#very totty core. to me

[brofightiscancelled]

my reality hc for why totty's eyes look bigger than everyone's else is that he tapes his eyelids which makes his eyes look bigger

[malaierba]

I really like the idea that Karamatsu fits in with any group of people that stands out on purpose, like the punk gang he befriends in the third season, or some of the big personalities that you can find in a theater club.

It made me think back to some of my most eccentric friends and how shocked I was to learn that some of our mutual acquaintances found them tiring, whether it was due to their incessant selfie-taking, need to be the clown, odd fashion, etc

Admittedly I didn't always have the spoons to deal with them, I think the one I struggled with the most was a Team Leader at my last job that seemed to have watched too many Vinh Giang videos and he'd take soooo long sometimes to make an argument 😵

He was a kind guy though, and the only one in the company who seemed to understand "human resources management" and "if this bitch is at capacity we need to do something about her workload rather than pilling it up", and it kind of fascinated me anyway so I'd be patient with him when I could afford it.

Anyways, I guess I was thinking back to when I tried to model, lots of big personalities in the room all the time. It was so fun though. Like NGL I don't really have the natural drive to try to fight for attention let alone the spotlight, I'm more the type "I'll earn it if I can objectively tell that my opinion needs to be heard or if no one else will do a good job managing this group", but if the people are kind at their core then the energy is really energising. There's something that will always fascinate me about people who aren't afraid of embarrassment, who'll do what they want to do without letting self-consciousness hold them back.

All of this to say that Karamatsu would probably fit right in in such a group, and I hope he maintained the contact with the punk guys. I kind of want to write a fic about what happened between 18!Osomatsu-san and Osomatsu-san, because the high school graduate we see is GLARINGLY NOT THE KARAMATSU WE KNOW.

It's made obvious to us that he likes showy people and people who can at least speak with confidence (as seen by the way he ogles his adult self lol), but he's also obviously not quite there. I suppose you could argue that at the time he was troubled by his family situation, although Choromatsu's memory of highschool (admittedly an unreliable narrator) paints him as having the backbone of a wet papertowel.

Whatever made Karamatsu become so Karamatsu-esque happened after graduation, and this switch in personality may have collided with Ichimatsu's own withdrawal, and made their dynamic go from:

"very close during middle school > we still see them have lunch together in high school > except at the end it seems Karamatsu was eating alone, Ichi probably choosing to hang out with friends instead > ichimatsu as an adult can't stand Karamatsu's behaviour (although he's still a Karamatsu Boy fsr? He's so funny. I guess he still likes his personality beneath all the glitter)"

I'm rambling lol. After watching the movie I gotta be fr, Ichi, Kara and Jyushi's change in personality seldom leaves my mind. So many dynamics changed? I think a lot about Totty too, although I can see his evolution more clearly, likely because it was more about "pulling away and trying to build an independent identity" and I HC that it coincided with Choromatsu trying (and failing) at college, not only giving Totty the chance but straight up forcing him to do stuff on his own.

AHH I really want to write a fic about all of this but there's so much planning that I need to do. Karamatsu and Jyushimatsu stump me bro, what happened to them? What was the trigger? Why did it come AFTER highschool?

Even Ichimatsu is more reasonable to me, much like Totty. I think he suffered hardcore social masking burnout, I think he maybe tried to follow Choromatsu's intention to join proper society, but he didn't get that far. Awareness hit him in the beginning stages and with it followed an inability to force himself to do something that was so obviously not himself, unable to continue to force himself to fit a societal race for which he's just not built. And I see why, following that, he'd start getting support and comfort from Osomatsu, who's just too honest to pretend that anyone actually wants to become a wage slave, and of course he'd prefer to help by staying besides Ichimatsu rather than by nagging him to stop being a NEET (cough Choro).

Man this was a ramble lol. And I still have no clue about Jyushi and it drives me crazy LOL, maybe Osomatsu played a part too? He'd call him out on it, I just wish we'd understand what it was that triggered the delinquent act in the first place.

Anyways. Can you believe this started as a musing along the lines of "Karamatsu is not the problem actually he just needs to find his scene" lol

[tottymatsuno]

I liked your thoughts on Totoko but I actually requested Todoko, Todomatsus girlymatsu counterpart. I don't blame you for getting them confused though, their names are very similar!

SCREAMS AND CRIES IM SO SORRY I WASNT PAYING CLOSE ENOUGH ATTENTION....DSLKNDSLKSLDKG

favorite thing about them

Todoko is a pretty good cisswap for Todomatsu! I enjoy that she's almost a completely different character from him but that their core behavior is almost exactly the same! Both of them are spoiled! I think her pastel mori girl aesthetic is very cute and in character bc like... I'm 2015 mori was OUT - just like how Totty's fashion is typically outdated. Another thing I enjoy is her creativity! You can tell she has a cute blog, and she's veery cute.

I also think Todoko's characterization is fun, she's just as willing to throw random insults out there and then can't take any of the heat directed back at her. It's adorable, we all love a good snob! She's also clearly just as willing to pretend to be more aware/knowledgeable about things while being deeply socially unaware. Love that liar.

least favorite thing about them

Ma'am... You can't wear white and a tea length dress on someone else's wedding day. Glad one of her sisters gut punched her bc ik the bride was gonna. Also canonically she gets into mlms that sucks.

favorite line

brOTP

I think girlymatsu sue is funny

OTP

todoko x me??? her n totoko, also Todoko having her Sacchi/Aida polycule lol... I also saw some art w her and Futsumaru that was adorable.

nOTP

Ik the show itself doesn't consider the brothers to be related in certain aus but still don't ship them any of the brothers no matter what au. It still skeeves me out.

random headcanon

She's into DIY, and generally has all of Todomatsu's hobbies old man interests. So she on days shes relaxing stays posting selfies of the fish she catches. While she doesn't loiter like Totty she def just hangs out in places to just be a menance. I also think she's bi with a strong preference for women and wants to have kids but is terrified of the process. plus she'll have to find a partner.

