#not just the ones we WANT to identify with.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Mark ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Mark x f!idol!reader

summary: you and you boyfriend Mark are paired up for an interview, but do you even know you're texting each other? No.

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Mark got comfortable in the plush, pink chair of the Kode set with a shy smile, "Ah hello, I'm Mark from NCT." He pushes his earbuds into his ears and begins playing his music, "today I'll be known as Cheetah. Um, I couldn't really think of anything else and the fans already call me a cheetah so it was easy to think of."

On the opposite side of the wall, you settle into your own chair while smiling at the camera while introducing yourself, "I was so confused when I was asked to pick a wild cat as my screen name. It was such an oddly specific category, and even weirder when you told me cheetah was already taken. Anyway, I chose Tiger because they're the next prettiest."

Your music begins to play through your earbuds as your phone vibrates from the first message from your partner. "Yo?" you read in confusion, staring at your screen with pure confusion, "is that it? This is a man isn't it? Girls don't talk like this."

On the other side of the wall Mark laughs softly, covering his mouth as he reads the message. "This person is so happy. I've never seen anyone write hi with this many i's."

You and Mark text back and forth for a while, sharing your hobbies and sending memes back and forth until the both of your are giggling madly on your respective sides of the set. Of course, after nearly 2 years together you'd know how to make each other laugh, even without knowing you're texting each other. Your partner still doesn't give you any identifying traits or hints as to who they are. Well, besides clearly being a man based on how he texts.

Following the instruction of the staff, you send a screenshot of your home screen. You pout, feeling slightly bad for your partner. Just two days ago you'd gotten a new phone and hadn't yet had the time to make it yours. It was stuck with the boring default background and a handful of apps you considered to be essential. You explain as much with the text accompanying the screenshot.

And Mark's screenshot? Well, it might as well be just as boring as yours. He has the blur set on the photo so all you see is an indistinct mess of colors. Two distinct blobs which could be the shape of two people or two flowers or two guitars or two cats.

"Wow," you say as you typed out the word, "we are two very boring people. You really don't want me to know who you are."

Mark laughs out brightly while he reads your text, "me? You haven't even changed your own yet!"

"I told you I just got a new phone and haven't had time yet!" You laugh to yourself while typing out your message.

Your joking back and forth gets the two of you off track while you playfully poke fun at each other back and forth until the staff ask you both who you think you're texting. Mark looks at the camera while he tries to think, "I have no clue. It's a girl, surely but it could be anyone. Do you pick random people off the street to do these videos?"

On the other side of the wall, you blush softly, covering your face while your face cools down, "is it weird if I say it's my boyfriend? He just seems so much like Mark."

It's one of the few times you've ever referred to Mark as your boyfriend for any sort media. You and Mark had technically been a public couple for about a year now, since your respective companies had come out with their statements to reveal your relationship. How you'd been able to conceal a year of your relationship was beyond the both of you. Well, a lot of dark, oversized clothes and hats and masks to conceal your faces.

After the company statements, you and Mark seemed to be even better at hiding. You barely glanced at each other at award shows, and if you did, it was only friendly, nothing that could be interpreted as anything else. There were very few glimpses into your relationship beyond birthday and anniversary posts with obscured faces and sharing each other's most recent comebacks on your stories. Privacy was something you both valued and of course you were more than ok with doing any type of promotion with Mark, it just never worked out that way. Until now (not that you knew). Plus, it wasn't like this interview would give anyone any important details of your relationship anyway.

When the staff prompt you both to share a screenshot of your most recently listened to songs, you stare at your screen with a look of blank surprise, "this is just a mix of Drake and Justin Bieber. It's Mark, it has to be."

You zoom in on the picture, mumbling about how you see more music that is so distinctly Mark while on the other side Mark looks at the screenshot you send excitedly. "She's a fan! Of me! Wow, she's listened to Child and Golden Hour and 200! Ok, I have to chill out a bit," he tells himself even as he types out his message telling you that you have good music taste.

You snort at his message just as the staff laugh at the exchange at the same time. The head producer instructs you both to find your baby pictures to send to the other.

You look up from your phone, looking at the camera and the staff, "surely, you'd think a couple who have been together for this long have seen pictures of each other when they were kids, right?" The staff nods in response before you speak again, "well, we haven't! I've only seen what has been posted online. Same for him!"

Mark sends you a picture of him as a baby where he's a few months old and you coo immediately. You zoom in as close as you can drawing your phone closer to you face as you star adoringly at the baby on your screen. "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen! I've never seen a cuter baby in my life! Oh, I just want to squeeze his cheeks and cuddle him," you gush over the adorable picture of the chubby baby boy with an adoring look on your face.

Mark looks at his phone, the camera, the staff, his phone again, the camera again with a look of pure and utter confusion as he looks at what he can only assume is a child covered in frosting. "You can barely tell this is a human, how is this supposed to help me figure out who I've been texting?" Mark asks, zooming in on the picture while the staff bursts out in laughter. When he finds out who he's talking to...

So when he staff ask for a final guess as to who you've been texting you say Mark's name confidently while Mark ultimately utters out, "Maybe someone from a girl group... maybe it's Yeri."

When the staff ask you both to stand and get ready to face each other to reveal yourselves. Instead of walking toward Mark, you find yourself behind the set so you're behind Mark.

Mark walks forward slowly, waiting to see when he'll spot his interview partner, but when he sees an empty spot, he faces the camera and the staff with a quizzical smile, "was I talking to a ghost?"

They laugh softly and murmur amongst themselves while you finally reach forward and tap his shoulder softly. Mark jumps, completely scared by the touch. He turns to you with his eyes wide with surprise, "you?!"

"Yes, me!"

After you're both seated at the high top table and calmed down from the surprise meeting with on another, you're both ready to talk to each other in front of the camera once again. You smile softly at your boyfriend, "I knew it was you."

Mark scoffs, "how?"

"Yo," you repeat the word from his first message with a poor imitation of his voice, "all the Drake, all the Bieber-- oh my gosh, Mark! Your baby picture!"

Mark laughs, taking your hand in his out of view of the camera, "speaking of baby pictures, what did you send me?"

Your brows furrow softly at his question, "I sent you a picture of me as a baby."

"There's no way that was you. You look like a little cake monster."

"It was from my first birthday..." you pout at Mark.

"Don't get pouty with me, you were completely covered, how could I have known? I can pout too! My face used to be your homescreen and now it's the plain default screen," Mark tells you with a playful pointed look.

"Mark," you deadpan, "you were with me when I got my new phone."

"Oh yeah..." Mark blushes with embarrassment.

"Anyway, who did you think I was?"

Mark squeezes your hand nervously beneath the table, his thumb rubbing at your knuckles a little anxiously, "I had no clue, to be honest. I knew you were a girl but I didn't know it was you."

When the staff ask Mark how he didn't know but you did, all he can do is blush and laugh out a nervous response. You turn to him with a playful accusatory look of your own, "yeah, how come you didn't know?"

"I don't really pay attention to how you text, just what we text about..."

You and the staff coo as you pinch his cheeks and cup his face lovingly, "you're so cute, but you were cuter as a baby."

"My mom says the same thing," Mark rolls his eyes.

Your conversation winds down and you both pose for the selfie at the end. You both pull silly faces, cheeks pressed together and eyes scrunched shut with your tongues sticking out.

Despite the stupid picture you both took, the screen fades to black with a completely different picture of you and Mark laughing while looking at each other with hearts in your eyes and bright smiles on your faces.

[octuscle]

Exchange student: Athens (GA)

Benjamin was not particularly happy that he had come to Georgia as an exchange student. Athens... He had wanted something in New England. Or at least in California. But he hadn't been able to choose. Athens had taken him.

The introductory week had been a disappointment. His fellow students were almost exclusively from the neighborhood, the boys were interested in football and hunting rifles, the girls in boys. It was all so clichéd that it was hard to express. But there was actually a very good grand piano in the assembly hall and Benjamin had been given permission to use it for his daily exercises after a short audition. He had not yet met his roommate. He wasn't due to return to university until a week later because of some family business. Benjamin was hoping for someone who was also interested in classical music and expressionism. Or at least someone who was also studying literature, art history or something similar.

It was the night from Saturday to Sunday when the door opened with a huge crash at around 02:00. Someone threw a duffel bag onto the bed and turned on the light. Benjamin blinked startled at the sudden light. He couldn't see anything against the light. But it smelled of sweat and a few other things he couldn't identify. The shadow took off his shirt, threw it on the floor and sat down on the other bed. Benjamin's eyes adjusted to the light and he began to recognize something.

"Well howdy, you must be Ben. I'm Hunter, no lie, that's my name, partner. Shoo, it ain't even 2 o'clock yet. What in tarnation are ya doin' in bed?" Benjamin was disgusted. He would have to share the room with a redneck. He turned around and mumbled, “Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to sleep.” Hunter just said, “Well, that’s on you if ya overlook somethin’, darlin’,” rummaged in his duffel bag and disappeared again. It must have been around 04:00 when he returned. Now it also smelled of booze. Benjamin pretended to be asleep, even though Hunter was making a lot of noise. After he had finished clearing out his things, Benjamin heard him burp loudly a few more times. And soon he was snoring.

When Benjamin's alarm clock rang at 07:00, Hunter was still snoring. He was lying naked on the comforter. Benjamin had to admit with envy that he was well trained. His butt was firm. His upper body was deeply tanned and Hunter was pale below the waist. A guy who worked out in the fresh air. Benjamin's cock got hard. He quickly grabbed his scrubs and headed for the washrooms. He wanted to be at the Georgia Museum of Art early. When he returned to his room, freshly showered, Hunter was lying awake on his bed. Jerking off his morning wood. “Well, howdy there, early riser! Ain't that somethin'! You fixin' to hit the pavement for a run?” Benjamin turned around, embarrassed. Because he didn't want to disturb Hunter while he was wanking. And because his own cock was leaking precum into his boxer shorts. “No thanks, I wanted to go to the museum.” “Real neat, we got one 'round these parts? Been here a whole year and didn’t even know. Might just tag along next time, if y'know what I mean.” “That would be nice,” Benjamin replied as he hurriedly got dressed and left the room. He had to go to the washrooms again before he went to the museum. He really needed to wank. He thought about Hunter.

He wasn't really focused in the museum. At the beginning, he made sketches of the halls and the works of art on display. He was actually surprised by the quality. There were top-class works here. But when he caught himself doodling a stag in his notebook the third time, he decided that he would probably be better off getting some fresh air. He took his rucksack out of his locker and left the museum. The fresh air did him good. Benjamin walked along Campus Road. He passed the Georgia Museum of Natural History. It was still early. He went inside.

Natural history wasn't really his hobby. But Benjamin was fascinated by the dioramas of the local animal world. He enthusiastically made sketches of the deer. Why the hell had he already made them at the art museum? And why were the deer he was drawing now often hunted prey? He probably just couldn't get Hunter out of his head. He was getting a hard-on again. Benjamin made his way back to the dormitory. Hunter and he hadn't got off to a good start. But now he would like to put that right.

"Down at th’ park wit’ the boys, tossin’ sum balls ‘round. Y’all come on by if ya wanna join!" The note was on Ben's pillow. There was a lot else lying around the room. It was as if a bomb had gone off. Hunter was obviously not the tidiest of people. There was a camouflage T-shirt on the floor. Benjamin pressed it to his face. It smelled of sweat and masculinity. He couldn't help it. He had to jerk off again. This time it came with unexpected force. Shit, on the floor, on the bed, his cum was everywhere. He took one of his dirty towels from the laundry basket and tried to clean it up as best he could. And then he made his way to the park. He had to watch Hunter play football with his buddies.

