#or argue with me whichever feels more right to you

[soupy-girl]

i'm bored so here's a non-comprehensive list of smosh members i think would have been good duos had they been cast members at the same time

arasha/lasercorn

kimmy/trevor

ify/mari

jackie/boze

joven/spencer

boze/kimmy

arasha/saige

sohinki/amanda

ify/chanse

angela/mari

joven/trevor

lasercorn/angela

tommy/sohinki

[songmingisthighs]

My, My, Mine

group : ateez

pairing : jealous, dom!san × reader

genre : smut, pwp, requested

wc : 3.6 k

warning : mdni, possessive!san, mentions of patriarchal upbringing, san trying to exert his dominance in the relationship, san calling mc basically slutty or a hoe but not in those words, drunken sex (so maybe kinda dubcon-ish ??? is it ??), explicit sex (bondage, denied orgasm, sadism ?? idk man, san being a meanie, mc being whiny despite g0rl power, slight dacryphilia ?? big man likes whiny crybabies, multiple orgasm, degradation, filming while having sex (you've been warned), creampie, and more idk i can't list all of them but if you think i should list more as like warning, please lmk !)

a/n : idt i've written any san smut (other than the debauchery that was ignominy) so I'm excited for this request ! i had this in my wip for quite a while and I'm FINALLY finishing it !!!

a/a/n : sorry this took a while, I had to get in the right mood for this lmaooooo hope you enjoy it !

a/a/a/n : ALSO HAPPY SANI DAY !!!

buy me coffee ?

It hadn't been that long since you and San started dating and it was quite the adjustment.

On one hand, you loved him dearly, he and all of his adorable quirks. But San, as he was raised quite conservatively by a strong, patriarchal figure, had managed to show some of the traits. Sure, you could get used to having things paid for you despite it making you feel like a burden, but having to argue with San in public when he insisted that he should be the one carrying all of your things or even waiting for you at your office's lobby when he's available so he'd be able to accompany you home was not something you like. So you both adjusted. Or tried to.

You didn't realize the extent of his views until you went to a girls' night.

During the whole time, San kept texting you about your whereabouts, reminding you not to drink too much. You'd answer once or twice but for every answer you gave, he sent five more texts and it was getting rather annoying. You realized he meant well but the way he was doing it was making it seem like he thought you were an incapable idiot who was going to need him, your knight in shining armour, to rescue you from the bad bad men of this world. You had gone through life just fine without him before and you were not some dumbass.

The realization that the alcohol in your system was stirring your emotions should have been enough to get you to sober up especially knowing that San was staying over to take care of you (a compromise you begrudgingly accepted). But your friends were egging you on and you knew that you didn't want to face San without some liquid courage. It was high time you took him down a peg. Or peg him down. Whichever comes first.

"Honey, I'm home," you slurred, giggling when you got through your front door and started taking off your shoes.

There were shuffles and soon San's voice rang through your ears. "Baby! I missed you! Where-" the words died in San's mouth when he saw the state you were in, or more specifically, the clothes you were wearing. "What the hell?" he asked, standing at a distance looking at you with disbelief in his eyes that you couldn't notice because you were too intoxicated to be aware of your surroundings. "Sannie," You giggled, stumbling to your boyfriend after you shrugged off your coat to the floor to ask for a hug. San still accepted your hug but he was oddly quiet, his eyes hard, and his fists were balled around your waist.

"I'm home now, Sannie!" you were still giggling as you started peppering San's face with kisses. It was then that San smelled the heavy alcohol in your breath which made him cringe and push you back slightly, "What in God's name have you been doing?" Then his eyes travelled down to your clothes, "And what is with this outfit?"

You immediately recognized the tone that he was using on you and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, "I told you I was going to a girls' night at the club and obviously this outfit is amazing because the bartender gave me 2 free shots!" you excitedly said. San reeled back and crossed his arms on his chest, "You mean to tell me you flirted for free drinks?" it took you a moment to answer but you shook your head, "Didn't have to flirt, he saw me in this outfit and he just showed his appreciation. It was no big deal," you shrugged and you tried pushing past him but he easily stopped you by blocking your path. "(y/n), I have to tell you I'm not comfortable with this. It kind of seems like you were selling your dignity so cheaply. As your boyfriend-" "Whoah, go back to you accusing me of being a hoe," you cut him off. San's eyebrows furrowed and he immediately defended himself, "I didn't call you a hoe, I'm just stating that I am not okay with my girlfriend wearing something so short, skimpy, and revealing just so she wouldn't have to pay for her drinks!" he stated.

Truthfully, San didn't have much problem with how you dress. He actually thought that you looked absolutely hot. Hell, he bought you the damn dress when he thought that you were going to wear it when you go out with him. He trusted you completely but what he couldn't trust were the rest 99% of the population who might do something bad to you when you're intoxicated in clothes that for lack of a better word, provided a lot of access. Something bad like what he wanted to do to you when he first saw that dress which was to rip your panties in two, fuck you in the dressing room, stuff you full of cum, and make you keep them safe until you both went home so he can eat the cum out of you.

Had you been sober, you could've agreed with the part about your dress being short, skimpy, and revealing because you had spent the better part of the night trying to not bend down and making sure that when you were dancing, you were shielded by your girlfriends. But the implication still didn't sit right with you and the fact that San was using the boyfriend card ticked you off.

"You're my boyfriend San, not my owner or my master. I'm still my own person and had I flashed a tit or two to get free shit, I should be able to! I get to decide what I get and what I don't get," you huffed and tried pushing past him.

Your steps halted when San shot his hand out and placed it on your chest, his fingers rigid on your collarbones and when you looked into his eyes, there was a glint of darkness and lust that made you shudder.

"Is that how it is, little Miss Independent? You really think you're in charge of whatever you get, big girl?" he smirked, voice lowering down and it was then did you realize, even through your drunken haze, that you were fucked. Or going to be. Hard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All hopes of your friend borrowing your dress were shattered and you had to break the news to her because right now, that dress was being used to tie your hands together behind your back while San had you on top of him, connecting his face with your pussy as he did his best to draw your third orgasm.

"Aww look at you," San chuckled darkly against your pussy, "Big girl can't handle two orgasms in a row?" The spank he delivered on your ass made your knees slip and allowed your whole weight to fall on San who happily accepted being suffocated by your sweet cunt. "S-San," you whimpered, trying to relieve the overstimulation by lifting your hips only to receive a guttural growl from below as his strong arms snaked around your thighs to ensure that you wouldn't be able to escape him. "San, please stop, it's too much" you whimpered while still trying to get out of his grip. Your senses had returned after the first orgasm when San managed to flush the alcohol out of you somehow only for it to be thrown back into a haze when he was working on your second.

Tired of your whining, San flipped you both over and allowed you a moment to breathe. Although it was hard what with the way your cunt was still throbbing and your heart still beating wildly in your chest. Despite his annoyance, San found your sprawled figure to be very delectable what with your flushed and warm skin, rising chest, and pussy glistening with sweat, spit, and arousal, making it seem like it was inviting him in again.

San grabbed your legs and pried them open, allowing him to glare at your pulsing entrance with eyes clouded in desire. "I thought big, independent girls wouldn't have to whine and beg like needy little bitches? Where's the confidence you used to get free drinks from cheap losers?" you somehow managed to lift your head to look at San who had his eyes now locked on yours as he leaned down close to your aching core, "Where's the confidence you used to allow people to think you're not spoken for?" Your back was arched and your jaw unhinged when San licked a fat, long stripe from your peritoneum up to your clit at an agonizingly slow speed. It was as if he wanted you to feel every single bit of movement he made that effectively drove your mind into overdrive. You felt your legs start to shake when he plunged three fingers into your leaking hole after spitting on your cunt, hitting your sensitive clit that he used as a bullseye.

The smug look on his face as he watch you writhe from overstimulation shouldn't turn you on so much but the way you physically reacted betrayed you completely as it chased for more of San, whatever he was willing to give you.

"You're a jerk," you whimpered through teary eyes. Though your voice was getting hoarse from the night out which was followed by him overstimulating you to high heavens, San could hear you loud and clear. "I thought you like getting attention?" San scoffed, pausing to him slapping you harshly on your cunt which caused your body to jolt at the impact, "That's why you were dressed like that, right? I'm just being a supportive boyfriend and helping you practice." The insinuation pissed you off and despite your struggling, you tried to get yourself up and away from him (and failing rather miserably), "I dressed like that for myself you possessive jerk," "Oh, so the lack of panties was what, for health?" When you couldn't answer him, he knew he got you dead on and being proud of himself, he smirked and pulled himself off of you and the bed. The sudden void he left caused you to almost whine out loud, brain forgetting that you were somewhat mad at him.

San came back to the bed completely naked and holding your phone. Immediately, he positioned you flat on your back and his thick thighs pushed onto your own firmly so you were basically folded. Your breath hitched when you felt his cock resting against your sensitive cunt a bit too casually. The skin-on-skin contact allowed you to feel how hot it felt and the way it pleasured you when it rubbed against you every time San made even the slightest movement. "You can say whatever you want and I'll do whatever I want. Seems fair, doesn't it?" Your heart beat quicker and harder in your chest simply from the way he hinted at his plan. "What are you going to do?" You asked, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. San only raised a cocky eyebrow, not even bothering to answer you properly and just simply tapping away on your phone. You had even considered that he might have contacted one of your friends or worse, call them before he fucked you.

But San didn't give you enough time to overthink because, in a moment's time, San flipped your phone sideways, pressed a button, and started pushing inside you. Your eyes watered again from the stretch and even though you were well-lubricated thanks to San's torture on your cunt earlier and also his spit, his size didn't make things easier for you. His cock glided smoothly but your muscles tensed up from the sudden intrusion, slowing his pace a bit and restricting him from being too rough. "Look at Miss Independence breaking down over her boyfriend's cock like a common whore," he chuckled darkly, relishing in the way you whimpered his name and your body arching in pleasure at the feeling of him, "Come on baby, show the camera how you're in charge of everything you get or don't get," he mocked. You were sure that your tears were not just from being overstimulated but also from the humiliation. You were a proud woman who could confidently say that you have never let a man use you even if he tried. But there you were on your back, hands tied, and mind fuzzy, hyper-aware of the way your body just submitted to San's every whim, betraying your better judgment that was still screaming for you to push him off and make him get a taste of his own medicine. But of course, your body was as stubborn as your mind as it refused to go against San.

"San, put away the camera," you whined, turning away from the camera only to have San grab your cheeks in one free hand and force you to look back at him. "Why should I? If you want me to stop, then do it yourself. Take the camera away from me," he smirked as he adjusted his knees so he could start rolling his hips into yours, creating a steady rhythm.

From the screen, he could see the way you glared at him as his words, knowing full well that although he had challenged you to do something you could absolutely not do anything due to the fact that your hands were bound behind your back. Had it been any other circumstance, San would tell you how turned on he was with you at that moment. The way tears made your eyes seem like they were glittering, the way your cheeks were puffed and flushed from frustration, and the way your body was opened up for him to use. The fire between you two was one of the things that San loved.

"Come on, (y/n), show the camera what you can do," he egged, thrusting harshly into you which elicited a high-pitched squeal from your lips. "Fuck you," you whimpered but you did as he told as you began fucking yourself back and instead of matching his pace, you fucked yourself on his cock quicker, convincing yourself that it was, in a way, you taking charge over him. Though, the satisfied look on San's face, paired with the way he licked his bottom lip as he pointed the camera to where you two were connected, proved you otherwise. "I can get fucked if I want to, I control what I get," you stated albeit slightly unconvincingly as your quivering bottom lip served as a dead giveaway. "Of course you do," San cooed mockingly before his free hand dropped to between your legs to spread your pussy lips apart, allowing the camera to capture the way your cunt was swallowing him so greedily.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he saw your cunt pulsing and his head was running wild with filthy ideas. "Baby, I wanna breed you so bad so people would know who you belong to," Your breath hitched when his handsome face contorted into a chesire-like grin and your so-called control was stolen as quickly as you got it. "You're not gonna do shit to me San, I mean it," at this point, your defiance was more like a facade because you wanted what he was offering but your pride wanted to twist it around. San moved his hips quickly, greedily taking all of the pleasure he could get out of you. "Fuck, my big girl is gonna get creamed," he chuckled darkly, fucking you as he tried to keep the camera still to capture everything, particularly the way your cunt leaked so much arousal that his own crotch was wet with the transferred slick.

Your body was being used so well that your limbs (the free ones at least, which were your legs) were flailing about slightly. "Stupid little baby wants to have control when she can't even control her legs, she's fucked so stupid," he teased as you whined in protest, wanting to prove him wrong. So despite the weakness in your legs from the ministrations, you shifted your body around so that you were on your side and your legs were crossed over the other. The new position trapped San's cock inside you and the sensation of his cock being trapped halted his movements mid-way and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as a guttural groan echoed in your ears. You took his response as a mini triumph. "Fuck, you got tighter," he shuddered, body shaking as he took a shaky breath, "Were you trying to snap my dick off?" You feigned innocence as you began rocking your hips again, "Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe if I snap your dick off it'll become mine," you smirked. "You conniving slut."

No longer caring about the camera, San tossed your phone to the side and started pounding into you in a pace that was animalistic. "F-fuck- Aah! San!" you squealed when he planted his left foot firmly on the bed and pounded harder as if he was trying to destroy your insides.

"Say you won't go out dressed like that again," he demanded, face planted on your chest as his abuse of your cunt continued. He began nipping, kissing, biting, and licking all over the skin of your breast and it almost succeeded in clouding your mind into absolute submission due to pleasure. But you managed to firmly shook your head, "I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, I'll do whatever I want!" you answered between harsh pants and heavy breathing.

You heard San click his tongue before he ripped himself off of you in a flash, leaving you on the edge of orgasm and cold. "What the fuck!?" you whined, instinctively trying to get up to chase after San but your bound hands prevented you from moving easily.

San tilted his head and mockingly pouted, "If you can do whatever you want then so can I, baby." Your eyes zeroed in on his hand that jacked his hard, leaking cock and you knew well enough that it wouldn't take him much to cum at that point. Despite his treatment towards you, you wanted his cum, you wanted his cum inside you. "San, you get back here and fuck me!" you scream-whined, desperate to find release.

Hearing your demand, San went back onto the bed and got closer to you. For a moment, you thought San was going back to fucking you but he simply slapped his cock on your face, taunting you. "You want me to fuck you now? I thought you were in charge of yourself," he smirked, rubbing the tip of his cock on your skin, leaving a trail of precum mixed with what was left of your arousal. You held yourself back from using your mouth to chase his cock but your sexual frustration was at its peak and it was at that moment that your resolve broke and you whined. "Sannie, please fuck me, make me cum and then breed me so other guys won't even get close to me, please, please."

