#to try and get by 'good enough'
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There's a lot with the Heroes in particular I need to catch up / refresh on (as is I have one lv.60 phantom and haven't played the rest either since ~10yrs ago or ever, in eunwol and revamped Aran's case) before I can decisively head canon some things but.
It genuinely knocks me to the floor how... much, Phantom is. Like he creates this impression of a verging-on-sadistic aloof, precise theatrical showman and that's not, precisely a lie, but then you get like...
He forgets where he puts things or why he even stole something. He's annoyed that people didn't TRY to break into his vaults. He's so bad at being rich that his employees who he hired with his vast resource pool have to remind him that he has money. Said employees despite his heroic reputation seem to exclusively consist of people willing to bully and contradict him to his face.
He's a french-speaking middle eastern man in a context where you have to ask where the fantasy france analogue is that would presumably have this cultural exchange with Ariant. He insists he doesn't miss Raven when corvid motifs adorn literally anything he owns and nobody even questioned him about it, he is just talking to himself in a sealed vault. He also never stops talking. He will die if you stop paying attention to him. He bluffed an endgame boss at level 10 by using practical effects.
Man really feels like someone tried as hard as they could to turn Peter Parker into Bruce Wayne and only succeeded on the outermost level.
#Maplestory#Maplestory Phantom#like in serious. I think there's a lot to be said about how the heroes as a collective faction#are about 'Legacy' as an antagonistic force#a reputation you can't have / can't live up to / can't escape etc etc#even the Demon as another character from that time period is tangled with this theme#(though also grouped with the Resistance themes of scarcity and desperation)#and in Phantom's case. Phnatom feels as if his worst enemy is himself#even before Lotus traps him#multiple people repeatedly confront Phantom about not taking risks alone#but he constantly refuses with this subtext that he does not feel like he's good enough#he's incredibly demoralized by training- IIRC the most out of any of the other heroes#Phantom scans floridly ADHD to me. but the kind that never found out anything COULD be 'wrong' with him#so he just developed category 5 imposter syndrome and a labyrinth of justifications excuses and self-punishments#to try and get by 'good enough'
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oh. I think my fears about Chiefcake passing from old age were more on point than I realized. she's acting very weak right now.
and it's late on a friday, when all the rabbit-specific vets have closed. I'll call around anyway to see if at home euthanasia is an option tonight.
#I didn't expect it to be this soon#she's been sleeping more and urinating outside of the litter box#so I was planning on getting her on arthritis meds to see if those helped her move around better#but tonight......I know how animals act when they're dying.#something has gone wrong inside her#god these things always happen at night when the vets have closed 💀#all I can do is stay with her and try to make her as comfortable as possible#this sucks#at least she still feels good enough to eat the apple slice I'm offering and tooth-purr while being stroked
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im certain someone else has asked this but i am Curious
#dont even care if you rb i just love Polls#for me its ideas! when im not doing a commission#have really been struggling to be 'good enough' these days#trying to use my sketchbook more so that i dont get hung up on perfection
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okay now this is getting out of hand who gave stan mabel's sweater
there's a time traveler on the loose and they keep giving the youngins of new jersey accessories that arent supposed to exist yet
i dont think he likes pink
anywayyy reblogs appreciated as always, or like it or just scroll past it but if you want anyone else to see this you're gonna have to reblog :>
also i did one of little ford if you're interested shdfksdhkuh
insanity is once again below the cut
what was i DOING the scale was all off
"duhhhh uhhh whats hair"
i figured it out eventually like i always do
gave him a face, it is enrichment
did NOT know what i wanted the pose to be
eventually decided on this despite wanting to give him little dino hands instead because i cannot dra w hands
colored without shading
also i drew most of this with my cat sitting on my shoulders
my back hurty
#gravity falls#gf#gf fanart#gravity falls fanart#gf stan#gravity falls stan#grunkle stan#stan pines#stanley pines#stan gravity falls#grunkle stan gravity falls#stanley gravity falls#connor draws#anyway jesus fuck thats enough tags#sorry im trying to like actually get my art out there 😭#you can probably tell im still learning poses and shit if you're a good artist and you have any tips to stop glaringly fucking up#my ask box is open
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shows up a day early with a nobara birthday tribute
#my art#timelapse#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#nobara kugisaki#kugisaki nobara#fanart#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#anyway i was alr finished this by the time i actually thought 2 double check the date#come 2 find her birthday is tomorrow.......#oh well it's the 7th somewhere#i cant believe i still had more flowers in me after 3 days of being stuck in hydrangea purgatory#tho tbf roses were one of those things that i fixated on n would doodle over and over in notebook margins n such#so their petal shape n distribution is pretty muscle memory by now#roses eyes and a secret third thing im forgetting were my go-to doodle subjects#theyre just real swirly and bumpy in weird places and tht makes the shape so fun 2 push n play with#whereas hydrangeas r just . roundish pointy with hints of 4petals scattered amid a circle#anyway enough traumadumping abt hydrangeas this is Her Day >:(#also felt good 2 get back to drawing smth that Didnt take 3 days straight#oh WINGS that was the secret third thing i got really into trying 2 draw correct bird wings
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COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
”holy shit!”
the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
”satoru, it’s too early for this...”