I also think her weird photography hobby is very sincere, and she's into environmental sustainability. I don't think she's good at it! Buut I do also headcanon she works in the photography/design section at an advertising agency.

unpopular opinion

we all need to pay attention to her! also we need to make her base state more like Todomatsu - the two of them should pretty much be exactly alike personality wise, just their actions and goals should be influenced by the ways they were raised. Also we need to focus more on her being futch. the fact she's not futch in canon is actually kinda a hate crime and disgusting imo?

song i associate with them

favorite picture of them

[moonlightwinterdxxix]

Here again with a story idea 😂 A day where all the brothers have plans for to go out but there's sudden expected construction work outside their house so they literally can't leave?!? (Let's assume the Matsu parents didn't think their NEETS really had anything to do outdoors that day so they didn't bother to informing them about it haha) Maybe either a hilarious series of escape events or forced family bonding time? 😂

Ah, @yisongye Here it is!! 😂😂 I hope you enjoy my interpretation of this very interesting 2020 experience 🤣🤣🤣

~~~

The bedroom door slid open and slammed against the wall, and he screamed out, “Hey, guys! Guess what!”

Karamatsu raised his chin from the hand mirror, smirking. “Yes, my dear older brother Osomatsu? What might you have upon you as to call for your excitement?”

“There’s this really big gamble that’s gonna happen in Pachinko today from a visitor!” Osomatsu informed, a pair of fists rocking in his exhilaration. “And here’s the big deal: she’s a chick! A very pretty one too! I have no idea what she would want as a penalty aside from money but I’m dead-set on challenging her!” Osomatsu flushed, sultry in a green fantasy. “Ooh man, oh boy, I’m not just gonna give her a run on her money! I’m gonna challenge her into having s** with me!” He laughed maniacally, a predator’s villainous cackle.

Todomatsu scoffed in amusement, rolling his eyes. “Well, try as hard as you want. You’ll never succeed—you’ll be a virgin NEET forever.” He angled his phone, checking himself in the selfie feature of his camera. “On the other hand, there’s a very nice girl that Atsushi informed me will come to the mixer. I’m planning on going out to buy myself a nice new jacket later so I can look nicer come Friday. There is a sale at the mall, after all, so I wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Can that beat my luck though?” Choromatsu boasted, popping the collar of his green shirt. “I managed to get VIP passes to Nyaa-chan’s concert. So all of you might be hopeful, but I’m meeting my cat idol in a few hours. So weep in your misery, everyone. Your Choromatsu is going forth into another world.”

“Heh,” Karamatsu retorted, narrowing a perpetually theatrical gaze. “Might I remind you first, my brother. Fap none of the dazzling women that might catch your eye, no? Set a good example to all of your brothers, non?”

With his smile wilting, Choromatsu sputtered as his face went rosy. “Wh-Wh—You shut the hell up, Shittymatsu! I know stuff, you moron!”

“Heh! Good for you, brother! For my luck shines upon me like it came from heaven itself!” Karamatsu flashed them his teeth, touching an eyebrow with two fingers. “You see, my brother, my day too flows with the passionate love from Akatsuka-sensei himself! Today I have been welcomed passage into the core of Akatsuka Ward itself, and I am to meet with a lady of whom I blind date for us was set! Hm, I thank Chibita for his kind heart, how could I have known that he would know such a precious soul—BOEHH!”

Ichimatsu slammed the back of Karamatsu’s head with an unplugged iron, and Karamatsu tumbled down onto the floor. “I bet your sorry ass that you’ll be meeting up with a dishwasher, you piece of crap.”

Jyushimatsu hollered out, “As fun as meeting with girls sounds nice, me and Ichi-nii decided to go to Sealand instead! There’s this annual dolphin show that happens every so often, and after attending it once I decided to invite him to the next one! I spent my entire allowance on getting us front-row tickets, so he has a nice experience when watching the show! The dolphins are always trained so well, once I had a dream of wanting to be one too.”

Ichimatsu grinned slightly, amused. “Hm, and after that I’ll be taking Jyushimatsu to the cat shelter. I’ve made an appointment to adopt one of the cats there—Mom and Dad already let me. She’s a very young one, about two months old, found beside a river where she almost drowned. I felt bad for her and decided to keep her so she doesn’t drown herself again. Her name’s Kawa, and she’s a plain white one. I hope she likes it here at the household with me.”

“Awwww~” the collective chorus of his brothers cooed lovingly, and Ichimatsu flushed bright pink and turned away with his hands smashed to his ears.

“Shut up! Stop shedding attention to my shitty life!” Ichimatsu exclaimed miserably.

“Either way, it seems that all of us have plans for today,” Choromatsu laughed, over from his former humiliation as he shrugged his backpack on entirely. “Anyway I need to go now. The arena could get pretty crowded if I came in much later than twelve.”

Osomatsu darted his gaze to the clock to Choromatsu then back again. “But it’s eight-thirty.”

“The earlier the better.” Choromatsu lifted his shoulders, chuckling. “Perhaps I can eat lunch while waiting too. Can’t watch a concert with an empty stomach. We need energy for screaming at the top of our lungs.”

“As if you don’t do that everyday already,” Osomatsu murmured, but remained unheard.

To Choromatsu, “Yeah, I agree,” Todomatsu said, standing up from the couch and patting his pants. “I’d better get to the mall early before it gets too crowded. I mean, sales are still sales, aren’t they? I don’t wanna be stuck in a traffic of people before I see something pretty.” He directed himself towards the cabinet and rummaged through the pockets of one of his hoodies, grabbing his wallet and stashing it into his current pants. “Yep. Imma go for now. See you all later?”

“Yeah, sure!” Jyushimatsu exclaimed, waving. “Later! Have fun!”

“Kiss Reika for me, okay, Fappymatsu?” Osomatsu derided, the curves of his features smug.

Choromatsu scoffed in reply as Todomatsu tittered, and then the bedroom door shut as Choromatsu and Todomatsu exited.

A minute passed.

And then...

“EEEHHH???!!!”

The rest of the Matsuno household were already out the bedroom and down the stairs, sliding into sudden halts as they saw Choromatsu and Todomatsu frozen in front of their door. They were both with mouths so rounded that their jaws were on the floor, their eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Their fingers were spread out from their hands at their sides, legs parted.

“Totty? What’s wrong?” But then all the other four were soon to realize it, and with matching, elongated yells all six were better classified with the term ‘identical’ as they all sported the same gawking, disbelieved expressions.

In front of their front door, the ground was a literal swimming pool of wet cement. Across that, there were careless-of-them construction workers with complete top-volume cranes and drillers, the workers saluting each other and bearing wide blueprints as long as a man was tall. This occupied the front porch all the way to their gate, nearly tore down completely, now granting the brothers a perfect view of Matsuyo and Matsuzo as they stared at their own sons, a pair of shopping bags dangling from their mother’s arms.

“Wh...” The first with a voice managing to come out his lips, Choromatsu averted his gaze to their parents. “Mom?! What in bloody hell is this?!”

“Ah, that!” Matsuyo laughed, unbothered in the slightest by the unexpected construction. “It’s just a bit of construction, my NEETs! I didn’t think I needed to tell you since you can handle yourselves, but never mind that! Don’t worry! It’ll only be about three days until you can go outside the house again.”

“Three days?!” Osomatsu exclaimed, face contorting in horror. “But that sexy-chick gambler will leave the city in three days!”

After shooting his brother a pointed look, Karamatsu yelled out the more proper response to their mother’s statement, “How are we supposed to leave the house?! And how are you two getting back in?!”

“Ah, don’t worry about us,” Matsuzo said, chuckling lightheartedly. “We booked a stay at the hotel about a week ago because we knew about this. Plus we bought a ton of groceries last week, so the fridge was practically an entire factory of sushi and takoyaki. I’m still surprised that there was only about a shelf left of it before we left the house three hours ago.”

“Th-That was our storage?!” Todomatsu sputtered. “Our food?!”

“Gee, I wonder where all of it went,” Ichimatsu sarcastically drawled, maliciously digging a dagger-sharp gaze against Jyushimatsu, who had gone from pale to red in a matter of seconds through the transition of realization to shame.

“No, we can’t survive this!” Osomatsu protested, gesturing wildly at the commotion lining each space of their front. “Mom! Dad! This is worse than suicide! No, we need to get out of this house! You can’t expect us to stay locked in here the entire three days, do you?! We’re your sons! You know that!”

“And we’re your parents,” Matsuyo retorted, her glare making Osomatsu and his brothers all shrink. “And you know well enough that we hate it when you have no consciences. This is punishment for illegally performing on the streets a month ago just to get money for a fish sale for Totoko’s sake! Grow up! Cod, you’re all a bunch of oversized children. You’re lucky we still gave you a storage of takoyaki.” Turning her nose up, she said, “Let’s go, Matsuzo-dear. We have that specialized screening on that one movie, right?”

“Of course, darling,” Matsuzo said devilishly, internally guffawing at his son’s anxieties. “Shall we?” He extended his arm.

“My pleasure.”

All six began yelling in unison as their parents began walking away, striding off with the pride of victory and the blessing of their lack of child tomfoolery. The brothers all tumbled down defeatedly on the floor, groaning in exasperation. It was Jyushimatsu who remained standing, mind calculative as his pupils dilated and his mouth was covered by a hand. Then...

“I think I can make that jump.”

“Ah, I see you wanna die early,” Todomatsu chortled groggily, unimpressed. “Ichimatsu-niisan, take notes. Your medal’s been snatched.”

“No!” Jyushimatsu contradicted. “I think I can make that jump! Then when I do, I’ll get all of you a ladder or something so you can get across.”

“Sure, I believe you,” Osomatsu said casually, pouting. “You’re the same guy who can turn into a living Jyushimatsu virus. If you can jump that gorge of death then go for it.”

“Idiots, it won’t work,” Choromatsu finalized, crossing his arms. “He won’t make it. Trust me.”

