the form of fanart, id kill us all.

so anyway, i dont think the fanwork hyperfocus on relationships/emotion indicates that people aren't properly understanding the political points of the game, but simply that those points are much harder for fans to process in a generative way. their underrepresentation in fanwork doesnt particularly indicate anything about the way people are actually receiving and understanding the themes of the game.

except for the people inexplicably clogging the tag with jean viquemare. they do not understand the game and will not see the light of heaven

[fanaticsnail]

This is probably asking for much more than you already do and considering the dreaming of you prompt are mainly one shots for characters totally understand if you don’t do this but would you consider writing a pt2 or at least an ending for katakuri’s one. Recently read it, love it, can’t stop, thinking about it

Please🥺

I got you, anon. I wanted to have them see each other, at least. He didn't get to talk with them like the others in his NSFW fic prior, and I wanted him to have a happy ending. You're making me work today!

Elegia

Masterlist Here,

Word Count: 970+

Synopsis: After the events of Elegia with Tot Musica and Uta, you awaken to the looming figure of Katakuri standing above you. You apologise for the events that transpired, asking forgiveness for putting his siblings in danger, and only have respect meet you in your wake.

Themes: Katakuri x afab!reader, sfw, feelings, fluff, mentions of battle, mutual respect, mutual pining. Part 2 for Dreaming of You (NSFW) Here, One-Piece RED fic.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Waking up alone and isolated from your crew was not the way you anticipated your time in Elegia to conclude. A vicious battle between the demonic presence of Tot Musica, under the command of the siren-song of Uta, was not what you envisioned for your getaway. If you knew this is what awaited you, you would have especially taken more consideration in inviting your new friend Brûlée along with you to the island. 

Looking to your side, you noticed her form remained unmoving and unconscious as you stirred from your position lying in the grass. You immediately crawled over to her, your lethargy weighing you down and prompting your movements to be slow and staggered. 

Just before you managed to reach her, you felt a presence behind you and a large hand placed on your shoulder. You slowly winced up, your mind in a haze as you turned your gaze towards the presence. 

Charlotte Katakuri crouched down beside you and looked at his unconscious siblings just beyond you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. In his mind's eye, and in your own, you were all engaged in a vicious battle to take down the entity in perfect unison: you within the dream-land from the sing-sing fruit, and the reality combated by him externally with the Red-Hair pirates. 

You felt him in your eyes, and he felt you in his; both your observation Haki working in perfect synchrony to take down the demon and save the civilians and marines only there to enjoy Uta’s music. He placed a little more pressure on your shoulders, pinching the muscle beneath his wide fingertips. In unison, you spoke immediately in a hurried tone. 

“I’m so sorry, lord Charlotte,” you bowed your head and began to utter your sincere apologies to him, “If I knew this is what was waiting for us when I invited Brûlée here to the concert with me, I never would’ve-,” you started your hurried apology, only stopping when you focussed on his words.

“-I have never experienced fighting alongside such a skilled Haki user before. Observation and armament alike, you are truly a revered warrior,” he complimented you, shifting his grip on your shoulder to caress your cheek with his large hands. “Your grace on the battlefield and protection over my family did not go unnoticed here.” 

Your breath hitched, darting your eyes between his before looking down to the bodies of his unconscious siblings. Shaking your head away from his grip, you slowly sink to your knees and bow your head to him further. 

“I deserve no such praise, my lord,” you admit to him with a soft quiver in your tone and your mind racing with the aftershocks of adrenaline, “This is the second time your sister Brûlée has been injured because of me, and Oven did not fare much better.” Katakuri collected your chin beneath his fingers and angled your face up to gaze into his eyes. 

“They are unscathed,” he searched within your expression and thumbed over the apple of your cheek, “And they are unharmed physically.” He leaned forward and lowered himself down from his crouched position to kneel in front of you. “I am grateful for your friendship with my sister, please do not ever apologize to me for it.” 

A weight lifted off your shoulders as you darted your eyes between his, feeling something within his orbs suppressed below the surface. You dart your eyes down to the fur shroud covering his lips before returning to gaze up into his hazel-colored orbs. 

“Thank you, lord Charlotte,” you hang your head once more, choosing to honor him further with a low bow. He chased your gaze by lowering his head and angling his chin down, the shroud loosening over his lips and revealing a soft, toothy smile. 

“Please call me by my name,” he smiled further, both of you not noticing the two other Charlotte siblings stirring beside you and glancing up at you. You sighed, a small and shy smile rising to your lips, as you looked down to view his sharpened teeth and eel-like jaw. A soft rosy blush of shame and embarrassment grew on his cheeks as he noticed your gaze down on his lips. 

Wincing away, he retracted his hand and attempted to relift his shroud back over his lips, halting when he felt your gentle hand reach forward. You looked between his eyes, slowly adding a soft amount of pressure on his hand and softly urging him to reveal his face to you once more. 

“Would…” you began, searching his now revealed face with more purpose and a soft flush rising to your nose, ears and cheeks, “...Would you like to stay with me a while, Katakuri? Just until your siblings regain consciousness?” Katakuri looked beyond you to where Brûlée and Oven were looking at him, immediately falling to their backs and closing their eyes to feign unconsciousness. 

He smiled a soft, knowing smile and leaned forward, prompting your hand to raise from his hand up to cup his cheek. 

“I would like that very much,” he whispered your name, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes upon impact. 

The connection between you was strong and powerful, short sparks of ignition tingling between the press of his head and the flames of new beginnings rising in your heart. You both raised soft smiles in unison, in view of his ‘sleeping’ siblings, and your crew now catching up with you in your place on the island. 

Katakuri now knew it was not only a possibility to have his dreams potentially become a reality with armament haki, but you may feel affection for him as he did feel for you. Breathing each other's air and holding one another close, you felt at peace and hopeful of what new beginning these sparks meant for the both of you.

[bunny-jpeg]

hiiii bunnnyyyyyy ! i'd like to request for pumpkin pie + vanilla cheesecake + berry trifle, with frozen latte + mint julep + dark roast coffee with max verstappen pleaaaasseeeeee :3

bakery menu!

want to submit an order? hit the menu up! there's tons of stuff to see! i've added new items to the menu to really spice things up! the small staff of bunnies (me) and the servers are here to take your order! don't want to suggest f1, then don't worry! there are tons of other fandoms to choose from! and thank you to this patron for such a lovely order! i see what you're envisioning here with the sub!max trope plus everything else. i hope you love it! enjoy! (also comments, reblogs & tags are greatly appreciated!!)

pumpkin pie ("i've met strays who were more obedient.") + vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + frozen latte (dumbification) + mint julep (punishments) + dark roast coffee (sub!character)

cw: smut/pwp, sub!max, dom!reader, punishments, dirty talk/degrading language, masturbation, teasing, jerking off, sex toys, mean!reader, filth (!!), mention of oral sex

you weren't with max. in all fairness the idea of being a wag felt a bit... wrong. you weren't the ideal woman for the prestige of formula one. a little rough around the edges. but yet in the sea of models in monaco, max was currently knelt down on the floor of your bedroom with his arms bound behind his back.

painfully panting at the feeling of you on your knees in front of him. stroking his cock. the soft noises from his lips as he tried to buck into your touch, but he knew what would happen if he tried to take more than he was given.

"god max. i've met strays who were more obedient." you sighed as you continued to jerk him off. your smaller hand around his painfully erect cock. the tip of it was almost purple from the blood rush.

it was making everything painfully dizzy for him. his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he tried to form words. but there was nothing to be said. this was a punishment.

while in all fairness, you couldn't care less what place max came in. you often had the races on when you made breakfast. you knew very clearly that max was the best. but when he came in fourth in the most recent race, just slipping out of the podium. you weren't shocked that he wanted to see you after. flying back home to monaco to see his mistress.

it wasn't about love. after max's previous relationship went south very fast, he yearned for something different. he didn't need arm candy, he needed a woman that'll dip her fingers into the sick desires in his head. mess him up inside and out.

like you were now. jerking him off alongside a toy, keep orgasm just out of reach. you sighed, "where are your manners, verstappen? did you leave them on the track? you didn't even say please or thank you when i invited you into my home." you shook your head.

max dipped his head down and you grabbed him by the face with your free hand, forcing those blue eyes to look at you. he swallowed and felt like he was going to explode.

he swallowed deeply, "i'm sorry, miss. i'm sorry." his voice was tight. he was so painfully desperate. it made something curl in your stomach. it was hot in a way. having him bound like this.

his strong arms behind his back. you often wondered if maybe you should get a collar from that thick neck of his. the thought was amusing as you continued to pleasure him alongside the toy stuck to his cock via medical tape.

you kissed him lazily on the mouth and said, "see. you do know how to be good. but, you need to be better."

he nodded dumbly, "i will. i will." his tongue was loose when he got this deep. when he was using all of his willpower to keep it together. poor, poor max verstappen. needing to be punished for every little mistake.

if you don't do it, then he'll beat himself down to the bone. your time being a dom had led you to understand. that men desperate enough to let go of the control, often had skeletons in their closet.

and you had only scratched the surface in the six months you've been with max. you held his face in your hand and scratched his scalp with the other. it was almost affectionate.

you said lowly, "i need perfection, verstappen. i will not accept anything less. and you know this. i let it slide when you get onto the podium. i am forgiving. but slipping past third is unacceptable."

he nodded, "yes, miss. thank you for your kindness.'

you kissed him softly on the lips. your red lipstick stained the corner of the man's mouth. he whimpered a little and you smiled.