Benjamin had to search a bit to find Hunter and his friends. But it was worth it. A gang of young rednecks in the prime of their youth, on their way to becoming real men. Their muscles were glistening with sweat, their mullets sticking wet to their heads. “Yo, Ben!” Hunter shouted when he saw Benjamin. Benjamin was amazed that Hunter had recognized him. Hunter ran up to him and did a fist bump, which Benjamin returned somewhat awkwardly. “Hey there, what in tarnation are ya doin’ just standin’ ‘round like a bump on a log? Get yourself changed and hit that field!” Benjamin said that he had nothing to change into. “Floyd, you knucklehead! You got your gym gear?” Hunter yelled across the pitch. He, who was presumably Floyd, yelled back “Sure thing!”. Hunter went to a bag and threw it to Benjamin. “Here ya go, this oughta fit ya, Big fella!” Benjamin was a little embarrassed to just change in the open field. But there was no turning back now. The last time he had played football was five years ago. And he had been bad. Really bad. Now he was standing on a field in sweaty, oversized clothes belonging to a guy he didn't know called Floyd and had to play football with a guy he hardly knew, but had already wanked off on twice today. The ball flew towards him. Benjamin caught it with a leap. “To me!” roared Hunter. And with a powerful and precise pass, the ball flew to Hunter. “Bloody hell!” thought Benjamin.

The sun was about to set. The boys were lying on the grass, drinking some kind of isotonic thirst quencher. They had all taken off their shirts. Hunter's head was on Benjamin's stomach. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, buddy! You best be chowin' down more and hittin' them weights less. That belly of yours ain’t got no softness to cuddle up to!” “In your dreams!” replied Benjamin, tousling Hunter's wet hair. Damn, he was well on his way to becoming a jock... Benjamin and Hunter spent the evening together, when the sun went down, they went to the movies and then out for a burger. Benjamin had never spent a Sunday like this before. It felt wrong. But it felt so good!

The next morning, Hunter's alarm clock rang at 05:30. “Dude, running and gym!” he said as he shook Benjamin awake. Benjamin had done more sport yesterday than he had ever done in his life. But without argument, he put on Floyd's dirty and sweaty clothes and the two of them set off. Benjamin actually had his first lecture at 08:30. English poetry of the 19th century. But he couldn't leave Hunter to bench press on his own. And so it was 09:00 when he arrived in the lecture hall. In his sweaty gym clothes. Without his homework. His professor asked him to join her after the lecture to explain to him clearly that this was not the performance she expected. And that he would stink. Benjamin raised his arm and took a deep breath from his armpit. “You're damn right,” he said, nodding appreciatively. His cell phone vibrated. “Fucc dude, 4got my laptop.  Bring it by, bruh. Warnell school of 4estry and natural resources” Benjamin knew where that was. Behind the natural history museum. Next lecture wasn't for another hour. Benjamin sprinted home, grabbed the computer from Hunter's desk and ran into the department. “I'm at the entrance, bro,” he wrote. ‘Cum 2 the library,’ Hunter replied. Benjamin followed the signs. Floyd was waiting outside the library. “Hey y'all, thanks a million! You’re a real lifesaver for Hunter and me. And I gotta say, them clothes are lookin' sharp. And that mullet? Pure gold!” Benjamin blushed and said that he would do the washing today and Floyd would bring the clothes back clean tomorrow. Floyd laughed and said that they had only been on for a week, a bit early to wash them. Benjamin joined in the laughter and headed off to his next lecture. Bloody hell, what had Floyd said. Mullet? What mullet? He ran his fingers through his hair sweaty from running. It was sticking to the back of his neck. Benjamin searched for a window pane to look at his reflection. Shit, he had a similar hairstyle to the boys.

Tuesday morning was Hunter and Ben's first lecture, “Ecosystems and Habitat management” in Professor Castleberry's Wildlife Ecology and Management class. They both got quite a telling off for missing the first lecture the previous week. Hunter's excuse was that he couldn't leave his parents' hunting lodge because of the storm. The story of how the bridge had been washed away sounded super realistic. Ben had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud. He knew that Hunter simply hadn't wanted to leave without killing the big stag. Ben's excuse was less original. The fact that he was wrongly enrolled in art history and literature led to great laughter in the lecture hall. A guy with “corn-fed Midwestern boy” literally tattooed on his forehead couldn't be in a worse place than in a lecture on 19th century English poetry. Luckily, the two best buddies were given two adjacent seats. They hadn't showered after the gym today either. Very few of their fellow students wanted to sit next to them. But it was their lucky day anyway. Although the registration deadline had actually already passed, they both still got a place on the excursion to the “Population biology and ecology” field trip at the weekend. They could hardly wait for Friday. Finally a chance to get some fresh air and hopefully a good piece of game. Their hunting rifles were already threatening to rust.

A few of his fellow students knew that his real name was Ben. But everyone here called him Buck. Hunter and Buck. It just went together. The two of them studied together, pumped iron together, played football together. They hunted together. And yes, they also fucked together. But only without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

Pics by @ki-kink

[transfemme-shelterdog]

i can't send this from my queer blog, but this is genderqueerdykes and i just wanted to say thank you for running this blog. i'm intersex, and i'm a trans man and a trans woman. people love to invalidate whichever gender of mine they please depending on the context. i've had people start misgendering me, treating me with transmisogyny and denying that i'm a "real trans woman" because i stand up for trans men and mascs, and am partly one. people seem to want to completely ignore that i'm intersex for the sake of saying i'm "lying about being transfem" as some type of lame "gotcha". that is intersexism and transmisogyny whether or not they see it that way

people don't want to own up to their own internalized transmisogyny. i have no idea why it offends people that intersex people exist and that we have a complex relationship with gender, but people are not only gladly showing their transmisogyny and transandrophobia on their sleeves, but now their intersexism, too. if people on here disagree with me, they get to deny my gender and say that i'm now magically not transfem or a trans woman despite my intersex variations leading me to live a very real, very transfeminine life

i was assigned male at birth and then had "corrective" procedures done to change my body to be more female, including Estrogen and progesterone HRT in my teens. i've been denied womanhood and femininity my entire life because i'm "too masculine" and look "too much like a man" even before i started T HRT. i wasn't allowed to be a girl as a child or teenager, let alone as an adult. people who were literally assigned male at birth aren't allowed to be transfeminine or trans women anymore. that's how wrapped up in discourse that makes no sense we've become. thank you for doing what you do, and i hope people don't fucking misgender you just because you stand up for trans men.

i hope you have a fantastic week, actually, make that life, and take care of yourself. thanks for being here for trans men and mascs. thanks for being yourself. also fellow nonhuman here, i'm also a canine, you rock!

Oh hey, Equinox, huge fan of your GenderQueerDykes blog, been following it for a while now, I also very much appreciate the work you do on that blog.

Yeah, I don't know why people are such assholes about the situation. The concept that one's internal workings and how they present themselves/their external appearance sometimes don't line up and it can lead to weird gender fuckery is lost on a lot of trans women, for some reason. Like, you'd like that the community that talks so much about passing and "boymoding" would be more understanding that gender and sex are convoluted and messy. Same with intersex people, sometimes their relationship with sex and gender is weird, and that's ok.

I totally support you, and however you choose to identify/present yourself. The way I see it, is that gender is a personal thing, and trying to correct people on what is and isn't "true gender" is ass-backwards and regressive. That goes for everyone, whether intersex or perisex, your gender is yours and yours alone.

I just wish that people, especially trans women, would be more accepting of people who have complex and "problematic" genders, and would cut the transandrophobia and transmisogyny.

I'll always be here for you, and anyone else who needs a feisty trans bitch in their corner. I hope you also have a wonderful life, and keep being yourself sweetheart.

[comradical]

If you’re a woman who has sex with a male, you are not a lesbian. I’ve witnessed transwomen have tantrums about it.

Most trans teens are being nonbinary or trans because it’s trending. When people wanted to be different a decade they were punk or goth or something. Now they’re “queer”

men can’t be lesbians

Women often identify as men or nonbinary because they think they’re special or not women because they have human thoughts and emotions. Literally just talk to any nonbinary woman.

No, being trans is about switching gender roles. You’re not breaking anything by saying you’re a woman because you like painting your nails and having long hair. You’re a woman because you’re female. It’s very easy. The concept of gender is misogynistic trash that your community put lipstick and glitter on and pretend that it’s not the exact same thing by “spicy”

LGB is only focused on trans people right now because you guys won’t stop throwing tantrums about us. Leave us alone do we can do actual activism. You’re not stopping straight people from killing us. You’re the ones hiding behind us for protection

I’ve talked to many trans people. I used to identify as male because of the desire to escape femininity. I used to have almost all trans friends, and I can see it for what it is.

Acknowledging reality is not hateful. I’m sorry you don’t have an actual argument other than throwing buzzwords at me. You’ll grow up one day and realize how cringe this whole thing is.

By cutting out the TQ+, you also cut out:

-Intersex people

-Two-spirit gays and other culturally connected gays

-Gender nonconforming people

-Those who are questioning their sexuality

-Gays, lesbians, and bi's who are supportive of trans people

-Millions of kind, loving, supportive humans who have gone through indescribable, traumatic abuse and wish to build a safe, welcoming community

Why are you so eager to exclude and belittle people? Why do you tell them they 'don't know what real struggle looks like' when their healthcare, their future, and their lives are under attack? Do you truly value 'love', or do you just want to swat away as many people as possible? Why do you continue to hide under a rock and dig yourself deeper into festering hatred, when you can simply come out and support people who can help you?

Wouldn't it be easier to unite with our trans and nonbinary friends to help defeat the growing threat of genuine fascism in our country? Those conservative Christian nationalists and white supremacists who tell you you're "one of the good ones" would gladly turn around and shoot you in a heartbeat, because when they say they're fighting the 'woke gender ideology', they'll mutter in the same breath that you gays are 'degenerates', 'sodomites', and 'animals'. Why would you side with the villains, who see you the same way they see us?

We cannot let oppression continue in any form. We will all be on the winning side of history as we step closer to ending the cycle of hatred and bullying. Open your hearts and minds and you'll find that the everyone around you is just as human as you, and are more similar to you than you'd think. Trans people are people, just like you, and we need your help and support just as much as you need ours.

Isn't it neat how people who are supportive of all LGBTQ+ identities are also kinder, more loving, more empathetic, and more caring towards their friends and loved ones? Just something to think about.

Love wins. Trans rights are human rights.

[caelisblade]

༉‧₊˚. favorite crime - fushiguro toji

༉‧₊˚. synopsis: one moment, you were doing something as basic as taking out the trash (like, literally), the next moment you were getting fucked by a wanted felon who pretty much broke into your place in hopes you‘d harbor him for a few minutes until the coast was clear. who knew the thrill of crime was so exhilarating you needed a quick one-night-stand to come back to your senses? or did you lose your mind entirely and just didn‘t notice in the process of being fucked into tomorrow?

༉‧₊˚. warnings: you literally f/uck murderer!toji lol, unprotected s/ex, c/unnilingus, f/ingering, he calls you princess (like, a lot of times), toji talks A LOT like dude shut up lmao

༉‧₊˚. this was entirely inspired by a scene in the rookie where lucy made up a cover story for how juicy and dim met, it's basically that but with toji. this is a repost from my jujutsu kaisen blog @/tojisblade. i am currently in the process of combining both of my blogs into one.

he was in so much fucking trouble. 

never did he even think the cops were onto him, god, the fucking cops in plain clothes, they were in the same club he was as he was adding poison into his target’s drink. they literally saw him poison the drink. now they were running after him, trying to catch him. 

toji quickly ran into a massive apartment complex as he tried to flee the scene, the cops nearby behind him. looking around to see if there was anyone or any place he could hide, as he still ran. 

it was like fate when you opened the door, purely by coincidence. you were getting out to take out your trash as you saw him running frantically. “hey, are you oka–“, you started out asking, but got interrupted. 

“listen to me. the cops are after me and i need a hideout. can i stay in for a moment until they leave?”, he said, frantically. 

“w-what?”, you stuttered, completely caught off-guard. 

“fuck, just shut up”, he groaned before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside of your apartment. 

“hey! what do you think you’re doing?!”, you exclaimed, still not completely getting what was going on. you had dropped the bag in shock as he pulled you in. 

“shut. up!”, he hissed, looking out of the window, just to see the two cops who were after him walking around the apartment complex with their guns drawn and flashlights turned on as they cleared every corner. “shit.”

he looked around, trying to figure out what he could possibly do with his situation before he finally faced you. “okay, listen. my name is fushiguro toji, and i am being chased by the cops out there. i know, i’m just a stranger, but trust me, i am not going to hurt you, despite how this all seems like, considering the cops are after me.”