~~~

“Or not. Of course. I rest my case.”

Preparing himself, Jyushimatsu bent his legs.

“On three, Jyushimatsu,” Ichimatsu announced. “One...two...three!”

Jyushimatsu bolted, and with the speed of a fictional being he raced across the entire room until his feet were no longer on the ground, and he was hovering in the air, his shadow overlapping gray as his form paralleled the top of their doorframe. He was only by the first half of the entire cement pool when gravity played its part and tugged him downwards.

With his arms up, Jyushimatsu yelled out a stainless “BOEHBAA!!”, only stopping when a cross-crossed surface dug into his butt and he was pulled back into the house.

And dropped on the floor with a thud, tilting his head towards Todomatsu and the butterfly net he had in his hands. “Thanks, Totty.”

“I told you it won’t work,” Choromatsu grouched.

“Work or not, where was this butterfly net from?” Todomatsu questioned, scratching his head in confusion.

Jyushimatsu said, “I also got it from Dayon’s stomach.”

Todomatsu immediately panicked, dropping the net and struggling for the closest sink.

“Aha! I have a new plan!” Karamatsu extolled, spreading his arms wide. “My brothers, this plan of mine is guaranteed to entrance our grand exit! Be amazed, my brothers! We shall be able to access our hopes and dreams on finding the romance, enjoyment, and entertainment that our lives have waited for! My brothers, join me!” He began spinning around dramatically, a hand sailing to his back pocket for a rain of rose petals that he sprayed over the floor. “Grab a pen, and wonderful stationary. We are writing letters.”

Everyone stared at him dumbfounded, except for Ichimatsu, who bluntly said, “Kill me now.”

Minutes later, all six of them were gathered around the living room table, color-coded papers assigned to each brother. At the center of the table was a pack of markers, as well as some glitters none of them (but Karamatsu, apparently) knew they even had. At the head of the table, Karamatsu smirked at them, a finger-gun connected to his jawline as his sunglasses hid his dancing eyes. “Now, pick up a pen,” he instructed.

They all did, grabbing the marker colored with the hue of the sibling closest to them. Karamatsu picked last, raising his pink marker. “Step two, revisit your talents in mastery. Perfect, swooping calligraphy, as a dazzling prince such as us possesses.”

“Bro, I failed art class because of calligraphy,” Osomatsu deadpanned.

“Now,” Karamatsu pronounced as if no one had spoken, “Take the tip of your pen to the page. Then with the watery softness of a fountain, draw the letter ‘I’.”

Though hesitant, everyone followed.

“Good, my brothers. Next, add a space. Then, the letter ‘L’.”

They obeyed.

“Brothers, the letter ‘O’.”

They complied.

“The letter ‘V—”

“Karamatsu-niisan, what’s the message you’re making us write?” Choromatsu asked bluntly.

