#please let first be a mess

[respectthepetty]

Yooooooooo, your theory of Playboyy as an Only Friends AU is absolutely brilliant!

Your brain just, holy fuck, wow!

If you're hitching a ride, can I hop on this theory train with you?

Because if so, I'm dropping the following baggage:

First and Soong as Ray and Sand

I mean... let's take a look at the list...

- rich kid thinking money can buy anything and everything, check

- rich kid finds a partner he pays first and then starts a fwb, check

- first there is the issue of mutual exploitation before it becomes more; we can't quite say yet, so we'll leave that open, but the signs are pointing to check.

- then the issue with addiction (with Ray alcohol and drugs, with First sex)... yep. Check.

I am not connecting anything rn because we also just had an EP Playboyy, but holy CRAP... there really could be something to your theory.

(Yes, we have more couples than in OF but seriously, if the writers had crammed all the stuff that's supposed to happen into 8 characters... Good night, I think the thing would have exploded0.0)

Anon, it's not my brain. @lukaherehelp has been hyping up this show since Earth was created, and the writer, Den, stated in a few tweets that Only Friends and Playboyy were basically the radio edit versus the album version but as television shows. One was Disney channel and the other was Cinemax.

Between the two, I already like that unlike Mew, who was shown to view his virginity as a prize to be won, Zouey seems more touch averse, which could also connect with a desire to remain in control. As a self-identified slut, it makes sense to me that he would be more open to giving than receiving, so he could remain in control of the situation. But I really don't want to compare hotdogs to hamburgers.

However, know that I also see Ray and Sand in First and Soong, and I also wanted Sand to be a sex worker in Only Friends much like I wanted Top to be.

I had theories for days for Only Friends! I wanted sex workers. I wanted a dead body. I wanted police involvement. I wanted the poor stealing from the rich.

I WANTED IT ALL!

And I just might get it in Playboyy.

First calls Soong a "whore" when?

[raining-its-pouring]

It’s strike week! Please donate e-sims if you can!

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

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

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

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

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

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

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

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

[sunsetsandsunshine]

HIII!! I saw that requests are open soo i wanna make one LMAO

Could i request a lee!Lloyd and ler!Kai fic from lego ninjago? I think that Lloyd seeing Kai as his older brother is absolutely adorable and i need some content with them. No pressure tho! Please and ty!<3

~ 𝚆𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚢-𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚢 (𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊…) ~

❤️💚 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 ❤️💚

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴𝙴 𝙷𝙸 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 💓💗💕💝!!! 𝚂𝙾 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚋𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙹𝙰𝙶𝙾 𝙵𝙸𝙲 👏🏾🥳🎉‼️ 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑…𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜, 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 🥲👍🏾. 𝙺𝚊𝚒 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾!!! 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙽𝚈𝙰 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙶𝙱 𝚂𝙸𝙱𝚂⁉️⁉️⁉️ 𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙼𝙰𝙽— 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟷𝟷𝟿

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚍 🐉💚

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙺𝚊𝚒 🔥❤️

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝— 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙺𝚊𝚒 𝚒𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍…𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚌 🫶🏾! 

𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙹𝙰𝙶𝙾 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟻‼️‼️‼️

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚙𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚌 𝚠𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚅𝙴𝙳, 𝙼𝙰𝙽:

@skyloladoodles @ziipzeepzop-eez @sunny-117

@saturnzskyzz @an0ma1y-th3d0ma1y @luigiisawesome

@what-youd-expect @berrymilkwithsugar

＊*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙹𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚞𝚙, 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 🥸🫶🏾˚*•✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Has anyone seen Lloyd come out of his room yet?” Kai asked as he finished styling his hair, walking into the kitchen where his siblings were eating breakfast. 

Call him a drama queen all you want, but he literally could not do a single thing unless his hair was completely styled for the morning.  

Which really just consisted of him putting ungodly amounts of hair gel on it to make it look spiky but shh…you didn’t hear that from me. 

“Nope.” Jay replied nonchalantly as he stuffed his face with the pancakes Zane happily cooked. Cole gagged internally at his brother’s absolutely grotesque way of eating, rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the real and ideal breakfast meal…

…Chocolate cake.

The Earth ninja snarfed down the delectable 'dessert' (you can eat cake anytime and anywhere— so is it really a dessert?) down his throat, making sure to leave no crumb left on the plate. 

Kai shivered at the two ninja’s…unique way of eating, sitting down next to Nya as he rested his cheek on his palm. “It’s…like, eight in the morning. Lloyd would usually be up by now...”

“It is currently nine in the morning.” Zane calmly corrected.

“My point still stands nonetheless!” The hothead shouted. 

“Maybe he just wants to sleep in.” The Lightning ninja suggested with a full mouth, “Remember how late we used to sleep in when we just started training to become ninja(s)?”

Nya huffed out a laugh, sipping her tea quietly, “Me and Master Wu would have to pour water on all of you guys just to wake you up…”

“Good times...” The freckled face teen remarked as he chugged his orange juice. The fire ninja cringed at the action, looking at his slightly older brother in complete disgust, “You are going to actually chokeif you keep eating and drinking like that...” The red cladded ninja commented. 

Jay rolled his eyes at the other’s remark, “Oh pleeease. The universe loves me way too much for that.”

“What universe are you referring to? Because it definitely isn’t this one.” The Water ninja giggled.

“Yeah…that sounded waaaaaay better in my head...” The Lightning ninja giggled back.

Cole and Kai shared an amused knowing glance at each other as they saw the two blue cladded ninja’s laughing with each other. The Ice ninja finished making the remainder of the pancakes, putting them onto a plate and putting said plate in the middle of the table.

“If you’re concerned about Lloyd’s irregular time in bed, perhaps you should maybe check up on him?” Zane suggested as he sat down at the table, giving the red themed ninja a soft smile. 

“Yeah…you’re right, man. I’ll be right back.” The spiky brown haired teen said as he got up from the table, shaking his head fondly as he heard a random fight between Cole and Jay start to break out. 