That seemed to satisfy San because his next move was to finally release your hands from the hold of the makeshift handcuffs and flip you over so you were on top of him. The pooling slick allowed him to slip inside you rather easily and once he was buried inside, you let out a gasp. "Ride me," San demanded, eyes fixated on you and hands on your hips firmly. San's words barely concluded before you started fucking yourself on his cock, letting out all the frustration both sexual and emotional from the whole bullshit. You anchored yourself on San's broad chest and used him to chase your own release.

"Yeah baby, do it, fuck yourself on me. Use my cock like the big girl that you are," San goaded, smirking and panting from the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock so tightly. "T-told you I'm i-in charge," you panted, throwing your head back as the pleasure ran through your body like electric shocks, making you tingly all over. "Sure you are, baby," San groaned when he felt his release coming.

With one swift swivel of your hips, your body tensed, legs clamped and your orgasm broke like a wave crashing. "Fuck!" you squealed, a couple of tears fell down your face as your body fell backwards without detaching your core from San. Seeing you in your own state of ecstasy, San sat up and shuffled around so he could have his chance chasing his high with you. You were in such a state of blissful release and satisfaction that when San started to overstimulate you once again with his cock, all you could do was groan and turn, trying to get away from him half-heartedly. "I'm cumming inside you, okay? I'm gonna paint you with my seed," San panted into your ear as his lips nipped at the skin, causing the area to tingle and you to whimper as you nodded weakly.

It didn't take long for San to cum inside you, fulfilling his previous promise. He let out a low, breathy moan that got your cunt clenching as he rode his release, making sure that his cum was not wasted and was kept inside you.

Neither of you spoke as you tried catching your breaths, still trying to cool down from the rigorous activity and for you specifically, your mind too far gone to recover so quickly. San momentarily peeked at the edge of the bed, particularly at your ruined dress and couldn't help but smirk, thinking that at least he had one problem done.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread

[lil-dragon-rawr]

FNaF x DC: the Aftons vs the Gotham Rogue Gallery

(a continuation of this post)

Part Three is now available :D (the brainrot has taken over)

Red Hood: hey, kids have been going missing lately. I haven't been able to find who dunnit yet so be sure to keep Gregory out of the streets

Michael: kids. Going missing?

Michael, thinking: this sounds like a job for a pyromaniac night guard!

Red Hood, finally tracking down the Dollmaker's lair: uhh hi Mike, whatcha doin?

Michael "Constantly Atoning For the Sins of His Past" Afton, messing with the wiring of the building while a group of missing kids huddle around him: making sure that freak goes up in flames

Red Hood: ...cool, want some C4 to go with that?

Michael:

Red Hood:

Michael, realizing there's a more efficient way to do this: you have C4?

Kiteman: *exists, minding his own business, enjoying a scenic flight over the park*

Gregory, dragging a wagon full of God knows what to the nearest roof: hey Freddy look away for a minute, okay?

Glamrock Freddy: Gregory, I cannot help but feel you are about to do something incredibly suspicious, if not outright illegal.

Gregory:

Glamrock Freddy:

Glamrock Freddy: I will remove power to my eyes for one minute.

Gregory: :)

(forty-five seconds later)

Kiteman: *screams, falls from the sky, crashes through a food cart on his way down*

Glamrock Freddy: ...Gregory, what did you do?

Gregory:

Gregory: so you know the saying two birds, one stone?

Glamrock Freddy:

Gregory:

Glamrock Freddy:

Gregory: ...I got you a wingsuit!

Glamrock Freddy, disappointed: Gregory.

Nightwing and Scrap Baby: *still arguing over clown etiquette*

Joker, thinking that Nightwing is distracted and that this is a good opportunity to pull a "shenanigan": hrnngnn hello Gotham citizens! I planted Joker venom in a school and a hospital! Whichever place evacuates first gets the other place gassed hehaugha!

Scrap Baby, staring at the Joker in a way that can only be described as judgemental:

Nightwing, breaking off his rant to also stare at the Joker:

Scrap Baby:

Nightwing:

Scrap Baby: so we can both agree that that's not a clown, right?

Nightwing, pulling out his escrima sticks: oh, absolutely

Red Hood, explaining how he died to Michael: -and that's why I hate clowns.

Michael: yikes

Michael, trying to figure out what kind of ghost/undead Red Hood is: do you want...revenge?

Red Hood: well yeah but B's super stingy about how many guys I can off per year

Michael: ...do you have to kill the clown for your revenge to be satiated?

Red Hood:

Red Hood: ...no

Michael: cool :)

Michael, checking his FazWatch as he waits outside the gates of Arkham: hm, this is taking longer than I thought

Red Robin: heyyy Mike whatcha doin out here

Michael: waiting on my brother and his friend :)

Batman, Concerned™: Michael, did you send Gregory into Arkham?

Michael: no of course not, I would never be so irresponsible!

Batman and Red Robin, thinking the situation isn't that bad: *breathing a sigh of relief*

Michael: Do you know how much physical and psychological damage he'd cause?

Batman and Red Robin: ...

Michael, not reading the room: maybe I should send him in there. For enrichment, if nothing else

Red Robin, putting pieces together: wait, what's Golden Freddy doing in Arkham?? Isn't it just an empty suit???

Batman, thinking: please don't make me explain this to Gordon. Please don't make me explain this to Gordon.

Michael: oh he's there for revenge! :D

Batman:

Batman: *deep, deep sigh*

Batman: explain.

Michael: well, there are different types of ghosts, right?

Michael: you met the Puppet, she's a protector

Michael: and I'm a mix of atonement and protection

Michael: but my brother's friend is a vengeful spirit!

Michael: ...and she kind of maybe imprinted on Red Hood pleasedon'tbemad

Batman: *very long sigh*

Batman: if anyone's dead, it's your fault.

Michael, knowing it'll only be the Joker: ...I can live with that

Golden Freddy: *appears* ITSME

Red Robin: *jumps four feet in the air*

Michael: well you sure decided to take your time!

Golden Freddy:

Michael: yeah yeah whatever

Michael: did you have fun?

Golden Freddy: :)

Gordon: so the Joker's dead because...?

Batman: ...it's complicated.

Gordon, eyeing him suspiciously: not that I'm complaining about the Joker being dead but whoever did it must've been an expert, they got in and out without being seen and distorted the cameras while they were in his cell

Batman, knowing it was a child:

Mr. Freeze, cornering Michael: tell me the secret to eternal life!

Michael: heh???

Mr. Freeze: you have discovered a way to live forever, now share it with me so I can save my wife!

Michael:

Michael: okay well first off I didn't do crap-

Michael, experiencing constant harassment from Mr. Freeze: can you get lost already?

Mr. Freeze: I think you know the answer to that.

Michael, increasingly fed up with Freeze's toddler mindset: fine, you wanna know?

Mr. Freeze, excited: finally!

Michael: eternal life is a curse, not a gift,

Mr. Freeze: heh?

Michael: I mean look at me I'm literally a walking corpse held together with duct tape,

Michael: and don't even get me started on how I got here,

Michael: all I did was trust someone close to me,

Michael: and you know what happened?

Mr. Freeze:

Michael: I died!

Michael: and then a pile of robot spaghetti violated my body!

Mr. Freeze, backing away slowly: what the [ERROR: REPLACE: OEDIPUS]

Michael, watching him go:

Michael: well that was easy

Michael: should've done that ages ago

Scrap Baby, meeting Harley for the first time: you're a clown too!!

Harley, trying to compliment her: aww no you're a clown!

Harley: love your hair btw

Nightwing, very pointedly: yeah Harley's an actual clown cause she went to clown school

Scrap Baby: !!! Clown school!!!

(Harley and Scrap Baby having a therapy session)

Scrap Baby, lamenting: it took me so long to realize I didn't need to do everything Father said

Harley: aw yeah the patriarchy is deeply ingrained in society, but you don't need a man to be evil! You can be a villain all on your own!

Harley, raising a glass: anyways cheers to recognizing the most important man in your life was a manipulative [£√√@√]!

Scrap Baby, clinking her own glass against Harley's: to female villain empowerment!

Red Robin, listening in and comprehending the chaos Nightwing unleashed: oh Jesus Christ

[fanged-fanfics]

Hiii, I think it must’ve been like, 5 years since I ever sent an ask to an x reader blog lol. I’m doing it now since this whole year has just been plagued with health issues for me and rn my ribs/lungs/diaphragm/something on the sides are aching like hell T^T so I could rlly use some comfort from the sun and moon monkeys with a reader who suffers from health issues 🥺 not picky about gender or whether it’s s/o or platonic or if it’s a drabble or hcs, whichever feels right/easiest for you to write. Tysmmm 💚

💜🌙 Health Issues — Macaque and Wukong x GN Reader HCs 👑🧡

₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑🌙୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

- Wukong has a history of being involved with medicine, so he might try to use more traditional/mystical methods to try and ease any aches and pains

- Macaque would be slightly more out of the loop, but he'd research more modern methods to try and help you out

- They're very accommodating to what you can or can't do, they're very willing to do anything you feel like you can't and are never judgemental if there's any small task that you don't feel up to

- Wukong usually has to train or monitor MK, so Macaque would probably be home most often. He might snark a little here and there, but he's very attentive with your needs. He remembers everything you need and gives you medication exactly on schedule, and he encourages you to eat and drink water regularly to keep your strength up

- When Wukong is home, he's usually right by your side if you're alright with it, making sure you're as comfortable as possible and keeping up his laid-back attitude to try and keep you in high spirits

- They surprisingly argue as little as possible around you, not wanting to make your physical ailments worse by adding mental strain on top of it. They keep their usual spats down to just the occasional off glance, and if they really need to fight, they do it outside of wherever you're staying

- Macaque is attentive to your smaller needs, making sure you have your little creature comforts and keeping things maintained on that level, while Wukong tries to make you your meals and prep activities for you to do to keep you entertained while also making it easygoing to reduce strain

- It's likely that MK visits you at some point cause he hears about your health problems from Monkey King. He might ramble your ear off for like an hour and a half before Wukong pulls them back

- If Macaque can't be near you for whatever reason, he uses shadow clones to stay nearby and take care of you in his stead, while Wukong would produce clones from his hair to do the same. You're basically never alone unless you specifically ask to be, then they pull back the efforts and allow you room to relax

[krisluxxeeempress]

WHY ARE THEY MAD? PICK-A- PILE

Pile One: Work Related

It appears as if you have people in your work environment MAD because they see you making more moves and less announcements these days. With great effort to not jump ahead energetically to read these cards inadvertently lets me know these people are mad because they’re watching you and still somehow confused as to how you are making more moves & advancing ahead of them. Imagine watching an entire movie and missing parts, forcing you to rewind. These people are watching you and confused as to how you are growing in your career, business, creative pursuits etc. The rewind energy I referenced in my example is what is happening to these people who are too busy watching you while they’re life is on hold and or  are being forced to re-do something that they missed in their life. ( Saturn RX energy)

 It feels like I’m writing in a circle, but I know that the energy I am picking up on from those people who are mad at you. You are running circles around these people while they’re watching you!  AND STILL, THEY DON’T SEE YOU COMING. For some of you, they are mad because you found a loophole or some kind of weakness or lack in your respective fields which is the key to your success. While everyone is doing, looking, sounding, thinking, producing the same shit ( excuse my language) you are giving what needs to be gave, effortlessly. It gives heavy unique vibes. Nothing is truly new under the sun, however, whatever it is your doing and or offering appears to be different and to your credit- I am confident it is different. AND THAT IS WHY THEY ARE MAD!! To my next point, you have these people mad because you don’t do what everyone else does. BOOM ! It’s amazing how everyone does, looks, acts, says, moves, smells, and thinks the same while simultaneously thinking they are still different. Like how? EXACTLY. ( questions that need answers) While everyone else is copying and using others for a come up or lifestyle, you seem to be getting it out the mud- quite literally.

You have literally or are in the process of drafting something from scratch meanwhile others just regurgitate basic information, products or “skills” for clout and money. I keep wanting to use the word appear and so there’s something extremely significant about appearances. ( heavy Sun | Leo energy) For those gold diggers out there, man or woman, they are mad at you because they play dummy games and are now being rewarded with dummy prizes. The card, “these hoes aint loyal” (Chris Brown vibes) came out which is why I feel there are some gold diggers in your energy MAD at you. They took the easy, predictable and trifling way out meanwhile you took the harder way, and you are managing to get further ahead ( or will be, this may be a prediction) This could even be the other way around where you come into whichever work| creative field and things start to manifest for you easier and quicker as opposed to those people who may have been doing it longer than you.

TRUST AND BELIEVE- THEY ARE MAD!!!!

Last card out: THEY HAVE TO STAY MAD

PERIOD.

Pile Two: Single & Won't Mingle

I initially started this reading off with the disclaimer and then I deleted it. Then the energy switched just that fast and so with that being said- you have someone mad that you are not giving warnings, disclaimers, arguing, nagging or fighting for them to act right. This reading has two different scenarios- so stay with me. Some of you may not be single, however, you are dealing with someone who acts single. Feel me? We have all heard of those single married people. This can even be a situation where someone is mad because their ( baby mom or dad) child’s father or mother is acting single. The first card that came out was “ they are mad because you don’t want kids, anymore kids, or none of their kids”. You see why I’m conflicted? This is energy I’m picking up from a single person who refuses to deal with someone who has children. Or this is someone who has children with someone who is acting single.

It gets worse! Someone is mad you will not have sex with them. So, for those who do not have children or want anymore- this person is mad because you feel like that is their goal or simply you are not attracted to or making time for them for whatever reason. It’s messy and I am trying to explain this simply but there’s so many factors. NO WONDER THEY ARE MAD. Someone is also mad you know when, where and how to detach. Basically, someone is mad because you may feel like dealing with them would make things complicated and you are avoiding that outcome as best you can. Now that I follow suite and energetically detach, I can process this much better concluding that these people or person is mad because they want to be emotionally and or sexually involved in your life however, you see the red flags from miles and trials away. This person or people are mad because you are lit and won’t change for them and so this helps put things into better context now. With you being lit, this indicates that you are in a good place in your life whether that be financially, spiritually, emotionally or all the above.

Some of you are not heartbroken, missing anyone from the past or carrying any resentment in your heart. It’s like you have a clean slate in your life and you simply do not want to or are not ready to incorporate someone new or back into your life- & that’s fair. This person is mad because they cannot change your mind- aka manipulate you. This may even be people you don’t even know exist and when they see you, they get triggered because the energy you exude is giving “ fuck off” while simultaneously looking sexy or handsome as hell. No wonder you chose not to be involved; I literally could not think straight when my emotions were involved in the beginning of the reading. Everything was confusing and messy and in my personal experience and from observation- that’s usually what occurs when you get emotionally and sexually involved. Some of you may have strong Neptune, Chiron, Libra, Virgo, Pisces or 7th house placements. You have people mad because you are cautious, picky and unattainable if I’m honest. The next cards out are “ time is money, and you can lose it all and bounce back”. AMAZING . It’s clear a lot of you with this energy and mentality are bouncing back and have experienced that messy and confusing situation before when dealing with others.