“Um...” Karamatsu made a heart with his hands, smiling boldly, “It will say, ‘I love you, dear cement! Please let us pass through your jinxes, allow us passage because you reciprocate my feelings to you!’ Oh, brother, the ground will harden almost immediately because of passion! I can see her heart beating from our kindness! Oh, brother, my brother, it shall make her weep tears of rock that would melt into a river of the soul! I see it, brother! It shall work, brother!” He was dancing in his reverie, nearly crying. “Oh, brother, my brother, sweet brother—BOEH!”

He collapsed on the ground, and Ichimatsu dropped his fist. “How about, ‘Brother, shut the eff up’.”

“Ugh, this sucks!” Todomatsu whined, tossing his paper away. “You’re all stupid and useless! Now I’m never gonna be able to look attractive enough for the new girl.” He buried his head in his arms on the table. “It’s hopeless for me. I need to be stuck with a bunch of ‘overgrown children’ until Atsushi sweeps her off her feet.”

“No.” Osomatsu stood up, all serious. Everyone looked at him. “There’s still hope. I think there’s one more thing we can do before we can say that we failed.”

Choromatsu lackadaisically suggested, “Request the construction workers for a way across?”

“Even better.” Osomatsu straightened his body, chin up, spine vertical. “Everyone. Off to the roof.”

Silence (...)...

“...eh?”

It was even louder on the roof than outside, because the entire view was there to present itself. The machines were huge, matted with soil and cement, some of the yellow on the bodies faded or whitened. Five of the six of them watched the entire thing with fearful anticipation, the giants in front of their house like dragons hovering over a field of lava. Whatever plan this Osomatsu-niisan of theirs had, it had better be worth it. Because so far, it looked like death was going to be the option here if it weren’t success.

“Boys,” Osomatsu announced, hands on his waist. “It’s time. Jyushimatsu, come here.”

Gulping, Jyushimatsu didn’t protest as he allowed himself to be led by his oldest brother, scarily close to the edge of the roof. Sweat ran down the sides of his face, his legs trembling in his discomfort. But he stayed there with his hands at his sides, staring straight and down towards the valley of Tartarus below.

“Karamatsu, come here,” Osomatsu instructed, and with the same worrisome posture Karamatsu stepped next to his eldest and fifth-born brother. “Karamatsu, go over Jyushimatsu’s shoulders.”

Karamatsu sputtered, and Choromatsu let out a “NO!” louder than the entire construction company combined.

But Choromatsu was ignored as Karamatsu timidly climbed onto Jyushimatsu’s back, and rested his thighs over Jyushimatsu’s shoulders. Both of them were perspired and horrified, already awaiting doom before a signal can even be clarified. Jyushimatsu clasped Karamatsu’s legs like it was giving him reassurance, but the threat of failure was still too strong for that.

“Ichimatsu, you next!” Osomatsu called out, and Ichimatsu greenly approached the building tower with his chin dipped and his eyes sullen. Internally, he was mouthing his last will and testament.

But he climbed nonetheless onto Karamatsu’s shoulders.

“Okay, my turn.” Osomatsu climbed onto Ichimatsu’s shoulders, and the weight began tugging down on Jyushimatsu as a wobble began to wrack their brother building. Hands grabbed legs, butts nestled tightly against napes, and lips went pressed as three of them stifled the screams that were growing in their throats.

“Choromatsu! You’re up!”

“This is dangerous, you idiot eldest!” Choromatsu reprimanded, arms wide for emphasis. “No more kidding—you’re literally trying to kill us!”

“Wouldn’t you die for Nyaa-chan?” Osomatsu inquired calmly.

Choromatsu was up over Osomatsu’s shoulders ten seconds later.

“Finally! Totty!”

On top of the tower, Todomatsu shook harshly as he grabbed the sides of Choromatsu’s head for dear life, legs intertwined over Choromatsu’s chest. Actually, most of them were like that. The only exception was the oldest brother, as determined as an eagle, staring straight through the obstacles separating him from making out with a beautiful gambling girl.

“Jyushimatsu, on three, run back, and then jump.”

“We’re gonna die,” Ichimatsu rasped with a plastic smile.

“Yup,” Karamatsu agreed in a tiny voice.

“On three, Jyushimatsu,” Osomatsu repeated, fiercer, and Jyushimatsu stepped back, all his brothers doing the same with the connections binding them in that formation. Jyushimatsu’s legs were shuddering. The pores on his skin were leaking.

“One...two...THREE!!!”

Eyes shut, Jyushimatsu made his run and jumped.