his voice was light as he said, "please, miss. i'm sorry."

you smiled then got onto the couch, which made max whine. but not too much, or else the punishment would be dragged out. you were naked like him and sat down. you got one leg up onto the couch and exposed your wet pussy to max.

you dragged your fingers across your sex before you sank your fingers in. you rubbed your clit a little as you pleasured yourself. you sighed, "you have so much to learn, max. i bet you don't even know how to make a woman cum. you formula boys are all so greedy. take, take, take and hurt whatever woman you want in the process." you shook your head, keeping your composure as you pleasured yourself.

he whined, "not to you. never to you, miss." his voice felt tight. he was starting to lose it. the pleasure was eating his brain and leaving mush behind.

you seemed almost bored, un-amused by max's desperation. leaving him out to dry as he withered against the toy taped to his swollen cock. you said, "right. because you're a good boy, right? well.. good boys get world championships. you're slipping verstappen. what's going to happen if norris or sainz beat you."

he swallowed and squirmed, "I'll do better next time, miss. please."

you felt a flame in your stomach as you pleasured yourself to max's sweet pleas. the promises of being better. to push himself to the next level. and while the games were fun, you could tell that max was getting too far gone. his self control was slipping.

the last thing you needed was a sub off the deep end. this was kink sex, not fucked up therapy. you pulled your fingers out of your sticky cunt then leaned back into the couch to get comfortable. you then said, "cum."

and a moan choked out max's throat. he hunched over and let out a strangled noise as he came all over himself. ropes of cum hit all the way to his chest. he was a sweaty, overstimulated mess. he thought he was going to collapse over himself from the intensity of it all.

you chuckled a little at the suddenness of it. you leaned forward on the couch, your bare cunt exposed to him. your legs spread open as an invitation for him. you took him by the hair of the hair and looked into his eyes. "and how do we thank me for being able to cum?"

he swallowed. those blue eyes gazed up at you, his breath staggering, "trips? money? anything!" he sounded almost desperate. it was a good look on him.

you yanked his hair a little and said, "wrong. try again."

he said, "giving my mistress the pleasure she deserves." before you pulled him right up against your soaked cunt and he got to work. the groan that left his lips as his face collided with your pussy made you shiver.

you had to give max credit. you was determined when it came to repaying what he felt like he owed you. this was not a romantic partnership. but as max looked up at you, his tongue against your sex. you wondered if like most things max did, he was hiding from a truth.

you pulled him closer to your pussy and let him indulge. which only made his cock twitch in alertness. it would be a long night, and you intended to use every moment of it <3

[lilianade-comics]

Has Danielle tried considering Danny's perspective on Vlad? The guy tries to hit on your married mom the instant you meet him, has attempted multiple times to kill your dad, *clones you* (which, as the clone themself, I can see this being a morally grey dilemma because they wouldn't exist if that didn't happen), etc, etc. Is she truly aware of the type of sleazy scumbag he is and simply doesn't care? Is her perception of him warped that much due to bias?

Not saying she isn't allowed to love Vlad as a parent, of course, especially when she's the first and likely only person he (in your AU) genuinely cares for and treats with any amount of respect.

I was just wondering when the two finally form a mutual understanding that, "Yeah, Vlad sucks as a person. I won't betrayal him, and you can't change my mind, but I at least acknowledge how he's made your life hell." Surely, they do at some point since they're seen causally hanging out and getting along in your other comics without much issue. They don't have to entirely stop being enemies, either, as they're naturally on opposing sides because of her loyalty, but she can still sympathize with him and find the whole situation a bit depressing to say the least.

Anyway, sorry for rambling. Merely wanted to spill my thoughts and curiosities after seeing your Eye-for-an-Eye snippets. Would love to see or hear about the first time they sit and have an actual heart-to-heart conversation about everything that doesn't devolve into an argument or physical fight.

Danielle at this early stage in this AU is more in denial about Vlad's villainous behavior than she is later, and she's mostly ignorant of Danny's personal experiences with him. She thinks the best of Vlad because she's his child, and because Eye for an Eye isn't exactly the most ideal circumstances for her to meet Danny, they're going to be pitted against each other in an antagonistic rivals relationship for a handful of "episodes". From Dani's POV, Danny is the so-much-better-than-her ideal golden boy that her father (used to be) obsessed with, and Danny had her home destroyed, so Dani is not currently keen to hear Danny's justified objections to her father's lengthy rap sheet.

Urban Jungle is going to be the much needed Danny & Dani relationship development episode, because it's the perfect backdrop for them to come to an understanding since they'll be the only two people who escaped Undergrowth's control. Two incredibly similar rivals, one town to save, and a ton of interpersonal issues to work through. They'll end that story on much better terms than they did in Eye for an Eye, and Dani will begin to morph into Danny's chill cousin instead of his bitter rival.

(In the meta sense, Dani's stubborn defense of Vlad is meant to mirror Danny's stubborn defense of Jack. I'm not saying either one is right or wrong for this or that Jack and Vlad are a 100% fair comparison, but I am saying the kids are kindred spirits and both feel they are in the right. That being said, Dani becomes a relatively neutrally aligned character rather than a traditional antagonist, and she's just as likely to side with Danny later on as she is with Vlad.)

Thanks for the ask! Rambling is great, and it's helpful to me to have to try to articulate what I'm doing with this AU. (I originally envisioned this monster as half semi-serious canon rewrite, and half obnoxiously self-indulgent fanon fluff. And since it's based on season 3, there are so many pacing and narrative direction issues to try to account for that I. Simply haven't done that. So it's kind of all over the place & I couldn't tell you how the AU ends because I don't know :P)

[windvexer]

But considering then that maybe one should learn a form of banishing, just in case, but doesn't relate to the golden down practices, what could be a practice of banishing that is more connected to witchcraft ?

We are in reference to this ask about whether or not the LBRP is required learning for all sorcerers & practitioners (it is not).

Someone asked me for my opinions and I'm giving them! Please understand this to be a post full of my personal opinions and methods.

I think a fine way to regard any practical sorcery is to consider it to be a mundane action extended into the spirit world.

Therefore the best way for a witch to deal with banishment is to ask what you if you were in a nice Studio Ghibli anime where magic is tangible. If a rambunctious pig spirit were tearing through your house, knocking over furniture, what would you do?

Banish for your needs based on what you have. Any banishment spell is better than no banishment spell. Here are a few for the intrepid witch:

Ask It To Leave

This is a good starting operation, especially if you have ethical concerns. Especially helpful for troublesome household spirits and energies.

Go to where It is. If that is not possible, create a sympathetic image (drawing, sigil, poppet, etc.; then correctly consecrated*).

Speak to the image and tell it firmly and sternly to leave. Do not ask, do not show your belly. "You have got to stop coming to morning meetings, Greg. You have better things to do and you are not helping. I am sick and tired of hearing you before lunch, Greg. Stop doing it."

Open the Door and Smack It With a Broom

Another good starting operation, but you must have access to the location; best reserved for spirits or intruders.

Open all the doors and windows you can. Speak a prayer over the broom, vacuum, or mop; invite it to cast off its lampshade and glow with the vigor of four hundred generations of exasperated grandmothers.

Sweep out the house, all the while staying intent on the idea that the intruder is going to be chased out.

Close doors and windows after, as desired.

(Modifications on the above: blessed water in a spray bottle, rolled up newspaper swatting the air, and so forth; the studious witch will observe that if a place is consecrated to be other than what it is, things on other strands of fate can be swept away.)

Cast Dispel Magic (wizard 3 abjuration)

A fine early step, but it draws a line in the sand. It's more like a temporary ward, but it'll do in a pinch. It's also energy intensive, but requires no materials.

Using energy work, root yourself down into the earth. Call up a great deal of power from the earth into your body.

Coalesce a ball of power in your abdomen (or wherever suits you best; you must already know how to work energy in this matter to use this method).

In your preferred method, program the energy to be immensely banishing; envisioning ultraviolet flame can work well.

Expand the ball of energy outwards from your center so that it grows and eclipses the space around you, sending the unwanted thing out and away.

If possible, then work the far boundary of the energy sphere to become like a wall that can't be crossed over again.

Call the Magistrate

Not so harsh, but certainly drawing a line in the sand. This can be performed not only on spirits or intruders, but also on situations (to banish unfair treatment, etc), on people, and so forth.

Take one or three dried Bay Laurel leaves, or the equivalent crumbled. Say, think, or sign, "Bay Laurel, I call you here today to assist with removing an unwanted force."

Read over them the Orphic Hymn to the Sun, all the while envisioning that the leaves begin to glow with an immensely bright light, as if you're staring at the sun.

At the completion of the hymn, politely address the leaves and explain to them exactly what you would like chased away. Ensure you clarify if this thing may come back later, or never at all, and how far away from you it should go.

When you've said you part, seal the spell (classically, "as my will, so mote it be").

Use charcoal disks or your preferred method to burn the leaves. This should be done as close as possible to the thing intended to be banished. If burning is not an option, put them in some tap water and boil it on the stove until the scent diffuses.

(To further energize: read the hymn between three and nine times, each time following up with fervent prayers)

Call the Mob

Harsh. For use when you do not want to be polite. Can be directed at anything, but be sure there is no concern of behavior escalating; this is an aggravating spell.

Take one or three dried red peppers, or a teaspoon of red pepper flakes. Say, think, or sign, "Red Peppers, I call you here today to assist with removing an unwanted force."