”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.
it’s beautiful.
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.
the first snow of the year.
and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.
(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.
it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
”never.”
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.
what more could a man want?
”hey, idiots!”
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”
”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.
”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”
a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”
and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”
”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”
a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”
you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.
”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”
”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”
”and don’t play dumb, either.”
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”
you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”
”hmph.”
suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still can’t believe it.
”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”
”— you’re disgusting.”
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”
”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
”… santa can only do so much, baby.”
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”
”of course not! blasphemy.”
a moment passes.
”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)
— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.
he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.
he hopes it never goes away.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#……… thats… a lot of tags.
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Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.
I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.
Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.
Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.
Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-
Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.
He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.
Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.
The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.
“OH MY GOD DANNY!”
“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”
“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”
When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.
Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.
“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”
He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”
“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.
As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.
“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.
“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”
And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.
“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.
“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.
It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.
And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”
Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.
Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.
Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.
Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.
Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.
With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.
They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.
Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.
“Quickly you two need to go!”
Another shot.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.
Two more shots.
“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.
Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.
But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.
Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.
So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.
They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.
But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.
That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.
That is, until now.
Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.
“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”
“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dpxdc#dcxdp#green lantern#Hal Jordan#Danny phantom#Danny Fenton#Ellie phantom#Ellie Fenton#good parents Jack and Maddie#good Fenton parents#Ellie was just getting some food#she didn’t expect someone to try to rob her!#and she didn’t mean to punch him that hate she was just scared and needed to get back to her brother#Hal has no idea what’s going on#one kid punched a guy hard enough to knock him through a wall#and the other is very clearly injured and also very exhausted by the other kids antics#siblings he guesses#homeless ones at that#and then he noticed the black hair and blue eyes and realises that oh no#he can’t let Batman find out about these kids
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2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered
Tommy's family arc
#911#911edit#911 abc#911 show#911 spoilers#911 season 7#tommy kinard#evan buckley#evan 'buck' buckley#kinley#bucktommy#kinkley#tevan#pick a ship name you guys and thanks for picking tevan the most correct name#anyway analysis time!#looking back with Modern Knowledge tm about why tommy acts the way he does in the past... babygirl you were so closeted I'm so proud#babygirl was back there getting into narnia#he was so resistant to letting go of the pseudo-family he'd found at the 118 in chimney begins#even tho it was a good old boys club that he knew he really didn't fit into he was making himself fit because at least it was something#but then he let chimney in and then hen came around and he saw a very queer person being openly queer and not giving a fuck what they think#and I think his behavior in that episode was trying to support hen as much as he could without outing himself#because like. how do you give up years of relative safety with people who do care about you they just won't like you anymore if you're *you#then he meets buck in s7 which is like 10-20 years later timeline is fake and he's like oh. this is what unconditional family is#and he's like oh. maybe I can come back. maybe I can be part of this again somehow. maybe we've both grown enough#or at the very least he'll be close to something he never believed would really happen for him#rant over tevan my beloved tim minear pillow cold both sides god bless#my edits
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Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 5: Flip Slip.
(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 4.5)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#mdzs au#Yungmang Jiang Training Arc AU#lan wangji#wei wuxian#digital art#Trying out some digital techniques to see if I can get closer to feel/style of my traditional comics.#So far the biggest difference is *colouring* Digital colouring feels...not good. I have complained about this before and I'll complain agai#Before we get into the sad stuff with Yungmeng Jiang in the PD-MDZS comics lets have some lighthearted fun!#Remember that if anything bad happens to these Jiang disciples in the canon comic - they are happy in this AU B'*)#I think one of the funniest things about the teenxian dynamic is how WWX accidently finds things that get LWJ to feel flustered.#My guy wwx goes 'I'm going to lightly bully/tease this nerd 'cause his reactions are funny.' and LWJ goes “My god. He's everything to me.”#Part two of the fun part of this dynamic is that LWJ is ever so lightly self aware enough to LOATHE THIS CRUSH.#Hence why I have been marinating on this 'Accidental Lan headband miscommunication' concept.#This is how LWJ assumes that WWX knows what the band means in this AU. This will be relevant later.#And YES! I am still going to be making comics for this AU. I have so many ideas I simply can't hold onto forever.
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you sick little animal, even death itself pities you.