A few seconds later, at the other side of the gate, there were six bodies lying on the streets they’ve cracked, car horns roaring angrily in the traffic they caused.

~~~

Matsuyo tapped her feet. “I don’t think I need to scold you anymore. You know very well what you’ve done, right?” She crossed her arms, tilted her chin. “And because of that, there won’t be any more takoyaki. Not just because you absolutely don’t deserve it anymore, but because we can’t afford it.”

“Eh? Why not?” Osomatsu asked, then whimpered when he tried to move his head a little. With a full body cast matching those of his brothers’, there was no twitching a pinkie nor a strand of hair on the hospital beds.

“Not only because I have six sons confined with full body casts following surgery,” Matsuyo said madly, “but because of the damage! Not only did you break almost every bone in your body but you broke the road itself! There’s gonna be so much construction in front of our house now and guess what! We are the ones who need to pay for it!”

“Are we that fat?” Karamatsu sobbed.

“Think about what you did, you NEETs,” Matsuzo moaned, massaging his temples. “This didn’t just ruin our day with all these expenses. But your day too. Didn’t you all have anything better to do?” With that, Matsuzo and Matsuyo left the room, shutting the door behind them.

When they were completely gone, Jyushimatsu whimpered, “So...No dolphin show?”

“No cat...?” Ichimatsu followed up miserably.

“No clothes...?” Todomatsu wept.

“No Nyaa-chan...?!” Choromatsu cried.

“No date?!” Karamatsu tearfully yelled.

“No sexy-as-hell gambling babe?” Osomatsu whispered.

They all went quiet.

Then together, they all cried as one.

[winedwords]

Aleister | Wicked Games | Black

Title: Wicked Games

Pairing; Aleister Black/unnamed OFC

Words; 3985

Summary; Run darling, for I am hungry.

Warnings; Werewolves, magick, smut, slight dubcon, outdoor sex, alcohol, non graphic descriptions of death, murder, and dismemberment. 

Author’s Note: Hi. I’m sorry I’ve been gone. I’m trying to be better and get better, I’ve been struggling with anxiety, depression, and one hell of a writer’s block. Please accept this as my submission and tell Raini she’s pretty okay? Its still Halloween on the Best Coast.

Run. Run. Run.

Don't look behind you, don't think about the snapping twigs and the howls and yips and growls behind you.

Just run.

It was that mantra that kept me moving forward even if my lungs were starved for air and the muscles in my legs were screaming from the overexertion. I thought I could feel his breath at my neck and it spurned me forward, dodging and weaving through the trees. Every time I blinked, I saw his burning amber eyes and his growled words echoing in my ears, the fear still just as fresh as it had been when I first heard the screams.

Do not let me catch you. It's a game. Just - it's a game. Please... Please, don't let me catch you. I don't want to win this game, not now.

When Aleister Black had first rolled into my small Florida town, I had a hard time meeting his eyes. Danger and the threat of violence seemed to ooze from every pore in his body, let alone his intimidating presence. He was tall and broad, tattoos covering every visible inch of his upper body, his eyes sharp and calculating as they roamed over everyone and everything. I remember him walking into the diner where I worked the day after he'd moved to town and a hush had fallen over the establishment, even the rowdy bikers in the corner booth went still.

Of course he'd sat in my section. It was just my luck that he would. I remember being struck by how he had moved like a large cat, all sinewy muscle and effortless grace in what was clearly an expensive navy suit. When he'd sat at the counter and eyed the menu in front of him disinterestedly, the sleeves of his suit hiked high, exposing even more colorful ink high on his wrists, the patterns and symbols disappearing up into the sleeves of his jacket. My hands had shook something fierce as I had poured him coffee, somehow by the grace of whatever divinity exists, I had not spilled more than a drop.

"Relax, katje. I am another patron of your establishment, just here to enjoy the hospitality my new home has to offer."

His lightly accented voice was smoother than the hundred dollar bourbon I had snuck a nip of during the holidays and the way his sharp eyes had softened just a touch had done wonders to soothe my frayed nerves. I felt trapped in his gaze, but it wasn't something uncomfortable, oh no, his small smile had chased away any fears of this man. It was his words though that had seemed to break the spell of silence that had befallen the diner and the usual ruckus of Sunday breakfast had resumed.

He never did order anything beyond his coffee nor did he introduce himself, he just sat at the counter surveying the people of the diner over the rim of the tan mug that seemed so tiny in his hands. At the time, it hadn't struck me as odd that he seemed to be paying attention to the rowdy group of bikers in the corner booth. I made sure to top off his cup every time I passed by and I would be warmed to my core by the small, soft smile he would always send my way before it was wiped from his face as he turned to resume studying the occupants of the diner.

It was while I was tending to a particularly difficult group of teenage girls that he had disappeared and I was almost hurt that he'd left without saying goodbye. I had come back to his seat, heart heavy for a reason I didn't quite understand to clear his space of the empty cup and the small carafe of cream, when I saw it. The fresh, crisp hundred dollar note, underneath the saucer. I had looked around, eyes wide, for the mysterious man who had left a ninety eight dollar tip for a two dollar tab.

I didn't find him.

The next day, high ranking members of that biker gang, Los Lobos de Muerte, began to go missing. At first, local law enforcement had chalked it up to natural power struggles that sometimes shook criminal enterprises such as theirs. It wasn't until they began finding the bodies that the meetings that they were having near the end of my closing shifts began to get serious, the lawmen's faces dark and lined with worry and tension.

They had tried to keep their voices down as to not alarm whomever may have been in the diner that late with them, but I always seemed to catch a word here, a phrase there. They had been finding bodies in the woods, bodies that had looked like they had been mangled by something very large and very angry. The grizzled old police chief had looked gray in the face as he had muttered that he hadn't seen anything like this since the Lobos had driven the Vampiros out of town in the early nineties, when he had been a fresh faced homicide detective.

That was the overwhelming fear then, a gang war.

The nights I worked the late shift were not my favorites, as I would have to walk the ten minutes to my small flat alone and in near total darkness, with only the odd streetlight and my cell phone to illuminate my path. Since the bodies had begun being found, it was like I could see the bodies of dead bikers at the backs of my eyelids, my imagination conjuring up vivid and disturbing images of what those scenes must have looked like. I had chalked it up to my wild imagination then too that there was nothing to the feeling of a predatory pair of eyes watching me during my walk home.

My day shifts were a delight. Like clockwork, thirty minutes after my shift would start, he would walk in to the small diner, seat himself in my section, and patiently wait for me to turn my attentions to him. It was on the fourth occasion that I finally learned his name, Aleister Black. It was on the seventh occasion that he had kissed my knuckles goodbye, leaving me with a permanent flush staining my cheekbones and the sensation of walking on air for the rest of the night.

Beneath the cool and intimidating exterior, was a thoughtful and quiet man. He had a carefully articulate opinion on everything, whether it was the news of the day on the old television behind me or which of Luis the cook's pies were better. He was unerringly gentle, or so I thought, and mild mannered. Aleister had told me of growing up in Amsterdam, of his passion for his profession, professional wrestling, and his interest in collecting old vinyl albums. He'd even sought fit to show me personal photos, like those of his small puff cloud of a kitten named Totty Potato and of the wall of flash tattoo art he had slowly been putting together in his home.