Read over them the Orphic Hymn to Mars, all the while envisioning that the peppers ignite into a black and scarlet flame that's like hellfire.

At the completion of the hymn, rambunctiously address the peppers and explain to them exactly what you'd like chased away. Encourage the peppers to chase after the thing like the baying hounds of hell, to chase it to the ends of the earth, and past the earth, and so far away that the thing cannot be returned.

When you've said you part, seal the spell (classically, "as my will, so mote it be").

You should not burn the peppers at all unless you can do so outside, because breathing in pepper smoke is Bad. But fire greatly improves this operation. If possible, arrange the peppers around a candle and burn the candle to activate the spell. Otherwise, use the simmer pot method.

---

*Consecrated: In this context, to assign a new magical identity, purpose, and fate. This may be done organically during its creation, or all at once with a ritual. A poppet shouldn't be used in sympathetic magic until it has been magically given the true identity of the thing you want it to represent.

[sunsets12]

If I may ask, in your head what’s the height difference between Percy and Finnick in the story. The reason I ask is because there’s no definitive answer from what I’m seeing some people are claiming/ head cannoning that Finnick is 6’3 or even 6’5. Or what even is Percy’s height that you envisioned?

The true reason of heart that I am curious of this information is so I can properly envision the hand holding. You don’t understand how many time reread those two sections and let out various noises . I’m totally dealing this so normally, very maturely if I might add.

For the 72th hunger games, I can already tell that their dependency with each other is going drastically increase. The codependency is going to go wild ~

Percy, my dude Cupid’s arrow true aimed your ass. I can’t wait to see the moment that Finnick has feeling for Percy. Trust that I will go feral when that happens :)

Thanks for chapter 24 update :)

Fun little fact, you made my day since it was my birthday when you updated even though you were unhappy with this chapter please take pride in that you managed to make this the derange reader happy ~~~

Lol this is one of those asks that you probably didn't expect me to have a lot of thoughts on, but I have a lot of thoughts on it.

Okay so, when I think about PJO character's heights, I like to think that all the demigods are like... stupidly tall. They're descended from gods who are 20 feet or something in their actual form, so it makes sense to me that their kids would all be tall. Now, this isn't canon because I'm pretty sure multiple demigod characters are described as short in the books, but I like to headcanon it anyway because it's a nice extra (and subtle) touch to show they aren't fully human. So, in my little non-canon fanfic, there aren't really any demigods shorter than like 5'8, and even that is *short* for them. Most demigods average like 5'11 to 6'0 for women and 6'2 to 6'3 for men. With that being said I don't remember Percy ever being described as particularly tall in the books? (I might be wrong on that though.) So, in my mind he's about 6'2. Maybe 6'3, which is normal for a healthy demigod his age :)

On the other hand, Hunger Games characters from the districts are, on the whole, food insecure. Katniss even talks about how her growth was stunted because of malnourishment. However, she contrasts this with the career kids who are bigger and stronger because they are better fed. Additionally, I can imagine that for a male tribute, like Finnick who presumably relied a lot on his strength to win, he must be pretty tall + strong. Plus, I think Katniss actually calls him tall in the books. (Once again, I don't have the books on me, so this is just my memory and I might be wrong). Anyway, I picture him as being around 6'1.

I definitely think Percy is the taller one, but not by a lot. And the only character I can picture being 6'5 is, like, Frank lol. (Okay, side note, I looked it up and apparently Frank is 6'5-6'6 according to the percy jackson wiki)

And happy late birthday!

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

I need to talk about this argument that never seems to stop circulating.

Note: Not a venomous/anti post. There’s more than enough of that across fandom spaces as is, and this is supposed to be a place for ✨sweet, blissful escapism✨

When making this argument, people seem to envision a scenario in which Nine never met Rose.

While I can appreciate a good hypothetical, recognizing Rose's significance to the Doctor (Nine and Ten) is essential to understanding why things with Martha played out the way they did in the first place.

In the third series, the Doctor is grieving. This grief is deliberately threaded into nearly every script, whether spoken aloud or not (and these are just a few examples):

He's burning in Rose’s wake the entire time Martha travels with him, which is why it’s so frequently called upon: It’s 100% deliberate in framing his grief. He grieved as Nine too, of course— having been fresh on the heels of the Time War — but then he met Rose, which changed everything.

Back then, he was still a rude, traumatized pain in the ass, but we watch Rose soften more of those jagged edges with every episode as they grow closer; as he lets his guard down and forms a deep connection with her.

He falls in love (against his better judgment) and it's game over.

And yes: provided S1E1 had been titled 'Martha', one can realistically assume things might have unfolded similarly to how they did with Rose. However, it wouldn’t have been that way just because the Doctor was Nine and “Nine was different” — it would be because he wasn’t already in love with someone else. The same can't be said for the start of S3.

Think of it like this: if Rose AND Martha had been in that cellar — if Nine had taken both of them along with him in S1 — we’d eventually be looking at the most melodramatic love triangle ever, what with him living in close quarters with two brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate young women... But Doctor Who is plenty “soap opera” as is with just one woman in the TARDIS.

(I certainly wouldn’t object to reading that fic, though)

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

His inability to be romantic with Martha isn’t because he thinks her lesser, nor is it for lack of compatibility. It isn't because Rose is any better than her. It certainly isn’t just because he’s Ten.

It’s really only for one reason, which can't be denied — and now I’m a broken record:

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

Nine is Ten, and Ten is only such a mess in S3 because he’s just lost the love of his life. Martha merely got caught in the crosshairs of a volatile Time Lord in mourning, and yes — it sucks. Absolutely.

But it also feels dismissive to chalk Ten and Martha’s relationship up to little more than some sort of mindless dance of pining, jealousy, and toxicity.

Ten trusted Martha with his life over and over again — and hers, with him. He constantly praised her brilliance, happily carting her around time and space with no intention of letting her go. In the BBC’s extended universe of novels/comics/cartoons/etc, there’s so much depth to their relationship: love and trust and trauma and sacrifice. They had their own special bond as mates, their own complexities — so it’s a bummer that it's forever overshadowed by the other things.

I’m not denying that there was a lot of stuff that sucked/was for sure toxic about Ten's S3 behavior, but so many of the things I've seen him catching flak for can be directly attributed to being A Clueless Fucking Alien Idiot (not a trait that’s unique to Ten) — as well as his flat-out obliviousness to Martha’s feelings.

So yes, I agree: if Rose never existed, he would have treated Martha differently as Nine. He also would have treated her differently as Ten. Certainly.

But Rose did exist, and when discussing canon, it matters.

“He tells me that he absolutely, 100% loves Rose... He tells me how my daughter; my wonderful, beautiful, clever little girl saved him from himself before… And he says that’s all because of me! I made her into the Rose Tyler that saved him.”

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

Martha got the short end of the stick in S3. She came round at the wrong place and time, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. It doesn't mean the Doctor didn’t adore her. It certainly doesn't mean the time they spent together was wasted or worthless. They were brilliant!

Sure, he could be a twat, but let it be known that he was a twat with Rose as well, both as Nine and Ten. I’m sure Tentoo can be plenty infuriating, too. So while I'll defend Ten (and Tentoo) into the ground forever and ever and ever, I'll concede that he's fucked up.

The Doctor is a certified Pain In The Ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about this character — dynamics.

But never forget that Martha was goddamn tough as nails and overcame every bit of it. She moved on with her life, and the Doctor moved on with his. One can only pray that, when they inevitably drag her back onto the show (which feels inevitable if I'm honest), we see at once that she's been living her best life for all these years.

[mercillery]

ADMIRALS AS TEACHERS

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD + MODERN AU???

CHARACTERS: Akainu + Kizaru + Aokiji

NOTES: This was has been sitting in my drafts for a while... Also, to whoever sent in requests yes I am working on them just give me time please <3

AKAINU

Honestly, Akainu would likely teach a subject that requires an unwavering commitment to discipline, structure, and a strong sense of justice. Subjects such as ethics, law, or history seem to be right up his alley. Specifically, I envision him as an Advanced Placement (AP) History teacher. His approach to teaching would be strict and authoritarian, instilling both respect and a sense of fear among his students. 99% of the students in his class are driven by fear of him rather than actual motivation to learn. That being said, the atmosphere in his classroom would be one of constant pressure and high expectations, which almost every student finds overwhelming and intimidating. 

Akainu would demand nothing short of absolute perfection. He would have zero tolerance for disobedience or laziness, expecting his students to show the same dedication and rigor that he himself embodies. Any form of attitude or defiance would be met with immediate consequences—Akainu would not hesitate to expel a disruptive student from his classroom without a second thought. Is spending time outside the classroom better than being stuck in his class? Probably. But your chances of failing his class have probably just increased by a lot, and he will absolutely catch on if you’re just being disobedient to skip his class. So don’t abuse this.

His primary focus would be on the material being taught rather than on his students' personal feelings or stress levels. To him, the importance of the subject matter would always trump any student's grievances or frustrations. He would expect his students to maintain a laser-sharp focus, regardless of how they feel about school on any given day—meaning that you’ve got to bring your A game to his class every day. It’s that or nothing. Even if you’re grieving or stressed like crazy, he expects you to give it your all, no matter what. Sorry! 