“uh… yeah, duh”, you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“roll those eyes at me again and i’ll reconsider”, he immediately continued, tone turning threatening almost immediately. “do not fucking interrupt me, princess.”

“fine, talk. you just broke into my apartment, so i do deserve some explanation. start talking, or i’ll kick you out for the cops to find you.”

“and I apologize for the break-in. i swear i don’t plan on hurting you because that is just unnecessary evil, even for me. i just need a couple of minutes here to hide, so that i can run in peace. is that okay?”, toji asked. you were so convinced you had lost your damn mind when you nodded and agreed that he could stay over for a couple of minutes. 

“if the cops knock, i am not here”, toji emphasized again, making sure you got it. you held yourself back from rolling your eyes again. you might’ve needed a moment to understand what was going on, but you were not dumb. 

as if on cue, there was a loud knock, startling you. you stayed quiet as you pointed at the bathroom for toji to hide. your heart was beating so fast, as you went to the door and asked; “who is there?”

“police department. we want to ask you a few questions”, the officer yelled back. 

“can you please identify yourself?”, you stalled as you checked if toji had hidden. you looked through the peephole as the cops held up their detective badges before you smiled softly and opened the door for the cops. 

“what seems to be the problem, detectives?”, you asked gently. 

“we are in search of a murderer going by the name, fushiguro toji. black haired, very tall and muscular. last seen wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans. he is classified as extremely dangerous. we last saw him entering this apartment complex. have you seen him, by any chance?”, the officer asked. 

you pretended to think a little before you shook your head. “nope. i was actually on my way out to take out my trash so, i was inside the whole time.”

“alright, ma’am, please give us a call if you see or remember anything. would you want us to accompany you when you go outside, in case you don’t feel safe?” one of the two detectives handed you a card with his contact details as he spoke and offered his company. 

you nodded at the offer, tagging along as you took out your trash and thanked the officers for the help. “could you possibly tell me a little about that person you’re looking for? perhaps that will help me with my memory or something i can watch out for in the future?”

“i cannot disclose any details yet as it is an ongoing investigation, however, the current m.o of the suspect is that he uses poison in his victim’s drinks. so, perhaps just watch out for your drink the next time you’re out partying.”

“thank you, officers. i can return to my apartment alone, thank you for the company. i’ll uh… let you know if I see something”, you said goodbye to the officers before turning around. 

“goodbye, ma’am, have a good night”, they said in unison. 

you quickly headed back, your entire body was literally on fire after that short conversation and the fact that you were literally harboring a felon – a literal murderer – in your apartment had you shaking to your core. once you locked your apartment and made sure the cops were gone, you were suddenly pushed to the wall next to the door. “good girl. you did great”, Toji had you cornered, smirking at you as you looked at him with big eyes, shocked by his sudden action. 

“thank you”, you whispered back, not trusting your own voice. the little nickname caused you to subconsciously clench your legs together. his arm was over your head on the wall, cornering you between his huge body and the wall. “you’re not so bad yourself. out on several murder charges, huh?”

“so, you asked about me, didn’t you?”, toji chuckled, biting his lip. “yeah… what about it? you scared?”

“i should be, shouldn’t i? but god, it makes you oddly attractive and interesting. so, tell me, what is that all about?”, you ask then, a little smile sneaking onto your lips. “a murder suspect in my apartment, who insists on promising me that he won’t hurt me, hm?”

“attractive and interesting?”, Toji chuckled. “i may or may not have added some extra ingredient to some dickhead’s drink.” He casually shrugged, eyeing you up and down. 

“so, that was why they said to be careful of my drinks next time i’m out partying, huh?”, you replied. 

“i would never add some additional ingredient to your drink, princess”, toji taunted before he suddenly leaned in and kissed you. you couldn’t help but immediately melt into him, arms wrapping around his neck, as his one hand wrapped around your thigh and lifted it up around his hip. 

everything felt so surreal. one moment you were literally taking out your trash, the next you were not only harboring a murderer in your apartment, but also about to fuck him.

the kiss was so full of fire, so much passion and there was nothing but carnal desire and need – it was like the fact that he was a murderer, a wanted felon, flew right over your head. you simply couldn’t care less about it because, fuck, the entire situation was so incredibly hot, the fact that the cops were still around searching the premises was making you feel so tingly. 

“mhm, princess, you taste so sweet. i wonder if your pussy tastes just as sweet, hm?”, he whispered against your lips, smirking. “will you let me have a taste?”

“maybe… but maybe i won’t. you’ve got to earn it, mister.”

“what a tease, princess. but you know what, you shouldn’t tease me, because believe me, i can do better than that”, he continued, before he leaned back in to kiss you once more as you grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, your eyes going up and down over his very toned and muscular body. 

and you felt so insanely lucky to think about the fact that his body would be on top of you or underneath you in just a couple of minutes. 

“so, you wanna move this over to the bedroom or are you not that much of a gentleman and just fuck your women against a cold ass wall?”, you giggled.

“oh, I sure as hell do not keep my women cold and standing, mh? wouldn’t be so fair if i fuck you into oblivion and don’t give you a comfortable place to come down from the highs i give you, hm?”

“someone’s cocky. but alas, unfortunately, there has been nothing but talk so far, honey”, you reply, giggling before you squealed in shock as he lifted you up over his shoulder. 

“where’s the bedroom, princess?”, he asked, voice rough. “need to teach you how to properly speak to me before i reward you with pleasure you have never felt in your life before.”

when you pointed to the room, he immediately went in and dropped you onto your bed, quickly climbing onto you, practically ripping apart your clothes. “god, princess, you’re so hot, so gorgeous underneath me”, he groaned, lips wandering down to your tits before he wrapped them around your one nipple, sucking and licking over the sensitive nub. your body arched into him as you let out a whine and toji smirked, enjoying the way you responded to his touch. 

“reacting so fucking perfectly for me, princess. can’t wait to get a taste of your pretty pussy”, he teased. “did i earn it yet, princess?”

you nodded frantically. “fuck, just get to it”, you whined. 

“so bossy, princess. such a good little slut for the murderer you harbored in your home and protected without knowing what dangers could possibly await you”, he snickered, “does it excite you? knowing you lied to cops for me, for someone you don’t even know? for the murderer you’re about to fuck?” toji’s lips wandered down your body, slowly reaching your pussy and he pulled your panties aside to lick over your clit, flattening his tongue over your folds as he spread your legs apart with his hands. 

“fuck don’t stop!”, you cried out, back arching again into his grip around your waist. 

he looked up at you, smirking as some saliva was running down his chin, and he was watching your every reaction. toji had grown obsessed with how well you reacted to his touch, his tongue over your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit. “reacting so prettily for me, princess. want more? want me to fuck you? i’ll bring literal heaven to you, princess. if you let me.”

you were nodding once again, fingers buried in his hair as he lowered his head back again to your pussy and you felt two of his fingers against your entrance, slowly slipping in and fingering you slowly. your eyes widened in surprise, you let out a choked sob as his fingers hit your sweet spot – you cried out as he continued with the constant stimulation. 

“please, toji, fuck me, please?”, you whined, attempting to pull him closer back on top of you. however, he was obviously way stronger than you and could stay where he was with no trouble at all. 

“it’s rude to interrupt a man while he’s eating, princess”, he grunted, “let me make you cum first on my mouth, princess, then i’ll fuck you.”

you whined as he increased his finger’s pace, continuing the sweet torture on your pussy with his lips as well and your hips were jolting up as you got closer to your release. a cry left your lips as you begged him not to stop and felt him smirk against your clit, promising not to stop until you came for him. 

it didn’t take too long for him to fulfil that promise. the way everything practically shattered around you had you thinking about the last time you had felt this much pleasure at once. “holy shit”, you choked up. “that was… intense.”

“told you, princess, i’ll bring literal heaven to you”, he smirked, slowly climbing on top of you and watching you come down from your high. “did i keep my promise, princess?”

“you sure as hell did. but…”, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer for a kiss, “if you don’t put that damn cock of yours inside me anytime soon, i bet the cops will be very interested in knowing where you’re hiding.”

“you little minx… don’t worry, princess. i gave you a promise and i intend to keep it. you’re about to have the most intense night of your life.”

as he pulled down his jeans, your eyes widened as you saw his cock’s girth and length. you had already assumed that he was big, considering his big ass ego, but you didn’t expect this. he noticed your hesitation and laughed lightly. “don’t worry, princess, i won’t hurt you.”

“you’re a wanted criminal, do you think I trust your word?”

“i promised i wouldn’t hurt you and i kept that promise. i told you i would bring you to heaven and i did keep that promise, too, didn’t i?”

you considered his arguments and shrugged. he had a good point with that. 

“so, do you believe me when i tell you i won’t hurt you?”

You nodded. 

he smiled softly at you before he aligned his tip with your entrance, pulling your panties aside once more and finally, pushed his cock inside slowly, inch by inch, slowly getting you used to his size. your back arched when he was buried inside of you fully, a tear rolling down your cheek as your body was basically on fire. 

“you’re so tight, princess, feels so good”, he groaned, waiting for a moment to let you adjust to the stretch. “can’t wait to fuck this tight and perfect pussy of yours.”

“please, fuck me”, you whimpered, nails raking over his back as he slowly started a tender, gentle pace and before you knew it, he was starting to build a merciless, brutal rhythm, making your tits bounce with the frantic way he was thrusting into you.

the sound of his hips snapping against yours had your eyes rolls back, your legs were wrapped around his waist as you held onto him and you were pleading him not to stop, practically crying and he fucked you so good like you never had been before. 

“goddamn it, princess, you’re so fucking hot when you get fucked like this. do you like how i fuck you, hm?”, he rasped, lips wandering over your neck. His hips stuttered as pleasure like he never felt before coursed through his body, getting closer and closer to the edge. “i’m going to cum, princess, where do you want me to cum, hm? on your pretty tits? in your mouth, so you’ll have to swallow every single drop? or maybe inside of your tight, perfect pussy, hm? give you a good old load of me and make you feel it drip down your thighs when i pick you up and fuck you against the wall over there?”

his words had your eyes roll back at the visual. “please, inside”, you whined, sobbing as you clenched around him and finally reached your peak, coming around him again, sputtering in pleasure. “fuck, toji”, you practically wailed. 

“am i keeping my promise, princess?”

“yes, fuck, you are, stop asking me that and cum in me”, you groaned in annoyance. 

“still so bossy, princess”, he laughed before he continued his rough pace and shortly after let out a choked breath, hips stilling as he came inside of you. toji wasn’t moving at all, trying to come down from his high while he relaxed his body. “fuck, princess, you feel so incredible.”

“oh, fuck, this was better than anything i have ever felt before.”

“i’m glad i got to prove to you how good i can fuck you”, he chuckled, slowly pulling out of you and laying down next to you. 

“hey, i thought you were going to fuck me against the wall and have your cum drip down my thighs?!”

“you wanna go again?”

“hell fucking yes”, you snorted and squealed when he got up on his feet and pulled you up before pushing you against the wall, lifting your legs around his waist as he kept you up against the wall and quickly slid his cock back inside of you, fucking you again and bringing you to yet another earth-shattering orgasm and another one. 

and the most exhilarating part of this was that you could hear the detectives through the thin walls, discussing their next move to finally find the guy who currently had his cock buried deep inside of you. 

the one who you had lied to the cops to, making you an accessory to the murder he had committed.

but you couldn’t care less about it, because goddamn, this was the best fuck you had gotten in your entire life. 

[moonshinesonic-moonstarslight]

More Little Villains!

MQF: So Shen-shixiong and Shang-shixiong ran into a pile of plants. Two of which you have identified as Parents Longing Blossom and Baren Soul Lotus, correct?

SQQ agrees while SQH is staring up at the ceiling dead eyed, two slumbering children tucked against him. (The trip back to the sect was... A thing SQH doesn't want to recall right now. The kids are definitely some versions of the ogs, though. Of that he's sure on now.)

MQF: *hums before directing SQQ over to be examined first, fully aware that getting the other three will take some time so first handle the one not buried* Did either of you recall any reactions or symptoms of any sort?