Now…you’re probably wondering why Kai is so worried in the first place since he isn’t known to be a huge worrywart. If he was being completely honest, that was usually Zane and Cole’s job. But you did not hear that from him. 

If there was anything Kai was best known for, it was probably being awesome, hot, brave…aaaand we’re getting off track here. But you see his point. 

It’s been a couple months since the whole…possession thing. And let’s just say the awesome, hot, and brave Kai everyone once knew and loved was on edge. 

If he could bring Morro back to life, kill him, bring him back to life and kill him again about a million times…he would definitely do so in a heartbeat. 

And in all honesty? During the months of recovery…it was honestly heartbreaking to let what happened settle in fully. Some parts of Kai still didn’t want to believe the events that had happened within the past few months had…well, happened. 

His little brother was possessed, forced to fight his family and friends, forced to fight the fucking fucker that possessed him and many more things Kai doesn’t even want to think about right now.

So…yeah. The red themed ninja was rightfully worried for his little brother. 

The amber eyed teen ran an anxious hand through his hair, exhaling loudly as he knocked on the closed door belonging to bedroom him and his sibling’s shared. 

No answer.

The red cladded teen knocked a tad bit louder the second time around but there was still no answer heard from the other side. The brown haired ninja opened the door slightly, peeking and looking around to find his little brother…fast asleep on his bed.

Kai snorted at the sight, his worry washing away as he sat on the edge of the youngest ninja’s bed, ruffling his hair ever so slightly, “Lloyd~! Wakey wakey, little bro!”

The blonde slowly turned his head to his big brother, his face morphing to any icy glare as the brunette tried to stifle a giggle at the sight. “Why do I have to see your face this early in the morning…?” Lloyd grumbled.

“Hey!” The amber eyed ninja squawked, “I’ll have you know seeing this bag of handsomeness any day is a blessing. You should feel lucky you get to see this beauty constantly.” 

“Ughhhh…why couldn’t you have come with Nya or something? That would’ve at least evened out the ugliness.” The youngest said, his small tired smile widening as he saw his brother’s clearly offended expression.  

“Okay…wow. My bad for coming in to check up on you.” The brunette exclaimed as he rested the back of his head on the Green ninja’s back. The hazel eyed teen groaned at the action, sinking deeper into his pillow.

“Dude, come onnnnn. Get out of bed, it’s time to start the day.“ The eldest said. 

“But it’s so earlyyyyyy…” The younger whined, sinking deeper into the blankets and stuffed animals he had on his bed. 

Kai raised a brow, “It’s nine in the morning.”

“Yeah! That’s early. Now let me get my oh-so precious beauty sleep. I need to recover from seeing your hideousness.” The blonde said sassily as he started to drift back to sleep.

Kai quickly shook his brother awake, not letting the kid in green pajamas visit the land of dreams quite yet. “Lloydie…I have no problem with you sleeping in, but at least get some breakfast in your system first.”

“Fuck breakfast.” The Green ninja murmured. 

The Fire ninja audibly gasped at the curse, trying his absolute best to not cry from proudness. 

That little green ball of snot was starting to act like him more and more everyday! 

…And Kai doesn’t know whether he should be happy about that or concerned for the near future.

“Wha— young man! We do not use such vulgar language in this household!” The hothead scolded, (even though he was very much proud).

“Who taught you to speak like that anyway?!” The elder huffed.

“Uh…you?” The youngest said blatantly.

“…I did?”

“Uh…yeah?”

The brunette rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “Oh, whatever. Just don’t repeat those kinds of words in front of your Uncle, got it?”

“Mhm.” The younger said uninterested.

“But anyways…I want you to get up and eat. Come on. Up and at 'em.” The spiky haired teen said as he tried to lift the other up from the bed, but the younger stayed exactly where he was.

Kai groaned, getting up from the bed as he glared at his brother, “You can be really fucking stubborn when you want to be, y'know that?” 

“I get it from you.” Lloyd deadpanned as he closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

“That’s why it’s so annoying.” The spiky haired teen huffed, his eyes slightly widening as an idea popped into his head.

A very mean idea but an idea nonetheless. 

“Lloydie-loo~!!” The elder sang in a sweet-song voice…a voice the youngest knew far too well. The Green ninja opened his eyes once more, looking at the other skeptically. “What is it now?” The blondie asked. 

“If you don’t get up…I think a certain someone is gonna come and get you~!” The brunette grinned, “Do you know who that special certain someone is~?” 

The hazel eyed teen sighed at the question, personally not in the mood for guessing games but doing it for the sake of entertaining his older brother, “Uh…pfft— I dunno…? Zane maybe?”

“As much as I’d love to see Zane ramble about how having breakfast is a very vital start to your day…that’s not who I’m talking about.” The amber eyed teen snickered. 

“Master Wu?” Lloyd tried again.

“Nope!” The spiky haired ninja grinned, adding extra flair to the simple word by adding a pop sound to the 'p' at the end. 

“Alright…I’m at a loss. Who is coming to quote on quote 'get me?'” The blonde teenager asked, doing quotation marks with his fingers. The red themed ninja grinned evilly at the oh-so innocent question his brother asked, sitting on the edge of the bed again. “I’ll give you a hint. He’s a monster and his first name rhymes with pickle.”

The Green ninja’s eyes widened, “…you wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet~?” Kai chuckled as he inched closer to the smaller teenager, wiggling his fingers teasingly. 

“Ihi’m gohonna kick yohou if you gehet ahany closer! I-Ihi’m seheherious!!!” The blondie giggly threatened which Kai couldn’t help but coo to. The fire ninja knew damn well his baby brother was a literal god and could beat him and the rest of their siblings up any day. But if you removed that true fact from the equation, the Green ninja was just a little kid at heart.

A very ticklish little kid at heart. 

The smaller teen internally screamed as his brother was inching closer and closer towards him. Without thinking, the blonde kicked his foot towards the other’s face, expecting a screech of pain from his big brother but was only met with a low and deeply terrifying chuckle.