With time is money, your energy now reminds me of Pile (1). You have redirected your focus into work related and creative outlets. Those creative outlets may now be work for you. If any of you have strong Neptune, Chiron, Leo, Sun etc. placements ( not limited to) it appears as if you are channeling your sexual aka creative energy into work or creativity. Which is another reason why they are mad especially if you resonate with Pile (1). I am proud of this pile because I can feel how much healing you’ve done. How much you’ve matured and how much wisdom you’ve gained.

On YouTube & TikTok, my “ Why Are They Mad” readings are quite popular however, usually someone is mad for petty, superficial and egotistical reasons. I can honestly say this is the first-time people are mad for VALID AND LEGITIMATE REASONS. I personally want someone to be mad that I’m focused, mature, creative, HEALED & HAPPY and have HIGHER STANDARDS. Hell yeah! This is truly what life is about and I can sense your Divinity. You are truly chosen, and you have DEMONS mad. Aw, I feel kindred spirits here… Just re-read this, the energy started off with low vibration and now (personally) I feel at peace.

WOW! Aw, I love you guys who chose this pile , spiritually I know you….

Pile Three: Stepping on Necks

Wow, I don’t know where to start. ( 2 minutes later, SpongeBob narrator voice) You have the world, your neighbors, family, foes, haters, ex’s, pastors, teachers- EVERYBODY MAD because your career is taking off. This is profound because this pile is for those who have been the underdog. This pile is for those who have been struggling, overlooked and receiving the bare minimum in all aspects of life- until now. I am not the type of lie, exaggerate or only speak about GOOD THINGS to appease anyone. ( which is why I’m selectively liked) Believe me when I tell you that a major shift has and or is occurring in your life. The cards “ your ass is fatter, and you snapped back after the baby” came out. On the surface, this would mean some of you may have gained weight for a multitude of reasons. Especially if one was struggling emotionally and spiritually- you gained weight due to eating and laziness. Others you gained weight because you had a baby ( congratulations) however, I do not dwell on the surface and so these cards indicate for me that some of you astrologically speaking in a solar return or progressive chart you may have had your moon in Sagittarius, Jupiter in Aries or 1st house, Jupiter in Taurus or 2nd house , Sagittarius or 9th house , Cancer or 4th house, Moon in Cancer or 4th house. ( however, not limited to)

What this means is that you gained weight and you were undergoing spiritual awakenings with hardships. Life has been hard and for some of you, your body took a hit. With the card “ you snapped back after the baby”, that may be the case for those of you this applies to. For the emotional and stress eaters -you will notice that you are starting to lose weight or break the habits that encouraged weight gain. AND THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!!!! It’s never about appearances but more so what’s going on underneath and for most of you, you were holding on and feeding negative energy that is now being released slowly but surely.  Some of you may have let yourself go and now you are snapping back, better than before. Of course they are mad about this!! Back to your career is taking off, some of you work in corporate while others work for themselves. Those working in corporations, you have always been at the bottom and making the bare minimum or simply never gained the respect that was deserved. Those who work for yourself, you have always been overlooked and paid very little if at all. Some of you may have had to go back into working 9-5 corporate jobs because your business was stagnant. People just did not want to support you at all which forced you to go back into “slavery”.

Nonetheless, this is turning around for you Jupiter style. ( or will be ) Astrologically speaking, check your outer planets- Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto – maybe even your progressive or solar return charts because however society treated you- this is changing. You will no longer have to ask for permission, meaning- you will have the financial comfort or freedom to live and afford the things you want/ need without assistance from anyone. In corporate, you may be promoted to a position to where others must report to you, or you no longer must report to someone- there’s more leeway granted to you. Entrepreneurs, this means exactly what it means. You do not have to ask for permission! Business will be getting better; energy levels will be restored, and you can come and go as you please. AND THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD! IT’S GIVING MORE FREEDOM THAT OTHER’S DO NOT HAVE AND ENJOYED TAKING FROM YOU OR WORKED HARD TO ENSURE YOU NEVER HAD.  Some of you have people mad because no message is the message. ( DAMN)

Intuitively, I feel like some of you may be moving, changing numbers, jobs, contact emails- the whole nine. Those who had access to you before, no longer will. Of course, people feel the energetic shift ( refer back to those outer planets I’ve mentioned) Those people who counted you out and delighted in believing you would never make progress or move forward- now see you in a different light. They now want to be part of your life and “assist” or “support” you whereas, before you did not have that “privilege”. And yet now you are becoming privileged. ( without them) They are mad you are educated. As far as I’m concerned, knowledge is power and you clearly are the most powerful currently, ready to wield that power. It’s all fun and games when the rabbit has the gun ( some of you may be seeing bunnies a lot lately) & THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!

You are educated, which alludes to some of you being able to go back to school to get degrees or this could be simply be speaking on becoming a wiser person. This can also speak of having a skill or talent that you have mastered and are the best at it. Referring to Pile (1), you have a talent or knowledge that sets you apart which is or will be the key to your success. Lastly, people are mad that “ you ain’t with the bafoolery”. This gives me the vibe that you said you would do something ( like succeed) and you’re doing it. You are proving it. You are true to it. I said lastly, but there’s a bit more I want to cover. And that’s your energy- you will succeed and then some. It reminds me a lyric Drake said, mind you he’s a millionaire, successful and never has to work again but in his lyrics, he said something along the lines of “ any other rapper would have retired but I have more to accomplish”. Blah blah. That’s your energy, you will be giving way more than is expected. ( example, I wrote a whole book for this pile) You will be surpassing others and your even your own expectations. People are mad that you are independent which automatically renders the majority POWERLESS.

Most people need others to need them because it makes them feel important and of course, a need can be capitalized. This whole world thrives ON A NEED. The fact that you’ll be in a position where you are no longer subjected to others, IS POWER & THAT IS WHY EVERYBODY WILL BE MAD. It gives underdog is top dog energy. Lastly, ( truly) like Pile (2), everybody will be mad because you do not want marriage. It’s like Rhianna Vibes, she’s a billionaire and everyone expects her to be married because she has two children. If you read pile (2), you just want to remain unencumbered, detached and not tied down to anyone. Especially after you witnessed the true nature of most people. You are cautious, focused and simple do not have time or energy to invite someone into your life who can and will try to take all that you have worked for ALONE. They did not care nor were they attracted to you when you had nothing so in your mind, it’s best they KEEP THAT SAME ENERGY & THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! IF ANY OF THESE PILES RESONATED PLEASE CONSIDER "HEARTING" OR REBLOGGING MY POST. I AM TRYING TO BUILD AND EXPAND MY BLOG AND I NEED YOUR HELP TO DO SO.

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[violetsandfluff]

Broken Ring

“They won’t have to cut it off, right?” you whimpered, feeling your lower lip tremble as you gazed forlornly at the glistening gem on your ring finger. Your doctor assured you that swelling in hands and feet was common during pregnancy, but it still shocked you when you couldn’t wiggle your ring past your knuckle.

You called Harry in a panic, explaining tearfully that the ring was stuck on your finger.

“I’ll be home in thirty,” he consoled you. “Put some ice on it ‘til I get back, okay? Don’t worry about it, lovie. It will all work out.”

You followed his instructions, icing your inflamed finger diligently until he got home. Paying such close attention to your ring brought you back to the day Harry had proposed to you.

The sunlight streaming through the trees overhead and the sound of the water lapping at the shore was permanently etched in your mind. Harry had been so young, only twenty years old at the time of his proposal. Now he was almost thirty, and proud to be expecting his first child.

“I didn’t expect you to be home so soon,” you sniffled as he walked into the kitchen, scooping you out of your chair and into his lap.

“Neither did the cops,” he joked. “Let’s see your little finger. Did the ice help?”

You removed the wad of ice and soaked washcloths from your hand only to find your finger more swollen and purple than you had left it.

“Ouch,” Harry said softly, tracing his finger over the bruised skin. “It’s hot to the touch, dove. Is it painful to touch?”

You shook your head slowly, a wave of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes and onto your cheeks.

“Try to twist it off,” he suggested. “Slowly, gently, like a Chinese finger trap.”

You tried to twist the ring off fruitlessly, every ounce of hope in your body dwindling. Harry’s face twisted in dismay as it became obvious that the ring wasn’t budging.

He tried oiling the skin, icing it more, and even wrapping it with dental floss, but nothing could help the ring over your swollen knuckle.

You had never dreamed that the ring you grew to love and treasure so much would meet its end at the mercy of a jewelry saw at urgent care. It was of utmost importance to you because of all of the memories it held. Now it was just a severed stone and band in the bottom of a clear Ziplock bag that you gripped as if your life depended on it.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Harry murmured into your hair as you clutched the accessory to your chest and leaned into him for solace. “I’ll buy you another ring, whichever one you want.”

“But…” you stuttered, “it’s not the same.”

“You can keep this forever,” Harry said. “We can get the diamond changed into a necklace or even put on a different band.”

“It feels like a broken promise,” you argued. “I’m never without my wedding ring.”

“All you need is right here,” Harry finalized, tapping your chest ever so slightly. “You’ve got every part of me right there, forever and always.”

Taglist: @madybeth21 @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @groovychaosavenue @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze

[theres-no-escaping-us-pal]

JAVEY HEADCANNONS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pre-relationship:

literally obsessed with each other.

like, Davey can’t shut up about Jack to Les

and Les is js like “okay? 🤨”

and Jack can’t stop drawing at Davey.

it gives him an excuse to stare at him.

he tells everyone that Davey is just fun to draw.

and then everyone’s looking at him like “sure buddy, suuureeeee”

a lot of ‘accidental’ hand brushes.

and other acts of ‘accidental affection’ like shoulder brushes and thighs touching when they sit next to each other.

Davey was the first person Jack cried in front of (other than Crutchie, of course)

Crutchie, Race, and Albert have a bet going over who’s gonna confess to who.

“Racer- psst- Race!” “what?” “twenty bucks says Jack confesses to Davey.” “you’re on!”

every single one of the newsies understood what was going on between them before they did.

Crutchie was their biggest shipper.

overall it’s a lot of them being blushing, oblivious, idiots.

confession:

I feel like it could go one of two ways.

option 1: Jack plans a romantic confession on the rooftop and gives Davey a whole romantic speech before saying, “so, what do ya say, Dave?” and kissing him.

ORRRR

option 2: Davey sees Jack’s collection of drawings of him while he and Jack are on the rooftop.

and Davey’s like “so… what are these?”

and Jack gets all blushy and starts stuttering like “I-I- well… uhm… so, ya see… y’know… uhm….”

then Davey just grabs his collar and kisses him.

anyways, choose whichever one you like better.

when Jack tells Crutchie, he either goes “oh, hell yes! RACER!! YOU OWE ME TWENTY!!” or “GODDAMNIT!! YOU COULDN’T’VE JUST PLUCKED UP THE CORAGE TO DO IT YOURSELF!? DAMNIT, JACK! I’M DOWN TWENTY DOLLARS!”

either way, he’s super happy for them.

post-confession (boyfriends):

tried to hide it from the newsies at first cause they were scared they wouldn’t be supportive.

then, one day Race found them kissing and was kinda just like 😐 before yelling for the other newsies. (I might write this as a oneshot)

obviously all of them are supportive.

even the Delancey’s were when they found out.

they’d tease the fuck out of them but not in a homophobic way, just a more light hearted way.

Jack always has his arm around Davey’s shoulders/waist when they’re walking.

pulled Davey down to kiss him by the tie one time and Davey couldn’t stop blushing.

sometimes Jack stands on boxes/stairs or sits on a bunk when him and Davey kiss cause he likes to feel taller.

Davey always makes sure that Jack is fed.

even if it means he gives up his food for him.

like, Ethster packs lunches for Davey and Les.

but most of the time Davey just gives his to Jack to make sure he gets at least one good meal.

Davey always lies about eating a lot at breakfast so Jack won’t feel bad.

Davey holds Jack against his chest when they cuddle.

if they’re spooning, they argue over who’s the small spoon.

Jack wins most of the time.

Jack likes to kiss Davey’s nose, cheek, or forehead in public, but kisses on the lips are only in private.

Davey reads out loud to Jack while Jack draws.

Jack’s love language is definitely physical affection or words of affirmation and Davey’s is quality time followed closely by physical affection.

they’re incredibly domestic.

Crutchie will make gagging sounds whenever they’re being really coupley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in conclusion: Jack and Davey are perfect and if anyone disagrees they can fuck right off my page. ❤️❤️❤️

[throwaway-yandere]

Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast (Yandere!Wanderer & Pantalone/Reader)

Commissioned by: @leftdestiny-posts/@eternally-frozen (ilysm. Feel free to kill me later lmao)

unreliable synopsis: After being reassigned to Vanarana when your previous coworker became the Acting Grand Sage, with the help of Ararycan, you reunited met a wanderer on an abandoned machine. Unfortunately for someone, your childhood friend "Pantalone" has ears and eyes everywhere. (Avoid this fic if you’re not a fan of dark content. It’s not too dark but your mental health matters!) 

IMPORTANT NOTE: Please use the InteractiveFics extension and change “(Y/n)” to whatever name you want, “[Wanderer]” to his chosen name, and lastly, also change “(wood/salt)” to… whichever option you feel like. It’s a surprise mechanic *wink*. If you're reading this on a phone, just pick between wood or salt right now, keep your choice in mind and commit to it : )

Afterwards, would you be so kind as to answer this fun poll after reading the fic? Danke ♡

“Why doesn't Nara (Y/n) eat what Arasaka prepares for them? Does Nara (Y/n) lack appetite lately?”

“O-Oh, well, that’s…” You paused, looking down at the broth, “in all honesty, your cooking tastes bland…”

“H-Huh?!”

Time had passed since Lesser Lord Kusanali's official ascent to power and now is the fifth month since you first made friends with the Aranaras. Many events took place before you found your pyro vision becoming Arasaka's torch as they cooked– and if any of your coworkers saw you now, they probably wouldn’t identify you as Alhaitham’s (only) friend and Ex-Sage Azar’s lazy employee.

Maybe they would've if you helped Alhaitham and his teammates secure Sumeru’s future.

Sure, your name isn’t listed in the coup d’etat, but that’s only because you wished for the Akademiyan scholars to make the epiphany for themselves. As Azar’s ex-assistant, you laid low from projects as a prerequisite so that the populace may acquire a personality of their own to make the nation truly deserving of the title “Land of Wisdom.” 

Alas, that did not happen.

Alhaitham’s tactics were not wrong, but you felt like his group spoonfed Sumeru citizens with the Fatui’s crimes rather than having their own realizations. It did not feel like growth to you. It felt like the people casually learned from a one-sitting textbook rather than a hands-on experiment when they should’ve personally learned how minacious blind ambitions could be. In turn, he argued that your ideas were barbaric and that scholars revolting was not in the realm of possibility– hence, you did not lend your aid. Perhaps your inaction had pissed him off, but it’s more likely that he finds that sending you to Varanara was ideal for his workload. 