SQQ: *remembers falling onto SQH and feeling something in his gut at the fact his friend was under him groaning and whining softly, then the tingly feeling going down his neck and through his spine and arms, before seeing the growing red and black marks appearing on Airplane's neck and pulling the man out of the plants only to notice that he had the same marks on his arms* /gives description of events while not admitting to having a similar feeling in his gut only days ago when he ended up falling on top of SQH while they were goofing around/

MQF: I see. And were there any further reactions after you both got out? *Checks arms and gently prods spirit veins to check on the WOC)

SQQ: *winces at the memory of SQH coughing up green and blue goop, leaking black from his eyes, and the screams of pain and terror as the man clawed at his neck, arms, and his thighs. And the agony of white and green goo coming out of his own arms* Yes ../goes into extreme detail because he knows Airplane won't and he is rightfully worried about his friend/

Shen Jiu: *just woke up and is listening, bleary-eyed and tired he pokes Shang Si awake (SQH fell into a doze, he's so tired) and gets him to listen in as well*

Shang Si: *grumpy at being woken up, listens to SQQ describing the what is basically their rebirth into this world, rolls his eyes and curls back onto Mama's chest*

Shen Jiu: *scowls, turns his attention to Mu-shidi talking with the strange entity in his old body, is not happy with this but Shang-shidi has a plan, now if only the brat was awake to help him put it into action*

SQH: *unconsciously pulls children closer*

Shen Jiu: *still in the body of a 13month old, is starting to feel hungry, has been harassing Shang-shidi's cosmic entity the whole time back to the sect and isn't going to stop now, especially when the reactions are well worth the humiliation he suffers* Mama. *Pulls at robes* Mama, milk.

SQH: *dragged from his doze, and is so very tired of this insistence for milk he doesn't have* A-Jiu.. Mama doesn't have milk. Shidi could you please send a disciple for some? I fear of being assaulted and sucked on for non-existent milk here.

SQQ: *quietly* They have tried already at least once per child. Thankfully they are old enough for soft food so we had fed them, even though they were insistent on trying to breastfeed.

MQF: *wants to laugh, very much not laughing because he's a professional and Shang-shixiong's scary when tired and just done with the world* Of course. Shang-shixiong, do you have a wrist I can see?

SQH: *shuffling kids, tries to hand one over to SQQ* Bro. Shixiong. Tears or no tears, please.

SQQ: *takes Shen Jiu, because while he is willing to help he is not dealing with a screaming Shang Si, who'll not be happy with waking up away from Mama, if he can help it* A-Jiu, you'll be good and let Mu-shidi look over Mama without a fuss, right?

Shen Jiu: *hungry, not pleased with being in the arms of a man even if it's his old body, knows Mu-shidi has dealt with worse than screaming children, promptly starts grumbling and fussing*

SQQ: *knowing where this is going and one crying kid is better than both so he's making his way to the door* We're going to be just outside if you need us shidi.

MQF: *back from sending a disciple for milk and a few other things* Certainly, shixiong.

SQH: *exhausted and wants this over with* Not moving Xiao Si unless you want a second screaming child.

MQF: That's fine Shixiong. *Pokes and prods around sleeping baby* So, A-Jiu and Xiao Si?

SQH: *fully aware of the layers to that question* They respond to our given names and nothing else really. But calling someone Xiao Jiu feels weird when "Xiao Jiu" is standing next to me. And I don't know how to feel about someone calling a child who looks like but isn't me "A-Si".

MQF: Understandable. Now, tell me what happened. *Fully aware of he going to have to pull answers out, given that the man is exhausted and an exhausted SQH is a petty petty man*

SQH: *grumbles but starts talking*

{To be continued ~(^-^)~}

[aayakashii]

Biting is definitely one of Taiga’s love languages, and it’s his way of dealing with cuteness aggression. There are a few videos or pictures on his phone that he CANNOT watch on his phone, because it is constantly like he is seeing them for the first time and he falls into such cuteness aggression that he hunts you down and just starts nibbling at you no matter where you are. The more he remembers you, the better he is at keeping his bites gentle (because he actually remembers you asking him to as well as how your sad face made his chest ache for some reason).

The pictures/videos/things that give him the biggest cuteness aggression:

- when he is reminded of the gifts you gave him (IE: the tiger keychain, the notebook idea we shared, etc) and he can see the little handmade details for something made specifically for him

- a picture of you posing like a tiger with the little claw hands and everything, and you drew little ears and whiskers onto the photo and it’s captioned “kitten trying to be like her Taiga”

- you fell asleep trying to clean his gun so you’re just kinda cuddled up to it in the picture with a sleepy pout on your face and his heart can’t handle it

- a video of you rolling your eyes behind Romeo’s back as he lectures you on something, he just finds your aggression and bravery so cute

- there’s a video where you’re just chilling and then turn to spot Taiga behind the camera, and instead of your face falling, it lights up and you just say “Taiga!” Excitedly and Taiga is filled with so much joy because someone wants him around for the first time????

- someone took a video of you calming Taiga down, and your so soft about it, cautious but not scared and you hold his bloody face in jt and just say “oh my precious Taiga”. His heart melts and he doesn’t know what to do with all the love that he can barely identify so he resolves to just hunt you down and feel you beneath his teeth as a sign that you are there and his

👻

GHOST ANON HELLO WELCOME BACK I MISSED YOU ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

AND THESE SCENARIOS ARE SO CUTE PLEASEEKDJFJSKJFNSBCJSJSJ I can imagine Taiga full-on sprinting to find mc when the cuteness aggression hits because he GOTTA bite and the beef jerky he snacks on simply arent as soft as mc 😔 he deserves someone super soft and sweet with him....... I genuinely believe he would melt unders them ;-; (also the protectiveness would go wilddddd)

[scribefindegil]

I want you to know that your use of the word "curse" (to describe a circumstance that makes one's life difficult but that also might seem made-up to some—including, at times, oneself) is so cool and objectively correct, and it has made such a positive impact on my life. I really struggle to categorize my problems as Disability because my Bad Brain Disease (an ot3 of mental illness, chronic migraines, and attention disorders) is invisible and inconsistent; the line between "I can't" and "I won't" is uncertain even to me! However, the fact remains that I often have a hard time doing things other people find easy, for reasons I can't always explain. Sometimes, it might take me 20 years to finish a task, and people may start to wonder if I really want to get back to Ithaca at all, but I do!! The freaking ocean just hates me!!!

The ocean just hates you!!!!

Yeah, the 'curse' framework was especially helpful to me in the days before I had a diagnosis or doctors who would take me seriously and was just like "well clearly SOMETHING is wrong with me but all the tests are normal so. Curse." Disability can be a very fraught concept; it's really easy to get caught up in thought spirals about whether you're 'allowed' to use the word or identify that way (or if you even want to), and also people can be So Weird about it, and it's helped me a lot to have a framework that's just. Separate from that. Maybe it's kind of silly, but it doesn't have any of the baggage that more specific/medical terms do. Also maybe I want to feel like a cool fantasy character!

Glad it's been helpful to you also 💜 So many curses in the world, but we do our best to weather them.

[pleasantspark]

Hello, I am the one who started the Tumblr!HelluvaVerse Critical Self Aware Blog Trend, AMA!

As people wonder why I did them? Well you can shoot an ask and I'll answer for now this is what the Self Aware AU is like.

Everyone BUT Stolas is self aware of how stupid everything is, the reasoning for WHY Stolas is singled out is because why not? We're strictly ANTI-STOLAS here.

All blogs run by the same concept but the people behind the blogs have their own Headcanons and takes on the characters, the only things that remain are based on @mammoncriticizes, @seraphinacriticizes and @pentiouscriticizes sides.

Satan is the true ruler of Hell and has a DAUGHTER named Jezebel.

Infodumps and Loredumps made by all three of the mainblogs will be posted between asks, so it's a blink and you miss type deal.

Why did you make this?

I don't know, wanted to have fun with working together with the Critical Community, by taking inspo by the Instagram!HelluvaVerse but do it with Tumblr a united front that has similarities to most things.

I'd like to thank @moxxiecriticizes for being the first person to join then recruiting @0ctaviacr1tical as well. I was doing this for shits and giggles and it looks like we MIGHT actually pull this off.

I'd like to join where can we start?

Well, goodie! There's a way you can do it!

Just make an account and shoot me an ask! I usually respond to them as fast as I can!

Join the Self Aware AU Community Tumblr and shoot your shot there. (https://www.tumblr.com/join/pnuZQ40)

Or request a character in a google forum which had NOT yet been made.

Also, make sure your name has some variant of critical or criticizes in it! With the characters name and what they are in the bio so we can identify us!

What's the AU about?

Mammon, being the first to break free from this illusion began to realize that 2 + 2 does not indeed equal fish as he questioned around early season one, and realized he was forced to do things that he normally wouldn't do under any circumstances. With the help of online Hellblr he is able to contact people through OUR tumblr space somehow to connect with a wider audience through some means.

With that, there's been an influx of people joining the cause, and with every new critical blog popping up that means more and more characters are currently realizing just how fucked up their world truly is.

Status on Redesigns.

As we stand, we do accept redesigns as we would like to rebrand the characters and we're using this AU to reinvent the new storyline so if you end up drawing the posts we make then we accept it. Reblog it as well.

Blogs In Order of Creation

@mammoncriticizes @seraphinacriticizes @moxxiecriticizes @pentiouscriticizes @0ctaviacr1tical

@fizzcriticizes @bartendinggamblincat

REFER TO THE ABOVE IF YOU HAVE ONE ALREADY. It's recommended you make it a side blog, we might actually have people run the Seraphina and Pentious blogs if people wanna join.

[softness-and-shattering]

I think theres a couple adjacent conversations happening here, at least one about the ADL and one about goyims response to the ADL.

What I want to say is, I understand the idea of appeasement, and its possible thats what the ADL are going for, or perhaps theyre trying to not paint a target on their backs for musk and the president who unfortunately have a lot of power between them (which could be wishful thinking thaflt there isnt already a target there).

Re 'branding musk irredeemable' and his apparent auschwitz tour with ben shapiro, it seems to me that we're past that. He didnt get up and do a big sig heils as "first buddy" (which is a wtf title but the point is he feels incredibly powerful right now), to agree to walk it back. Hes got the power and hes not hiding or pretending, his is loudly declaring allegiance. I think then it stops being the ADLs job to try course correct him, its too late for that, and it is now their job to look at the spade and identify the spade and say "ALERT. THATS A SPADE. ALERT".

By instead calling it 'an awkward gesture' and hoping for UNITY with the guy doing the sig heil, theyre going "lalalala no spade here lalalalala" and as their mission to my understanding is identifying and combating antisemitism, this is a moment of major failure for them. You can work towards unity with all kinds of people with all kinds of differences, but you cant play nice with nazis or fascists, as their targets, and hope they'll change their minds. Maybe sometimes with some people on an individual level but this isnt as individuals this on the international stage. This isnt your brother your aunt your cousin sounding a little faschy and you can help them, this is elon fucking musk as empowered by president trump. Mr blood money billionaire and the president rapist.

It doesnt mean the ADL has never been correct, will never be correct, and are entirely untrustworthy altogether, as AOC seems to be stating, thats also an absurdity. It does mean that for many possible reasons, they have made what looks like a massive misstep. I *hope* they have good reason and I *hope* its part of some larger plan of damage control. I dont know though. Im not sure I believe anyone is playing 4D chess its just comforting to think *someone* has things under control. The ADL mightve just been panicking and I cant entirely fault them for that. We dont always make the best choices when we are afraid.

Guys... the ADL said, and I quote (quoting manually because fuck nazi twitter I'm not embedding it and I can't be arsed to screencap, google for confirmation if you want),

"This is a delicate moment. It’s a new day and yet so many are on edge. Our politics are inflamed, and social media only adds to the anxiety. It seems that

@elonmusk

made an awkward gesture in a moment of enthusiasm, not a Nazi salute, but again, we appreciate that people are on edge. In this moment, all sides should give one another a bit of grace, perhaps even the benefit of the doubt, and take a breath. This is a new beginning. Let’s hope for healing and work toward unity in the months and years ahead."

Bull. Fucking. Shit. That was a nazi salute, done to the crowd and then a second time to the flag. By a guy who's said a lot of antisemitic shit and sympathized with/endorsed nazis up to and including AfD in Germany.