Akainu motivates his students through a combination of fear and respect rather than through encouragement or praise. He firmly believes that the fear of failure and its consequences is a powerful motivator, driving students to excel in their studies and adhere to his exacting standards. For students who are particularly afraid of failing or falling short of his expectations, Akainu's methods can be both terrifying and effective. The fear of disappointing him or not meeting his high standards often has students working themselves to the brink, sweating blood, and shedding tears to avoid his wrath. Despite the intense pressure, those who manage to channel their fear into diligence and hard work will find that they can succeed in his class! And yes, he does notice when his students are actually trying and putting in effort; he just isn’t the type to announce it to the whole school building out loud.

His classroom is orderly, with students seated in neat, precise rows. He enforces assigned seating, meticulously choosing who sits where. And this isn’t a random arrangement; Akainu deliberately separates friends, ensuring they sit far apart, while placing those who aren't close right next to each other. This strategic seating plan is just another layer of his strict control over the classroom environment, much to the students' frustration. Moreover, the walls of his class are adorned with military posters and detailed maps of various historical battles. This carefully curated setting, combined with his demanding teaching style, ensures that students understand the weight of their education under his watchful eyes… 👁️ 👁️

To conclude, Akainu’s teaching methods are definitely controversial, as most view his strictness as too harsh or oppressive. However, he believes that it is necessary to prepare his students for the harsh realities of the world they will eventually enter. He has good intentions, believe me. He’s just too strict and intense.

AOKIJI

After mulling it over for a while, I still can't pinpoint the exact subject he would teach. Environmental science, literature, or geography all come to mind, but I can't decide :( Regardless of the subject, though, one thing is certain: he’s a student favorite for a multitude of reasons. Despite his frequent tardiness—honestly, he’s late to his own class more often than not. Students and faculty alike wonder how he manages to keep his teaching position. But the truth is, no one really cares because Aokiji is simply adored by everyone—specifically the students. His laid-back attitude and approachable demeanor make him the most beloved and popular teacher in the entire school. It's almost as if his popularity grants him immunity from the usual rules and expectations. He’s the kind of teacher who leaves a lasting impression—the one students talk about long after they've graduated.

As I mentioned just now, Aokiji has a habit of arriving late to his own class, but his students don’t mind because that just means they get more time to chill. His tardiness has become a running joke among the students too. In fact, it’s almost a tradition at this point. Despite his late arrivals, Aokiji makes up for it by staying late to help students who need extra assistance. If you're wondering about his usual delay, it's typically just a few minutes. However, on Mondays, Thursdays, or any of those universally dreaded days, he can be 20–30 minutes late at best.

Unlike Akainu, Aokiji very much cares about his students' well-being, even if it’s not immediately apparent. Despite his tired and nonchalant appearance during class, he absolutely cares—trust me on this. If you’re struggling to focus on school because of other issues weighing on your mind, you can turn to Aokiji. He’s always ready to listen, and he’ll never dismiss your concerns. Whether you need to talk things through or just need some space, he’s there to support you. He might suggest signing you up for a guidance counselor or offering some time alone to collect your thoughts. Whatever you need to feel more comfortable and less stressed, Aokiji will do his best to accommodate. His students know they can rely on him, not just as a teacher but as a genuine source of support and understanding.

His class is... messy? Chaotic? Unorganized? Probably all three. Desks are scattered haphazardly around the room, with some areas having far more desks than others. Aokiji doesn’t care where his students sit as long as they aren’t too disruptive. He’s the kind of teacher who gives his students the freedom to arrange themselves. Some students take advantage of this by placing their desks close to his, eager to chat and interact with him since they absolutely enjoy talking with him. If Akainu ever walked into Aokiji’s class, he’d probably have a stroke. The disarray and lack of strict order would be too much for him to handle. But for Aokiji and his students, this chaotic setup works perfectly.

Aokiji is also known for his patience with his students. When one or a group of students become too disruptive, he lets it slide a few times, but with each incident, he becomes a bit more firm—not mean, just firm. He understands that students need a bit of leeway, and his relaxed approach reflects that. Despite his leniency, he rarely has to make students change their seats for being disruptive. His students usually get the message after a few warnings and straighten up, likely because they genuinely like and respect him as a teacher. However, if a student is being outright disrespectful or causing problems for him or another student, that's when Aokiji's demeanor changes. He becomes noticeably firm and directly addresses the issue. He’ll tell the student that they need to either chill out or take a walk around the school for a few minutes to cool off. When something like this happens, the entire class becomes captivated. It's almost as if every student suddenly has a bowl of popcorn, eagerly watching the situation unfold. They relish not only the chaos of the situation but also the rare moment of seeing Aokiji get serious, given his usual laid-back attitude.

In conclusion, Aokiji is one of the coolest teachers in the building. That’s about it. Everyone loves him and wishes to have him as their teacher for every class.

KIZARU

I'm definitely getting physics teacher vibes here... Yeah, Kizaru would be the perfect fit for teaching physics. Physics can be really complicated and confusing, but with his laid-back attitude, you'll feel much more at ease. His relaxed approach helps take the edge off, so you won’t find yourself too stressed out or panicking when grappling with the subject matter. And there’s an added bonus: Kizaru speaks incredibly slowly (like in the anime lol), which gives you plenty of time to process everything he’s saying. This means you can really take in the information and understand it better, rather than feeling overwhelmed by a barrage of fast-paced explanations. So, even if physics isn’t your strong suit, Kizaru’s teaching style makes it a lot more approachable for you.

Now, unlike other teachers, Kizaru actually goes out of his way to make his class entertaining and engaging. He understands that while some students can push through the boredom and focus solely on the material, others struggle with staying attentive. He completely gets it—he’d be bored too if his own class was dull. With this in mind, Kizaru uses everyday objects and interactive demonstrations to bring physics concepts to life. Whether he's using a simple toy car to explain inertia or demonstrating wave interference with water in a tub, he makes sure that the principles of physics are not only accessible but also enjoyable to learn. Additionally, Kizaru infuses his lessons with humor and a touch of sarcasm, making jokes that keep the class lively. His witty remarks and playful banter can quickly recapture the attention of his students if their minds start to wander. And just like that, in no time, he wins over his students, making physics a subject they look forward to rather than dread.

Kizaru is incredibly patient with his students. He never rushes them and always takes the time to ensure that everyone understands the material before moving on. If a student is struggling, he's always ready to offer one-on-one help. His supportive approach fosters a casual atmosphere where students feel comfortable asking questions and participating in discussions! For those who are too nervous to ask questions in front of the class, Kizaru has a special approach. He makes it a point to quietly check in with these students individually, asking if they have any questions or need further clarification. He understands that some students are just too shy or prefer not to speak up in a group setting, so he keeps a close eye on those who tend to be more reserved. This attentiveness ensures that everyone, even the quietest students, has their needs met. Kizaru’s ability to create a welcoming and supportive environment means that no one gets left behind!

Inside Kizaru's classroom, it's a hub of physics experiments and fascinating gadgets. From gyroscopes spinning on desks to pendulums swinging gracefully and intricate Rube Goldberg machines humming with activity, the room is alive with hands-on learning opportunities. The seating arrangement in Kizaru's class is designed to promote collaboration and lively discussions. Desks are often grouped in clusters, encouraging students to work together on projects and problem-solving exercises. What's more, Kizaru allows his students the freedom to choose their seating partners! However, he maintains a balance by gently addressing any disruptions that may arise. While students are generally free to sit where they please, he sets clear expectations for behavior. If there's occasional distraction, Kizaru might let it slide a couple of times, but he ensures that the focus remains on productive learning.

I feel like outside of just normal class, Kizaru leads or supports a physics club, where students can delve deeper into their interests, participate in science fairs, and engage in fun physics-related activities like building rockets or participating in robotics competitions.

Kizaru takes an understanding stance if he notices a student having difficulties because of personal problems like stress or other issues. He acknowledges the need for space and time to attend to personal problems and acknowledges that everyone encounters challenges occasionally. As a lenient and understanding teacher, Kizaru absolutely prioritizes the well-being of his students. If someone requires additional time to cope with personal challenges or simply needs a break to recharge, he's supportive and accommodating. Whether it's offering extensions on assignments, providing extra guidance, or simply lending a listening ear.

In summary, Kizaru's physics class is a dynamic blend of humor, creativity, and hands-on learning, transforming physics into an exciting and accessible subject for all his student!

[tsukikonikushimi]

Page 48 - Exploring the Depths

MASTERLIST

Chapter 4 - EXPLORING THE DEPTHS

ZAUN HAS A WAY OF HIJACKING THE STURDIEST NARRATIVES AND drawing focus to itself. The undercity has a messy glory all of its own. This is a place that welcomes outcasts, a refuge for those who don't have a home. Sure, there are dangers, but there is also community, creativity, and the thrilling sense that anything is possible.

Pushing the boundaries of conventions is part of Zaun's DNA, which makes the city and its denizens almost avant-garde in their tastes, behavior, and outlook. Whereas Piltover follows codes and hierarchies, Zaun explodes them. This does not make one city better than the other — they complement each other.

The similarly Manichean notion that the cities have drastically different levels of wealth and legality does not reflect the complicated reality. "The city from below is rich with diversity, and some people do have money," Julien Georgel said. "And Zaun is not completely lawless, though there are issues with the mob, drugs, etc." This complexity is represented in the physical layout as well: Zaun reaches deep, then deeper. "There are different layers in Zaun, including the old abandoned mines where Vi and Jinx come from,” Georgel pointed out.