The elder had effortlessly grabbed the kid’s ankle, smugly looking at his little brother, “Awe…is this for me~?” 

“N-Noho! Noho ihit’s not! Gihive meehee my foot b-bahack!” Lloyd giggled, trying to pull his ankle out of the other’s grip.

“But you literally just handed it to me!” The hothead snorted, trying his absolute best not to gush about his baby brother’s complete and utter adorableness. 

The older made dramatic groaning noises, holding the top of his head with his free hand, “Oh no! L-Lloyd! I think…I think I’m transforming…!” 

“N-Noho you’re not, yohohou bihig dork!”

“Yuh huh. Same thing happened last week.” Kai stated, doing weird and unusual cult-like movements with his head before landing his eyes on his brother; soft (yet petrified) hazel eyes meeting a determined amber. 

The younger broke eye contact, lying back on his bed as he covered his face with a pillow, giggling in anticipation. 

The figure in front of him that he just made eye contact with was not the big brother he knew and loved…

That was The Tickle Monster. And that fiend would not stop until he got what he wanted.

“Awe~! Are you hiding your face from me~?” The brunette grinned, using one finger to glide against Lloyd’s foot. The blonde squeaked at the mean yet soft sensation, his grip on the pillow tighteneing as he refused to laugh. 

He was not going to give The Tick— I mean…Kai that satisfaction. 

No way, José.

The fire ninja sat on the bed, pretending to hum in thought before he scratched his fingers alongside the other’s med arch. The youngest ninja let out a squawk, his plan about not laughing literally flyingout the window as loud squeals and giggles poured out of his mouth. 

“Oho~! That’s a good spot, huh~?” The spiky haired teen teased, clearly amused that his brother was able to cave in so soon. 

“N-NohOHO! N-NAHAT aha goohOOD spahat!” The hazel eyed ninja denied, shaking his head as he desperately tried to retreive his foot. “Ohhhh no you don’t, mister. You gave this to me, remember? No take-backsies.” 

“IHI DIHID nahAT gihive myhy foHOOT toohoo YOHOU!” Lloyd squealed, trying to kick his big brother with his free leg. Kai tutted in disaproval, releasing the green pajama wearing kid’s foot before sitting on his ankles, scribbling all over both of his feet. “Fine. Is this better?” The elder asked inocently.

The younger teen squealed, “Nahat beHEHETTER AHAT AHAHAHALL!!” 

“Not better~? Not even a liiiiittle bit~?” The other asked as he tickled underneath the blondie’s toes. “EEEHEE— squeak! NAHAHA! NAHAT BETTER!!”

The taller teenager chuckled, getting up from the kid’s ankles before sitting in his waist, digging his hands into Lloyd’s underarms. The hazel eyed ninja immediately shot his arms down at the action, hugging his middles and shaking his head back and forth whilst cackling like a mad man. 

In a result to all the movement, the pillow the blonde was once holding fell down to the floor, revealing the face of a very giggly Green ninja. 

“Awe~! There you are~! Hi, baby bro~!” The Fire ninja cooed, his smug smirk widening because he knew the smaller ninja well enough to know that he wanted to make a smart remark to Kai’s comment sooooo bad. 

But due to the current circumstances, the blonde knew it was in his best interest not to.

“K-KAHAHAI!” Lloyd whined through his laughs.

“Kai? Who’s Kai?” The spiky haired teen asked, turning his head to look around the room in search for this…'Kai' indivual. “IHIHAT’S— squeak! GEHET— squeak— oHO myhy gahASH! KAHAI!!!” Lloyd howled, laughing harder as the tickles in his underarms switched from scribbles to kneading in a matter of seconds. 

“I don’t know who this awesome, hot and brave Kai person is…but The Tickle Monster will make sure to tell you if he sees him.” The red cladded ninja mused. 

The green cladded teen squealed loudly, squirming as best he could in the position he was in as Kai just chuckled fondly at the action displaying below him, “Awe…is someone a squirmy wormy~? Does it tickle, Lloydie~?” 

“S-STAHAP!” 

“Stop~? Why should I stop, hm? Is it because you’re flustered~? Or is it because it tickles so much~? Or is it a combination of the two?” The brunette smugly teased, laughing softly as he saw a small blush appear on the other’s face. “JUhust geHET squeak YOHOUR hahands AHA— squeal OHOUT!” 

“But I caaaan’t!” Kai dramatically whined, “Your keeping them trapped with your big, stroooong muscles. Looks like those work-outs with Cole really came to use, huh?” Lloyd turned to his side, curling in on himself and letting out a soft snort as he continued to laugh to his hearts content. 

Kai cooed at him for probably the millionth time in an hour, trying not to tear up at the sight.

Why did his brother have to be so damn cute?!

“Why are you turning away from The Tickle Monster, Lloydie~?”

“STAHAP CAHAHALLING YOURSELF TH-THAHAT!”

“Stop calling myself what, Greenie? I’m just stating a fact.” Kai mused, poking his younger brother’s sides repetitively, “I like stating facts. For example…here’s a fact! You’re veryyyyy tickle tickle ticklish.” The brunette smiled as he gave the blonde a small kiss on the forehead (A platonic kiss. A PLATONIC KISS), ceasing his tickle attack for just a moment or two. 

The hazel eyed teen let out a small squeal at the kiss, crossing his arms as he looked to the side, “Cahan squeak yohou gehehet squeak ohoff squeal meehee now?”

The red themed ninja only shook his head, crossing his arms disapprovingly, “But Lloydie-loo! I’m not done quite yet! The Tickle Monster is hungry…!” He whined. 

The younger raised a brow in confusion, “Dihidn’t you juhust cohome frohom breakfast?”  

“But I’m not hungry for breakfast…I’m hungry for dessert~!” The taller teen grinned, gently grabbing the youngest ninja’s wrists and pinning them on top of his head. The blondie’s eyed widened as big as saucers, twisting and turning like a Fun-sized Twizzler. 