The Usual Suspects are eating this up and talking about how this proves people talking about "antisemitism" are just trying to defend Israeli war crimes and don't care about Diaspora Jews.

You've seen the stuff I reblog; we're in a "broken clock sorta right twice a day" situation. While I disgree with them strongly on a lot of things (far more than I did sixteen months ago), I think they're right about one thing here.

We can't trust the ADL anymore. If they refuse to acknowledge Musk's fucking sieg heil, we cannot rely on them to reliably fight antisemitism anymore.

I understand why they may feel the need to make compromises to have continued access to the halls of power and avoid being institutionally attacked... but while those compromises may protect them it leaves those they exist to protect high and dry.

Stay safe everyone.

[squish--squash]

on the topic of this post I made I also wanna talk about how nii satoru utilizes giving us, the readers, characters' backgrounds as a whole.

So far the characters we've seen flashbacks of/gotten backstories of have been Umemiya, Choji and Togame, Tsubaki, Hiragi and Sako and Kaji, Endo and Takishii, suzuri, and Sugishita (give or take a few more characters).

This might seem like a lot of characters, but the thing is, we're always given these flashbacks and backstories because we need them, or because they parallel to Sakura in one way or another.

Us getting Umemiya's backstory gives us a very big opening into learning WHY he is the way he is and why he does everything the way he does. It reveals to us why he focuses so much on eating with people and gardening, when it wasn't something we might've been wondering in the first place. As such a monumental guide and positive role model for Sakura, learning about Umemiya's past and how those key moments have effected him today allows us to realize just how much growing up Sakura still needs; while Umemiya's seemed to have completed his own journey in a way, Sakura is still leaps and bounds away from completing his own.

Choji and Togame and their history together with Shishitoren gives us more perspectives. With Togame, it gives us reasoning behind why he'd been choosing to act the way he'd been when we first met him, and creates depth by having us learn that he's not just some crazy evil guy who wants to stomp on people just for fun, he's been in agony for years. With Choji, it gives us another perspective on what it might look like for someone to find their way to the top with no further purpose, which is what Sakura's original goal was. He didn't want to be at the top so he could be a leader, he wanted at the top to prove himself and nothing more. With no further goal in mind, he could easily fall into a similar path as what Choji was walking down before the duel with Umemiya.

Tsubaki gives us hindsight and details on his own past and why he's so loyal to Furin and Umemiya, and why he is the way he is, which is important due to the themes surrounding his character involving self-acceptance and identifying with something outside of the norm. Both of those things are important to Sakura, with his unique looks and his overarching story revolving around the acceptance of others and himself. It was a backstory he, as well as us, needed to hear.

Suzuri's story rings similar to Sakura: both had upbrings that scarred them and let them down (as it's implied a LOT that Sakura's own past hasn't been nice to him in the slightest, and has given him below the bare minimum), but while Sakura ultimately chose to join Makochi, and later Furin, Suzuri did not have that grace of choice and instead could only choose what he could, which was leading his own gang through desperate measures. Like Choji, Suzuri's story can be real as a possible parallel to what Sakura could have been, but it also shows as a way to humanize Suzuri, who up until that point we saw as nothing but a mindless enemy.

Kaji's backstory and his mentorship to Sakura is important to us too, because we learn how far Kaji has come himself with the guidance of Hiragi that he uses to then help guide Sakura. It establishes a connection and bond between more of the Wind Breaker characters that makes them feel more fleshed-out and three-dimensional, and gives more depth to the world they live in.

etc etc... I'd add more but this post is getting too long. The point is, we're getting the backstories to our supporting cast and enemies because they build an increased depth to the overall story or increase our perspectives on characters that would otherwise remain flat or just simple. And we only get it when it matters, such as keep moments in the middle of an arc, or at the beginning to help. nii satoru isn't just throwing out information to us all willy-nilly, there's thought and care behind all of this.

This all comes to a head with the question, "why haven't we gotten a certain someone's backstory yet?" and that answer is very, sweetly simple. Because we don't need it. Because Wind Breaker is about him. We're getting backstories of other characters because Wind Breaker ISN'T ABOUT THEM, not as its core. We need backstories from other characters as a way to learn about them and their reasonings/motivations so we have complex and well-rounded characters, but without them needing a novel each, so we get stories that they relay or flashbacks to give us that information without taking a hit to the flow of the plot.

Plus, the series is ongoing. Who's to say we won't get an arc down the line that'll reveal a certain someone's backstory in a very important, key moment that'll make the entire wait worth it?

[velvetvexations]

Read that one weird ass “miquella can’t be transmasc cuz it’s analytically weaker” post and i can’t help but wonder- Why is the interpretation that St Trina represents “everything feminine in Miquella” when she’s Miquella’s love, compassion and *doubts*. Is “feminity” really just those three things to people??? Why is him rejecting this alright if he’s transfem but oh no, bad!!! If he’s transmasc?

The idea is that it's transfem Miquella is a story of denial and giving himself away to follow a doomed path, but if it's flipped around so that abandoning St. Trina is metaphorically him leaving behind girlhood to become a man, then transition is being portrayed as a bad thing, since abandoning St. Trina was A Bad Thing.

The issue with this reading is that Miquella was right about everything, so it's the exact opposite, actually. If Miquella was transfem and needed to give up his womanhood to make the world less of a miserable grimdark hell, he should have detransitioned sooner.

That aside...isn't it annoying that with both this and Dipper, they've started doing this weird, condescending thing where they're trying to explain to the dumb boys why their headcanons are bad for them?

"transmasc Miquella would mean it's saying transitioning is bad"

"if Dipper is transmasc Mabel is literally a TERF"

It's some real doublethink bullshit, like nooooo you can't play with your toys like that, you'll hurt yourself. Here, have this Nazi, we don't want hi - I mean, we checked to make sure he has no transphobic implications so he's safe for you dumb little gir - boys to identify with. Now excuse me, I need to explain why a meme webcomic is high art to justify the fact that I exclusively like things that were popular with children ten years ago.

[mumms-the-word]

sigh okay lemme say this again in shorter words so that I can make myself clear to the anons who keep misinterpreting my words

I think using AI to write fics is gross (and uninspired, like babes I promise the ideas in your heads are so much cooler)

I also think accusing people of using AI based on writing style is gross (em dashes? purple prose? repetition? some of us just write like that without any AI)

I also think that even if you do find “solid evidence” of AI use in a fic, like uploading huge amounts of text very quickly, you shouldn’t start a witch hunt to drive that person off the internet

Why? Because maybe you can inspire a new writer to turn off the AI and write for themselves if you would just talk to them, keep the conversation open, and encourage them to write what’s in their heads without fear of getting the words and grammar and structure all wrong

And if you’re wrong about the AI use? Because trust me, no one is 100% correct at identifying AI? Then we’ve wrongfully accused and silenced another writer who could be making our fandom spaces beautiful

We all have to start somewhere. Using AI isn’t an unforgivable sin. Just talk to people, rather than grabbing your pitchforks and torches

Hope this helps. I can clarify more if you want to start that conversation with me

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

Man, for someone who keeps invoking media literacy, you sure seem to be struggling with accurately addressing the points that I've been making.

1) He is good at lying to people about who he is, all while being able to make himself likable 2) He is secretly unhappy and has been thinking about the day with the Lion Cub a lot

Here's part of where I think we fundamentally disagree: I don't think he's much of a liar tbh. He doesn't care enough to lie. If anything, he seems almost incapable of it at times. He has coping mechanisms — namely: telling himself (and others) that even though life is pointless, that's actually awesome because you can do whatever you want and not have to worry about anything — and one could, I suppose, argue that he's lying to himself in that sense? But he does clearly WANT to believe it, and acts accordingly. True, Elphaba sees discontent within him and assumes he must be hiding some inner depth (because how can he possibly be unhappy if he's empty inside?? selfish and shallow people don't feel bad about stuff or help others!), but I think his later actions actually show how shallowness can sometimes have its own kind of depth, and selfishness can have its own kind of beneficence. I'm aware this isn't intuitive or prima facie stuff — that's why I posted an analysis about it.

I think it’s a much more plausible headcanon that he has always been working as a double agent than your headcanon that he’s decided instead to randomly embrace being a fascist.

Honey, here's the thing: contrary to what you suggest, mine is not a headcanon in this case. At all. He became a fascist soldier. All ulterior motives (speculative or not) aside: that is simply what he did. It's text. I never said he "embraced" it in the sense that he liked it. It's directly stated that he doesn't like his situation. But that didn't stop him from quite literally choosing to be in that situation. Sucking up whatever other feelings he has and doing it anyway.

Maybe it’s hard to “reconcile the compassionate boy we saw in the woods with a fascist commander” because he isn’t one?

Except he literally is. That is what he became. Your insistence that he worked his way through the ranks of a fascist military without ever doing any of the actions that make someone fascist is beyond belief. Like obviously I understand that your contention here is that he didn't "become" a fascist on an ideological level. He just went through the motions without internalizing or identifying with the fascists' ideas. But I'm afraid plenty of German (or hell, Confederate) soldiers were "just fighting for their loved ones" and "didn't actually believe in all that stuff": but they fought anyway. And they fought on the wrong side, and did the things that came to define what we think of when we talk about their regimes. You are doing exercises in idealization. Becoming a fascist is as much (or more) about physically carrying out the acts of fascism as it is about adhering to what it proposes. Rejecting the latter does not erase the former.

Maybe if you “read by sheer text; on the actions and statements on the page” you’d realise that his actions in act one don’t make sense in act two if you read him as part of the regime?

He. Is. Part. Of. The. Regime. You don't get to say he was somehow set apart on some abstract level from the force that he commanded. Good Lord.

My point about the challenge of reconciling Fiyero between Act I and Act II was not "wow, this doesn't make sense, he must have changed so drastically!!!" I literally explained my point. He hardly changed at all — and that's interesting. The ways in which he did change are equally interesting — because they aren't positive, contrary to what one may usually expect from a character arc of a male lead in a fantasy story. In most such stories the male lead confronts his flaws and he either overcomes them or makes peace with them. Fiyero does neither — which is completely in character and honestly a perfect and natural evolution from where he began — and from a writing perspective I absolutely love it, lol

Oh sorry, Fiyero should have just gone down to the resistance job shop and got a top post there!

I know this is tongue-in-cheek, but the fact your unironic insinuation underneath it appears to be that... *checks notes* rebellions do not have job openings for charismatic men of action...??? Where were you going with this??? lol

The resistance that, as far as we know, basically doesn’t exist, as it doesn’t seem like Elphaba has got much help either (we know there’s rebel Animals that shelter her, but she’s also at the point where she tries to beg her father for help and seriously considers just giving up and joining the Wizard).

Hon... has it occurred to you that by the time we get to Act II... the rebels are fringe and weak because they've been repressed for years by the forces Fiyero volunteered in? Like, we are TOLD that there are rebels. That's a fact. We know that one of the primary activities of the Gale Force is violent repression against Animals. Come on. You're good at extrapolation. Put two and two together here.

But in all seriousness: no movement? Start one then. If it's really that deep. Sounds like a skill issue to me.

Someone has to do this job, if it’s not Fiyero it’s someone a lot worse. We know Fiyero has compassion for Animals, we know Fiyero wants to protect Elphaba (we literally see him doing so three times in act 2). If Fiyero places himself in command, however grim it might be, he now has some degree of control over Oz’s army and how much damage they can do to the Animals and Elphaba.

The damage has been done though. On his watch. To some extent on his ORDERS even. The Animals are all but erased from Oz. Elphaba is so deep in hiding that Fiyero, with all the resources at his command, hunting her desperately, still turns up nothing every time. "Someone has to do this job", when the job is fascism, is not a defense. In fact, "I was just doing my job" is a very well-known and infamously horrible non-defense particular to this exact context. It'd be a better overall argument if him being captain instead of someone else had actually made some objective difference to the end results, but we don't see that. Like I guess you could really stretch things and credit Fiyero for there still being a small holdout of rebel Animals around at all?? Like maybe if he hadn't been there, they'd have been dealt with a bit more aggressively or something? But that seems like a pretty meager end to try and justify his means.

It wasn’t planned that he’d meet her in the throne room, no, but it certainly was planned, by putting himself as the head of the search for the Witch, that if she was found in a dangerous situation he could get her out of it. He manages to get all his guards away and for her to escape safely, he couldn’t have done this if he’d been in any other position.