As usual with Arcane, people and things are more complicated than they might appear, and keeping track of all the complexities—and, yes, layers-entailed sharing specifications and fundamental principles so that everybody could work in unison. You can see this thought process in a set of guidelines distributed to the various creative teams that banded together to create and maintain a coherent world. For Zaun for instance, "everything is designed to withstand extreme pressure and potential explosions"—meaning that that city's very design suggests a place where danger is ever-present. For Piltover, on the other hand, the guidelines remind the writers and artists that "designs may look spindly, delicate, and opulent" and that “form and materials are aspirational, designed to reveal wealth. Early prototypes might end up in a museum or in a clan's private collections."

The same lines of thinking suggest recycling as key to envisioning Zaun, both literally and figuratively. When designing the underground city and the characters who live there, the guidelines suggest that Zaun is all about "making magic out of nothing. Nothing is precious, everything can be reworked and made better. Who made something first matters less than who made the better invention." If Zaun had a motto, it might well be "Necessity is the mother of invention."

THIS SPREAD Vi surveys how the Lanes have changed since she was in prison

Not much to comment or show in this aside from Vi and Zaun's architecture

Some windows of the lower levels

How Zaun's architecture combats the darkness is truly amazing to me, all those lights and colorful windows, at least they too have some neon stars to luck up to.

Now...Jinx's Doodles

a little moster eating the 4

She wrote "Undercity" and despite my best efforts I don't understand if whats underneath is simply some swirly doodle or something else.

She drew some little bunnies hangion in one of the pipes,

She added 3 fishes, with

"Eye Fishhead"

"Stinky"

"cool"

"duaa" (i think)

and some little smoke (?) at the bottom

She drew a crossed heart on Vi's back

Some skulls at the bottom of the page

And to end it my favorite due to the implications: she drew what resembles smoke coming from the bottom all the way up, with the words "BREATH" and "WE NEED TO BREATHE" like screams (tho she always uses this handwriting in the artbook).

This is all! Have a good day.

EDIT (request for some close ups) - 24/05/2025

[starg0ld]

Fragmenta Vitae (Prologue)

art creds: drosaxx on twt

❝ After albedo inevitably loses control, he pays the highest price by killing the person dearest to him. ❞

Albedo x Lumine (new note: originally meant to be an Albedo x reader, I've decided to turn this fic into an Albedo x Lumine. sorry for the short notice but as I was working on the next chapters I thought it fitted better this way. honestly I believe that a Lumine centered narrative can also be somehow neutral for self immersion. I'm trying to apply changes but tumblr doesn't work as I'd wish, tough I do not want to post it again. so, I'm sorry if the writing feels strange somewhere. if you want to check the other, better, versions, look at my AO3 and Fanfiction.Net account (also @/starg0ld).!! ))

Cw: death, murder, blood, slight gore, angst

words count: 2438

n/a: I had a lot of fun writing this first chapter!!! Which, more than a first chapter, is actually a sort of introduction to the story. The plot is based on the lore of one of my Genshin OCs, but I adapted it to make it more accessible for everyone. It's inspired by an old roleplay and one of my favorite movies, Poor Things (which I warmly recommend). Also, to me, Albedo's corruption happens just like in this fancomic. I highly encourage you all to read it because it explains exactly what happens to corrupted Albedo in my fic, and most especially because it's just so good and well-written to not be read.

"The universe, the sable essence of the starry void."

"Earth, the accumulative memory of time and being."

Many times throughout his long life, Albedo had imagined the moment when the precarious control he held over himself would shatter. He wondered what it would feel like, whether anyone would be able to stop him before he brought ruin upon everything, even Mondstadt, the city he had come to grow fond of. Each time he tried to envision that terrible eventuality, the scenario would shift, always different, yet eerily similar. There were unknowns, variables beyond even his rapid and analytical mind. No matter how far his thoughts could reach, there were things that even a brilliant alchemist like him could not predict.

"Soil, the origin of alchemy, the basis of all life."

Rhinedottir, his creator, also known as the infamous alchemist Gold, had always been forthright about his nature. She had never sought to conceal the potential faults in his very being, the price of crafting the perfect human, a prototype of divinity itself, a being who, in theory, could make the heavens tremble with his arcane essence. Yet Albedo had always dismissed such concerns, considering them distant and improbable, a possibility that almost didn't even concern him. That was until he had tasted the forbidden thrill of Khemia.

"The universe is the dark essence of the true starry sky, and the earth is the accumulated memories of time and lives. The chalk: that is you. The earth is where alchemy gets its name, and is the basis of all life. And this..." She demonstrated her technique before him as a huge life form burst from its culture tank in a shower of shattered fragments.

"...This is new birth."

Only then Albedo realized how fragile his understanding of the world truly was. There were far fewer certainties than he had once believed, but one truth remained absolute: meddling with the natural order always came at a cost.

"...Chalk, the substance from which primal life is molded."

The scene of him losing control had played out exactly as he had expected in his most tormented nights. It had happened countless times before, in the depths of his mind, each instance no less harrowing than the last. And yet, this time, something was different. This time, the nightmare had taken a turn he never dared to foreseen.

After meeting his dearest friend, Lumine, Albedo began to hope. Perhaps this mysterious girl from another world could be the key, a catalyst capable of neutralizing his transgression before catastrophe struck. Not that he didn’t trust his fellow knights and colleagues, but sadly, not even all the strength of their best warriors could have been enough. Albedo had no desire for his friends in Mondstadt to see him descend into something unrecognizable, least of all Klee, the child he had come to see as a sister. When he had met her, she gave him something even more precious than certainty, beside stealing his heart. With her, Albedo found a rare stability, a feeling he had never known before. Her smile and laughter lightened the weight of his turmoil, leading him to gravitate towards her. She was enigmatic, mysterious, a weaver of arcane arts, yet her charisma and charm had captured his mind. Albedo learned so much from her, from her creativity to the knowledge that sometimes seemed to test the limits of his own. Slowly, his world had softened, and for the first time, he dared to believe that perhaps, things did not have to end in disaster. As far as possible for a being like him, he could even live a normal life.

But fate had never been this kind.

For all the terrible outcomes the alchemist had envisioned, he never imagined this. Never had he thought that, out of all the people in Teyvat, it would be Lumine standing before him, facing him, fighting for him and against him, willing to sacrifice everything to save Mondstadt or him.

His memories were already fractured, blurred at the edges, but he could still recall the moment with painful clarity: the cold bite of a blade piercing his flesh, the sharp jolt of pain that, to him, had almost felt like a relief. Yet, a part of him that was not fully sentient kept finding new ways to attack her, to inflict the same amount of pain, if not worse, death. Both had begun to bleed, crimson on the carpet of white snow that covered the icy ground of Dragonspine.

And yet, her tears, warm and relentless, had rained down upon her cheeks, reddened by frost and fatigue. Through the haze of his faltering consciousness, he could heard her voice, distant yet desperate. Words he couldn’t fully grasp, but their meaning was unmistakable. Trying to bring the man she fell in love with back.

She had begged him to stay.

Begged him not to leave.

Begged him to think of Klee, of the little girl who would never understand why her brother was suddenly gone.

And the blood continued to flow copiously, carrying itself with the aftermath of the battle, the two exhausted and far too wounded.

"No matter how far apart we are, my soul and yours will always be intertwined." she said once, looking at the same sky that she dedicated to him every time.

Albedo hadn’t fully grasped the extent of the injury he had inflicted on Lumine. They had been locked in battle for quite a while, and the young witch’s energy was gradually fading. Blood surrounded them; she had lost a significant amount, and soon her blurry vision began to getting concerning. Despite her condition, she had still managed to stab Albedo in the chest.

Now, they were both laying together in the vast, icy wasteland that enveloped them. Their breaths were heavy and faint, both exhausted. However, Albedo eventually sensed that he was starting to come back to his former self, even though he felt weak and the pain was so intense it felt almost hollow. He could barely hear whispers, his beloved’s fingers tightening around his tense body. He began to feel a strange sensation crossing through his fibers like a stream, as if a hand was lifting him from the weight of his own flesh. A realization struck him as if another blade had been thrust into his heart. A bluish halo surrounded his wounds, suddenly lighter than the rest of the snow. He couldn’t believe that she was gathering her last strengths to perform that extreme gesture, a miracle and the greatest of sorceries at the same time.

A life for another life.

An extreme act of love and desperation. Lumine had performed a miracle, bittersweet, imperfect, a desperate attempt to undo what should have never been. For a moment, it had felt unreal, like slipping into one of his many dreams, visions where he had rehearsed, time and time again, the ways in which he might face his worst fears.

Albedo had never imagined, never dared to even consider, that he would awaken from his state of pain and confusion only to find her lifeless in his arms. The shift had been instantaneous, a cruel reversal of fate he could not comprehend. His hands, once steady, now trembled as they held her cold, unmoving form. Disbelief took root in his mind, slow and insidious, creeping through the cracks of his shattered reality.

His breath hitched the moment he saw her. His heart clenched, his stomach twisted, and the world around him blurred.

He dropped to his knees beside her, trembling hands reaching out as if afraid to touch, afraid to confirm what he already knew. But the moment his fingers brushed against her bloodied skin, the dam inside him shattered.

A choked breath left his lips. Carefully, so, so carefully he pulled her lifeless body into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She was limp in his grasp, her head lolling slightly as he adjusted her, pressing her close as if he could somehow shelter her from the cold that had already begun to seep into her skin.

She was gone.

His hand trembled as he brushed her hair back, fingers ghosting over her face in a motion that had once been second nature. Now, it felt hollow. His grip tightened as a sharp gasp escaped him as grief struck like a blade to the chest, raw and unbearable. His breathing turned ragged, erratic, as the reality of what had happened sunk into his bones, coiling around his heart like a vice.