“Kahai— KaHAHAI!! NONONOHO— squeak DON’T YOU DAHARE IHI WIHILL EHEND YOHOU!!!” Lloyd screamed, immediatley trying to get off of the bed. 

As the younger kicked, protested and yelled, he soon came to realize he was trying to bargain with Kai. 

Once the Fire ninja had his mind set on something…it would literally take God himself to make him change his mind.

The amber eyed teen blew the most freaking ticklish raspberry Lloyd had ever felt right on his stomach, making the youngest scream in laughter, happy tears blurring his vision as he weakly squirmed in the hold.

“Ommmm nom nom nom~!” Kai teased as he switched from raspberries to nibbles.

“STAHAP! STAHAP squeak STAHAP STAHAP!!! YOHOU FREHEAKING— hic NAHAH!! NOHO hic NOHOISES!!” The Green ninja cackled loudly, his legs practically bouncing on the mattress due to how much he was squirming. The younger teen was absolutely losing his mind, just being able to lay on his bed and laugh his little heart out.

“But The Tickle Monster is hungry, little bro! And your tummy seems like an excellent feast, don’t you think?”

“NOHO— hic NAHAHA!! I CAHAN’T! I CAHAN’T squeal KAHAI squeal STAHAP IHIT!!” The blondie cried.

“You can’t what~?” The elder snorted in amusement. 

“I-IHIT squeal TIHIHICKLES!!!”

“If you can’t handle being tickled, you shouldn’t be so damn ticklish then.” The spiky haired ninja said simply, blowing another raspberry where Lloyd’s side met his lowest rib.

The smallest ninja threw his head back, his squeals, squeaks and laughs being so loud and high-pitched it could shatter actual glass. “AAAHAHA— squeak O-OKAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY! AHALRIGHT! IHI’M squeal UHUP! IHI’M hic UHUP!!!”

“So…does that mean you’re gonna come eat breakfast with me and the rest of our siblings~?” Kai giggled.

“Y-YAHA— snrk YEHES YEHEHES hic JUHUST squeal PLEHEASE!!!” The hazel eyed ninja squawked. The red cladded ninja stopped his tickling onslaught targeted towards his brother, lying down next to him as the blonde caught his breath.

The Green ninja wiped happy tears from his eyes due to being in complete hysterics not even a couple seconds ago. The smaller teen attempted glaring at his older brother, but found it so fucking hard to do due (haha do due…) to the fact Kai was smiling at him so…fondly.  

“Yohou’re ohohofficially thehe wohorst bihig brohother ever…” Lloyd grumbled as be crossed his arms playfully over his chest. 

“Psh— you know you love me, bud.” The brunette smiled, getting off of the bed as the blonde followed. “Alright. Come on, you little shit...let’s get some breakfast down your throat before the others make a search party for us.” Kai chuckled, ruffling Lloyd’s hair as the younger giggled, both of them walking out of the shared bedroom and into the hallway, towards the kitchen. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[elitisim]

                             ELITiSIM’S 100+ FOLLOWERS GIFT

Despite only posting like 10 pictures in the 3 years I’ve had this blog I’ve somehow lurked hard enough to amass 100 non-bot followers. So, as a thanks for that here are 110 seamless, recolorable patterns, as a thank you for 100+ followers

All patterns are seamless and recolorable!

20 patterns are included in the file that aren’t in the preview image because I cannot count properly.

Most patterns have 2 channels, a few have 3 and a couple have 4.

Patterns are mostly located in theme, geometric and abstract.

The gift comes in two flavors: Merged and Individuals

Both types contain the exact same type of stuff (package file and preview images) except version one is one big merged file and the version has individual files.

Tagging: @katsujiiccfinds @pis3update

DOWNLOAD INDIVIDUAL FILES: (SFS) (MEGA)

DOWNLOAD MERGED FILE: (SFS) (MEGA)

[t-u-i-t-c]

"Mackerel?"

[hetamata]

dead girls!!!

[daddy-long-legssss]

The Story Behind The Song: Arctic Monkeys’ early ambitions on ‘A Certain Romance’

Lucy Harbron – Far Out Magazine | January 17, 2024

It was 2006. Mortgages were crashing, and businesses were going bust. Tony Blair was on his last legs in office as the longest-serving prime minister since Margaret Thatcher, and the hangover of ‘Cool Brittania’ was beginning to set in with an unexpected ferocity. Things were bleak when a young Alex Turner sang, “There ain’t no romance around there” through the public’s speakers. Arctic Monkeys were about to write themselves into musical history as the voice of a new generation.

The final song on their debut album, there has always been something special about ‘A Certain Romance’. In 2022, after the release of their seventh album, The Car, Turner seemed to find himself reflecting back on that 2006 track. To the musician, that early cut holds a clue to everything that was to come as he said the piece “showed that we did actually have these ambitions beyond what we once thought we were capable of”.

Coming in at over the five-minute mark, ‘A Certain Romance’ almost feels like the Arctic Monkeys’ version of a rock opera, summarising all the themes, feelings and energy that came before it on their seminal album Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not. It has the cheekiness of ‘Fake Tales Of San Francisco’ and the catchy instrumentals of hits like ‘Dancing Shoes’ or ‘I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor’. Utilising the northern charm of ‘Mardy Bum’, it stands as a final, neatly summarising point on the social commentary found in their early tracks like ‘From The Ritz To The Rubble’ or ‘Riot Van’. Really, it could be argued that ‘A Certain Romance’ is the ultimate example of Arctic Monkeys’ original sound, perfectly encapsulating all the things that made the world listen up and pay attention.

It’s like they seemed to know that, too, always allowing the song a special place. In fact, it was really the band’s opening remark. Years before the offer of a debut album came around, the group were a well-oiled machine with their own local hits. They had the northern live music scene in their hands as their homemade demo CD was passed around like everyone’s worst-kept secret. Beneath the Boardwalk features eight out of the 13 songs that would be on Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, albeit in a slightly different, lower-quality version. But the opening number, ‘A Certain Romance’, sounds just the same.