And he couldn't have achieved anything comparable in ANY other way besides doing fascism? Really?

Imagine, if you will, an alternate scenario: Fiyero doesn't join the Gale Force, and instead joins with the rebellion. Elphaba finds him. They're working together to save Animals again, like old times. They do stuff together and they have each other's backs if either one is caught in a tough spot. Fiyero never gets engaged to Glinda. Is that not a MUCH less convoluted, far more sensible plan? The fact that all explanations for why Fiyero chose anything OTHER than that seem to boil down to weird borderline fascist apologia, is how I know my points are valid.

you told me him being in the Gale Force achieved nothing, it saved Elphaba’s life and allowed the ending to happen.

The logic here is just... Okay. Hon. If he. Had chosen. Something else. The sequence. Of events. Would be. Radically different. And Elphaba. Would not. Have been. In the. Situation that. You give. Him credit. For saving. Her from. At all.

If you joined the Mafia "to protect your family", and then your cousin follows you into a meeting one day and almost gets shot, but you stepped in and stopped it, that doesn't somehow mean things went according to your plan; you only "protected" them from a scenario they would never otherwise have been in had it not been for you, lol

Even her sad verse in Thank Goodness imply she joined because she wanted it (and only later found out it wasn’t quite how she planned).

And y'know a very particular way it wasn't like how she'd planned? She didn't plan on getting it as part of her abuse. Being showered with nice things is a well-known abuse tactic, because it's enticing and allows the abuser to insinuate that their victim was consenting and enthusiastic about what happened to them. There's more to it, absolutely — Glinda is perhaps the most complicated character in the show — but the fact you insist on victim-blaming over and over is... wow.

No one was going to imprison her,

The guards physically detained her and Elphaba had to break the laws of fucking physics to get them to let go, wtf are you talking about, lmfao

there’s literally no reason at all to enslave her,

Except that she's the closest person in the world to their new Public Enemy #1, and can be leveraged in about a million different ways in their favor. Glinda has intel. Elphaba might have been tempted to try and come back and get her. She's a perfect bargaining chip in case Elphaba got too aggressive too: the Witch might back off if Glinda's life were threatened. And, as the Wizard quickly discovers: Glinda is really likable and sociable and boosts morale wherever she goes. So they made her theirs, and dulled her pain by trying to appease and cater to her in every superficial way available. This is Abuse 101, hon.

But ok, let’s take your “enslavement” fantasy scenario. Fiyero is literally the next candidate for Morrible to “enslave”, she knows he and Elphaba were at least tentative friends, she might even have realised he was also absent after the day with the Lion Cub, he’s dating Glinda and his royal connections and fame and likeability make him a useful asset. If Morrible really is blackmailing people to join her on trumped up charges, it would be very easy for her to either use the Lion Cub situation to blackmail into it, or threaten to hurt Glinda if he does not.

"Fantasy"... jfc dude, lol

Fiyero wasn't literally in the palace in the clutches of the guards as a perceived accomplice to the Witch at the end of Act I. The situations are apples and oranges.

Tbh as far as we know, Fiyero didn't really know a ton about Elphaba to begin with; certainly no specific useful intel. There's no reason to think Morrible ever put two and two together vis-à-vis the cub — a slacker student like Fiyero being absent from class isn't weird. And even if for some reason she did get suspicious enough to press the matter, there's so little she'd have to go off of that he could literally just say he ducked out when the whole class started spasming, and that's pretty much that. And yeah sure he's "dating" Glinda, and may under the right circumstances be manipulable if she got threatened: but let's not forget this is also the dude who abandoned her the very first chance he got, and then pointed a gun at her as a bluff without a second thought. He doesn't care enough about Glinda for that to be really leverageable, and it's not like Morrible wouldn't know that: his unenthusiastic response at their engagement announcement would tell her, if nothing else had by that point.

But then... Fiyero didn't ever need to be coerced to become what he became. He volunteered. Glinda was caught in the attic and knew a certain regime-delegitimizing, worldview-shattering secret — I fail to see how there is any scenario you can seriously propose in which the Wizard letting her go with that knowledge, with her closeness to Elphaba, etc., could even be halfway tenable from the Wizard's perspective. It actually defies belief that you can misread her situation as badly as you are.

This is headcanon.

Nah. He literally sang two separates songs about it. Dancing Through Life's whole thing is "nihilism rocks because you can just do stuff and never worry about it", and his part in So Long As You're Mine has him going "I don't care about anything except acting on our desires in this fleeting moment". I don't need to headcanon anything to simply point out that those sentiments are neither deep nor considerate (and, as I have said: don't have to be), lol

This is canon: he pointed a gun at the Wizard to help Elphaba escape. He had to escape too.

He spent years specifically trying to find her, with the heavily implied desire to run away with her. And what did he do the second he saw her? Ran away with her. Say she hadn't been in danger: say she was either undiscovered, or was reconciled with the Wizard. Do you think — based on your own version of him, double agent headcanon and all — that he would have been content NOT to leave there with her then? That after years of searching, he would just let her fly out of there and leave him behind again? Did we watch the same show?? At this point your take on him is even more reactive and thoughtless than mine, if you think his character would allow him to not only deny his passion for her but also to stay in a situation he regards as meaningless and insufferable. As I said to begin with: he can be protective of her AND do so shallowly and selfishly. Reread my original post if you need a refresher on what makes his attachment to her shallow and selfish; and friendly reminder that my saying these things is not a diss, I'm a fan of Genuinely Self-Absorbed, Deeply Shallow Fiyero.

��He doesn't think about the potential consequences of abandoning Glinda; for never cared about either his own safety or hers,” I’m sorry, are you really blaming Glinda telling Morrible and the Wizard to spread a rumour about hurting Nessa on Fiyero? Talk about fucking victim blaming.

Genuinely baffled as to your thought process here — I never said one word about what you're referring to, I was literally just pointing out that Fiyero didn't remotely consider that his fiancée could potentially catch some flak for his unexpected treason, or that leaving her totally alone with her abusers could worsen her situation (as we actually do see by the time of March of the Witch Hunters, where Morrible is far more directly and openly cruel to her than she was when Fiyero was there). This should be familiar to anyone who's seen abusers behave differently when other people are around, but flip a switch as soon as they have their victim all to themselves.

Not the Elphaba faking her own death plan! That must have taken days as the scarecrow. And careful manoeuvring of everything involved!

Cute, but you do realize you're agreeing with my point, right? Unless you're NOT being sarcastic, in which case... Okay. Fiyero did not plan the Melting. We aren't told how far in advance Elphaba planned the Melting, or what degree of input Fiyero had in it (hard to coordinate beforehand considering she was in a whole different part of Oz than he was, he was with Dorothy at the time, and, y'know... she only just learned that the Scarecrow was him MOMENTS before the Melting) but the pieces were all there and so simple that he could intuitively figure out basically what she was trying to pull off. Secret passage. Fire. Water. Rumor. Literally all he had to do was play along with the stage she'd set. It doesn't exactly take a Doctor of Thinkology.

Well I have happy news for you! He no longer has a hollow existence! That’s literally what act two is trying to tell us! Elphaba: Fiyero, you frightened me. I thought, I though you might have changed. Fiyero: I have... changed. * You’ve got me seeing through different eyes Somehow I’ve fallen under your spell and somehow I’m feeling it’s up that I fell

I hate to burst you bubble... but he hasn't changed for the better. I already said that. He still has a hollow existence — he tells us just how hollow it is in Thank Goodness — he just looks to Elphie as his one and only solace. I've elaborated on some of the layers behind it, but basically I argue that he chose Elphaba as his object of desire precisely because that is what she represents to him, in its purest form. Desire. She's "the one that got away"; the one he can't find; can't reach. The only thing in his meaningless life that's unavailable — and therefore tantalizing. She's the only one who doesn't swoon over him or get caught up in his carefree dissociative escapism. She's the one with a sexual tension so palpable but so frustratingly unresolved (until As Long As You're Mine ofc). She's the only challenge in his life that isn't an ineffable internal conflict between his id and superego: and in fact soothes that conflict because she stimulates them both.

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 MEDICINE POCKET - General Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons and analysis on Medicine Pocket as a character and other related things.

started going thru my askbox, saw there's an insane amount of medpoc prompts, and then realized I haven't thought that deeply about this feral dog so here we are!

I missed doing analysis like this oooo the feeling of neurons making connections as I go thru the character's entire page oooo. since I still don't have them, screenshots and examples will be taken directly from the fandom wikia as usual!

On the subject of intersex identities, Medicine Pocket's mother and their gender identity.

It's worth noting that as of the time writing this (with GL currently in 2.2 and CN having just released 2.5) the game still has only two characters who have been confirmed to live outside of the gender binary, both released during launch; The Fool, who uses male pronouns but states that he has no gender, and Medicine Pocket, who couldn't care less about pronouns and explicitly mentions being intersex in one of their voicelines.

The game is consistent with this, as Medicine Pocket is often referred to with "they/them" pronouns, and occasionally "he/him," such as a daily tidbit from November 18th 2024.

As far as I know, they've yet to refer to Medicine Pocket with female pronouns.

While Medicine Pocket seems to approach the subject of gender identity as an afterthought at best and a nuisance at worst, never stating which labels they identify with, it's important to note that they're still openly queer. Upon a first reading, I didn't think much of them, but now I realize that a big chunk of their character does focus on their queerness in ways that are just as unconventional as they are.

Their 01 Story allows us to learn about Medicine Pocket's background, namely their mother, as it focuses on her for the most part. This is also the second instance of Medicine Pocket's status as an intersex person being brought up.

While I'm not intersex myself, I'm a nonbinary queer person who is fully aware of the many, many convoluted and cruel ways society has enforced in order to "correct" and assimilate us into the norm, such as conversion therapy and intersex surgeries, all done with the pretense of "helping us adapt." Medicine Pocket seems to be an example of this.

One may interpret this as a misguided but well-meaning attempt from a concerned mother, but I interpret it as a heartless moment of dehumanization.

In this Story, there is a very clear parallel being drawn between the dogs at the kennel she owns and her own child, between money as her only source of happiness and the necessity to pay for her child's operation.

Her entire world and business revolves around the kennel, it's stated to be a family business with good reputation, and the dogs are described as a positive thing--"man's best friend," and friends who can keep you company--but her reaction to both is of indifference and, at worst, contempt.

The priority here isn't the thriving family business, nor the dogs she's selling to the University of Utah, nor what will come out of the experiments they will go through; the priority is the money.

And what is this money for? Her own child's operation, with the specific intent of helping them become "an ordinary person." Not for their health, not because they asked for this--because she wants them to be normal, thus highlighting the themes of assimilation within society.

As seen before, Medicine Pocket confirms they lack any reproductive organs. I don't know enough to speculate or research what sort of medical condition they have, but the fact that they say "I just don't have any reproductive organs" could imply they did not receive that operation in the end. After all, becoming "ordinary" would imply living within the binary of female or male genitals exclusively.

With the lack of information about their childhood, I personally like to headcanon that this is when the parallels between Medicine Pocket and dogs continues from their mother's perspective; maybe the cons outdo the pros, maybe the procedure was too expensive, maybe she didn't feel like nurturing this specific puppy anymore, regardless of the reasoning, Medicine Pocket's mother simply chose to give them away to someone else who had a use for them. Exactly like the previous batch of puppies.

As agile as usual, her child got into the white van without looking back. That van had taken away countless almost-weaned puppies from their mothers, and on this day, it was doing the same thing to her.

Another personal headcanon I have following that one is that Medicine Pocket was given away for experimentation purposes given their uniqueness--an intersex arcanist child. It certainly lines up with other darker themes within the game, such as the treatment orphaned arcanist children receive within SPDM, the ableism and bigoted mindsets towards arcanists that parallel real issues in real life, and the appropriation of arcanist culture into human society, etc etc.

Of course, in retrospect, there is also something bittersweet in the way that the only thing Medicine Pocket seems to have inherited from their mother is the aspect of money, as a big part of their character is based around finding ways to receive funding for their experiments. Money is the focus of their Insight voiceline, their First Encounter voiceline also involves finding new investors, and there is a distinct focus on how much Medicine Pocket's actions COST Laplace overall, even in the Main Story. Their Story 02 is literally named "The Wrecker of Laplace" and involves their expenses report. This is a very small detail and connection, but I found it quite interesting!