And in some strange domino effect, refraining from helping a coup d’etat meant eating the tasteless food known to man.

Since you were personally assigned a senseless task to patrol and report weather patterns in the area (which is unnecessary and quite frankly boring), you had befriended the infamous aranaras children from Port Ormos hear stories about. 

But the mundanity doesn’t hurt your pride as a graduate scholar. It's been fun so far.

“I'm sorry, 'Saka, it's just that I think your food lacks a bit of salt–"

"ASSISTANT (Y/N), THERE YOU ARE!!!"

Both of you flinched, causing Arasaka to topple over. The sound hurts. You snapped your neck towards the sound. An adventurer– Baharak– stood with both hands wrapped on her bag's shoulder straps with a silly grin on her face.  

… You’re turning the setting of your hearing aids down.

“Baharak, it’s been a while,” you spoke. “Would you mind not yelling whenever you call for me?”

“Oops– Sorry (Y/n)! I mean– sorry, Assistant (Y/n).”

Changing her volume doesn’t undo the pain she inflicted on your ears. Gently, you pushed Arasaka behind an elevated jag of root to cover them. To escape suspicion, you continued to stare at Baharak while feigning sleepiness.

“What are you here for?”

“The Forest Watcher received a letter addressed to you. The sender doesn’t have a name again, it just has the coin-seal thing.”

“Please hand it over.”

“Aight!– I mean, alright.”

After dismissing the loud adventurer and giving her spare mora as thanks, you waited until she was out of sight. Arasaka suddenly rose and jumped onto your lap, equally curious about what was written on the salt-scented parchment. Arasaka's preppy manner soon turned sour as they discovered who the sender was.

It’s a letter from your best friend, "Pantalone".

“Aww…” Arasaka whined. “Arasaka was hoping it was the Verdant Nara instead.”

You tore it open.

 

"My dearest, (Y/n),

If it's not too much to ask, may I trouble you to visit my office in Northland Bank soon? I merely wish to see you. Spending Lantern Rite alone this year was not a pleasant experience. It's just for a mere chat- I'll reimburse your traveling and dining expenses. Care to make it up to me?

Your beloved,

As per tradition, you threw the letter in the fireplace. Pantalone doesn’t like leaving a trail of evidence, naturally, you assumed the same applies here.

It's never a chore to visit a friend. Maybe you'll head there tomorrow–

“Arasaka doesn’t like Nara Pantalone.”

The aranara lowered their head, continuing, “Nara Pantalone reminds Arasaka of the Taste of Sadness.”

Cute. 

Every time Pantalone comes to visit, the aranaras behave like envious little siblings. Ever since you started patrolling Vanarana, the place had become the harbinger’s premiere leisure destination. The woods critters frequently tried to undermine his gifts, but they were adorably ineffective. Even if Pantalone cannot see them, the situation is nonetheless amusing.

If you remember correctly, the Taste of Sadness means salt to aranaras, right?

“Ah, well,” you laughed. “I guess you must be incredibly sensitive to his smell. He took quite a liking to salt-infused perfumes last year.”

“Don’t like perfume.”

“But I am wearing one though… Has the scent been bothering you all this time, Arasaka?”

“No, Arasaka was wrong. Arasaka likes perfume, and Arasaka hates salt. Taste of sadness. The scent of sadness.” 

“Oh, no! If Pantalone’s smell makes my dear Arasaka sad, then maybe we should drown him in Varunastra,” you chuckled darkly, expecting the aranara to react loudly over your out-of-pocket remark.

“Of course. Salt Nara would make for decent spare rations!”

You laughed out loud at Arasaka’s even more out-of-pocket reply. Out-of-pocket is an understatement, that comment straight up sounded out-of-the-CASKET. 

Before standing up, you ruffled Arasaka’s nonexistent hair like you would with your deceased sisters.

“I’ll come back in a few days, okay? In the meantime, why don’t you read a cookbook?”

“Hmph! Nara (Y/n), you’re being mean! Just wait! My sisters will make a dish Nara (Y/n) can’t say “no” to!” 

“It’s a dumb risk.”

“It’s a new business venture, dearest.”

“The market for new eyeglasses isn’t going to rise any time soon.”

“Why are you so adamant on opposing this idea?”

“Stagnation breeds putrefaction, especially in business, does it not?” You raised an eyebrow, preparing for a harangue. 

“Je suis d’accord!” The man spoke softly, accentuating his Fontaine pronunciation somewhat boastfully. Knowing your disability, he never raises his voice to the point of it hurting. “And it is precisely why I want to invest in an eyewear conglomerate in Sumeru.”

“Then why are you dropping your prior investments?!”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

You sighed, annoyed.

Pantalone is an amazing businessman, but without your council, he wouldn’t amount to who he is now. Unlike most people, “sneakily ambitious” are not the words you would describe your visionless friend. Such a moniker sounds insulting given his lack of celestial blessings and you know Celestia itself never took kindly towards his well-versed dirty tricks against his opponents.

In your humble opinion, the term “industrious” is a better-suited and less backhanded compliment for him.

You’ve known Pantalone— no— “██████” since childhood. Your history stretched back so much that you no longer recall the circumstances of how you befriended him. He acted as your ears when it came to haggling and normal day-to-day chores. As far as you know, he has always been an older brother to you. In times of extreme poverty, you both prayed and starved together, scraping by using salt rocks as entrees. 

There was no one else that made your deafness bearable except for him. With no family left, he was your only beacon of hope and dear Morax– you’d rather not remind yourself of the time your dead sisters mistakenly ate mud for rice cakes when famine struck.  

You chose Amurta out of the Six Great Schools for a reason:

You can’t afford to watch anyone die of hunger ever again.

When you began living in Sumeru, you had pledged your alliance with the region but never forgot all the toil you had to go through. As a malnourished child, you quickly fell in love with the nation. In Sumeru, healthcare was free– in Liyue? You heard nothing, and you wished that “advantage” doesn’t make you blind from the evil you witnessed in the slums. Poverty ate away your hearing, your family, and your childhood dreams… 

In a way, the only reason you see aranaras in the first place may be that you didn’t have the chance to experience any childlike wonder until you escaped Liyue.

Pantalone scoffed, “whether you agree with my financial decision or not doesn't affect my resolve. Do not press more about this, dearest.”

… But you’re convinced that your closest confidant “██████” had already perished from starvation long ago.

The man before you calls himself “Pantalone” nowadays and you lose all sense of indolence whenever his presence looms. When he watched your last sister perish in your arms, an epiphany gave birth to his cold demeanor towards deities. He found it challenging to worship the Archons who had no need for mora but were eager to take it away from destitute mortals who needed it as you and your sisters did. The death of your younger sibling was his final straw, and in a sense, you also buried your old friend that night. 

Unlike ██████, Pantalone cannot forgive nor trust the Archons for their broken promises. If Lesser Lord Kusanali had abandoned withered forests, Rex Lapis had abandoned those whose blood and tears cannot amount to any mora. You were only allowed to study at the Akademiya after he decided the former was the lesser evil.

Although Pantalone never condemns you for calling him by his birth name, you cannot tell yourself that he and ██████ are fully the same person. There is an unspoken need to straighten your posture and greet him with a semi-scowl to demonstrate your maturity despite him acting cozy and warm. Worse, his lax demeanor never ceases to remind you that despite his uncomfortable reputation, Pantalone is the only companion you’d entrust your soul to even when the world warns you not to deal a contract with the devil.

“You just want to use new brackets every day—”

“I am a businessman, love.”

You speared Pantalone with a pointed look.

“—And why Sumeru? Have you landed a deal with a reputable Amurtan optician? And why didn’t you ask ME first? You weren’t cornered by Dottore or the Tianquan to kickstart an eyeglasses company, were you?”

He scowled, unamused before firing back without skipping a beat. 

“Summer, seven years ago. You accidentally bought six bunraku puppets from Inazuma—”

Your eyes widened. Not this embarrassing anecdote again.

“Woah, woah! Now, why are YOU extorting me?”

“So you’d be silenced quicker.”

“…”

This reticence was slowly exasperating the harbinger, but he never utters a complaint when you're whom he's conversing with. Pantalone cleared his throat with an elegant smile. In that moment of cessation, you figured that he had a seemingly innocent proposal in mind.

“(Y/n), my most dearest baobei…” The harbinger ventured.

“Pantalone…”

He pulled out his desk drawer and ferreted out a parcel that you suspect contains a pair of glasses.

“Would you care to be a test sub—”

“No.”

You have a gut feeling as to where this is going. He’s going to propose that it’s “just” glasses until you find out he’s been using you to track or spy on someone without your knowledge. Classic Pantalone. You won't be duped by that TWICE in a row. If you knew better, you wouldn’t have accidentally leaked intel to the Fatui that Katheryne was being controlled by the Lord of Verdure. All because Pantalone hid a recorder on one of his “gifted” hearing aids...

Listen— just because you refused to lend a hand to the Archon when she was in need and was subsequently confronted by the 2nd harbinger in Sumeru City doesn’t mean you were colluding with these fools. 

You just wanted to remain neutral in any given situation. Unlike your childhood friend, politics bore you to death. And just like the Acting Grand Sage, you’re too lazy to act as a beta tester no matter how minimal the effort the task requires.

“I only ask that you wear this pair of glasses and test its comfortability.”

“I refuse.”

“We can negotiate how much mora you’ll earn—”

“Just stop.”

“Hmm, if I phrase it as a “gift”, would you accept—”

“Hell no.”

Pantalone paused.

“Hmm…” He tapped his desk, gazing at the paperwork neatly piled up.

“Word of advice, (Y/n), it’s highly probable that the price of cocoa will rise next week,” he shrugged. “That fact is, of course, most definitely unrelated to our current discussion.”

Is he… 

Is he threatening to generate chocolate inflation over a pair of glasses?!

You scoffed, eyes wide.

“██████, you worthless SCALPER.“

“The majority prefer to call me a ‘regrator’, but that new nickname is acceptable as long as it is you who makes such mildly unpleasant utterances.”

“GAH! You— YOU—” Even though he may completely ruin your usual routine of buying chocolates after work, it's difficult to curse him out. You have no choice but to spout illogical syllables without a valid clause. “JUST— YOU!!! YOU.”

Smack.

Upon hearing your facepalm resoundingly, he laughed uncontrollably, removing his glasses to wipe his eye with an uneven grin on his face. He tried to keep his composure but he kept snorting. 

You took a peek between your fingers. What a precious noise. You haven’t heard him laugh like this for over three years now.

At that moment, you thought ██████ was alive.

“F-Fine— give me those damn eyeglasses.”

Pantalone drifted the parcel above your palm until he quickly retracted it as soon as you reached forward.

“But before I do that, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it this time?” You groaned.

“Don’t lend it to anyone else, understand?” Pantalone slightly ruffled your hair. “I had it custom-made for you.”

You rolled your eyes, “that thing is definitely wiretapped. You’re not even bothering to hide it anymore.”

“Oh no, it’s not just that—” 

“Just that?”

He shrugged smugly, which was not a good sign. 

“The eyeglasses function similar to an Akasha Terminal, but of course, the information you’d find there is directly from my database.”

Pantalone opened the box and swiftly put the white-framed glasses on your face. He lightly tapped the frame—

and a control panel window flickered open.

Just like an Akasha.

“H-How on earth—”

“The Doctor and I had a deal. He’ll recreate at least 80% of a regular Akasha’s functions while I help him track down a few… crops. It’s a quid pro quo, I promise. It’s less of him exploiting me and more of me exploiting…— well, that doesn’t matter right now. C’mere, let me see your lovely face...”

Pantalone tilted your chin up with his thumb. His face was inches away from yours, and his piercing lilac eyes observed your glasses and what was behind them, calculating. His breathing was notably strained in a subconscious attempt to make you feel less uncomfortable from the position he trapped you in— ever the perfect gentleman— but you see his entire face flushed in a pinkish hue. A few seconds have passed, and you feel the glove pressed against you twitching. 

Pantalone pulled away, shoulders stiff.

His ears were red.

“I-It’s working as intended.”

If not for the nature of your relationship, you were close enough to kiss– an appealing notion for the harbinger, yet it is not a move he should bring himself to try.

“Y-Yeah, no kidding. That was awkward.”

He gripped his arm, looking at the window.

Pantalone is painfully aware you think of him as an older brother. Or at least, the shadow of one, given how you rarely call him by name anymore.

“My apologies, I simply wanted to take a good look at you.'

He muttered, “you’ve grown into a gorgeous person, (Y/n).”

You didn’t hear him.

“██████– I mean, Pantalone–”

“Go back to calling me ██████, dear.”

“Pantalone.” You put more emphasis on his harbinger name, watching in glee as he rolled his eyes, “I expect to be paid in chocolates and at least two months’ worth of food.”

Indeed, your proposed exchange pleased him. ██████ knows how much you value healthy eating and abhor it greatly when others waste grains of rice. Time and imagination had transformed his early memories as you as a human so close to a skeletal figurine with sunken cheeks and broomstick-like limbs. Those thoughts cause him much sorrow. Pantalone would have pampered you for free if you had only let him– seeing you eating healthy gives him life. Almost like how a father would tell his children that seeing them full is enough to make him full as well. 

Let him spoil you with food. Please.

Seeing you thin makes him feel sad.

“What do you want to eat for dinner later? My treat, as always.”

“Mint salad sounds lovely.”

“Just mint salad?” Pantalone smiled thinly.

His dearest baobei, no longer skin and bones. No longer barely fueled by rice and salt. No longer skipping meals. It warms his heart more than the exclusive springs offered to him because of his mora and title… But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

“Hmm… Would it be okay to request a plate of Triple-Layered Consommé?” You muttered, gazing at the floor. “I kind of miss your cooking… Just. Just kind of.”

His heart skipped a few beats as he saw your shy expression. 

You straightened up, coughing, “not that your cooking is anything special, it’s just that I don’t want to eat anything too bland and–”

“Of course! Anything for you, my love.”

Pantalone grabbed your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“My baobei, you’d be too full to walk once I’m done spoiling you…”

“D-Did you have to word it so seductively?!”

You blushed once again, which only served to worsen his urge for making you undeniably satiated. 

Oh, how he wants to keep you in a cage, locked up, and fed until he’s satisfied that you’ll never starve again…

Maybe then, you’d let him spoon-feed you like years before...

There's no rest for the wicked. When you returned to Vanarana the next day, the aranaras pulled you in for another chore at Devantaka Mountain.

“Hey, little man, get down there, right now!” 

You screamed with your hands cupped around your mouth to amplify your voice. The aforementioned "small man" scoffed, not shifting an inch from his posture, as the blue aranara crept up behind you.

Ararycan worriedly relayed that a “Wood Nara” had been trespassing the large abandoned Khaenri’ahn machine. The little vegetable-like creature had grown to trust you when it came to scaring off unwanted guests, which usually entailed eremites or treasure hoarders scavenging for scrap metal. 