I ignored the healing bruises on his knuckles. The faint traces of something rusty brown underneath his trimmed nails and lining his nail beds. The barely there, but still suspicious stains of the same color along the hems of his pants. The small cut below his eye had made me ask questions for a moment, but he had quickly given me a story about tripping while trying to avoid stepping on a mischievous Totty who had gotten underfoot.

We had fallen into an easy routine and I wasn't ashamed to say that I was infatuated by the man. I like to think that we became close during those moments in time, that I had gained a friend whom had the potential to be so much more than a friend.

It all came to a head tonight.

I was invited out by Sarah, one of the other waitresses in the diner, to this house party happening on the outskirts of town which she claimed was hosted by one of her friends. Halloween in our small town wasn't a joyous occasion, as the holiday had been marked by a string of disappearances every year for as long as anyone could seem to remember. The senior citizens in town would warn the young children in town to avoid going into the woods at night, for the things that made those sounds would surely eat them. The teens had found it to be a rite of passage, whoever could get the farthest into the woods would be seen as some sort of hero.

It was as we got older that the woods began to make us wary. On more than once occasion, I thought I had seen something staring back at me, only for it to disappear once I had blinked. I would have been happy to never go near the woods again, but my coworker was insistent. She was a bit of a wild one, always showing up to her shifts late, sometimes still drunk, with a half feral grin on her face.

She insisted on dressing me up as a woodland nymph, all gauzey material and chiffon and wild curls with strategic streaks of gold shimmer and glitter placed all over my body. Sarah had insisted that we'd be indoors all night, that there was no need for a jacket, that the tiny dress and the skyscraper heels were completely appropriate. I had agreed, especially after she had nudged some tequila shots my way.

The trip to the small house where the party was being held passed by in a blur of giggles and tequila. We had taken a cab and I dismissed it as a trick of the light the way her eyes seemed to flash a burning gold every time I would throw my head back to laugh uproariously at whatever joke the cabbie had told us, but when I turned to her with my brow furrowed, there was nothing.

We'd heard the party as we had turned onto the dirt road leading to the house, the bass reverberating in the air. When we had pulled up to the house, it was clear that this was a party unlike any I had seen or attended before. Motorcycles were lined up in a neat row on one side of the driveway but the other side was littered with bodies, some seemingly passed out, others milling and stumbling about.

I didn't have time to think as Sarah grasped my wrist in an iron grip so tight that I was sure it would leave bruises and dragged me from the cab and through the front door, the bass of the music swallowing my protests. She released me as soon as we were in the middle of the writhing dance floor and I had lost myself in the music, undulating and writhing in time with the frantic beat.

There was no concept of time passing, as I giggled and danced with both Sarah and nameless, faceless strangers alike without a care in the world. There was a peculiar energy to the room, something that spoke to the pleasant hum of alcohol in my veins and the primal side of my subconscious that would have terrified me if I had not been so inebriated. I had been enjoying myself with a ridiculously attractive man with long brown hair and a smile that damn near liquefied my panties, when I was pulled away roughly, stumbling backwards. My back was pressed against skin and leather, an all too familiar tattooed arm wrapped possessively around front.

I could see my dance partner's brilliant blue eyes go wide as he put his hands up in surrender and I could feel the rumble of growled words, which sent the other man retreating into the crowd with his proverbial tail tucked between his legs and Sarah was practically beaming, the light playing that trick again where her eyes appeared gold and maniacal.

"Do you like her Aleister? I got her just for you, just for tonight! She's perfect!"

He would have responded, I could feel the growl from his chest down to my core, but both he and the music were cut off by a pulse of energy that made every hair stand on end and every instinct in me screamed to run. I would have taken off if it weren't for his arm banding tighter around my chest as a cry went up around the room. Oh God, it was not a trick of the light.

The vast majority of the partygoers had those same golden eyes, their faces shifting ever so slightly to something sharper and more predatory, and all the attention was focused on me. I stiffened with fear, trembling something terrible and it felt like I had been dunked into a tub of ice water, sobriety hitting me like a freight train. No one dared to make a move though they did stare hungrily at me and I felt pinpricks in my hip... Were those claws?!

I could feel the tall man behind me shift on his feet, leaning down to whisper into my ear, though instinctually I knew that everyone in the room could hear his words like they were shouted.

"Stay close to me and no one will touch you. Just think of this as a game, katje. I will take care of you."

I had barely nodded my head when he barked at the horde of partygoers to go outside and they followed obediantly and without question, though Sarah seemed to linger amongst the last to leave, her face filled with malice and triumph. Aleister waited until everyone had shuffled outside to whirl me around, his normal sharp blue eyes suddenly a startling burning amber and the rough palms of his hands braced on my shoulders to keep me in place.

"Listen to me and listen to me closely because there isn't much time. You are precious to me and this was not the way I wanted this to be. You are going to see and experience things tonight that I wouldn't wish for you. I will do my best to shield you from the worst of it, katje, but you must promise me this. You must not let anyone catch you once it starts. Get out of the woods and to the road as fast as you can."

I blinked glibly, trying to process what exactly was going on.

"I-I don't understand, what is happening Aleister? I'm scared, this isn't like you and what is happening with your eyes?"

His nostrils flared as he took a deep inhale, the pupils of his now gold eyes blowing wide as I could make out the nervous bobbing of his Adam's apple through his beard. His hands tightened on my shoulders and he leaned in close, his eye contact unwavering. Aleister was close, oh so close, wearing nothing but a leather vest with intricate patches in a foreign language and strange symbols and a pair of dark jeans that had too have been painted on. The heat was radiating off of him and soaking into my cold with fear body.

"I can smell the tequila you had before you came here. I can smell the whiskey that Cole drank before he started to dance with you. I know that your boss at the diner yells at you if you're not early to your shift in the office. I know you're terrified out your mind right now. I'm asking you to trust me and do what I say. I will explain as much as I can."

The earnestness of his words and the honesty in his eyes had me nodding in assent before I had even realized what I had done. I couldn't take it back, as he had grasped me by the hand, interlacing our fingers, and pulled me to the backyard.

As soon as we had crossed the threshold, a cacophony of cries and howls went into the air, the blood thirst suddenly and painfully clear. Whatever warmth that had been imparted on me by Aleister's closeness had been chased away yet again by the ice cold wave of fear that pumped through my system. Sarah was there, at the front of the crowd, looking feral and hungry, ruthless glee clear in her body language.