The last thing I want to bring up for this specific bullet point is how Medicine Pocket grew up to be exactly everything their mother did not care about.

The opposite of an ordinary person; they are considered an unconventional albeit irritating genius within Laplace, as seen in their Storyboard.

They are a noisy dog who went out and pioneered an abundance of inventions and research, such as the development of Picrasma Candy shown above, their study of arcanist bloodlines and an arcanist's arcanum that later helps Enigma during Chapter 7 "Vereinsamt," and more. They are a team leader and a renowned, published biological researcher, as seen in the LSCC trailer and another voiceline of theirs.

It is a testament to Medicine Pocket's determination, stubbornness and self-centered personality, the way they were able to thrive in life and in every aspect that their mother did not care about nor support. And this aspect relates heavily to their Beast Afflatus and animalistic themes!

On the subject of Medicine Pocket's self-experimentation, animals and Laplace

We already discussed the way Medicine Pocket has been compared to the kennel dogs sold for experimentation, but we only explored this from their mother's perspective. On a general level, we can understand that Medicine Pocket's animalistic and dog-like behaviour exists because they were raised alongside these very same dogs, and their affinity for Beagles is a direct reference to the "Beagle Club" radiation experiments--it's a very clear motif within their character, but I would still like to expand on it a little!

First of all, we need to talk about Laplace, its ethics and practices. So bear with me!

Over the course of the recent patches, we have seen certain members of Laplace being shown together for most promotional material; this is later on confirmed within 37's Anecdote as a "friend group" consisting of 37, Mesmer Jr, X, Medicine Pocket and Ezra. For this discussion, we are going to set aside 37, an outsider to Laplace, and Ezra, a human character.

Both X and Medicine Pocket both have animals commonly used for experimentation as their Udimos; X has a Laboratory mouse, and Medicine Pocket has a Beagle puppy. On the other hand, we have Mesmer Jr. whose Udimo is not an animal, but a representation of the Artificial Somnambulism Therapy machine. With this, we can trace a pattern within the arcanists of Laplace, which paints them as not only expendable resources, but as something a little more tragic considering their respective themes--X, who harbors a deep-seated hatred for authorities that abuse their power (as seen in his own Anecdote), Medicine Pocket, who is based on the "Beagle Club" radiation experiments, and Mesmer Jr., who carries internalized bigotry for her own kind and is treated as nothing but an extension of her family's legacy.

While I won't be discussing the broad history of animal rights and ethics in experiments from real life, there are lines to be connected between these specific themes and the dehumanization of these characters--which also extends to the rest of members of Laplace like Lucy and Ulrich, by virtue of being Awakened and not being able to comply within the expected "norm" of humans, nor arcanists (the main theme of "Vereinsamt"). As players, we understand Enigma's reaction to Lucy being demoted, and there is a nuanced conversation to be had about the consequences of Lucy's orders even if they led to a great outcome; it is both tragic and inspiring.

But we must also understand this: Lucy's actions are still objectively within the scope of the Foundation's own history and ethics as I've mentioned them before, she is merely being used as a scapegoat due to the visibility of these casualties, which causes the Foundation to lose face.

And how does this relate exactly to Medicine Pocket?

Because their work ethic of self-experimentation follows this very same pattern. In the trail "Experiment Record" from Chapter 6 "E Lucevan le Stelle" Stage 19, which details the process of making Picrasma Candy safe for consumption, the extra addendums indicate that the one consuming all this candy during the experiments is none other than Medicine Pocket.

Their self-experimentation is only considered an issue and a nuisance because they are loud, reckless and take up space and resources. Because this is a coworker who canonically runs on all fours when excited, bites furniture and chases after frisbees, exactly like a dog.

Out of the three characters discussed before, only two are able to subvert the expectations of their respective Udimos: X and Medicine Pocket. The former by putting on an innocent and obedient act while doing whatever he wants behind the scenes, and the latter by being so shamelessly disobedient and self-serving that it is near impossible to stop them.

After a quick and surface look into why beagles were used for the experiments, some articles mention their docile and compliant nature, the total opposite of Medicine Pocket's personality. The subversion is clear there. Rather than being someone else's guinea pig, Medicine Pocket happily uses their own body as their main playground to test their experiments and research; look at their third item, "Beagle 0-1 Fluid Analysis Apparatus," which quite literally turns their own blood as a weapon, aside from monitoring their vitals. They have voicelines urging Vertin to give them a full dose despite the potential dangers, or noting the effects of another self-inflicted experiment--both their "Sleeves and Hands" and "Clothing and Torso" voicelines respectively.

Rather than assimilating within "proper" lab etiquette and polite society, Medicine Pocket is shamelessly themself above all, doing the things they want to do whenever they want to. There are many ways to read their character; perhaps, because their mother took away their bodily agency, they can now reclaim power over their identity by being as chaotic as a feral puppy or by using their body for self-experimentation. Perhaps they have a special connection with dogs because of the way they were raised and thus actively chose to act like one, since they felt more like family than their own mother, etc etc.

This aspect of reclaiming power over their own body and identity, alongside the way others openly disapprove of them for various different reasons, can be seen within the Beast Afflatus--which focuses on the focus of the individual, one's survival and struggle against traditions or systems that aim to contain them, the power and freedom to choose and carve a way for oneself. It's the struggle of one person against the majority. All of these things can be seen in Medicine Pocket!

Round of extra headcanons I didn't have the energy to fit anywhere else

I like to think Medicine Pocket's hair is white (simply because their eyebrows also seem to be white in art) so the brown parts are dyed specifically to look more like a beagle.

Alongside being intersex and nonbinary, they also couldn't care less about conventional romantic relationships--while uninterested in sexual relationships overall, I can see them having meaningless one-night stands for research specifically. They're shameless and very open about it. The only type of serious commitment I can see them having are QRPs, but their partners get bullied even harder by them so no one is sure if this is a good thing or not.

Medicine Pocket has one voiceline which states that they do even more fucked up experiments in the suitcase; I like to think they're the equivalent of the ThoughtEmporium over on Youtube, doing things like getting rid of their own lactose intolerance, creating meat grapes and such.

They just happen to be allergic to most things that dogs are allergic to. In the same vein, they bark but it sounds nowhere close like a proper dog's bark and everyone thinks its sort of cringe, but saying this out loud within their vicinity will only earn you One Huge Fucking Chomp from them.

Unlike Pavia, who does not quite keep track of the names of the wolfpack, Medicine Pocket can tell apart every single dog they meet, no matter how identical or how long it's been since they last saw them. They have a lot of knowledge on how to care for animals from their childhood, and often bring back all sorts of dogs; from rescues to literally stealing someone else's dog just be cause they thought its owner was being a shithead. It's usually a problem, because they often just sneak them into their office without telling anyone and suddenly it's Barbie's Great Puppy Chase Adventure in Laplace.

I also like to think that the dogs they're not allowed to truly keep are given away to people Medicine Pocket personally checks and makes sure will be a good fit for the dog.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Relapse

hello! hope you're doing ok I have a request that's dealing with some sensitive topics, please don't feel pressured to write this! Warning for self harm I've been in a not the best mental space recently and was wondering if you could write smth where one of the sides has a sh relapse for an extended period of time and is hiding it, then gets discovered (and probably has a panic attack about it). my preference is Logan but I'd be happy with any of them!! – anon

Could you write a Roman angst + hurt/comfort sickfic. You can pick whatever sickness you want to give Roman. He tries to hide his illness from the others but they find out and help nurse him back to health. – monkeythefander

just saying.... if you wanted to write some not-romantic-not-platonic-what-are-you-a-cop? analogical h/c....... especially if they both- oh wait. I was trying to keep this vague but actually I just remembered from one of the earlier episodes Virgil said "I'm a problem identifier, not a problem solver" and Logan made a face like he wanted to disagree. maybe Logan is struggling and Virgil helps him and then later Virgil says something to that effect and Logan starts pointing out all the ways that isn't true? – anon

I was thinking about Logan angst and how maybe some of it isn’t about him thinking that he’s emotionless, but he’s just really reserved, and then the others make assumptions about what emotions he Must Be Feeling. And when he tries to explain himself, they don’t listen because they think he’s just denying that he has emotions, not that he’s denying having the specific emotions that they assume he has. – anon

Hi, I absolutely love your Sanders sides fics and I was wondering if you would write roman angst where the other sides realize that he is nearly always performing when he’s around them (kinda like your fic productivity). Like they thought Roman was kinda irresponsible/ careless and then they find out that when he’s not around them he’s working himself to the bone to prepare for the 0.5% and when he is with them he’s still not relaxing - even when they’re just like having dinner or something - because that’s when he has to perform. No pressure to write anything if you’re not up for it; you write Roman angst like no one else – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-harm

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3529

Relapse: deteriorate after a period of improvement. Relapse: return to a less active or worse state. *** There are good times, there are bad times.

Virgil gets summoned when the other Sides are afraid. Somehow, Logan had forgotten this crucial thing.

Stupid, stupid—

"Hey, no, none of that, bud," comes Virgil's voice, low and soothing as he crouches next to Logan on the cold bathroom floor, covered in water and blood and sodden toilet paper and— "Hey. Stay with me, Logan."

Logan blinks. He looks up. Virgil's face is blurred. He blinks again. Something warm touches his face, brushing tenderly along his cheek—hand, his brain supplies, that's Virgil's hand on his face. He blinks again. "V-Virgil?"

"Hey, there he is. You with me?"

"I think so."

"Okay, that's good. That's really good, Logan, okay? I want you to try and stay with me while we get you all cleaned up. Can we do that?"

Cleaned up. Right. That's why he'd come into the bathroom. That's the rule. He only ever does it in the bathroom because that's where it's the easiest to clean.

Oh, God—

"Logan." Virgil's voice is a little firmer now. "Stay with me, remember?"

"I'm here." He shakes his head slightly. "I'm here."

"Okay. I'm gonna stand up to get you some water. I'm not gonna leave, I'm gonna use the cup you keep in your medicine cabinet for this reason, okay?" Logan nods. "Okay. While I do that, I need you to count backwards from twenty. Ready?"

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…" As he counts, Virgil stands up. He hears the click of the cabinet opening and the sink running. "Five, four, three, two, one."

"Good job, bud. Here, drink that, okay? Try and drink all of it if you can."

"It's so much."

"One sip at a time, yeah?" There's a hand on his shoulder and another on the hand holding the cup. "C'mon, just try and get some of it down. For me?"

He can try. For Virgil, he can try. He lifts the cup with Virgil's help. The cool water soothes his throat—he was crying, he was hyperventilating, the rush and sting of it dulled everything to a background roar, why can't he just live there instead—and he swallows once, twice, three times. Soon he lifts the cup back to his lips and discovers it's empty.

"Good job, Logan, you did great. Do you want some more?"

He shakes his head. Virgil nods and takes the cup gently from his hands, settling it on top of the counter and taking Logan's hand in his. He rubs his thumb over Logan's trembling knuckles and gives his fingers a squeeze.

"I need to clean you up, buddy. Do you want to stay in here while I do that?"

"Bathrooms are easy to clean," he mumbles by rote, and Virgil only hesitates for a moment before there's another squeeze.

"Yeah, I know, but you're not a bathroom. You're Logan. And if Logan needs to be all comfy on his bed while I clean up, then that's what we'll do."

Bed…his bed sounds very nice right about now. His body tingles with the macabre satisfaction of being exhausted and lying down would help, wouldn't it? He tries to stand but a fresh sting of pain ripples up his legs and he collapses back to the wet tile.

"Hey, let me help you, c'mere, come put your arms around me…" Virgil hefts him off the floor like he weighs nothing, carrying him through to his bedroom and settling him on the edge of the bed. "There. I'm gonna go get the stuff from the bathroom, okay? You'll see me the whole time, you'll watch me go over there and you'll watch me come back."

"You won't leave?"

Virgil's gaze softens ever so slightly. "I'm not gonna leave, L. Do you want to count again? Would that help?"