“Ararycan wants to stop Wood Nara.”

You gently pried the wire off their hand, keeping it in your pocket in a very definite fashion. 

“I know, ‘Rycan, but Naras are stubborn beings.”

“Just like Nara (Y/n)?”

You gasped, eyes widened.

These plant-like beings are surprisingly masterful at the art of roasting.

 “Just like Nara (Y/n), you say?! Rude, Ararycan, rude.”

You laughed humorlessly, masking your jadedness with forced laughter. 

In all honesty, you’re inclined to believe that this job reassignment was Alhaitham’s way of punishing you for remaining neutral. But surprisingly? An Amurta alumnus like you have been enjoying the task and in no small part thanks to these silly little creatures.

It's absurd to imagine that you would consent to be pulled by these vegetable creatures. You initially believed that they were paracosms produced by a lack of stimulation. You once tried to ignore them. Regrettably, that frail facade didn't survive due to a couple of slip-ups. The first to catch you drawing their likenesses next to your weather reports was Arapas. The second was Arabalika, who overheard you whispering about how powerful they were after they defeated a ruin grader, and then Arama who heard you humming their songs. They’ve built up quite the case against you, and you had to fess up before they start giving you a hard time.

By “hard time”, you were referring to how a crowd of tumultuous aranaras huddled up and tugged your hearing aids’ wire with their teeny hands incessantly.

Which was what Ararycan is doing right now.

“Get us up there, Nara (Y/n).” 

"Careful, Rycan– you might damage the wire."

Suddenly, the hatted man's eyes widened after seeing you. Call it intuition, but it seemed like this total stranger knew who you were.

You made an exaggeratedly loud inhaling sound, turning off your hearing aids momentarily.

And then, a scream.

“STOP, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!! RIGHT!!! NOW!!!”

The difference between stupidity and bravery is measured by outcome, and neither are variables you wish for this “Wood Nara” to test out. Alhaitham would have you write two pages detailing an incident if the stranger broke something and eight more if the machine awakened. And sadly, you are only a small percent less lazy than that man.

Despite your words droning childishly, you made no move to approach him. His eyes sharpened, but you felt no scrutiny— 

This man you’ve never met wore a blatant look of disbelief.

You looked down.

Maybe he could see Ararycan…?

“Hey— can you see them?”

You swiftly swept Ararycan off the ground, who made a surprised yelp. 

The man winced.

"P-Please… Leave the forest alone…"

"And why should I care about your pathetic request?"

"Please, have mercy… T-There are creatures that live in this area… Creatures you cannot see because you lacked a human heart."

“–Ngh!”

Those memories were hard to swallow, like reading an inked sloppy handwriting submerged in water.

“G-Good riddance…”

The man coiled in pain, gripping his scalp with his lithe fingers. You cannot view the expression on his face, nor were you able to verify that he had yelped. The distance between you two was too great to conceive a communication that did not rely on shouting.

“Nara (Y/n), what are you doing?!”

Although your proximity with the aranara doesn’t cause any communication barriers, that didn’t stop Ararycan from yelling.

For some reason, the stranger flinched after seeing you carry what appeared to be air around “normal people”’s vision. Perhaps he found your actions cringe-inducing… or perhaps it made his migraine worse. Then again, both possibilities are not mutually exclusive. However, you have a feeling he didn’t flinch because he saw Ararycan.

The blue aranara leaped off of your hands.

“Ararycan is worried… Ararycan thinks Wood Nara is going to destroy the giant iron mountain…”

You stared up at the man again, wanting to go on for a long rant but refrained after realizing how immature that is. While you do have a hunch that the stranger possessed a vision, you’d bet mora that he is no match for Arabalika’s accumulated Ararakalari. 

“Say, why do you keep calling him Wood Nara? Is it because of his ginormous hat?” You whispered to Ararycan.

“Huh? Did Nara (Y/n) not notice?” They tilted their head.

“Ararycan calls him “Wood Nara” because he’s made of white wood. Ararycan is not sure if he is a real Nara.”

Their answer entered from one ear and exited in the other. You’re used to hearing the Aranara lexicon that you never take any sentence at face value since you’ve learned your lesson back when Arasaka made you scout the market for a “Taste of Happiness.” Thank the Lord of Verdure that it was only Pantalone who laughed at you for describing sugar as “white, cubic, crumbles when crushed, becomes sand, and can be eaten.”

“Hah, well, he better not be made out of wood 'cause I might burn him.”

“Ararycan doesn’t think that’s easy to do. Wood Nara smells like the taste of anger,” once again, you ignored their riddled words.

You clutched the pyro vision dangling in your cloak’s right shoulder, located opposite where Alhaitham places his. Your skill set does not differ from that dendro user’s repertoire, and you calculated what vertice you should drop upon teleporting. Grabbing Ararycan, you rushed forward...

Without making it past the one-minute mark, you leaped effortlessly to where the stranger stood.

“Excuse me, young man, but do you have an Investigation Charter from the Akademiya?”

With an unused voice when it comes to dishing out commands– much less an implied threat– your approach wasn’t even a fraction of what makes authorities like the General Mahamatra intimidating. Yet, you still tried. You crossed your arms and hovered your hand near your claymore.

This stranger gazed up, boasting his soft face and beautiful lilac eyes topped with a complexion quite like a sheltered princess. He had the finest eyes you had ever seen. Yet, even with a heaven-sent face, his eyebrows were knitted. He continued kneeling on the cold metal of the giant mossed and corroded machine. 

One closer look should’ve made you hyper-aware that his joints were not bound by mortal flesh, but your heart was more entranced by his glassy pupils. 

“We meet again. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.” 

He muttered inaudibly, hence, you did not hear him. Since you also just came back from visiting Liyue and their post-festival fireworks, you’ve turned your hearing aid settings lower than usual. You bent your knees slightly, offering a hand.

“Nana korobi ya oki,” you said. The stranger looked like he hailed from Inazuma, so you thought you’d put your knowledge to good use. “It means–”

Unbeknownst to you, you uttered the same thing in a past long forgotten.

“I know: fall down seven times, get up eight.”

His gloved hand grasped your own, and you tried not to think about how soft yet firm it was as you pulled him up. You grunted slightly from the shifted weight while he didn’t breathe at all.

“No, I don’t have any clearance permit,” he said. “And I still don't have a heart, if that still matters to you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

‘Still’? What the hell is he talking about? Aaru village is miles away from here, but is it possible that the man you’re talking to is a mad scholar? That’s concerning. 

Pushing your glasses farther up the bridge of your nose, you tried to search his face in Sumeru's records– which might be more unlawful than whatever this man's doing, but who's policing you anyways?

…

Nothing.

There's not a single official record on this man.

Not even in the Fatui's database.

Almost like the man in front of you doesn't exist.

"What the hell are you wearing?" The man sneered. "Since when did you have awful eyesight too?"

“No Investigation Charter, no clearance, just what do you think you’re doing here?” You digressed. “May I at least have your name?”

The man tilted his hat up, “and why should I stupidly give my information away?”

Your eye twitched. He kinda reminds you of Arabalika. Maybe if you gave him a cane he’ll calm down a bit.

“I do have a use for your name, awkward stranger.”

“And that is?”

Writing a report to the Acting Grand Sage regarding suspicious individuals.

“Something to call you,” you shrugged with a child-like candor, renewing your request with bold obstinacy. “I’d rather not recount this tale to various parties as That One Time An Awful Little Man Tried To Pry Open A Giant Machine And Failed.”

He exhaled curtly.

… Was that a laugh?

“How childish. Even if you don't know my name, your "friends"– assuming you have some– will remember me by that stupid description.”

“I mean, it's a memorable first impression,” you met his gaze smugly. “But why are you hiding your name, hmm? Suspicious.”

“It’s called respecting one’s privacy. Something you don't understand.”

How rude of him to make assumptions about you, “are you some covert government official?”

“No.”

“Then what? Are you some inhuman being?”

“...” He didn’t say a word.

Something tells you that the answer is close to your hunch.

“[Wanderer].”

He muttered, once again, you did not hear it so he spoke louder.

“That's my name. Don't you dare make me repeat it.”

“[Wanderer]…”

You missed the way he tipped his hat, hiding an uncontrollable smile from your view.

[Wanderer]... That does sound like a fitting name. It reminded you of a character from a franchise or mythological tale you thoroughly enjoyed as a teenager. It might be rude to share that information, though. You’re not certain how this bratty person would react upon hearing that his name might as well be the name of your lotus from a botany class.

Normally, [Wanderer] would snap a “speak up– is there something wrong with my name?” upon listening to hushed whispers or a resounding silence after his many introductions. But you’re different for a reason. 

There was no way in hell he would take the traveler's suggestion over a name you had given him.

Ararycan tugged your pants.

“Hey, don’t just stare at him, Nara (Y/n)! Tell him to leave!!!” Araycan trashed around. “Nara (Y/n) must be a brave Nara if you like the taste of anger.”

[Wanderer] is the taste of anger? Is that what Ararycan was trying to say?

You blushed, fake-coughing behind your hand.

You wouldn’t say he reminds you of the taste of anger– especially with that winsome face. If anything, his appearance looks a lot like the bunraku dolls you accidentally bought years ago.

“Well, [Wanderer], it’s nice to finally put a name to a face,” you said. “But this is a dangerous area. What are you doing here…?”

“I just wanted to look for traces of the Doctor,” [Wanderer] crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, I can’t pry this stupid machine open.”

“The Doctor? Who’s that?”

“The Harbinger who sits at the second–”

“Aah, The Outcast. I see–” you shook your head. “Wait, no, I don’t get it. What does he have anything to do with this machine here? This is a Khaenriah’n creation.” 

“I know, I’m not dumb like you. I'm here because The Doctor had plans for these automatons, that’s why I’m here.”

“But even so, it’s not advisable to wander these parts alone. You ought to have asked for a travel companion. Who knows if you run into a hoard of vanaagnis in marana?”

“Hmph. Do you think I can’t handle a few whooperflowers in a withering zone? The audacity.”

“Arrogance is the capital stock of misfortune– wait, how’d you know Vanaagnis is a term for whooperflowers?” You blinked expressively. “And the meaning of marana too– so you ARE a mad scholar.”

“I’m NOT,” [Wanderer] glared. You noticed how he seemed unimpressed when you mentioned that proverb about arrogance and “capital stock”, and his expression soured more when you accused him of being a lunatic. 

“I just… I just learned from the best.”

[Wanderer]'s stare not wavering away from you.

Your silence did not go unnoticed by the other two.

“...Why do I have a feeling you’re trying to say that you’ve learned from me?” Those words had escaped from your mouth before you could stop them.

[Wanderer]’s eyes widened.

“Can… Can you remember?”

“Remember…?”

He frowned, eyes reflecting his disappointment.

“No, no, it’s probably just a fluke,” [Wanderer] frowned with a finger tracing his lips. “Maybe my expression just gave it away…”

“Nara (Y/n)!!! Tell Wood Nara to leeaaaaveee!!!”

You tried not to flinch at Ararycan’s whining. They don’t seem to understand that having poor hearing doesn’t mean you can’t register their commands.

[Wanderer] walked past you. 

“Fine, I’ll leave this device alone, but on one condition.”

“What makes you think you’re the one in control–”

“Go out with me.”

“...”

“...”

“... What?”

Your eyeglasses flickered red.

But that red light was gone in a blink, you weren't even sure if it existed.

You laughed nervously, “sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly–”

He refused to meet your eyes like a coward.

[Wanderer] replied brusquely, “look– you're partially deaf, but you’re NOT stupid. You heard what I said, so own it.”

"Hold on– where is all this coming from, [Wanderer]?" You pivoted your heel but were too late to yank his sleeve. 

He already hovered a few feet away from you.

"I'll come to visit this place more often," [Wanderer] smirked. "You’ll still be here at the upcoming Festival, right? Mark your calendar. That’s our date.”

“Hey, you can’t just!– Aaand he’s gone.”

Despite his abrupt parting, you couldn’t help but smile over such a cheeky encounter, completely forgetting how that man rummaged through the giant machine you’re standing on without a permit.

Something tells you that you’d see him more often.

And you did.

“[Wanderer]” never failed to visit you at 10 AM sharp every day, until there was only one day left till the next Sumeru Festival. At first, you thought his eccentric personality would make the following days unbearable, but he was rather civil– just sharp-tongued. 

He would show up whenever you wandered in the forest to disseminate knowledge about the local flora and Sumeru's history. Some of them you already knew, while others had you wondering if he knew the Lord of Verdure. While you were trying to interview him for a report, not as a trespasser but as an assistant, you once purposely lightened the atmosphere to get honest responses from him. When you jokingly asked who he was, his reply was unsatisfactory.

“Who I am is not carved in wood nor stone. ᏕᎧᎷᏋᎧᏁᏋ wise told me that it’s a flexible concept and it’s easier to understand through a story, but even then, you’d only see a fraction of who that person is,” [Wanderer] peered dotingly. “If you wish to know who I am, then work for it. I’m not giving you a damn summary.”

Tomorrow is your first "date" with the man and you barely knew him.

Your internalized frustration made him think you’re insatiably adorable. 

How the tables have turned. 

After all, [Wanderer] only responded with the same answer you had given him before.

In a forgotten history, ᎩᎧᏬ were the one that spouts spontaneous philosophical questions that led him into fits of unintelligible musings. [Wanderer] berated humanity for being sentimental creatures yet look at him now, proudly boasting the name ᎩᎧᏬ gave him wherever he went. It is by no means grander than a title like God of Everlasting Eternity or other such monikers, but when Godhood has stripped away from him, that name provided more solace than a seat in Celestia.

“The Puppet”, “Kunikuzushi”– such utterances are water under the bridge. Only [Wanderer] stays afloat, like a bubble on water. Maybe a bubble is only beautiful for a moment, yet that moment weighs more than a meaningless “eternity” and he knows this well…

[Wanderer] had been played by fate. Attaining freedom, independence, and a vision did not absolve what chokehold you had on his synthetic being. 

You're a colorful character, averaging about five meaningful papers per year– all the while considering yourself a "retired" genius. [Wanderer] would've been a kinder and forgiving person if you were his young and impressionable self's creator. He envied your patients, your strange collection of bunraku dolls, and the tenderness you reserve for them. 

He missed you, no matter how often you both fought. Your hums used to enchant him when you lull him asleep with aranara songs, but they now haunt him up at night. You were his puppet and he was your dictator until you had grown exhausted of foreign power enough that you abandoned your neutrality and revolted. 

But you did not revolt against him in this revision. Without a doubt, his revised “past” still mirrored the pain he caused, but through other means. He can’t say he had no regrets when he tampered with the Irminsul. Niwa’s death had less weight in this world, and for the wanderer, death without sanctification for a significant purpose is unnecessary homicide. And instead of helping Azar’s experiment, you became a “disobedient pet” who saw no need to collaborate with his superiority complex.