The man next to me raised his hand and the din quieted instantaneously.

"This one, she is mine to hunt. Only mine. The bitch who brought her here though..."

This wasn't the Aleister who had comforted me inside. This wasn't the quiet and gentle man who kept me company during my shifts. This was the man I had caught glimpses of that first time he had strolled into town: powerful, commanding, and cold. His claiming words sent a shiver of fear and... anticipation? down my spine. The horde of people in the back turned their hungry gazes to Sarah, who's face went pale and fearful.

"She will be the first sacrifice to Herne tonight."

A victorious chorus of yips went up as the group moved as a single unit to surround Sarah, her cries for mercy and pleads barely audible. There was a primordial electricity in the air and it was affecting everyone, some sort of shift overtaking everyone. It was that first cry of pain from the center of the group that made the watchful Aleister turn to me and order me to run.

Do not let me catch you. It's a game. Just - it's a game. Please... Please, don't let me catch you. I don't want to win this game, not now.

He was different, like he was bursting through his skin and could barely contain his energy. His teeth were bared and sharper than I remembered. I needed no other provocation, kicking off the tower like heels and taking off into the woods, screams and the sickeningly wet sound of flesh tearing following me.

I could see him at the corners of my eyes, alternating between from running on all fours like an animal and running faster than should be possible on two legs. It was hell trying to not think about the forest floor cutting into my feet, thorns and stones having cut the soles of my feet open and bloody long ago. I knew he was toying with me, getting close enough to growl  my name or breaking twigs, just to drive me further into my panic. It was when he reached out to touch my arm, that I knew I was done for.

The sudden touch to the back of my arm startled me just enough that it broke my concentration on the path in front of me and I tripped heavily over an exposed tree root. The impact of the fall drove the air out of my lungs as pain bloomed in my hands  and forearms. Not one second later, Aleister was upon me, flipping me over to face him as he loomed over my body, his knees bracketing my hips and his hands pinning my wrists to the ground.

"I'm sorry. katje. I didn't want it like this, didn't want to hurt you. This... I'm not strong enough to fight this. The call, the magick is too strong."

It was at this point that I realized he was completely naked and... painfully aroused if the heavy length pressing into my abdomen was anything to go on. Whatever magick had taken a hold of him, was beginning to affect me, a warm and pleasant tingle starting at my extremities and working towards my center, the buzz in my veins competing with my fear in a way that was maddening.

"You said that this was just a game."

He shook his head wildly, hair slick with sweat.

"Its the Hunt. Once a year... I'm so sorry, it's too much for even me to resist."

What possessed me to crane upwards and brush my lips against his still baffles me, as did my words, "I trust you. Take what you need."

He groaned and then his hands were everywhere.

The fabric of my dress and my undergarments shredded underneath his grip and his mouth was leaving violent, open mouthed and bruising kisses along my neck and chest, teeth digging in hard enough to leave imprints of his too sharp to be human canines. The buzz of the Hunt magick was pumping through my veins, fanning the small embers of arousal into something almost painful.

He'd shifted so that my legs were around his hips and the blunt head of himself was brushing up against my slick core, catching in a way that drove little gasps out of me and sent my hips rutting upwards like I was in heat. His grip around my wrists was painful as he growled a warning to be careful, but I paid no mind, the haze of magick having already driven the sense from my body. It took several tries, but I finally rolled my hips in such a way that I caught the tip of his cock at my entrance and then I pushed my hips upward to impale myself on as much of him as I could.

Aleister barked at the sudden penetration, but wasn't caught off guard for long, driving himself into me with a force that sent all the air out of my lungs and my eyes wide. He was a force of nature then, pistoning himself in and out of me at a merciless pace, his teeth bared in my face. I was a creature of sensation, mewling and whining and screaming with every thrust.

I made the mistake of, in the foggy red haze of lust and pleasure, of raising my hips to meet Aleister's. He apparently took it as a challenge to his masculinity because I blinked and I was on all fours, with his hand gripping my hair painfully tight and his teeth drawing blood in my shoulder blade. I wasn't sure if it was his teeth or the feel of him impossibly deep in me or some sort of combination of both but my voice was driven from me and I had no choice but to claw at the dirt and pant under his body's assault of mine.

The coil that had been tightening in me at a too rapid pace was at the verge of snapping when he reached between us to pinch at the little bundle of nerves just above where we were joined and I screamed as my vision went white.  Neither the tremors that wracked my body or the way that my internal walls clung to him greedily seemed to slow Aleister down and I was soon just a raw and exposed nerve ending of pleasure.

My memory of what happened after that was spotty. I know  that we spent several hours rolling around on the forest floor, taking our fill of one another in the most primal and carnal of ways. Even through the red haze of the Hunt magick and lust, I could vaguely recall a tall, impossibly tall man, with hair as red as fire and the most beautiful of antlers watching us almost proudly before disappearing within a blink of an eye.

I woke up to the sun peeking through my windows, completely naked but clean, in my own bed. I was sore, painfully so, but my cuts were cleaned and my poor feet bandaged. Next to me on the night stand was an overly large bottle of water, three protein bars, and a carefully folded note. My body screamed, every inch of skin seemingly bruised and every muscle shaking from over exertion, as I rolled across the queen bed to reach the note.

We need to talk. I will be at your home at nightfall.

Herne was among us last night.

Aleister. xx

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[foodieworldmelbourne]

Why Bianca Spender is skipping Australian fashion week

I dont think I can capture everything I want to in a traditional show format, she explains. My runways are never straight.

Cut from the same cloth ... Bianca Spender (right) with her mother, designer Carla Zampatti. Last year, Spender staged one of the standout shows at Fashion Week, featuring a diagonal series of catwalks that snaked through the crowd. The critics loved it but photographers hated not being able to capture the perfect front-on shot. Over a shared meal of grilled whiting fillets, a dish of fregola with seafood that is like a more chewy risotto, and salads, we discuss the front, back and sides view of fashion, as more people explore fashion through two-dimensional images, often on their smartphones. Spender believes social media, specifically Instagram, has had a huge change on the way people can market ideas. I feel lucky because my clothes are better in movement. When online shopping first came out and everyone was straight front, back, sides, I was like, You dont have any idea how that skirt floats or feels, and I was really struggling with working out how to translate my ideas. Movement is at the core of how Spender designs and produces her clothes, joking that skirts must pass the Martin Place test, named after the notorious wind tunnel in the Sydney CBD. Since becoming a mother to two sons, now aged seven and 10, those tests have expanded to include the carrying the baby test to determine dress lengths (Spender doesnt own a pair of jeans).