#uwu art#Rain World#RW Hunter#rain world spoilers#blood cw#body horror cw#blood tw#body horror tw#// ask to tag#i beat rainworld maybe a month ago & now i'm trying hunter. & holy fucking shit man#NOT ONLY DOES THIS DIFFICULTY SPIT IN MY FACE BUT AS DOES THE LORE. i'm so emo#imagine being trapped in a loop. NO THAT'S NOT ENOUGH you also are riddled with tumors that are slowly killing you#your entire existence over & over from this point is to die slowly or find a way to leave the world entirely. the luxury of life escapesyou#die or '' die ''#& if you should die & succumb to your disease then your body will remain to infect & consume others until at last someone comes#& renders it physically incapable. so that you may die twice#WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THE FUNNY SLUGS GET TO BE PUT THROUGH ALL THE HORRORS#rain world makes me so upset it's so good. what the fuck
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i love this brand of image so much
#streamers locked the hell in crafting the goofiest stuff imaginable#its so funny i love it so much ive spent like a week just looking at these#lordy i need to practice expressions more often though i spent too long figuring out how to translate the look on my face to the drawing#didnt feel like drawing the crafting ui so i took it from a screenshot#bite me bozos i do what i want#Callback. Giggle#n is the only one i feel could pull this off#uzis too good j already has the entire wiki memorized and v just wouldnt try it#cyn would be too busy killing villagers with stone blocks to even care so thats a no go too#too lazy to google what minecraft chicken looks like either deal with it#art#murder drones#murder drones n#serial designation n#i have funnier stuff hopefully lined up i just have to get over my own perfectionism long enough for me to start any of it
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Aftermath.
It was an unfortunate truth of reality that heroes were oftentimes a reactive force. They could only respond to what they knew about.
So whenever the heroes uncovered an illegal lab, it typically had a history. Experiments that had been performed there already. Horrors no one in their right mind would want to bear witness to.
But someone had to go through all those records left behind. To risk the worst of humanity’s crimes in search of any potential clues. Often, they found little that was useful. Maybe some closure for the families of the missing, at most. But sometimes, sometimes they did find things. Their work could save lives.
That didn’t change the fact that few in their departments lasted long, and even fewer could ever sleep soundly.
The man took a deep breath and attempted to steel himself. He knew it wouldn’t help.
He clicked on the file anyway.
GIW Research Logs, Project HLFA, subject DP-01, Experiment #0001.
#thinking about how some poor souls will have to go through all the evil lab things to look for clues#and how that could relate to the heroes finding out about the GIW *after* they’d captured Danny#what’s worse than finding a kid being experimented on? *not* finding the kid but knowing in visceral detail that the experiments happened#is he still alive? did he get out? they don’t know. they can’t know for sure unless they find him or see the outcome on one of the logs#but what if they don’t see him die? is he still out there? they can’t stop looking#and if he didn’t survive? they can’t change a damn thing. all they can do is mourn and try to stop the ones that did it.#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#danny phantom x dc crossover#vivisected danny fenton#past vivisected danny fenton#ghost investigation ward#giw (danny phantom)#guys in white#i took way too long trying to word this properly and i’m still not 100% satisfied but whatever good enough
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It would be nice to hear from Wanda and Cosmo! It is kind of nice that you guys have two children like your own family does. Are you two still close to your siblings? Wanda has a sibling and Cosmo also have a sibling just like Timmy and Peri. Do they share some sibling stories to your children?
Wanda and Cosmo both reconnected with their siblings shortly after having Peri. Or, well. More like Blonda reentered their lives once she realized she had a baby nephew. Eventually, they slowly patched things up the more Blonda came to visit Peri.
Schnozmo was dragged back kicking and screaming. Mama Cosma refuses to have her sons live estranged lives now that she has a grandchild in the picture. Schnozmo doesn't know how to handle children, but he's doing his best.
Peri likes Schnozmo because he makes silly noises and funny stories. But he prefers Blonda's theatrics much more and loves playing Dress Up with her.
Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]
#fairly oddparents#fop#fop a new wish#fop cosmo#fop wanda#fop peri#fop blonda#fop schnozmo#cosmo#wanda#peri#blonda#schnozmo#asks#avarus of the west#itty bitties fop au#ive decided that worms on strings are real fairy creatures and theyre used like fox coats in fairy world. lots of implications for this.#you know how kids seem to flock towards the least capable adult for some reason and cling onto them despite the adult trying to avoid them?#peri and schnozmo <3#schnozmo taught peri how to give a convincing lie and how to be charismatic enough to avoid trouble#peri and blonda are like 2 peas in a pod!#peri's very receptive to her dramatic flairs and eccentrics. blonda loves spending lots of her money into getting him elaborate outfits#blonda helped peri with his opening lines for when he met his first godchild. she refined schnozmo's charisma in Peri#MEANWHILE ON TIMMYS END#timmy already has opinions about blonda and schnozmo#theyre neither good nor bad but he cares not for drama and doesn't like that schnozmo's a chronic liar#but he does like that he has caring relatives now! they show up to his celebrations and gives him thoughtful gifts and advice. its nice.#timmy has never told peri about schnozmo's past as a conartist. he knows that schnozmo's doing his best to fix himself for the better#so hes not going to ruin that by telling peri and others about his past
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My mom (and my sister) said that both baby Stan and Ford are adorable but Ford is cuter and she likes him better and I think my heart is shattered.