Yet, despite being such a disobedient pet– in his opinion, that’s a grave understatement–, he can’t help but cherish you.

The puppet missed the way his delusion marked your body. Fingerprint-like blotches collared your neck before, but when the slate was wiped clean, so too did his inflicted bruises. He missed the way you begged him to stop the pain. He missed the way you defended invisible creatures as “Queen Aranyani’s successor.” He missed the way you begged to keep the forest safe.

He missed the way you begged to be his.

But those marks are long gone– the symbol he carved on the nape of your neck had disappeared. You no longer had anything that resembled signs of his ownership.

Not only that, but seeing you wear eyeglasses– something you haven't before– fills him with anger.

The one saving grace from this situation was when this timeline confirmed that you wouldn’t help Azar if it wasn’t for [Wanderer]. You were interested in his personality and disposition as a puppet longing for a human heart, not just any of Dottore’s run-of-the-mill creations. That observation surely boosted his ego. 

Your opinions mattered to him most in that project. Admittedly, he craved everyone’s veneration, even when they lacked true understanding.

But you were the first mortal that made him appreciate his defects…

 

"Is it so bad to live this way?" You combed his hair with your fingers. "Must you try your hand with such heresy?"

"Know your place," Scaramouche gritted his teeth. "You're nothing more than my maintenance worker- you do not deserve an audience."

"Be that as it may, future faux-god, can't you entertain me for just a moment? If I wasn't worried about you, I wouldn't be helping you with this damn treacherous experiment.

You ignored how he snarled at such a nickname, "it pains me to watch you lust for more power when you already boast an acceptable form. What is it that makes you so desperate? Is it because you can't hide the ball joints that connect your fingers and limbs?"

You continued while adjusting the tightness of his skeletal wrists.

"Is it so bad to live on as a defective being? Does imperfection invalidate a life's purpose? I only ask out of curiosity. I have imperfect ears, so does that make my life devoid of meaning?"

Scaramouche frowned, "do not compare your ears to my heart or lack thereof."

He didn't understand why his voice cracked. Scaramouche did not feel his usual temperament sizzling over but something heavy resided in his chest.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, I know you're not sorry," Scaramouche cupped your cheek, sporting an uncharacteristically loving smile.

"And your unapologetic behavior is what makes you my first sage."

His first sage…

[Wanderer] laughed to himself.

His first sage would know that if he gained a heart, he would've seen the aranara you were talking to earlier.

But this is fine. He can start over again. 

This time, he’ll make you love him normally.

Heaven, please help the white wood that fell in love for it will never be human…

…

Out of the blue, Scaramouche spun and hurled three consecutive wind blades toward the woods with precision.

Be that as it may, the walking salt is surely more pathetic.

The “trees” grunted, but [Wanderer] did not miss the smell of salt-infused perfumes.

What a shame. 

The next Sumeru Festival, your “date”, is tomorrow, yet there will always be those who lurk in the shadows to see the mighty fall. 

"Pantalone…" 

The ex-sixth harbinger snarled with unfathomable familiarity. Which was the complete opposite of the ninth harbinger, who coldly greeted him like a new enemy. 

"Good afternoon, [Wanderer]."

Pantalone pulled out a gun from his hidden holster.

"No hard feelings, sir," the businessman smiled thinly. "I am but a simple man eliminating a love rival. You see, it’s not nice threatening to steal someone’s possession."

Scaramouche cackled.

How annoying. He never liked this friend of yours– he much preferred the one that planned a coup. Pantalone was not a coworker Scaramouche liked, much less a rival. This ambitious man was always a parasite, pretending to be worried while threatening to withhold project funding behind your back. Scaramouche will never forget how he boasted insolently that he had known you longer as if eternity wouldn't be enough to make up for it.

"You never change, mortal," he laughed even harder. "I knew something was off about (Y/n)'s glasses!"

"Hmm? Is that so?" Pantalone pushed them up closer– reminding Scaramouche that he’s no terrible shot. "How strange. In any case, I quite frankly don't care what you know or do not know."

He pulled the trigger as Scaramouche stomped his feet.

Only a few knew what occurred in Vanarana that day, but there was one thing the forest remembered.

Before either of them parted, a loud bang echoed that even deaf trees can't miss.

You woke up from Araja’s house (which was the only comfortable place to sleep in Vanarana) after passing out from tumultuous loads of paperwork sent directly by the Baharak. She joked that at that point, maybe she had become a bad omen for you– and you confirmed her suspicions. The tasks the Acting Grand Sage laid out for you were taxing, if not, deleterious for your mental well-being, and worst of all–

He sent a notice that this would be your last week patrolling Vanarana.

When you spread the announcement, the aranaras were saddened by the news. Even Arabalika was unimpressed and asked if you can prolong your services. Alas, it can’t be refuted.

Noticing how tired you appeared, the village chief immediately commanded you to sleep while you pretended not to hear whispers of a surprise farewell party. Considering how the place looked positively empty this morning, you’d wager that they’re busy working on it.

But you do smell that someone’s cooking right now…

The enticing scent emanated from a large pot. As you sauntered closer, you noticed how Arasaka was tending to the food. The aranara gave you a friendly wave that you didn’t reciprocate. It’s rather chilly in Vanarana in the mornings– and the sleeves of your jacket were comfy. 

“Good morning, Nara (Y/n)!”

“Good morning, ‘Saka. That smells delicious,” you smiled bittersweetly.

“Hehe, really? Glad to hear it! One of Nara (Y/n)’s friends helped gather the ingredients. That Nara was good at hunting down prey!”

One of your friends…? You haven't introduced a lot of people to the aranaras. That can only mean it's either Baharak, Pantalone, or [Wanderer], and you can safely remove the first one since they're positively busy with guild matters. 

... Huh. But those two can't see aranaras. Does that mean they stole Pantalone or [Wanderer]'s game?

"Pfft..." You chortled. Yeah, imagining either of them getting confused as to why their hunted boar had gone missing feels like a sight to see.

You took the ladle from Arasaka’s hand and sipped the warm liquid.

…

“Oh, hey, this tastes pretty good!”

“Hehe, Arasaka is glad to hear you liked it! Nara taste buds are hard to please.”

You took another sip as Arasaka watched. The warm soup went down smoothly, but the aftertaste had a serpent-like bite to it. It tastes akin to red sorghums Pantalone would down whenever social drinking was inevitable. Your only critique was that it would’ve been a refreshing experience if there wasn’t a rocky object stuck between your teeth. You awkwardly picked it out.

… And saw a small hint of (wood/salt) between your fingers.

You stared at Arasaka.

Strange…

Something feels… off. 

This doesn't taste like happiness, it tastes like…

You shivered and yet the aranaras around you still had that same painted smile. 

 "Does Nara (Y/n) like the taste now? The taste of friendship?”

… Friendship?

No. That can’t be it.

The spoon splashed back into the bowl. You didn’t say a word, only stared at the boiling pot. You knelt, grabbing both handles to gaze upon the bubbling red liquid. With trembling hands, you picked the spoon back up and swirled the contents. Nothing was of note–

Until you scooped something from the very bottom and found thick strands of dark hair.

A very familiar strand of dark hair.

You adjusted your glasses in an attempt to find out where this human hair came from–

“Nara (Y/n) likes the scent of (wood/salt) Nara so my sisters added him in!” Arasaka innocently cheered.

Your heart dropped.

You turned pale– gagging.

No. It can't be.

Did you just eat…

“So, Nara (Y/n)– does our cooking taste bland now?”

… “him”?

“Oh, Nara (Y/n)’s friend is approaching! Don’t forget to thank him for the food!”

[dinocanid]

The voluntary/involuntary debate (-is making me lose my mind)

I don't see anyone saying this, but something being missed in the whole "therianthropy (and otherkinity) is completely involuntary!" conversation is that so much of the argument is overcorrection, and it's being treated as a binary when the lines are all grey. Which makes the constant back and forth feel very tiring.

First: context

10-ish years ago (even today in some crotchety circles), therianthropy-focused spaces were chomping at the bit to "weed out the fluff" due to the surrounding alt culture at the time (teen wolves) and the release of a few documentaries that many considered quite cringe-y and embarrassing. They went "oh god, we can't be associate with those weird people" and, while that wasn't the only contributor to the gatekeeping and grilling culture at the time, it was a significant one. So any new therians hoping to join communities were often grilled the hell out of, because people wanted to check if they were ""real"" therians and not those "fluffy teen werewolves" on TV. Therianthropy wasn't a game or a trend, it's a part of you, which is true. But "it's not a game" got bastardized into "it's involuntary" due to overcorrection and a lack of preserving nuance. Regardless if you think you were born a therian or if someone goes "I really want to be a [nonhuman animal]" and starts to embrace that identity, that's still therianthropy. "I want to be this, therefore I'm going to be this, and I am this" is still therianthropy.

This problem isn't unique to therianthropy either, "otherkinity must be involuntary" is also a result of overcorrection, more specifically due to the ableism and damage kinnie culture has done to the fictionkin community. Dragonheart Collective wrote a concise essay on this, so I will link that [right here] rather than repeat things, other than I have noticed "voluntary" be conflated with "kinnie" when it should not be. "Being kin isn't just relating to or liking something" got bastardized into "otherkinity is involuntary" by the community. Regardless if you think you were born otherkin or if someone goes "I really want to be a [character or nonhuman creature]" and starts to embrace that identity, that's still otherkinity "I want to be this, therefore I'm going to be this, and I am this" is still otherkinity.

Second: nuance.

No, involuntary doesn't inherently mean "it's a game". What counts as voluntary or involuntary is so blurry that a common conclusion can rarely even be reached on what it means. Things that have been seen considered voluntary:

Noticing the identity and choosing to embrace it versus shove it down and dismiss it

Waking up one day

Really wanting to be something and deciding to embrace it, versus dismissing it

Was born with the identity but picks and chooses which parts they prefer to focus on and explore

etc. along the above lines

And these are all perfectly fine ways of experiencing therianthropy and otherkinity, people have been having experiences like that for years. This is completely normal and nothing new and it's so tiring seeing people point fingers at places that these things didn't even come from, like TikTok.

"But what about linking then?"

This debate is much older than "-linking" terminology, which in and of itself is a product of this very debate. People made new words because so many were arguing if someone's identity is real if it originates in a particular way. This doesn't change how "-link" terminology should be used today, but it is worth noting that those are perfectly normal ways to experience otherkinity and therianthropy even if these other terms exist. It means you can use whichever personally feels best to you. It does not mean that people need to be shoved out of the non-link labels.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Can I make a angsty hurt/comfort request ?

Okay, so it’s like male!reader who’s a father to a kid, and he has the team over for dinner after a case.

Then his kid decides to come out to him by saying like “I’m gay, I like the same gender” or whatever (but obviously not like that but similar??)

And then reader goes like “you’re not gay, silly! Everyone likes the same gender a little bit! Maybe even more than the opposite gender!” But could you please add this dialogue in because I think it would be funny!! And he’s like: “I sometimes fantasise about being in a relationship/having sex (whichever you want to write) with your friend’s dad, but that doesn’t mean I’m gay!”

And the team and his kid look at him with shock/horror/confusion and he’s just standing there like… “what..? 😅” because he actually thinks this (his parents were homophobic and took him to conversion therapy when he asked if everyone like the same gender in that way)

Then someone from the team takes his kid out of the room to tell them that they’re valid and stuff and the rest of the team explain to reader that no, not everyone likes the same gender and that he might need to try and discover himself.

Plus whatever else you want!! Happy or sad ending is up to you!! (I think happy would be nice but maybe it can be a sad ending and a part two ??)

No pressure!! This is all up to you and you don’t even have to write it!!!

Love you !!!

- 🎀

Hiya, thank you for sending this in, this is an amazing idea! I hope I've done it justice (and sorry it's taken me so long)

Warnings: homophobia, internal homophobia (saying these just in case)

"I, um, I wanted to tell you all something." You watched as your son, Ethan shifts nervously for a moment. "I'm gay."

You shake your head, "No, you're not." And just like that, everyone around you freezes. "Everyone has a crush on the same gender." You wave your hand, dismissing him.

Ethan's face drops slightly, pushing the food on his plate around with his fork. "Look, I'm just saying it's normal to like the same gender, even more than the opposite gender. Take me, for example, I have crushes on men all the time. Like your friend Nathan, his dad? I have thoughts all the time about how I'd want to be in a relationship with him. That doesn't make me gay."

You look around, sensing everyone's eyes on you. A variety of different emotions are going around the table, shock, horror, disbelief, hurt.

"What?" You ask, taking another bite of pasta.

Garcia looks at Ethan, "Come on, let's step out for a minute," She gives him a kind smile and they both leave the room, Reid following them.

You look at the remaining members of the team, "What?"

"You know that's not true, right?"

"What's not true?"

"Not everyone is attracted to the same sex," Morgan said, you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, Morgan, they are." You shrugged, "Ethan's just confused. He'll come to terms with it."

"I don't think Ethan's the one who's confused." Prentiss chimed.

"What do you mean?" You ask, giving a soft scoff. "Of course he is."

"I think you're confused." Reid spoke up.

"Everyone has those thoughts." You stated.

"No, they haven't." Morgan argued, "I have never once found another man attractive."

"Not one?" You asked, finding that hard to believe.

"No."

You blinked. None of thise made any sense. "You're joking, you've got to be."

"What makes you think it's normal?"

"When I told my parents about it, that's what they said."

"They told you that?" Prentiss asked, sharing a look with Morgan.

"Yeah," You nodded. "So, I carried on with my life. And Ethan will do the same."

Morgan frowned, before sighing. "It's not something everyone thinks or feels, (Y/N)." He paused.

"Wait. No, hold on." You said, rubbing a hand over your face. "Does that mean that-?"

When you don't finish the sentence, Prentiss does for you. "That you like men?"

"Yeah." You said awkwardly at the question.

"Probably." Was her response.

You frowned. That quite literally went against everything you thought you knew about yourself. Your relationship with Ethan's mum before you separated, as well as every relationship with a woman ever. As well as the bond you had felt growing up with your best friend.

"That changes things." You said, blinking slowly. "I should probably go speak to Ethan."

The team gave soft nods and you headed out into the lounge, where Ethan was, leaning against Garcia, eyes red with Reid on his left. Your heart sank, you looked a lot like that after the conversation with your parents actually. You swallowed, trying to ignore the twinge in your stomach at the thought of passing this confusion onto your son as your parents had you.

"Ethan?" You asked softly, he looked up, quick to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Can I speak to you quickly?"

He only nods when Penelope squeezes his hand in reassurance. "We can stay here, if you want." She says to him softly, and he nods again.

You swallow heavily once again. "I'm sorry." You stated, carefully sitting in the seat opposite him. "I... I wasn't aware that it wasn't something everyone experienced. I repeated what my parents told me and in doing so, I hurt you."