It’s all there, from the rolling opening drums to that final guitar solo. Recorded and produced in a rented studio at only age 17, the existence of ‘A Certain Romance’, one of the band’s most explorative and energetic numbers, in this form this early in their career feels like a diamond sitting in a mine. It proves that they were always onto something special.

They never needed any help. In fact, their producer, Jim Abbiss, noted that they even seemed nervous about the help. “I think they were probably a bit weary, like ‘who’s this guy? And is he gonna make our sound this or that.’”

They didn’t want anything to change too much, as the group already had the songs figured out. Turner certainly did, as the track’s meandering narrative about hometown lads, fights, and local boredom is already there. Talking on a podcast, original member Andy Nicholson revealed the story behind the song. “We had a practice room with a pool table in, and we had a party in there, and we invited another band who were friends of ours, and we all had some drinks,” he said. “Then something happened, someone throws a pool cue, someone throws a pool ball, and everyone ends up fighting,” he added, explaining the lyrics, “there’s boys in bands / And kids who like to scrap with pool cues in their hands.”

But the magic of Arctic Monkeys lies in their nuance. What begins as a snooty analysis of his local landscape is a genuinely affectionate take. “Well, over there, there’s friends of mine / What can I say? I’ve known ’em for a long long time / And, yeah, they might overstep the line / But you just cannot get angry in the same way,” Turner sings, looking around at his bandmates and lifelong friends. ‘A Certain Romance’ is not only a time capsule for the group’s beginnings but is an ode to all the people who were there with them. It’s an ode to the hometown that made them and all its various characters.

But as the last guitar solo roars to life, there is an unspoken statement that they’re going to be bigger than what they came from. “I remember when we were recording ‘A Certain Romance’ and having a conversation with the producer about the final guitar solo,” Turner told NME, recalling the moment these songs were reworked for their debut. But they wouldn’t let anyone mess with ‘A Certain Romance’, knowing exactly what they were doing and trying to say with that one. In the 2003 demo version, all the feeling is already there, and Turner wouldn’t risk it.

“There’s something that happens at the end of that track where we break some rules in a single moment,” he continued. What happens at the end of the piece feels even more special, considering how the album was recorded. “These are the songs we wanna do, and I think this is the order we wanna do them in,” Alex Turner told their producer, recounting the conversation in 2007 to RadioX, “And he goes, ‘alright, we’ll try to record them in that order as well.’” As the final song, that last guitar solo is the last thing recorded for the album, standing as a cathartic outlet and a chance for the band to prove themselves.

“We focused on the [emotional] effect of the instrumentals over the words,” Turner reflected on the track, concluding, “and I feel like we’ve been trying to do that again and again since then.”

+

[tapucocoafgc]

Finally got my car fixed, finished the chapter of my story I'd been stuck on writing for ages, started back on the meditation/workout grind, FGs are actually fun again, and my best friend is moving out here in literally 4 days

It's been a rough going the last few weeks, basically ever since we got back from our long weekend trip out to Seattle (which was super fun btw, just realized I never really elaborated on that due to everything going up in flames right after we got back). But maybe

Just maybe

Things are finally starting to look up

[always-ian]

it's been 84 years since i last participated, but hey, it's @galladrabbles time! i'm so in love with this week's prompt by @energievie, "i lose to watch you win", although it did challenge my quite a bit.

The door to their–no, his–cell slams shut and he’s alone. Mickey's throat tightens. He swallows. Fuck. He’s alone. He’s lost him again.

He runs a hand over his eyes and feels mortified when it comes back wet. Ian hasn’t even been processed out yet and Mickey is already losing his shit. The stupid voice in his head is whispering that he’ll never see Ian again.

Mickey draws in a shaky breath. This is good, he tells himself. Ian is free. He's going home. He’ll be happy. This is what it’s always been about. It’s going to be okay.

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

"Did you not say that Lorenza was the princess of this domain? For a princess to be fretting like a nursemaid, knelt beside a bed.. It speaks volumes of the devotion she has towards her lover."

I made it past the 6.2 trial tonight with the help of one of my other friends very kindly queueing for it with me, and the game presented a decent opportunity for a bit of an angst moment.. so I took it!

(To anyone who may be concerned: don't worry, Zero will be okay soon! It's just the immediate aftermath of the 6.2 trial that leads to this situation, but she recovers. That isn't going to stop Lorenza worrying about her, though - a rare instance of actually seeing her so concerned about someone or something.)

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmates AU in which when your soulmate is in a situation that can result in their death you get to see through their eyes. Like, I don't know how to explain this- it kind of flashes between what you see and what your soulmate sees. You know those edits where there's a scene going on and there's another one faded in the background happening at the same time? Similar to that. The idea is that you get to see what your soulmate sees too, on top of what you're seeing.

Now, this AU but JeanMarco. With Marco asking the others where's Jean, just for him to start seeing a corpse right in front of his eyes not even a second after asking. Seeing through Jean's eyes as he's trying to get hold of that gear and stuff. And once Jean's safe, once it clicks that you know his best friend is his soulmate Marco can't wait for them to graduate so he can you know tell him that.

Then, you know. That happens. And Jean is so fucking confused because he keeps seeing Annie crying, looking down on him. Only when Annie starts getting off the gear, when his soulmate starts moving around trying to get away he starts panicking, starts moving around faster than before. And maybe he's too late. Or maybe he shows up in time and kills the titan. I don't know. That's not where I'm trying to get, but to the second option AKA Marco pulling an UNO reverse on Annie because he's a smart sneaky bastard like that and being like 'Hey you can't kill me, my soulmate will know it was you' which makes her stop trying to take off his gear. Reiner keeps telling her to do it, Bertholdt keeps yelling about that titan coming closer, but Annie... she has seen things, at some point. Flashes of moments that weren't hers, happening right in Trost- right in that moment. And she didn't give them too much thought until that moment, until it got confirmed that it has nothing to do with her titan powers.