This post is dedicated to my favorite kid Stanley panels:
My mom didn’t even like him when I showed the one where he murders those two kids 😭😭😭 that’s the best part!!!
#gravity falls#stanley pines#stanford pines#I just wanna hold him and tell him he’s wonderful and creative and amazing#he’s trying his best#hes just a baby HES JUST A BABY#she doesn’t like that he’s a con man but MAYBE he wouldn’t have become a con man if he had a better support group 😤😤😤#I mean c’mon this kid had practically NO ONE#the only one there for him was his brother#and he was always over shadowed by his brother#everything he did in comparison wasn’t enough#and so yeah he takes shortcuts to catch up and then all he knows to do is lie and cheat because anything else he tried to do got shot down#HE WANTED TO DRAW COMICS DAMNIT#and really he was also pretty skilled in crafting! like foot bot and the boat he built with his brother#he probably just didn’t realize that that was impressive because of course it wasn’t his brother was doing things ten times cooler#YOU GUYS WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND HIM THE WAY I DO#😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#AND THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MY CHILDHOOD#WHERE I WAS *ALSO* OVER SHADOWED BY MY SIBLING AND FELT THAT I WAS NEVER GOOD ENOUGH#AND I’D GET IN TROUBLE FOR SHIT I DIDNT DO#AND WAS CONSIDERED THE SCREW UP#THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT.#SHUT UP.
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these are the silt verses, and I name our disciples thus
#the silt verses#sister carpenter#brother faulkner#paige duplass#james hayward#not 100% happy with this but I've been working on it for uhh two months and wanted to get it up before the next ep#cannot stress enough this isn't necessarily how i picture these characters but moreso what I can draw LOL#every time I try to conceptualize them it's like trying to look at someone without my glasses#in that i get vague forms etc but nothing concrete#it's weird bc it's like. the more i relisten the less concrete image i have of them /thinks#though I will say i will die on curly haired + freckles faulkner#and I usually picture carpenter with a simple wavy ponytail#also in terms of scars i like the idea of faulkner having a scar on his hand from the glass in the s2 finale#and hayward having a scar on his forehead from hembrey!#also i don't think hayward smokes but i liked how it looked when paired with paige and her alcohol!#also something something he might have tried once to blend in with the other police officers but never took to it#been wanting to draw something for silt verses for forever so!!#edit: added an alt id in the image description!#uploaded this last night and completely forgot to i'm sorry!#pls lmk if it's too long or not really a good description!
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the leverage team would have had a games night… once. everyone cheated so much and in such increasingly extreme ways that all mentions of monopoly are banned in their headquarters (this makes talking about marks who monopolize the market very confusing)
#leverage#nate wouldn’t cheat but he’d be by far the most annoying still. like he’d conduct a whole Scheme to win and give a little monologue wheneve#he made a good move and everyone would want to kill him#parker woukd obvs be stealing money & cards and she’d move their pieces and swap their stuff#but also she’d try to use her turn to rob the bank#sophie would use neurolinguistic programming and dominate the board w properties#which somehow parker would literally never land on and that’s incredibly suspicious but none of them really know how she could possibly be#manipulating that fact? it’s logically impossible bc they’re watching her roll the die and move the piece and sophie knows which properties#she owns so it makes no sense. but parker is parker and she simply will not be caught (even by sophie’s properties)#hardison has studied monopoly theory (yes there are math theories on how to play monopoly) and /tries/ to abide by them but again. sophie i#manipulating him and parker is stealing from him (and sometimes oddly enough *for* him. new money ends up in his bank somehow) so it’s hard#so eventually he resorts to cheating like Everyone Fucking Else and does pretty well bc he rlly does know what sets he wants etc.#eliot is genuinely playing normally. no cheating no math stuff no schemes.#but he’s just sitting there fuming the entire time bc they’re all very obviously messing with the game and he Knew this was gonna happen bu#goddamn hardison & parker especially know how to get on his nerves (often purposely)#he calms down by making some snacks and. resorting to also cheating lol.#leverageposting
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