It was his fault.

His arms locked around her, his entire frame shaking as he buried his face into her hair, squeezing his eyes shut as if blocking out the world would make this moment unreal. The tears burned at the edges of his vision, threatening to spill over. He couldn't hold them back.

His voice was shaking, broken and raw. “No… no, no, no…” His tone shook, barely more than a whisper at first, before rising into something raw and desperate. His body trembled violently, his grip tightening around Lumine as if holding on a little harder could somehow tether her to life. He pulled her closer, his hold almost crushing, terrified that if he loosened his embrace even slightly, she would slip away forever. Until a few hours before, her body was full of life, and now she lay cold on the blanket of snow. What a cruel joke, fate! And was he the one who had killed her…? No, Albedo couldn’t even think so. He didn’t want to believe it.

Memories assaulted his mind in rapid succession-fragments of laughter, of quiet moments, of the warmth in her gaze when she looked at him. He had taken all of it for granted. He had been so careless. He should have seen it coming. He should have known.

But he hadn't.

He had been too blind, too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the signs, to save her before it was too late.

His grip trembled, his fingers digging into her bloodstained clothing. His entire body ached, every nerve screaming in protest, but he couldn't let go. He refused to.

She was still warm.

“Why did you do this? Why?” His breath shuddered, his words cracked and broken by the sobs building in his throat. “This wasn’t the plan. This can’t be how it ends. I—I can’t lose you. I can’t…” His usual composure, the mask of control he always wore so effortlessly, shattered in the moment he had her in his arms. The weight of Lumine’s limp body pressed against him, and with it came the crushing realization of what she had done. The responsibility. The guilt. The overwhelming disbelief. It all crashed into him at once, a tidal wave of emotion that left him trembling.

The snow around them had been pristine once, an untouched white expanse stretching across Dragonspine's frozen landscape. Now, it was stained with crimson. Albedo forced himself to look down. The blood pooled beneath them, thick and dark, seeping into the snow like ink on parchment. The sight made his stomach twist violently.

His fault.

His fault.

His fault.

His breath came in harsh, uneven gasps. He felt like he was breaking apart, piece by piece, with no way to put himself back together. And then his gaze drifted back to Lumine’s face. Her expression was soft, but twisted, frozen in time. Pain. She had died in agony. Her mouth was slightly parted, as if she had been trying to say something. Her wide eyes-once so full of life-stared up at him, unseeing, unblinking. A gaping wound marred her stomach, her white clothes drenched in red. Blood had trickled from her lips, from the corners of her eyes, now crystallized into fragile, frozen tracks.

She had suffered. Because of him.

His breath hitched again, and before he could stop himself, a sob tore free from his throat. His hands trembled as they cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away tears that no longer fell.

It was unbearable.

She had saved him. One final act of defiance against fate, one last miracle-her life for his.

And what had he done to deserve it?

Albedo let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against hers, his tears mingling with the blood and snow beneath them. She was growing colder. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever. He knew, eventually, he would have to let go

But not yet.

Not yet.

His mind raced, frantically clawing for a way out, some other miracle that could undo what had just happened. But there was nothing. No solution, no second chance. The price had been paid, and Name had been the one to pay it. And he… he was powerless to do anything but watch as her warmth slowly faded.

The weight of it crushed him.

“Please…” His voice cracked, the desperation in it thick enough to suffocate. “Please wake up. Please don’t leave me…”

Tears streamed down his face, unchecked and unrelenting, as he searched for any sign of life. A flicker of breath. A faint heartbeat. Anything. But there was nothing. Deep down, he knew. He knew. And still, he refused to accept it. His alchemical knowledge could no longer solve the irreversible at that moment.

“You can’t be…” His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. “You were everything to me… please… please come back to me…”

His grip tightened again, his fingers digging into fabric and skin as if sheer force of will could keep Lumine with him. His face, streaked with tears, twisted with pain, grief and desperation bleeding into every word, every breath, every sob that wracked his body.

Albedo did not know how long he knelt there, how long he held her, his tears falling like quiet snowfall onto her still face. He might have stayed there forever, frozen in time, lost in a grief so deep it swallowed everything.

And when help finally arrived, when another voice called out his name, it barely registered.

Because Albedo, the so-called perfect being, the prototype of a god—was broken.

“I can’t lose you…” His voice was hoarse, broken. “I can’t. You’re the one thing in this world I can’t stand to lose… please… come back to me…” His lips parted, but his voice barely made it past them now, nothing more than a whisper. A plea. A confession.

“…I love you.”

And yet, no answer came. No movement. No breath.

Only silence.

[the-indigo-symphony]

I have a bit of a silly question that I hope isn't overstepping. If it is, I just wish you a wonderful day!

But um. Is it possible to have been plural/a system? I may have just been over imaginative as a teen, but I tried so hard to fracture myself into an emotional self and a logical self (more to it than that, but in essence that was the case). Later on I crafted a... Disillusioned and cruel self that only really acted as a way to vocalize the insecurities and passive aggressive urges I felt.

I was always able to just. Be me (Emotion Self) and focus when something came up, and there were no blank spots in my memories. The others were little more than imaginary friends in most ways, so I really hesitate to define that fractured existence with any of these terms... Especially because at 19, we all agreed to accept the different facets and marge into one cohesive being. It was. A defining moment of my life. I won't say I never hated myself afterwards, but it was so, so very much less.

I still envision it sometimes. We're all standing, leaning our backs against a pillar, holding hands, asleep. The pillar is me, living on.

I hope this isn't uh. Rude. I don't by any means think anyone has to merge! It was right for me, that's all. But it leaves me feeling that same weird guilt I had about being ace and then experiencing sexual attraction. Like the sudden change now invalidated my lived experience for so many formative years of feeling broken and finding community to feel less alone, only for it to change and what if that was just another data point on ace people being late bloomers? What if my imagination was fake and my later merge is all a hit against the plural community?

Those both seem silly now. Sure I don't need ace resources as much anymore but they help me empathize and give words to my ace & aro friends. I guess I just wonder if I should even bring this up to systems as an avenue for empathy and understanding or if this is truly a different experience that would be offensive to compare?

Sorry, that was a lot. I'm half hoping Tumblr eats this. But it helps to get off my chest.

Anon, before I say anything else, please don't worry about being "just another data point against systems". Firstly, people who used to be plural but aren't anymore are still people that are important to the community and have a place here in their own ways, y'know? I know some queer communities expect you to cut all ties the second you find out you aren't x identity, and the plural community has problems in its attitudes towards former systems, but your experiences still matter and you have the right to speak up about them. Secondly, just like with ace people, it's not your fault if someone uses the fact that you're no longer x thing against the community. Your existence is not a problem, your personal change and journey through life is not a weapon, and it is not your fault if people want to be assholes – especially since they're also being assholes to you by doing this. You are not a data point against us; you are a person, and they are bigots objectifying you. Simple as that.

Moving on, yes, your experiences sound like plurality. The fact that you all agreed to merge and can envision your past selves stands out to me especially, since people who have been singlets their whole life typically don't need to go to the different "them"s inside their own head and say "hey should we all fuse together into a singular person". They'd just already be a singular person. It sounds like you might have been a created system for a time (or at least, something like intentional system creation played a part), then later decided that fusion would be better for you all, and so now you are a singlet. That's perfectly fine and I'm glad you're feeling better in your life!! Fusion is a legitimate option that can be great for some systems so long as its chosen out of their own free will. Due to how it often gets forced onto systems, fusion can be a touchy subject, but you're not a bad person for living a better life because of it. And you're definitely not hurting anyone by realizing your past experiences may have been (or been like) plurality! It's a wonderful thing that you found the words for something that was a part of your life and mattered (still matters, if this ask is anything to go off of) to you! This discovery is something to be celebrated, not ashamed of! Just because that chapter of your life is closed doesn't mean you have to completely divorce yourself from it. If systems and former systems did that, how would we ever get to bond over and grow/learn from our pasts? Being able to recontextualize the past and learn more about yourself through doing so is a great thing. You're not hurting anybody by realizing you were similar to, or one of, us.

I wish you a wonderful day, too, anon!