'What do you mean by that?' she asks, because she needs to know more. Because she wants to know more. And Marco starts explaining how it works. Tells them that he has found his soulmate, that they will put all the blame on them for his death. Reiner doesn't believe him, keeps insisting that he's playing them around - he, and anyone born and raised on Marley, has never heard of something like that before, it doesn't exist - but Annie tells him to shut up and to let Marco go. Cue to the plot of any fic in which Marco doesn't straight up die after finding up their secret.

Anyway I don't know man, just,,, We need more soulmate aus for JeanMarco. That's an order.

[does-this-look-inanimate-to-you]

i just realised that this years election day is on november 5

this year’s destiel day is about to be insane

[trimmedarmor]

doing the equivalent of gripping something intensely hard then forcing myself to let it go every time i see something about the stupid fandom drama i got pulled into earlier this year

[deepseacolors]

@spr-ingo May, Day... 3??: Alternator/X-ING

...I'm not great at, uh. Time management. Whoops!

Even though it's late, I still wanted to get this out before the last event day of the last event month. I have a couple other incomplete pieces from earlier days that I might like to polish up and post sometime, but this one is the MOST complete of the batch. (And, at over 3,000 words, it is without contest the longest thing I have EVER written at this point. Fun fact!)

This one is, um. A little strange. After playing the Alone inthe Dark remake, I just got a hankering for a survival/psychological/cosmic horror AU. Emmet was originally going to be the protag of this AU, but isn't it this Ingo's event? He should get the dubious honor of survival horror protag status. I think he wears it pretty well, personally.

Warnings: Some unreliable narrator, memory issues, something approaching a panic attack toward the end. Things lurking in the dark.

While nothing bad really happens in this one, it does very vaguely reference bad things (parental death, familial estrangement) happening in the past. Additionally, it takes a pretty sharp tonal shift about halfway through.

I personally don't think it's all that bad, but if you're not good with spooky stuff, best be cautious.

--

The river sparkles cheerfully in the bright midday sun, and Ingo has half a mind to curse it.

There’s no way he can cross this unaided. Even if Ingo were able to swim, and even if he didn’t already know for certain that some of the—creatures residing in this place could swim like Sharpedo, the river is much too wide. Ingo would exhaust himself before making it halfway.

And he is already much too familiar with the sensation of drowning.

When he gets his brother out of this place and brings him home, Ingo vows that he’ll never step foot near another body of water deeper than a bathtub for as long as he lives.

But for now… Ingo eyes that incongruent tower looming over the trees past the river.

Specifically, he examines the great emblem carved on it’s wall, glittering like gold against bright marble finish.

Digging through his coat pocket, Ingo pulls his brother’s notebook from the leather satchel he procured to try and protect it from the elements. Despite his best efforts, however, the pages are already becoming warped and filthy from the damp conditions and constant handling.

As delicately as he can, Ingo flips through the pages, searching for something he had seen during a previous examination, and… ah, there.

It’s not a perfect replica—Emmet, for all his attention to detail, has apparently never seen fit to hone the delicate hand needed for artistry—but it is close enough that Ingo can tell that this is a sketch of the selfsame sigil that stares at him from atop that bizarre, lopsided structure.

Has Emmet been there? Or has he simply seen this mark elsewhere, and recorded it for future reference?

...Is he there now?

Ingo scans the rest of the page in case there are further clues, but he knows better by now than to get his hopes up. Indeed, the only writing that seems to pertain specifically to that mark is a single word in Emmet’s even writing:

‘Pale’

He stoppers the groan before it can leave his chest, and instead pinches the bridge of his nose.

Inscrutable as always, brother.

(“I took these notes for myself,” Emmet had said once upon a time, years and forever ago. “They do not need more detail. I know what they mean.”

Ingo had draped himself partway over the edge of his bed, putting his head level with his brother’s. Emmet himself had his back propped against the foot of the bed, and leaned back enough to meet his eyes.

They had been nothing more than schoolchildren discussing their studies, not aware of the tragedies looming in their near future, and Ingo had taken flipping through Emmet’s school notes while Emmet played with Litwick.

“I know, Emmet,” Ingo had sighed, allowing Tynamo to gently press against his cheek. The offered comfort was appreciated, even if the uncontrolled static would wind up making his hair stand on end again. “I was simply hoping that your notes might elucidate the subject better than our instructor, is all.”

Emmet took the book from his brother, but didn’t put it away. Instead, he opened it to his notes from the lesson earlier that day and holds it up so they both could see.

“So show me what you do not know,” he said, grinning. “I will help you understand. Because we are--”)

“--a two-car train,” Ingo murmurs.

In the present, Ingo blinks away the memory and shakes his head. Disorienting as they are, he’s starting to get used to these flashbacks. He’s still on the fence as to whether that’s a good thing or not.

(It’s normal to forget portions of your childhood as you age. The way the human brain develops makes it inevitable. This world, bordering dreams and reality, just seem to draw those forgotten things out.

...So why does it still feel like he’s missing too much?)

Exhaling slowly from his nose, he takes a moment to recenter himself. Inscrutable or not, the emblem on that tower is the closest thing he has to a clue at this juncture, and he means to pursue it.

Which means he must reroute until he finds the line that will take him there.

--

The stairs groan and creak ominously with every step downward.

There are no lights in the stairwell; no candles, no lamps, and certainly no light bulbs (though the small boathouse is so old and unmaintained that Ingo doubts any of the wiring would have survived anyhow). The gloom is suffocating; the darkness almost a solid thing, boring down on him.

Ingo is grateful, then, for the lantern he found earlier today. Rusted and damaged it may be, the lilac flame flickering inside the faded bulb remind him that he is not alone here. Even if his trusted Lampent can’t physically follow him through the doorways leading to this world, the pale light she granted still continues to guide him.