Ethan watches you for a second. "It's not your fault-"

"You don't need to try to make me feel better kid." You said, "I told you what they told me, and in doing so, I invalidated you and your feelings. I dismissed you, and that's not okay."

When he opens his mouth to argue, you give him a firm look and he sighs slightly. "But you also didn't know any better."

"I should have." You reminded, "But I do now. So, I'm so sorry for how I reacted. And I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about it, and I'm sorry my original reaction wasn't what you were expecting, or what you deserved."

"That's okay dad," Ethan smiled, a split second passed. "So, Nathan's dad, huh?"

"I will ground you."

"That's a hate crime."

[shiorimakibawrites]

Hi Shiori!! Can I request a “Grab Your Tissues” for either Matt or Frank? Whoever you’re feeling more for the prompt: “I can’t sleep”

Hi Sapph! I hope you enjoy this (as well as your trip!)

Tags/Warnings: Insomnia, Low self-esteem, Mention of Stick, Referenced child abandonment Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza

Can’t Sleep

Matt couldn’t sleep.

Not an unusual occurrence for him. His sleep schedule was terrible. Had been for years. Ever since the accident. Even with Stick’s training, he couldn’t seem to shut out the world enough to sleep sometimes. Tonight was one of those nights.

It seemed like every little sound in this building kept drilling into his ears. Foggy’s snores. People talking in the rec room. Other students in their dorms having sex or arguing. Or in the case of Jimmy and Amanda two floors up, both at the same time. People watching a movie or listening to music. The buzz of the lights, the rattling of the pipes, the flushing of toilets. The list went on and on. All perfectly normal sounds, typical for the student hall at night. No one was being particularly loud but for some reason Matt just couldn’t tune it out.

It didn’t help that his bed was uncomfortable. The laundry service had gotten backed up. So when Matt had accidentally spilled dinner all over his sheets, he didn’t have any fresh ones to put on. Foggy immediately offered his spare set so Matt wouldn’t have to sleep on a bare mattress until he got his spare sheets back. Or dirty ones got washed. Whichever came first.

Matt appreciated it. Really he did. Foggy was a good friend. A better friend that someone like him deserved. But all the gratitude in the world wouldn’t change that these cotton-poly blend sheets felt like sandpaper on his skin.

He was out of practice ignoring the sensation. He had gotten used to silk. He could hear Stick calling him a pussy for allowing himself to become so dependent on something like silk sheets. And maybe he was right. But it had been so nice, being comfortable while he slept, for the first time since the accident. He had thanked God for leading him to that girl’s bed during his first semester. Her silk sheets had been a revelation. So much of one that Matt had taken some of his precious cash and immediately bought two sets.

Foggy had teased him about it a little, joking that he was turning their dorm room into a brothel. They ended up pondering the logistics of such a venture, one of those bizarre yet thoroughly entertaining conversations he often had with Foggy. Sometimes it felt like he could tell Foggy anything.

Matt rolled over, trying to find a less uncomfortable spot. Another reason he couldn’t sleep. A debate weighed heavily on his mind. An argument he had been having with himself for months. Should he tell Foggy about his senses? His training? What really happened the night Elektra dumped him?

He wanted to. Sometimes it was all he could do to keep it behind his teeth. To only give the barest of hints, hoping that Foggy would pick up them. Put two and two together. It was possible. Foggy was a smart guy. Far smarter than he liked to give himself credit for. Sometimes it seemed like he had, from some of his questions.

But another, equally powerful part of his mind, dreaded Foggy learning those things. That Hey buddy would transform into Get away from me freak.

No matter how many times Matt tried to tell himself that Foggy wasn’t like that. He wasn’t cruel. Convince himself that Foggy wouldn’t reject him for his abilities. Remember how Foggy had gotten in people’s faces for being homophobic or racist or any number of things. He had protested bills targeting mutants. Every logical part of his brain said telling Foggy was safe.

And yet the terror remained. The knowledge that he was so awful that even as a baby, his own mother couldn’t stand him. The phantom sound of Stick’s retreating footstep clogged his ears. The ghost of Elektra’s perfume and that man’s blood filled his nose. All of it froze his tongue in his mouth. Seized his jaw in crushing grip.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk losing his friend. Matt was too weak. He needed that connection, craved the easy affection Foggy gave him as easy as breathing. He couldn’t lose it. He couldn’t . . .

“Matt?”

Matt started. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard Foggy wake up. Or sit up for that matter.

“Hey Foggy,” he said. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Foggy said. “It’s 3 AM.”

Matt shifted so he was facing the direction of Foggy’s bed. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why? Bad dreams?”

“Nah . . . just worried about that final in Dr. White’s class,” Matt answered. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Buddy, you shouldn’t be worried about that. You got that philosophy junk backwards and forwards.”

“It’s not junk,” Matt retorted automatically, sitting up himself when he heard Foggy moving. Getting up. “What are you doing?”

“Grabbing my laptop,” Foggy said. “Since neither of us can sleep, we’re watching a movie.”

“You were sleeping just fine.”

“Oh contraire mon ami, I was as restless as you were. You ain’t the only one worried about finals.” Foggy said. It was a lie. Matt didn’t need to hear the little skip in his heart to know that. And yet . . .

“What movie?”

“Do you really have to ask? The Princess Bride.”

“Haven’t you seen it a million times?”

“And I’ll see it a million and one.”

Matt let it go. It wasn’t worth arguing with Foggy about it. He recognized that tone. Besides he liked The Princess Bride. Listening to it one more time wouldn’t hurt.

[cherrari]

TRICK OR TREAT MINAH do you have more chalex <3

they're lesbians. surprise

This isn’t the first time they’re being corralled pre-race into some silly PR stuff, and it won’t be the last. Alex expected it the moment she read the headline saying Charles would be moving up that year. Two girls on the grid—two talented girls on the grid—was unprecedented. Hell, if Alex were a marketing intern, she’d milk the shit out of them too.

That doesn’t mean she has to like it, though.

“You’ll be playing against—oh, here they are now,” the staff member begins, and is promptly cut off by Charles’ gasp.

“Antonio!” she shouts, clapping Antonio on the back. He flushes slightly, but manages to get a greeting out before she launches into hasty Italian. 

Behind him, Artur waves at Alex. Alex waves back.

“Ferrari drivers, am I right?” Alex jokes. Artur only makes a noncommittal noise back, his eyes shifting back towards Charles every few seconds.

Alex can’t help but snort at how obvious he is. The staff member waits patiently off to the side as Antonio and Charles chat; Charles is loud, all dramatic hand movements as she discusses what Alex imagines is her earlier wall tap, judging by the sound effects she makes. Antonio laughs at that, which makes Charles laugh even more, and something in Alex sours.

“The game?” Alex prompts, nodding to the staff member.

“Oh, yes!” She stands up straighter and herds Charles back in Alex’s direction. Charles falls into line without complaint, and Alex soon feels Charles’ eyes bearing into the side of her face again. “Okay, so as I was saying, you guys will be split into teams and…”

The game is simple. She’ll ask them a question and they’ll have to write down their answer. Whichever pair has the most matching answers wins. 

Charles’ face scrunches up. “We are going to do terribly,” she grumbles. 

“No faith,” Alex says, but she privately agrees. She doesn’t know how much she and Charles have in common, other than being girls, but it can’t be much. 

“If only our partners were swapped,” Charles laments, picking up her whiteboard.

“You each need to pick a team name too,” the staff member says. “Pick while I set up the camera.”

Alex is content to let Charles decide, and decide Charles does: “Let’s be… Team Guys.” 

“Team Guys,” Alex repeats in a deadpan. “Is that a French word?”

“No, no. Like, Team Men. Guys,” Charles repeats, with emphasis, as if that makes any more sense. “Since we both have guy names. It is about the irony.”

Alex’s head whips around, and she makes proper eye contact with Charles for the first time that day. “Excuse me, I do not have a guy name,” she huffs. “And neither do you.” 

Charles’ real name is Charlotte. Everyone knows this. The Sharl comes from the first syllable. It’s easier to say in a hurry.

Charles pouts, hugging the whiteboard to her chest. “My male cousin is named Alex, you know,” she argues.

“Alexander, probably.”

“No,” Charles says, stubborn. “Just Alex.”

Alex rolls her eyes. The last thing she needs—or wants, really—is to draw more attention to how she’s not a guy. It’s an objectively stupid name anyway. Everybody already knows why they’ve been paired up.

“No, Charles.” She uses the name to soften the blow, but keeps her voice firm. “Let’s just use… I don’t know. Team Art.”

“Team Art,” Charles repeats, like the very word makes her sick. “Fine.”

She’s sulky for all of five seconds before the staff member calls for their attention and she brightens back up. Alex finds it impressive how quickly she can move on from disappointment. She’s never seen her sad for more than a few minutes.

To Alex’s private relief, Artur and Antonio pick Team Trident as their name. It sounds better because of the alliteration, but it’s objectively just as uninspired as theirs.

The game proceeds smoothly enough, and by that, she means it goes exactly how Charles predicted: terribly.

Favourite season to race in? Charles says spring. Alex says fall.

Favourite Italian food? Charles says pizza. Alex says pasta.

Favourite track on the calendar this year? Charles says Monza. Alex says Silverstone. To be fair, they would’ve never agreed on this one even if they were given a thousand retries.

The end result is a total demolition. 9-2 in the Trident’s favour. Charles buries her head in her hands when she sees the prize: a signed Sebastian Vettel driver card. Originals, not photocopies.

“You’re going to be driving with him in a few years anyway,” Alex consoles her, patting her back. “I’m sure he’ll give you all the signed driver cards you want then.”

“I did not want it for me,” Charles huffs, then adds matter-of-factly, “My brother is also a Ferrari fan, you know.”

“Of course,” Alex says, and notes how unsubtly Charles dodged the rest of her comment.

[airlock]

dunno if anyone's caught it in the air around me lately -- I'm kind of frustrated with the state of transfeminism.

I honestly hesitate to call it that. I've seen no shortage of people who keep appointing themselves as such when all they really do under that banner is engage in horrifying acts of transmisogyny, garden-variety transphobia, and general in-group forming.

don't get me wrong though; I'm not here to argue against the reality of transmisogyny. if anything, I feel more keenly aware of it than some of the people who bang on that drum constantly.

I'm sick of being lectured and called "uneducated" when I have disagreements, as if academia has now cracked all the answers to LGBT issues and I ought to just shut up and fall in line. I'm sick of being called self-hating and condescended to by people who can't imagine that I may have opinions that are based on my own principles, least of all by people who openly admit that they do not have opinions that are based on their own principles. I'm sick of seeing people undermine discussions about the shitty assumptions that people make of trans women by fully resembling the remarks in question and having the gall to act like being treated accordingly is just transmisogyny. I'm sick of people who flip-flop between acting like the true boddhisatvas of transfemininity and the victims of excessive wokeness as befits whichever narrative makes them right and everyone else prejudicious at a given time. I'm sick of this talk of "systemic issues, not individual issues" that turns into smoke the second it becomes about deciding who is or isn't allowed at the table. I'm sick of idpol being touted as the critterion that decides who is or isn't allowed at the table, but people who aren't transfem can say and do whatever they want as long as you agree with it (because they're standing up for us, you see! we need people to stand up for us even against ourselves), whereas transfem people who don't totally dance to the party line are suddenly fair game to remind that they too can be transmisogynistic. I'm sick of how some transfem experiences are just individual and dismissable, while others are collective and systematic and the true canon, and the distinguishing line between these things is nothing but the designated in-group.

and above absolutely anything else, I am beyond sick of watching transfems get dogpiled and scrutinized by transfems who complain about being dogpiled and scrutinized.

it's rare that this sort of thing should get me this heated. I don't exceptionally begrudge people who """should know better""" engaging in prejudice, not really. firstly, because that'd be holding them to a higher standard than people with greater privileges, which is all backwards; secondly, because in any case I choose my allies based on their actions and not their identity, anyway. nonetheless, I think it just really makes me want to vomit when people invoke my name, claim that it's for my benefit, when they get to arguing that it's fine to call people theyfabs. all the moreso when they make no secret of how eager they are to socially isolate me if I refuse to accept that.

and you know what? I ought to extend the favor that I expect. I will miss some of y'all with false talk of trans sisterhood. I, for my part, fully accept any accusations of being divisive, because I am. I'm a radical inclusionist. I do not break bread with harassers, I do not break bread with people who argue in my name against the reality of the transphobia that others experience as if it's a matter of turnabout, and I do not break bread with people who, emboldened by their bubbles, speak over me.

I hope you'll not begrudge me talking about my intracommunity issues without some scalene reminder that I don't like transmasc terfs either. at the rate things seem to be going lately, I hope there are transfems left around here that I could still get along with if I draw this line in the sand. I hope it's even possible for some us to get along even if we don't agree every last part of this, or other matters of transfeminism (I am ambivalent on the "tma/tme" thing for example if that's a point of concern); set your own prequisites for that, but all I ask is not to be treated like shit, based on the golden rule if nothing else.

[acediaedeus]

this does contain them sweet

SPOILERS

what I find really upsetting about Ichigo’s dynamic with his friends/family/mentors is how they treat the fact that he’s part-Hollow. especially when it comes to the Visored and Orihime.

bc yeah, the Visored did struggle with their Hollows, bc they already lived hundreds of years without that aspect. they were comfortable with their shinigami existence, but then this hollowfication bullshit drops on their heads and suddenly they’re not only barely in control of themselves, constantly in a fight with an inner “demon”, but also there’s no one to support them AND they’re getting fucking exiled and then they exist as this tightly knit community of eight for a fucking century with no one to understand them but each other. I’d hate the Hollow in me too, probably.

BUT, then there’s this fresh guy, that hasn’t accepted the fact that he’s now an amalgamation of a million different things, including something that he has been told he has to fight and exterminate, that they have to teach to manage the hollowfication bullshit™️ so what do we do? correct, scare the shit out of him and present existing with a Hollow as amensalism (one is harmed, one is unaffected) or parasitism (one benefits, one is harmed) when it’s more like commensalism (one benefits, one is unaffected), in which the shinigami is clearly the one who’s benefiting from this.