[wickmitz]

Do u actually ship rocky and mitzi?

to try and be as simple as possible, i suppose i do ship them ; i’m particularly drawn by their dynamic and have long since grown enamored with it … so, naturally, i enjoy turning them over in my head and shoving them together, seeing all the possible ways they fit and how they function when glued together. rocky’s feelings for mitzi are so intense and metaphorical that there’s a lot of ground to run with, honestly. it’s not a black and white relationship where they fit neatly under one label or another either, hence my constant use of the term ‘a secret third thing’ for them overall. there’s romance, obsession, desperation, platonic associations, and a thousand other factors embedded into what they have. rocky simply ‘seeing mitzi as a mother figure’ or ‘being totally in love with her in a traditional sense’ just doesn’t capture them with the justice they deserve. it’s more … muddled than that. rocky, at this point in time, is completely incapable of maintaining love anyway, and mitzi certainly isn’t any better either. in a context where i envision them together, that aspect is a big part of things : where they click together due to their inability to sustain a healthy and stereotypical romantic bond, and thus accidentally fuel each other’s unhappy paths. it’s easy to see how mitzi does this to rocky! but rocky is capable of doing it to her as well, what with his all-consuming need to be who she relies on and to restore the lackadaisy to it’s previous glory for himself and her. he enables her and she enables him, even if it’s subconscious and accidental. while there is undeniable fondness and care there, they are also walking down this path hand-in-hand, tugging each other along when one of then falters or pauses. so, to me, it’s not hard imagining things becoming closer and more intimate … who doesn’t want to be smashed together against someone who gives you all the validation you crave and never shuns you, twisting all your awful deeds into something good and believing you righteous at all times. it’s addicting! and natural. while rocky obviously would enjoy such a relationship, so would mitzi at this point in her life. where she’s exhausted and feels particularly ugly within, and is currently all alone.

they also would click in ways that wouldn’t force them to abandon how they currently go about romance. mitzi needs to spend a good portion of her day thinking about her dead husband and nobody else, meanwhile rocky is very enamored with being a knight in shining armor so to speak, only able to express himself through extreme devotion, a thing that ( as said by crew members on stream ) can’t singlehandedly keep a relationship afloat … normally. but mitzi can deal with rocky’s rather eccentric and destructive behavior, can take the only thing he can offer and accept it wholeheartedly, because she couldn’t handle anything more normal or mature right now. and rocky, despite his occasional displays of territorial behavior, never bats an eye at or feels inferior to mitzi’s atlas obsession. this wouldn’t be the case in other relationships, where both of them would have to change or grow in some way in order to keep the love stable and secure. there would be things they’d have to give up, or be vulnerable about, and both of them are too stubborn for that at this point. a random lover would always be a second thought compared to the lackadaisy.

( now, of course, i ship mitzi and rocky with other people! and i’m very interested in these bonds forming during canon’s events. but it’d either be an unhealthy relationship, due to everything i said above, or a happier sort of take on things : where mitzi and rocky are pulled from their minds’ unraveling edges and are both given the care, patience, and understanding they both need. one where they can set aside the lackadaisy for a moment or two, and can find genuine happiness somewhere else. i never see them as fully moving on from it, nor do i see mitzi fully giving up atlas or rocky fully giving up mitzi, but things can be softened and less insane. sometimes! )

now, is this healthy? no. but is this me saying they should be surgically removed from one another because they make each other ‘worse’? also no! i adore them in every sense of the word and acting like there aren’t positives attached to their dynamic would, frankly, be stupid of me. they are there for each other in their worse moments and approach each other with kindness, something they don’t really get from others anymore. they are genuinely happy to be in each other’s presence and have a habit of lifting each other up, or providing each other some much needed warmth on a bad day. you see it many times in the comic, situations where mitzi is devestated, and rocky rushes in to comfort her ; and he always succeeds in some way, wiggling that severe expression off her face and getting her to smile, even if it’s small and weak. and rocky loves that! it makes him happy to be able to ease her heartache and worries so. it makes him feel useful and needed, and she’s one of the only people in his life to give him even a sliver of praise here or there. here are some examples i can remember off the top of my head :

and while there isn’t many examples of mitzi praising rocky, she is also still one of the few people who shows concern over him and asks after him. there are also two scenes, in the pilot and in the comic, where rocky messes up big time, and mitzi has every right to be frustrated with him. she could yell, she could get mean, like rocky is so used to, but instead … she sucks it in and simply lets it go. this happens with the pig farmers, but also in the pilot most notably! where the second she realizes how hard rocky is taking her words, her reasonable and sympathetic irritation at things not working out, she backtracks. she forces those emotions away and simply says this, earnestly and kindly, and wipes the devestation off rocky’s face :

as much of an accidental negative influence they can have on each other, there’s also a more purposeful positive influence that is inherent in their dynamic. i wouldn’t ever want to dismiss that, nor do i enjoy when other people rush to do so themselves, claiming they’re simply no good for each other. well, they claim mitzi is a manipulative person who only sees rocky as a pawn, but i’ll pretend fans are critical of rocky’s many faults as well. the point is : they’re good for each other and to each other! they just happen to have a great capacity to cling and stay where they are rather than doing anything more beneficial or productive. any dynamic in lackadaisy can become toxic in a sense, given the fact that a majority of the characters are prone to indulging in their flaws and chasing what’s familar, what’s most comfortable, with little regard to anyone else. but i find that aspect interesting, and i love rocky/mitzi all the more for their accidental enabling and vastly obscured views.

the more romantic aspects aren’t really something i care too much about, overall. i play around with it and find scenarios where things can bloom in such a way, but them calling each other ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ isn’t something i care for. i do not think mitzi would ever be attracted to rocky in a sappy lovesick way -- she’s above fawning as it is, and is rather methodical about things like passion or adoration nowadays anyway. her eyes can’t exactly sparkle upon seeing rocky spilling syrup all over himself nor can she sigh dreamily at his nonsensical, improv poetry spiels that just burst out of him like water through a broken dam. but they could soften at the corners and she could convince herself of something romantic if it held her the right way. if she felt battered enough to give into it, or was lonely enough to indulge herself in a place she knows she’s wanted. rocky, on the other hand, is a bit easier to imagine here! he would never say no to miss m. and actively wants to ‘keep’ her already … if they were to become an item, an obscure, happenstance item, than he’d embrace it full heartedly! it’s been well established rocky isn’t one to turn down love or affection, so to get it from mitzi of all people? it’d be extremely ooc to even pretend he’d regret it or shy away. he loves her, of course he does, his beautiful dionysus : who unlocks her doors for him to enter, who smiles upon him with her wine soaked lips, who brushes a dainty paw across his shoulder and sings him praises like it doesn’t pain her to say them. she is warm and comforting and soft, and rocky is possessed by a maddening desire to wrap every spaghetti limb he has around her, and never let her go. again, his love is nothing short of all-consuming and obsessive where mitzi is concerned. her devoted acolyte! it would be simple to see how he’d get here in comparison to mitzi’s more wounded and guarded heart. i don’t think rocky fully loves her in only a romantic sense, however! i’m a firm believer that it is a mix of romantic and platonic feelings, an awkward and intensive blend of the two, this sort of combination that isn’t easy to sort through. he does take comfort in the fact she reminds him of a motherly figure, just as much as he genuinely finds her attractive and appealing in a puppy love kind of way. there’s also the fact that rocky is keen on lying to mitzi and wearing masks around her in the name of seeming more amazing in her eyes -- the fact his love for her is metaphorical and personal in equal measure, and the fact mitzi hides herself away from everyone around her. there would be a lot of untangling! a lot of pretending. this is a ship that will always have a multitude of layers and caveats attached to it, so to speak.

but that excites me! i like it! i love a dynamic that i could write endlessly about no matter the context it’s being framed in! how utterly unsurprising it is that the first lackadaisy fic i thought of was one that would focus heavily on these two and what’s happening between them, what could happen. mitzi wallowing in her self-inflicted misery while rocky prowls around her, begging to be useful to her while simultaneously chasing off a suitor of hers that he cannot stand to let near, is quite the image in my mind, and is one i always have looping around in the back of my head. the parallels to atlas/mordecai are an added bonus to this! if rocky is doomed by the narrative then mitzi is the narrative to which he’s bleeding himself upon, you know? that, as well as his own insecure delusions. mitzi, similarly, would easily waste away to nothing or get herself killed while trying to pursue her nostalgic ambitions if it weren’t for rocky being so willing to do the dangerous stuff for her. i think about how mitzi almost got herself killed in skedaddle and how rocky rushed to save her. while zib and ivy care for mitzi, and viktor is obligated to protect her, they are not as quick as rocky is -- nor as recklessly devoted to the point of readily given sacrifice.

anyway! i’m very fond of them, and there are so many scenes and other aspects of their characters that i could spend ages pouring over. this is, genuinely, merely a fraction of my thoughts on them. although i do hope i answered your question, anon! i got a bit carried away and i’m sure a lot of this is hard to parse through by default, but oh well!

[sweetbottletops]

Sumiko's first-ever English interview is with Anime News Network.

(full interview below in case the link dies)

Rockin' Out With Sumiko Arai, The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All Manga Creator by Lynzee Loveridge, May 16th 2025

When Sumiko Arai launched The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All on her Twitter account in 2021, she couldn't have predicted its meteoric rise in popularity. From social media to pixiv Comic, the four-page serialization quickly grabbed attention for its striking green accent color. Since its debut The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All won best web manga at the 2023 Next Manga Awards, ranked #2 in the 2023 Kono Manga ga Sugoi! listings for female readers, and ranked in the top 10 on BookScan's graphic novels list for February 2025.

Readership continued to grow as fans watched the gyaru Aya crush on the cool and collected music shop employee, Mitsuki. The discovery that Mitsuki was actually her female classmate added a twist to the story, as both girls' feelings evolved from a friendship into something more, fueled by a shared love for Western rock music.

Anime News Network sat down with Arai-san for her first-ever English interview to talk about her characters, lesbian love stories, what music she has in rotation, and that anime adaptation that everyone is so excited about.

Can you discuss designing the lead characters, Aya and Mitsuki? When it came to capturing Mitsuki's coolness, who or what might have been your inspiration?

Sumiko Arai: I took the most extroverted side of myself and kind of amplified it and put it into Aya, and then took the most introverted side of myself and put it into Mitsuki. I think that's the two very different sides of myself turned into characters, and I think I understand them that way the best. I really have loved polar-opposite kind of pairings in any story, and that's just always been something I wanted to write.

Are there other fictional couples that represent a similar hot-cold to you, even if they don't directly inspire Aya and Mitsuki?

Sumiko Arai: Okay. Well, I mean, obviously, this is in a completely different setting, but I loved Shelby and Toni from The Wilds. That was something that I was watching when I created these characters, but it's completely different. I just like their dynamic a lot.