Water suddenly trickles down from the ceiling, and he jerks the lantern away from it.

...Still, strong as she is, Lampent can’t keep a damp wick lit. Even in this odd dreamworld, that law of physics remains intact.

They’ve learned that the hard way already.

Bringing the lantern closer to himself, he continues his trek down.

In any other circumstance, Ingo is sure that would not be here. He would have taken one look at the rickety, broken-down stone-and-wood boathouse, with it’s unserviced motorboat and the crooked, oddly-placed basement door, and he surely would have turned around and gone home. It spits in the face of every safety standard he’s ever held himself to.

Nothing in this world is safe. Hostile creatures—neither human nor Pokemon, but something altogether alien—stalk him at every turn. The architecture is incomprehensible and prone to unexpected failure. Every time Ingo feels he can relax, something terrible springs from the shadows, claws aimed for his throat.

But Emmet is here, somewhere. His notes, otherwise sparse or filled with shorthand Ingo cannot understand, are meticulously dated. And they indicate that he has been coming to and from this world for nearly a year.

(Ingo never knew. Emmet never mentioned it. There was never even a hint in the letters he sent, until the one that incited Ingo’s sudden visit.

Did he think Ingo wouldn’t have believed him?)

(Would Ingo have believed him?)

A stair creaks sharply in protest, and he startles so badly that he almost loses balance.

Focus. This is no place to get lost in thoughts.

Any questions he has can be saved for if—for when he finds Emmet and convinces him to leave this wretched place.

And to do that, he needs to get the boat operational.

And for that, he needs gasoline.

Or an oar, at least.

The basement should hold something of use.

--

After five minutes of descent, Ingo decides it might be better to simply try and steer the boat with a large branch or something. He turns around and begins to climb up the way he came.

--

After ten minutes of ascent, Ingo’s lungs start to burn. The stale air here is near-suffocating.

He is not going to reach the top, it seems. Not yet, at any rate.

He tamps down the anxiety bubbling in his chest, turns around, and descends again.

The stairs creak and groan.

--

After an unknown amount of time descending, Ingo’s mind starts to wander.

Whatever could Emmet want in this wretched place? Ingo knows better than to assume that his brother is able to move easily through this world; though he had fewer scrapes and bruises than Ingo surely sports, there were plenty enough the last time they’d met to indicate that Emmet hasn’t exactly been waltzing through unhindered.

But every time Ingo tried reason with him, it was the same:

“Go home, Ingo.”

“Everything will be fine, Ingo.”

“Hurry and go home.”

“I have to do something first. And then I will write you. Okay? So you can leave. I will see you later.”

But even if his memories have faded, rusted away, Ingo can still tell when his brother is lying to him.

Ingo had begged, demanded, pleaded for Emmet to just speak to him. Let him help, if nothing else, so they can go home together.

And Emmet had hesitated, long enough that Ingo started to think that he had finally talked sense into his wayward twin.

But instead he had turned away. “It is better that you do not know,” he had said, so softly that Ingo could barely hear him.

He had looked exhausted, bone-weary. Like he’d lived a thousand lives in the decade they’d been apart.

And that…

(“Sometimes,” Mother’s voice sounds tired, heavy, “not knowing is better.”

He remembers, suddenly, sitting one the large old couch in the drawing room with Mother and Emmet; Ingo cuddled up to her left side, Emmet leaning against her right.

It had been a stormy summer day, the rain splattering loudly against the windows and the wind howling like a thing bereaved, but Ingo paid it little mind. He was simply thrilled that his mother was not only in high enough spirits to entertain them, but had sought them out for play multiple times that week.

Perhaps, he thought, this meant that Mother’s health was improving! She had promised ages ago that she would take him and Emmet on a train to see the countryside someday, but her weak heart kept her housebound anymore. The only time she left the house these days was to see some doctor or another. It must have been very dull for her, but she never complained. At least, never in earshot of the twins.

Looking back on it in the present, Ingo will also recall the way she would furtively glance at the doors and windows and sometimes speak in hushed voices, as if she feared being caught doing something bad and getting reprimanded.

By who, Ingo could not guess. Father had been away on business for much of the month, and was not due to return for another week. Though there was a nurse who stopped by to help Mother with her medicine, it was only for a half-hour during the morning. For much of the day, the three of them and their were alone in the house.

Certainly, it was only the three of them.

There were creaking floorboards and doors that opened by themselves, inexplicable chills and strange whispering noises from just outside the door; but it was just the old house settling. Father said It had been in his family for generations, and thus wear and tear is only natural.

And when one feels eyes watching unseen, or an ice-cold hand gripping one’s shoulder when there was no one else around, well, it was only childish imagination running wild. One must be mature about these things, Ingo.

Certainly.

At Mother’s words, both Ingo and Emmet had frowned.

“… I do not understand, Mother,” Ingo had said. “In what situation would having less knowledge be beneficial? That sounds counterproductive.”

Across Mother’s lap, Emmet nodded emphatically.

From what little he remembers of their childhood, Ingo knows that both he and Emmet had been what one might describe as precocious. No problem can remain unsolved if one used proper application of strategy, and the twins excelled at sussing out and utilizing all knowledge at their disposal for creative problem solving. Though there had been times where Father or their instructors became irritated with where their wits took them, their intelligence had always been highly praised.

It seemed odd for an adult to advocate for less education.

Mother herself seemed to tense for a moment, before plastering on her practiced smile.

“Well…” she said slowly, “sometimes things are—scary. Or sad.” She hesitates, as if struggling to articulate her thoughts. “Or… perhaps, too much. Too—big.”

Her hand combed through Ingo’s hair, working out the tangles, and Ingo almost wanted to stop discussing this. To just quietly agree and move on to talk about better things, like the books he and Emmet got for their birthday, or the Cottonee they had found in the garden earlier that week.

But it sat wrong with Ingo. A look over at Emmet, with his furrowed brow, told him that his twin felt the same.