(although we could argue that for the Visored this is a symbiotic relationship in which both are getting harmed, but even then the shinigami still gains benefit and the Hollow gets nothing but hatred, so like, fuck them, lol (I’m advocating for inner-Hollow rights 💀🙏🏻)).

biology lesson out of the way, they essentially do not teach Ichigo anything that would bring long-term benefits (we see this when Ichigo is unable to complete his training with Squad 0, bc he has no fucking idea who Zangetsu (or he himself) actually is (this is, of course, in part his quincy power’s doing, but I wouldn’t say his supposed “mentors” helped much).

in conclusion what does Ichigo get out of this? self-hatred and the habit to suppress what is, whichever way you look at it, a big part of his being, thus blocking himself and Zangetsu from reaching their full potential.

but I guess you can’t teach lessons you haven’t learnt yourself, so there is that with the Visored.

now onto my dear Orihime, who I love dearly (this is a disclaimer). for someone who, supposedly, loves Ichigo more than anything and who we have to take seriously as not only just a potential love-interest, but the actual, one-and-only lover, she is a little bit too scared of Ichigo.

this, of course, for me, begs the question of how am I supposed to accept a love-interest who is consistently terrified of the mc? not a single battle with Orihime present (and Ichigo using the mask) without her shaking in fear and having to be reminded by others (who have known him for much less time than she has), that not only is it still Ichigo in front of her, but he’s also fighting and pulling out the mask he himself doesn’t like much, in order to protect her.

it’s plain and simple upsetting how there’s absolutely no one to accept and embrace the essence of Kurosaki Ichigo. everyone around him wants the shinigami and human in him, no one is interested in the Hollow (except for *ahem* Grimmjow *ahem*), all they do is reject and cower and isn’t that fucking hypocritical after hiding behind his back and begging him to save them?

everyone around Ichigo just really pisses me off with their constant whining. I feel like the only ones who love and cherish Ichigo for the absolute gem of a person he is are Chad and the fucking Arrancars 💀🙏🏻

as I mentioned in the ALT to the last photo in this parade of idiocy: trying to separate and think of Hollow Ichigo and Ichigo as two different entities is crazy and delusional behaviour, bc we have been told countless times, that a person’s inner Hollow is a manifestation of all repressed emotions and traits that they view as unsavoury. which for Ichigo happened to be aggression, cruelty, being merciless and thirst for bloody battles.

let me remind everyone that you cannot truly love a person w/o accepting and acknowledging all their flaws (including yourself).

this is not me trying to say Orihime doesn’t love Ichigo, it’s not really about the characters, more so the writing. I am actively trying to square up with Tite Kubo. for many reasons, but this is one of the ones I pay most attention to.

Ichigo is someone who is in perfect control of himself, who protects no matter what, bc even when he turned into the vasto lorde (after getting his heart ripped out of his chest) it was all his Hollow, yet it still carried out the mission of protection seamlessly, that’s how strong his will is. Kurosaki Ichigo deserves ppl who actually love him around, thank you.

thanks for coming to this ted talk, love y’all!

[phoenixyfriend]

Shadow and Mirror

Read on AO3, written for this prompt

Cody has a new crush.

Well, a “crush” implies something much more childish than the point he’s reached in his life.

Cody has… felt a connection and really hit it off with someone he finds reasonably attractive.

His brothers are being less than supportive.

“He is my Jedi and one of my best friends,” Rex says, “but I just… for both your sakes, life will be so much easier if you don’t go for it.”

Cody is unfazed. “You do remember he was my Jedi Commander before he got promoted and took you with him, right? I know what he’s like, and I’m into it.”

Rex makes a face. “Uh, all due respect, Cody—”

Oh, this bitch.

“—but he’s changed in some pretty big ways since he split from Kenobi.”

“So’ve I.”

This earns him an eyeroll. “Yes, yes, you’ve discovered your romantic charisma and started charming the pants off of any sentient you encounter on leave. You do realize that’s part of the problem?”

“That I have game?”

“Skywalker doesn’t do casual,” Rex insists. “Open, maybe, if you talk about it, but he doesn’t do casual.”

After a moment of consideration, Cody shrugs. “I can work with that.”

“Can you?” Rex challenges. “Can you really deal with the full force of Anakin’s attention? With him losing his entire mind if you get hurt, and calling you up at three in the morning to chat, and promising you the galaxy in a bunch of flowery words that should be hyperbole, but really, really worryingly sounds literal and sincere?”

“…did you try dating him?”

“No, but I was there basically every time he hung with Amidala, and that shit continued past the point where he gave up on romantic seduction and settled into friendship,” Rex says, more of a grumpy complaint than anything, “and she’s just as weird as he is when it comes to all that, so it’s no skin off her back to match his energy, but you are not on their level.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying,” Rex grits out from between clenched teeth, “that you like to have fun, and Anakin likes to dedicate every morsel of crazy knocking around his brain to whichever poor soul ended up in his affections.”

“I feel like insulting your CO that much is grounds for a court martial.”

“Echo told him, to his face, that he occasionally seemed crazy as a bag of tooka kits and about as hinged as a sliding door. General Skywalker took a second to process, and then laughed. He doesn’t care, not if it’s from a friend.”

Cody hums. “Which you are.”

“Yes.”

“Enough to warn me away before I break his heart?” Cody asks. Rex looks away, and Cody can only chuckle. “You’re not that subtle, Rex.”

“I’m trying to make sure you do what’s best for both of you,” Rex insists, glancing at Cody for only a moment before breaking eye contact again, “so Anakin doesn’t get disappointed, and so you’re not walking in blind when it comes to him being… the most.”

Cody snorts. “I can handle Skywalker, Rex. I may not be a Jedi or a Senator, but I can handle one brat with a smart mouth, a bad attitude, and a couple of super-powers.”

Rex grimaces. “I mean… it’s not really… that simple. The Force stuff, I mean.”

There’s something a little odd to Rex’s voice with that one, more than just the weird pauses. Cody doesn’t dismiss it quite as easily as he might have. Instead, he carefully asks, “the whole ‘Chosen’ thing some of the Shinies were gossiping about? Kenobi said it was an old superstition more than anything, a metaphor taken too literally, and that even the Jedi argue about it.”

“When?”

Cody’s expression must speak for him, because Rex clarifies without prompting.

“When did Kenobi say that?”

Cody looks past him at the wall, frowning as he thinks. Rex waits, and doesn’t take it too personally; they know each other too well for that. Finally, Cody shrugs. “A couple months in. Skywalker was still a Jedi Commander with the 212th.”

“So, before Mortis.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “This has to do with that shitshow?”

Rex looks uncomfortable. “You… aren’t 501st.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well… Kenobi didn’t get possessed. Or channel a god. He just used an extra weird lightsaber for a bit.”

Cody gives it a few moments, and then finally says, “Rex.”

His brother continues to look uncomfortable.

“What did that place do to Skywalker and Tano?”

(Continue on AO3)

[destinygoldenstar]

The Amazing Digital Circus Episode 3 - "As Iron Sharpens Iron-"

To say I was excited for this Episode to come out is an UNDERSTATEMENT.

Ever since Episode 2 PROVED it to me that this show was going to be something very special to me, I've been very invested and eagerly waiting the next installment.

This also marks the FIRST Digital Circus Episode where I CAUGHT THE PREMIERE.

I didn't see the Pilot until a month after it came out because I didn't know about the show. And Episode 2 I was at work at the same time of the release. I had a nerve-wrecking day.

But this time I CAUGHT IT, AND I COULDN'T BE HAPPIER TO.

So I was excited, especially when it was hyped up as the best episode so far!!!

...

IT WASN'T, BUT I STILL REALLY LOVED IT.

Yeah... I said it. I will be the first to say this:

As of right now, this is my least favorite episode.

NOW HOLD ON, THAT IN NO WAY MEANS I DISLIKED IT. THIS EPISODE IS GREAT.

Which should really tell you the quality of this show.

This IS a review based off a first viewing, so be aware of that. Y'all know I'm gonna rewatch this multiple times. So maybe my problems will become less problems.

I also CANNOT WAIT to see all the Angry Karens raging on the Internet about the show! "THIS CARTOON IS TOO DARK AND SCARY FOR MY CHILDREN!! I OUGHTA SUE YA GLITCH!!"

To that I'll say "F%#K YOUR KIDS, CARTOONS ARE FOR EVERYONE!!" (No I won't, but you get the message)

You want a kid friendly haunted mansion episode, NINJAGO SEASON 5 GOT YOU COVERED. (One of the best episodes in that show btw)

I would argue the circus tent is a lot scarier than a haunted mansion, but whatever.

But I do need to explain WHY I find this episode the weakest, and also gush over the good stuff cause there IS good stuff.

So I need to get into spoilers:

I've complained before in the previous two episodes that the B Plots were my least favorite thing about this show. They weren't bad, they just didn't grasp me like the A Plots did (AKA whichever plot Pomni has going on).

But I was really looking forward to them fixing this issue with this episode, especially to aid the characterization of Zooble. A character that has been very neglected. I was expecting this therapy session with Caine to be both chaotic (Because it's Caine) and inciting.

Did it deliver with that??

Yes AND No.

Technically, YES, it was inciting and we learned more about Zooble. They're not straight. They have dysphoria. They're very uncomfortable with their body which is why they're constantly changing parts. And because of that they don't feel like they fit in with the people around them.

LGBT+ Symbolism. Trans Symbolism. Zooble has dysphoria. CALLED IT.

(I mean, Jax even SAYS Zooble isn't straight in the episode)

And hey, just because I guessed what it was and saw it coming, doesn't mean I'm not very appreciative they brought it up. It helps with Zooble's character, and I'm sure the trans audience enjoyed it. I'm cis though, so I don't find it personal. That can't be helped.

We also learned about CAINE's mentality. The A.I was only programmed to create adventures. So he relishes in that because it's the only thing he knows how to do and knows how to help. And Zooble snarking at the very thing Caine was designed to do... BREAKS HIM.

And I am already theorizing, because Caine mentally breaking like that CAUSES A GLITCH IN THE ENTIRE CIRCUS.

So... CAINE'S mental state is what's keeping the circus afloat. THAT SAYS A LOT.

Yeah I definitely think he's getting redeemed, AND this is gonna come up later.

But other than those two scenes, I was a bit disappointed with this plotline. I feel like it could've been longer and we could've learned more. Or, let me rephrase that, at least ONE more cutaway to them.

As it stands, while this is TECHNICALLY the best B Plot of this show's episodes, it is still a B Plot that suffers from being much less interesting.

Idk, maybe this is a 'first viewing' issue, and when I watch the episode again, I'll understand it better.

Oh yeah, speaking of B Plots, we BARELY get ANYTHING regarding the pacifist route.

Once Pomni and Kinger fall into the hellhole, we don't hear from Ragatha Gangle and Jax FOR AWHILE.

And then the next time we see them, they're having tea and being friendly with the hunter's ghost wife, who DID NOT get an in person introduction. And they tied up Jax off screen. WHAT?!?! HOW DID Y'ALL GET HERE?!?!

It wasn't their episode, I understand why the episode wouldn't focus on them, but I DID want an explanation as to how we went from THIS, to THIS.

AND NO ONE BOTHERED TO SHOW CONCERN FOR POMNI AND KINGER THE WHOLE TIME?!

I also feel like it could have, at the very least, benefited Ragatha. But because we don't get anything, her little moment with Pomni at the end felt quite out of nowhere. Because... they didn't have any exchange this episode. I mean good for Pomni for finally expressing she likes her I guess.

Also... that whole exchange was really platonic...

(I don't ship them)

Overall, I really think this is a pacing issue. The pitch black scene with just their eyes is VISUALLY GREAT, love that they're experimenting with different art styles, BUT OH MY GOD THAT SEQUENCE DRAGS. It could have been HALF as long and the point would've still come across.

I also am just not a big fan of haunted mansion stories. And I know that MIGHT be just a me problem.

But in my defense, Ninjago Season 5 had a haunted mansion episode, and that was one of their best episodes that really SAID SOMETHING and taught the main characters something valuable.

THIS haunted mansion feels more like an obstacle more than anything else. Unless there's some deeper meaning behind the mansion's lore in the future, but I doubt it because it's designed to be a one time thing.

I'm MUCH more invested in the PSYCHOLOGICAL horror of the show instead of the PHYSICAL horror. And I think that's why The Pilot and Episode 2 felt a lot more scarier to me than this.

Don't get me wrong, the dismantled heads and the corpse monster ARE scary. The lit up severed head MADE MY SKIN CRAWL when I first saw it. So did Possessed Pomni.... is it bad that I'm kinda obsessed with Possessed Pomni though? But the scary imagery doesn't do much for me unless there's a deeper meaning behind it. Because after my skin crawl I was able to say "Yep. That's the severed head alive and glowing." "That's it's headless body."

When Pomni got possessed by running through the hall of souls, I remember saying aloud "NO DON'T DO IT".

And the thing that ACTUALLY scared me was when they said "How's your wife, Kinger?"

THAT'S the scary part of that for me.

They also OUTRIGHT TELL you the message of the episode this time.

Now I DON'T hate that they did that, it's meant to be a nice moment between Kinger and Pomni. But I MUCH prefer the approaches the previous episode had with showing its message and letting us pick it up for ourselves.

I don't think that's too much of 'dumbing down' though. Episode 2's incident is different. And this episode it IS meant to be a nice moment between Kinger and Pomni and that's why it had to be told.

So yeah, that's what's keeping this episode back for me.

Okay let me talk about the great stuff now. Aside from what I already mentioned.

ANIMATION.

I LOVE that they're experimenting with different styles, like I said. The 2D eyes look really good, and the little hand drawings at the beginning? Love them. They're so cute. PLEASE keep experimenting with animation techniques.

I was also REALLY WORRIED that the Episode's lighting would be too dark for me to see anything that was going on.

This is a BRIGHT show, especially in the previous two. So it's kinda offputting to see these cartoonish characters in a realistic setting. (That's probably on purpose)

But no, it ended up NOT being an issue for me. I followed everything that was happening perfectly.

Also POMNI AND KINGER.

They were EASILY the BEST thing about this episode. Hands down.

EVERY scene with them and their interactions is GOLDEN.

I SERIOUSLY thought Pomni was gonna take a backseat for a couple of episodes to make way for everyone else. But she IS the main character, so I should've suspected that wouldn't be the case.

The story LETS her BE the protagonist, WITHOUT taking anything away from the other character's development. Every scene aids BOTH HER & THEM.

She's such an incredibly written protagonist AND WE STAN IN THIS HOUSE.

But enough about her.

I KNEW this episode was going to make me understand the Kinger hype and love him, AND I WAS EXACTLY RIGHT.

I was wrong about it being schizophrenia. Instead his issue is dementia, which is memory loss/problems. But I'm not mad at all that I got that wrong.

I'm not someone who has dementia, so I can't speak if it's accurate or not, but I LOVE how it was handled here.

Kinger's brain works much differently from everyone else due to his past experiences, and there are certain triggers to his sanity. SO THAT'S WHY HE STAYS IN A PILLOW FORT. I GET IT NOW.

Also HIS WIFE.

Okay yeah so I was wrong about what the relationship was. But I don't care. I LOVED THIS BACKSTORY.

(Abstractions can be tamed?)

Kinger DEFINATELY went up my list for me thanks to this episode, and I KNOW he's gonna be a key player in the future. If his "seven years of computer science" line is anything to go off of.

I love him so much. Your honor, I love him. I wanna protect him.

These two make such great friends and I'm completely here for it.

And the episode STILL maintains all of Digital Circus's great qualities. Thrilling action, sharp comedy, great character interactions, excellent characterizations. And also much more theorizing material that will rot all our brains.

Great Episode. 8/10.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be welcoming this beauty in my nightmares.