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…"

By the time he gets to one, Virgil's got the first-aid kit laid out on the bed next to him, a towel folded up next to it, and another cup of water on his nightstand. He lets Logan wind nervous fingers into his hoodie, holding him close. He reaches up and lightly ruffles Logan's damp hair, smiling in the way where the corners of his eyes crinkle up.

"Hey, bud. You got me, see? I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna start cleaning up now, yeah? You wanna close your eyes for me?"

Logan's grip tightens. Virgil covers his hand with his.

"You got me, see? I'm right here. You can close your eyes, L, it's okay."

"If I close my e-eyes I'll just feel it. I can't—" his breath hitches— "I can't just feel it."

"Okay. Do you…do you want to see what I'm doing?" Logan shakes his head. "Okay. Do you want to talk while I'm doing this?"

"What would I talk about?"

"Well, I do wanna know what happened, but—but," he says softly when Logan barely stifles a whimper, "that doesn't have to be right now. Why don't you talk to me about something that isn't work related? Have you been watching something interesting?"

"There's—" he swallows— "there's this video game that Roman and I have been talking about."

"Oh, yeah? What's it called?"

"Superliminal."

"That sounds cool as hell. What's it about?"

"The premise is that you're going to this hospital for something called 'dream therapy,' meant to help you relieve—relieve stress," he mumbles, breath hitching again when Virgil tears open an antiseptic wipe, "and the game is you going through the stages of the therapy."

"Huh. That's a cool idea for a video game. What, uh, what's the story like when you're actually playing it?"

"The core mechanic is—" he hisses at the sting and Virgil blows a stream of cold air over it— "that you can change the world around you by picking up objects and that will alter their relative size based on your perception of them."

"Whoa. How the hell did they program that?"

"I have no—no idea."

"What sort of objects?"

Logan continues to describe it as Virgil works patiently to clean him up, pausing every once in a while to murmur words of comfort and encouragement when Logan's voice gets a bit too strained or his hand suddenly tenses. He keeps asking questions, prompting Logan to continue talking, until he finishes describing one of the more frustrating puzzles and realizes that Virgil's hands are on his shoulders, not his legs.

"You…you're done?"

"Yeah, bud, I'm all done. You did great. Here, drink some more water."

He accepts the cup and manages to lift it himself this time, Virgil's thumbs stroking gently over the seams of his shirt. The cool air of his room hits his still-damp skin and he shivers. "Are…are we to talk about what happened now?"

"I think that's a good idea, don't you?" He shrinks in on himself and Virgil's quick to lean forward, cupping the back of his head and carding a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad, L. I'm not gonna get mad. You don't have to be scared with me, I swear."

"You promise?"

He wants to flinch at how much a child he sounds, but Virgil just smiles. "I promise."

He closes his eyes, turning his face into the crook of Virgil's neck. Virgil's fingers keep working patiently against his scalp. He takes one deep breath, two, three.

"I was…talking with Patton."

"Okay."

"We were—I was—" he swallows— "I was trying to explain how I'm not—I don't—I don't feel things as strongly as he and Roman do all the time but that it's not the same thing as not feeling at all because it isn't, just because I don't yell or shout or proclaim my emotions for everyone to see doesn't make them less important or less valid just for—"

"Shh, easy." Virgil's hand rubs firmly up and down his back. "Hey, bud, you're okay."

He swallows. His chest starts to get tight again. "He wasn't listening to me."

"Can you say more?"

"He—he kept on trying to say that I did have feelings, even if they weren't the same as what I thought they should look like, but I do know what my feelings look like, I know better than him what they look like because they're my feelings, and I—" he chokes on a sob and Virgil shushes him again, whispering you're doing great— "I just got so mad."

Virgil rubs his back again, pulling away to push the cup of water into his hands again. "You got mad?"

He nods. "I…I yelled at him about how he didn't know what was best for me and he didn't—couldn't know what I was feeling because he's Thomas's emotions, not mine, and I didn't—I didn't mean to get so mad but it wasn't—I couldn't just explain it to him calmly because he wasn't listening but then he tried to tell me I was—I was—"

"Hey. Hey." Virgil takes his face in his hands, giving him the gentlest of shakes. "Look at me, L. Just look at me."

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Shh, shh, don't be sorry, you're not doing anything wrong. It's okay, you're okay, you're alright. It's just me, we're in your room, you're safe. Just take a second, calm down…shh, shh, that's it…that's it, L, you're doing great."

Logan takes a deep, shuddering breath. The lump in his throat grows. He truly didn't mean to shout at Patton. He didn't deserve it. He just got so frustrated and Patton wasn't listening and it—he—

"Is that why you came up here?" Virgil's question is gentle but stings no less. "Because you felt bad about it?"

"I don't like being angry," he croaks. "I don't like the person I become when I'm that angry."

"Oh, L…"

"I don't know how to be angry without being punished for it," he whispers, "and Patton—Patton just—he just—I—he couldn't—I can't—"

"What did he do? Or say?"

He sniffles. "He said that if I really did know about my feelings, then I wouldn't…then when I felt them, I wouldn't—I would know how to handle them."

Virgil's quiet for a long moment. Then he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like kick your ass that Logan's fairly certain is directed at Patton, not him, before he's being bundled up in another strong hug. "I'm really sorry, L, that was shitty of Patton to say."

"I didn't mean to—"

"Hey, uh-uh. We're not gonna do that now. We're gonna make sure you have enough water to drink, that you eat something, and that you rest, okay? Everything else can wait."

Logan nods. He takes another breath and holds onto Virgil. "What is it you say?"

"About what?"

"About later you?"

"Oh, right: that's a problem for Future Virgil. These are problems for Future Us to deal with, yeah? Trust me, I'm an expert problem identifier."

Virgil's shampoo smells like pine. Logan tucks his chin over his shoulder and hums. "You're wrong about just being that, by the way."

"Huh?"

"You always say that you don't solve problems, you just find them. But that's not true. You help. All the time."

"Aw, thanks, L. You're sweet."

"Does that count as an emotion?"

"'Sweet?' I dunno, let's ask Princey when we're up to it. For now, why don't you poof yourself into something more comfy and we'll watch an episode of that dumb game show you like making fun of."

"The one where the points system makes no sense?"

"Yep. That one. And, hey, Logan?" Virgil chucks him lightly under the chin with a smile. "I'm really proud of you."

"But I…relapsed."

"Yeah, but then you did all of this. You let me take care of you, we talked about it, we made sure you're okay for right now, and that shit's harder than people give it credit for. So yeah, bud, I'm super proud of you."

The smallest smile makes it to Logan's face.

***

The first thing Roman realizes when he wakes up is that he's somewhere soft and warm. Which is strange, because last time he checked, the bathroom floor where he thought he'd passed out is neither of those things.

Then he realizes there's a gloved hand adjusting the blankets tucked up under his chin and oh.

"Hi, sweetie," Janus says softly, patting his cheek, "good to have you back."

"How long…?"

"A few hours, at least. You were pretty exhausted." He raises his eyebrows. "Would you like to explain yourself, or should I?"

There's just enough gentle affection in his voice to keep the sting from overwhelming him, but he can't help but flinch away from it. Janus coos, leaning down to brush a kiss over his forehead, a cold un-gloved hand tucking itself against the side of his neck.

"You've been sick, sweetie, for days, and you've hidden it from all of us."

"Didn't—didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to hide it, or didn't mean for it to get this bad?" Roman shuffles guiltily. Janus hums. "I found you on the floor of the bathroom, covered in sweat. I managed to get you into bed but you need to eat and drink something."

"Not hungry."

"You don't have much of a choice right now, Roman, you need something in you. Don't you dare," he threatens with a tap to Roman's nose when he opens his mouth, "I'll get Remus to help me bully you into taking care of yourself, don't think I won't."

"…okay."

"There we go. Come sit up, you've got more pillows than Sleeping Beauty's palace. Would you prefer juice or Gatorade?"

"…can I have blue?"

"Yes, you can have blue. Sit up, now…"

Roman carefully gets himself sitting upright, blankets still swaddling his lower half as Janus reaches for a small bottle on his nightstand. He manages about half of it before he gives it back. When Janus moves toward him with a snack, though, he closes his mouth and stubbornly turns away.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I have to get back to work."

"You don't have to do anything other than rest and get better."

"But we have movie night."

"Exactly. We don't have anything else to do other than relax, so you should try and rest up now so that if you feel up to it—if," he repeats sternly when Roman shrugs, "you feel up to it, you can join us."

"But that's not how it works."

"That's not how what works?"

"I don't get to relax during movie nights."

Janus pauses. There's a soft clunk as he sets the bowl back on the nightstand and then the cool hand is cupping Roman's cheek, thumb brushing over his flushed skin. He closes his eyes at the relief of it.

"What do you mean," comes Janus's soft voice, "that you don't get to relax during movie nights?"

"I don't get to."

"Say more, sweetie."

"That's not—that's not the point. That's not why we have them."

"That's precisely why we have them, Roman, so we can all de-stress and relax together."

"No, we have them so Thomas can relax."

"We—we're saying the same thing, Roman—"

"No, we aren't." Roman pulls away from the touch, burying his face in his hands and scrubbing harshly. Janus tuts, catching them and pulling them to his lips, kissing his knuckles. "Don't—what're you doing?"

Janus's eyebrows quirk. "Why am I treating you gently? Is that what you're asking?"

"…you're mad at me, so—"

"I'm not mad at you, sweetie." When Roman frowns, something flickers over his expression and settles on something way too close to devastation for Roman to be comfortable still holding eye contact, so he looks away as Janus lets out a quiet noise. "Oh, Roman…"

"What?"

"Can you look at me?" Roman drags his eyes back up and Janus squeezes his hands. "Why do you think I'm angry with you?"

"…you had to take care of me? I'm disagreeing with you? I'm not—you didn't—I haven't—"

"That's my fault," Janus interrupts with a sigh, "let me rephrase: I'm not angry with you, Roman. I'm not angry that I 'had' to take care of you, I'm upset because you needed taking care of and you didn't feel like you could let us know. I'm not angry that you're disagreeing with me, I'm concerned because you're telling me that something I thought was relaxing for you isn't actually relaxing at all. I'm not mad, you're not in trouble, I'm not going to—to punish you, I want to help."

Roman stares at him. That's more words than he's ever heard Janus say to him about feelings ever, and too many of them sound too perfect to be coming out of Janus's mouth at him. And as if he can hear those thoughts, Janus takes his un-gloved hand and brushes Roman's hair back from his damp forehead. An embarrassing noise leaves his mouth and he goes to pull away but then the other hand is cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer.

"Can you tell me why movie nights aren't relaxing for you?"

His jaw wobbles. "I have to—they're for Thomas."

"What does that mean? I'm not trying to make fun of you," he says quickly when Roman's mouth screws up, "I'm just trying to understand."

"It's for Thomas. That means I have to—I'm there for Thomas. I have to be watching the movie for Thomas. I'm not—that's not relaxing, nothing I do for Thomas is relaxing, it's work."

"But Thomas doesn't always come to our movie nights."

"So?"

Janus frowns. "So why would the ones where he's not there also be for him?"

"What does Thomas do to relax?"

"Let's see, he…well, he watches movies, he reads things, he watches shows, plays games with his friends…"

"He engages with stories."

Janus lets out a quiet oh. Roman closes his eyes. The pounding in his head is back.

"So it's…work. It's part of the 0.5%, or whatever it was."

"You know that Logan doesn't believe that anymore, don't you?" Roman's quiet for a little too long before Janus kisses his forehead again. "We'll talk to him when you feel better, okay?"

"Wait, 'we?'"

"You didn't think I'd leave you on your own to deal with things, did you?" At Roman's hopeful expression, he chuckles. "You're enough of a disaster already."

"Hey!" He smacks weakly at Janus's chest. "I'm sick, you have to be nice to me."

"And considering that's the first time you've admitted that you're sick, I'd say that proves my point."

"No fair."

"I know, I'm so mean to you," he murmurs, unable to keep all of the remorse from his voice as he kisses him again. "Shh, it's alright, sweetie, everything's going to be okay. Now go to sleep, you need it."

"Will you—can you stay?"

"Of course I can, sweetie. Rest, now. We can sort everything else out when you wake up."

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