Mother seemed to realize this. With a sigh, she leaned backward, bringing the twins with her.

“You’re right, Deerling,” she said slowly. “Most of the time, it’s good to study up and be smart about things. But…”

She started scratching lightly at Emmet’s head as she thought, and he relaxed further in her hold.

“… Sometimes, things just aren’t our business,” she settles on. “Sometimes… looking too hard at something will—will make it know you’re there. Looking at it.” She failed to suppress a shudder. “And then it will…” her voice becomes a haunted whisper, “it will start looking at you. And then it won’t ever stop.”

Ingo’s voice wavered in his attempt to match her low tone, “Do you mean… something bad?”

She tightens her hold on the twins. “Something dangerous,” she hissed.

And he didn’t understand. Father had said that Mother sometimes got dreams and reality confused, but she sounded so certain of what she ways saying. More certain than anyone had ever been of anything.

Ingo glanced again over at Emmet. His brother seemed to be thinking very hard.

After another heavy silence, Mother spoke again. “That’s why you need to be careful, okay? Our family… It’s easier for us to—to see dangerous things. And to be seen by them.”

She sat up, tapping her boys cheeks to make sure they are looking at her. Her face was like stone.

“So promise Mama, okay? Promise me that if you—if you see something that feels dangerous and scary,” her hands start to tremble, “promise me that you’ll close your eyes. Don’t look.” She grips their shoulders. “Whatever happens, just walk away and don’t think about it. Okay?”

And her gaze was heavy, and it felt like this was the most important promise he’d ever make to her, so he nodded. “I promise, Mother,” he said, voice barely audible for once.

She nods in approval, and turns her stony gaze to her youngest. “Emmet?”

Emmet hesitated.

She shook his shoulder. “Emmet,” she said, her voice low; and in that moment she was almost scarier than their Uncle’s dragons.

After a few long, tense moments, Emmet looked up at mother.

He said: “But why?”)

----

Ingo misses the next step.

Falls.

He curls up, trying to protect his head and neck with his unoccupied arm. Tries to get his legs under him, tries to break his fall—this stairwell has already gone on endlessly, the longer he falls the more at risk he is of further injury, he can’t—

He hits the water at the bottom with a splash.

For a split second, he panics, only barely able to keep himself from gasping in the stale, stagnant water covering his head. He holds the lantern above him, can’t let her go out, he can’t function in the pitch-black nothing of this pit alone without a light--

And then he pushes himself up, sitting in a soaked heap in a pool of water less than two feet deep.

But why, but why, but why? What could be worse than this? Than not knowing?

Floundering in the dark, with a light that struggles to shine more than a few feet ahead, violence and cruelty biting his heels at all times.

His heart is pounding, beating at his eardrums as he trembles and shakes with force from the ice still rushing through his veins. His arm still stiffly holds the lantern above his head because he cannot risk losing her light to the dirty water surrounding him.

It’s better not to know, they say, but all Ingo wants is to know, why? What did mother see? What does Emmet know?

The still silence of the room he landed in is broken by small splashes of water and ragged gasps that Ingo cannot control.

What makes Emmet so afraid that he cannot bear to even imagine sharing his burden with his own twin? The one who was once his closest friend, his most trusted confidant? What could be so terrible?

What is he missing--?

A dozen steps up the stairway behind him, the stairs groan and creak.

Ingo freezes. Holds his breath. Listens.

Footsteps, so delicate and light that they are almost drowned out by the protesting wood, are getting closer. A fluttering buzz, like an insect’s wings, drift down from the dark.

Those are not the even, measured steps of his brother. They are not the calculated, cautious steps of the detective that accompanied him here.

Ingo stands, slowly, holding his lantern toward the stairs. It rattles with the force of his shaking.

He knows those steps.

He does not know those steps.

But he knows them. He knows them, and he needs to go, to go, to go, before--

Just outside the range of the lantern, a shadow flickers in the stairwell.

And Ingo suddenly believes that, if he stays, if he waits for that entity reach the landing, he can know.

He can know what it was that crushed his mother under it’s weight until she could live with it no longer. He can know what it is that changed his brother so drastically after her death, that wore him down to the thin specter that greeted him in that dismal study just this morning.

But what would it cost?

A small polished shoe breaches the light. The buzzing vibrates against his eardrums.

(He needs to find Emmet. Nothing else matters.)

Ingo stumbles backwards, the water hindering his movement, before turning and running the opposite direction.

He has no way of quantifying the amount of time he spends running other than the burning of his lungs and the weakness of his legs, but some indeterminable time later, he bursts through a door and is immediately blinded by a searing light.

It catches him off guard, and he trips, scraping his hand and knees against wet stones and sand. The lantern clatters against the ground.

He has the presence of mind, still, to reach behind him and slam the door closed. Scooting back until his back is pressed against it, holding it shut, he tries utilize his hearing while his eyes adjust.

Running water. Wind blowing and rustling… leaves?

Ingo blinks his eyes open.

Though he has no memory climbing any stairs in his mad escape, he has somehow made it back to surface level. He is sitting next to the river that started this whole mess.

Across the river from where he sits stands a rickety stone-and-wood boathouse, an unmaintained motor boat tied to it’s dock.

Behind the small shack he rests against, there is a thick and uninviting forest.

And, less than a mile deep into those woods… a marble and gold tower looms over the treeline, bearing a familiar emblem.

… One small blessing, at least: he won’t have to put his faith in that rotted little boat.

Still breathing heavy, Ingo slumps against the door and covers his eyes.

A brief layover. That’s all he needs. Just… a few moments.

Then it will be time to depart once again.

[senseiwu]

I am so, so tired of people dismissing an entire friendship just because they don't like that there were feelings there

Feelings do not invalidate a friendship!!! Especially not a friendship of over 40+ years!!!

Please stop with the "Wu and Misako didn't like each other at all" stuff 😭 they're still FRIENDS!! Wu is the one who taught her Spinjitzu! You think he's gonna do that to someone he doesn't like??