Can you share your artistic journey with us? When did you first begin drawing, and what appealed to you about telling stories through the comic book medium?

Sumiko Arai: I started drawing at a younger age, but I always grew up with manga. I didn't really think that I would be doing this in the future. I just really liked the art and the pretty things in there, and I just tried to copy it and get better at it. So that was kind of my journey with art, and I think with comics, you know, a lot of Japanese kids aspire to be something like that. It's really, it's a really cool job. But I think what's really appealing about comics, in general, is that you feel more personal with all the characters because there's a visual attached to it. And that's how I felt.

I can retain information better. I feel like I can relate to the characters better because I see them visually, and I see their expressions; it kind of helps me out. I'm not a big book reader, you know? Even the most mundane kind of dialogue can be made into a very impactful scene just by it being paired with this expression of a character. That's what makes it beautiful.

Some moments are just completely different when you can see the reactions on the characters' faces compared to what you may envision if you're reading it in book form. That art really sticks with you. And there are certain visual images in manga and comic books that I think have almost become pop culture images that we all associate with.

Sumiko Arai: Oh yeah, for sure. Yeah. That's so cool.

Your manga has a unique publishing format, and each chapter is released in about four pages, which I think is how it originally debuted on social media. Is this format challenging for the storytelling that you come up with because you're restricted within four pages?

Sumiko Arai: So personally, I think that longer formats would be more intimidating for me now. I feel like I'm more used to the short format. I think it's kind of hard to put out four pages and be like, “Oh, please be sufficed by this.” Everyone wants to read a little more every week, but the challenge is that I have to cut a lot of dialogue or little details that I would put in there if it were longer. I have to make sure that it's short and concise and has a rhythm of its own, I guess, so that everyone can get the information and message they need from the chapter. But I think I like the format. I think even though it's kind of frustrating sometimes, to keep it short.

There are dramatic beats that the characters hit at various points. Is the format harder for that, or is it because it has its own rhythm already, and you're so accustomed to it that it works?

Sumiko Arai: Yeah, it works now. I think it was harder before, but I'm definitely more satisfied with it now.

Western music plays an important role in connecting Aya and Mitsuki. Is there a Western music album that played an important role in your life in a similar way? And is there an album you think you've listened to the most?

Sumiko Arai: So I grew up with a lot of foreign music because of my dad when I was little. He introduced me to Beck when I was a kid. And I really loved Beck's album Guero. It's the album with the white, red, and black cover. But it's really cool. I think that's the album that's my lifetime favorite.

But for music or albums that I've listened to a lot, like, front to back, I have a couple. Not necessarily rock, you know, I feel like I listen to other genres, too. Can I list them all?

Sure!

Sumiko Arai: I've always listened to the Beatles a lot, and Revolver is a big one, and Deftones. Around the Fur is a really good album. I think in my teen years, I listened to a lot of Half Moon Run, so Dark Eyes is a really good album. And a lot of Clairo. A lot.

Those aren't all rock bands, are they?

Sumiko Arai: I think some may be folk, kind of folky. I think Half Moon Run is a little more pop-folk. I mean, I'm kind of all over the place a little bit.

In your opinion, how can music benefit people who relate to Mitsuki? People who have a "different rhythm?"

Sumiko Arai: I think that when you're feeling a certain way, you feel like you can relate to this piece of music that someone you don't know wrote and have a shoulder to lean on a little bit. It's like a friend that you don't really have who understands it completely. I think in that way, it really does benefit you. But also, one song is all it takes for you to find a community that really likes the type of stuff that you like and can relate to. I think that's how music can be really beneficial.

It's a great way to connect people.

Sumiko Arai: Yeah, yeah. To find a community, you know, and see that you aren't really alone in this world at all.

Were you already a fan of yuri stories before you started The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All? What do you think makes yuri manga special?

Sumiko Arai: So I like yuri, but I was like always scouring the internet for any type of queer, like woman-loving-woman series or movies, because there really aren't much to watch. I've always been searching for something that I can relate to; I was a fan. I definitely saw a lack [of options] in it, so I wanted to make something to contribute, maybe. But just woman-loving-woman [media] in general is unique and special as it is, and I think that's what I love about it.

What were your feelings when it was announced that your manga would get an anime adaptation? Can you share if the color green might play an important role in the anime's visuals?

Sumiko Arai: I was very excited. Very excited. I really wanted to get the information out there to the readers because I had been seeing some people talk about it as something they wished would happen, and it's hard to know that information and not be able to say anything.

People are tweeting, “Oh, I hope this becomes anime,” and you know it will.

Sumiko Arai: Yeah, I was really pumped to get it out and to see everyone's reaction. It was very warm. That was great. Unfortunately, I can't say anything about the visuals at the moment, but I'm really hoping I can share some things soon.

Is there any importance to the specific songs that Aya and Mitsuki listen to together throughout the series? Do they represent a progression in their relationship?

Sumiko Arai: Yeah, I think some of them do. Some of them are just, you know, songs that they're listening to at that time and want to share with other people. But I think a lot of the time, I think about their headspace and what they're feeling at that moment, and try to find a song that fits them. Sometimes, stories come to me through listening to that song, and I think that's what's really special about this comic.

I saw they ended up making an official playlist for the series.

Sumiko Arai: It's on Spotify, Apple Music, and everything. That is the official playlist that I picked out the music for the series, but the premise is that the characters picked it, and I think that's what makes it kind of personal.

My last question is, what five music artists or songs are currently in your playlist?

Sumiko Arai: Okay, let's see. I am currently listening to Bloc Party and The Hives. I am also listening to Cream; I'm kind of all over the place.

Cream, Like Eric Clapton Cream?

Sumiko Arai: Yeah. And what else do I have? I have always loved Car Seat Headrest. They're gonna put their new album out soon, so I'm kind of pumped for that. And one more, The Cure.

The Cure is on permanent rotation, I think, right?

Sumiko Arai: Yeah, always, always.

The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All manga is available in English from Yen Press. Yen Press will release the third volume on October 25, 2025.

Disclosure: Kadokawa World Entertainment (KWE), a wholly owned subsidiary of Kadokawa Corporation, is the majority owner of Anime News Network, LLC. Yen Press, BookWalker Global, and J-Novel Club are subsidiaries of KWE.

[riririnnnn]

When Bachira was first introduced, I actually didn't quite like his character much.

At a quick first glance, it's not tough to perceive him as the stereotypical quirky best friend/companion character for a protagonist—at least, that's what I judged him to be. Not hating on sunshine characters, but the first thing that came into my mind was, "So cliché." After Ego's such an intense speech, I just didn't appreciate the thought of a character being opposite to the more serious tone of the Manga; felt like pushing a character into the bandwagon of, "Idc if I'm weird, I love being me."

But now if someone were to say that they don't like Bachira, then I give them the most diabolical side-eye to have ever side-eyed in the history of side-eyeing.

I don't know how or maybe Rin was speaking with what he had experienced himself, but he grasped Bachira's character much better and before Isagi did (read left to right):

I didn't think of it much at that time, I just thought Rin was just being all high and mighty, but a small realisation did form in the back of my mind that despite the whole concept/ideal of Blue Lock and being a top notch player himself, Bachira always appeared like he was looking for someone and while others were trying make a goal by themselves in the Team Z, he was passing to Isagi—that's one of the reason I think Ego saw through too, maybe that's why Bachira was in Team Z and not higher.

Panning the focus to his childhood:

Just look at him trying to convince them to play more soccer with him.

*sigh*

He is so precious and my heart nearly broke when those kids were calling him gross and weird:

As someone with Mommy issues, you might not fully understand how much I adore Bachira's mother. Without her, Bachira would've lost himself completely. She is just amazing.

..but:

It was because of her that Bachira was able to continue believing in himself. He didn't want to lose the voice that others lost—that's one of the reasons why I think he made an imaginary friend, his monster, so that he wouldn't forget the voice.

However, amidst everything, he was just.. lonely.

He envisioned his soccer through the image of his monster. It was easier that way, at least, for him. However, he could only see that monster in those who were behind the screens—the actual pro players. That's why he wished to play just like them and to find someone who played soccer like him, understood the 'fun' part of soccer.

He was so lonely..

..and that's when Isagi came:

I'm so sorry to all Isagi x Bachira shipper, but I, sometimes, can't help but low-key despise you guys. I'm not saying all, but many of you have just reduced them to a Twink x Twink ship. I'm not against shipping, ship whoever you want as long as it's morally ethical and you aren't shoving it down my throat, but this ship does overshadows the actual beauty of their relation—their beautiful friendship.

Bachira had already started doubting himself whether he'd ever find someone or not—whether he'd be forever lonely with his soccer or not and that's when Isagi came. That's why Bachira loves Isagi so much—he was his first true friend after all.

Just to clarify again, I'm not against Isagi x Bachira ship and neither do I hate it. Please do not attack me. I'm not trying to shame anyone for shipping them.

I hope @thebluelockroyals, you now understand why I think Bachira has a sad backstory.

Loneliness is awful and the fear of never finding someone who understands you and your love for something you enjoy is heart wrenching. Some might argue that he got a wonderful mother, but sometimes, it's just not enough. Helplessness never sees your comfort—he had her, but he wished for someone who resonated in the same frequency as him.

.

.

.

This face screams, "I ated glass":

Younger!Bachira gives me so much baby fever. God! The cuteness aggression! I'll definitely give my own child the same hairstyle as his.