Costume collaborators ... Spender with Sydney Dance Company's Rafael Bonachela.Credit:Louise Kennerley Spenders obsession with movement was put to the ultimate test recently, when she designed the costumes for the Sydney Dance Companys 50th-anniversary production of Cinco, under artistic director Rafael Bonachela. Some of the dance movements were so physical that three costumes ripped during rehearsals, and there were many repairs required. Each [costume] fitting, the scope of movement was amazing and even if I had mimicked it I couldnt mimic what would happen to the costume when it was on [the dancers], she says.

Fregola, calamari and mussels at Totti's.Credit:Wolter Peeters Spender said the project, even if it has forced her to sacrifice other work this year, was a dream come true for the one-time ballet student. Every family photo from the age of five to 11, I am in my ballet costume. I loved it so much I wouldnt take [my costume] off, she says. I call myself the tortoise. My mum loves running fast and loves winning. Bianca Spender Spender's gazelle-like physique and flowing strawberry blonde hair means she could easily pass as a professional dancer, although she admits age and the way she moves has taken its toll on her body. I only recently realised at the physio when he asked how I move everything is always very extended, I am not holding my core very much," she says while demonstrating how she would pick up a vase off a table, arm outstretched. "I love how everything looks when its long but then you dont protect your body.

Grilled whiting fillets at Totti's.Credit:Wolter Peeters Spender grew up in Sydney the middle of three children to fashion icon Carla Zampatti and John Spender (her parents separated in 2010). She recalls living in big, spacious houses where classical music was often playing and small talk was non-existent, the family preferring to tackle politics or business at the dinner table, sometimes to the bemusement of Spenders classmates. At school she would demonstrate her eccentric fashion taste on mufti days, but it wasnt until Spender reached adulthood that she truly understood her familys notoriety in Sydney's cultural scene.

Bianca Spender has formed a reputation at fashion week for her non-linear catwalks.Credit:AAP Only years after I left school and I [reflected on] certain conflicts with certain kids that Id never understood. People would say, Well your mum is Carla Zampatti, and I was just like, Oh.

The Zampatti-Spender family on the steps of their Sydney home in 1986. Clockwise from left: John Spender, Carla Zampatti, Alex Schuman, Allegra Spender, Bianca Spender. Credit:Ian Charles Cugley/SMH My mum is pretty normal, shes a postwar immigrant. What that means to me is you have to finish all your food, you live in a beautiful house but you understand the value of money. For a pre-teen Spender, that meant school holidays spent working at her mothers inner-city office, doing every job from tea lady to banking clerk. I am the most ridiculous jaywalker because I have been walking around the city since I was eight, Spender jokes. A firsthand apprenticeship in the Carla Zampatti offices, coupled with her familys work and social ethic, meant Spender had quite a feminist upbringing. I never felt the need to answer to a man, dress for a man, or been dependent on a man for anything. They dont have to approve of how I talk, what I wear, what I earn, what I spend my money on. Last year, Spender reached another milestone when she and Zampatti divided their businesses into separate entities, including a new head office in Rushcutters Bay for Spender. The pair are clearly close, often travelling together overseas or to fashion shows in Australia (both brands are carried at David Jones, for example). But when it comes to their work practices, Spender admits they are quite different. Loading I call myself the tortoise. My mum loves running fast and loves winning. She has racing car blood in her family (both Zampattis brothers were race-car drivers) but I am about the journey. Its not that I dont want the end result to look great. You can get a good result and have a terrible journey but that doesnt mean the same to me. I am [about] the long game. Which comes back to Spenders Fashion Week dilemma. She has a big vision of a project involving 10 women who have influenced her, dressing 10 other women, using her carefully archived collections. Its still morphing but she knows it wont be ready by mid-May, when fashion week takes place. I am probably being too ambitious in what I want to achieve out of it. But at least if I am pushing myself to strive for something. I wont do what I expect and Ill find that new form. (A week after our lunch, Spender phones to say she has decided to sit out of Fashion Week and will instead stage a solo, more intimate event in early May.) Recently, Spender has experimented with salon-style showings, where she revels in getting up close with the clothing and the customer. As someone whos more comfortable at a dinner party for 10 than a cocktail function for 300, Spenders aversion to big-production shows is understandable. At least if I am pushing myself to strive for something. I wont do what I expect - and Ill find that new form. Bianca Spender At a big party, my partners wings will get bigger. Whereas if you have me at a dinner party, I am passionate put me around lots of people and they are asking, Whats wrong with you? I am so not a show pony I find shows an incredible creative process but the way you only get eight to 10 minutes to present your world I remember once saying 12 [seconds] to [stylist] Mark Vassallo and he said, No, 12 is way too long. And I said, That dress took 12 weeks to get right and I cant have it on stage for eight seconds. I want to challenge that.

The bill at Totti's. One point on which Spender and her mother are in lockstep is on the retention of Australian fashion talent (Zampatti funds a scholarship for a UTS graduate to study overseas, with the intention of them returning home). Unlike some of her peers, Spender, who worked in France and Italy in fashion for four years after completing a commerce degree, has resisted aggressively chasing sales or the limelight overseas. We know we [Australia] are leaders in sport compared to our population ... in fashion theres still a, Whats everyone else doing? attitude. New Zealand has a very strong vision for its fashion with a small population but Australia is often very outward looking. We need to find a bit more confidence in ourselves and our own vision and our own style. Our need to be revered by overseas comes from our lack of supporting ourselves and our culture Whenever [a journalist] writes on a designer, its X is stocked on [e-tailer] Net-a-Porter. Do they need to be stocked there for you to love them? A lot of people go bankrupt trying to catch the overseas dollar. I am focused on building my Australianmarket. If my international market comes quicker, great, but I am not running after it. I dont need it to prove to myself that what I do is unique and has a strong vision. THE BILL, PLEASE Totti's 283 Bondi Road, Bondi 02 9114 7371 Open: Mon-Sat 11.30am-10pm, Sun 11.30am-9pm Melissa Singer is National Fashion Editor of The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age. Most Viewed in Lifestyle Loading https://www.theage.com.au/lifestyle/fashion/why-bianca-spender-is-skipping-australian-fashion-week-20190410-p51csm.html?ref=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_source=rss_lifestyle

[brofightiscancelled]

(taking a really long drag off a cigarette) i know the joke is that osomatsu at 18 is the exact same as osomatsu current but didnt he seem angrier to you. just in general. i cannot imagine how teenage angst would hit you if you were also a sextuplet

like he was probably as carefree and stupid as usual with literally everyone else to be fair. but w his brothers it's like ough. i wonder if the "getting sick of the sextuplet schtick" hit him the hardest in HS. he's the only one who isnt visibly annoyed in the sleeping scene but he's also the one saying "why are there six of us?"

i thibk osomatsu has genuine qualms w being a sextuplet. we see him complain abt it to chibita in episode 2. i dont think they were totally unfounded or made up on the spot, that's stuff he was holding deep in his core

and i think esp in an environment like high school, and w being such an egotistical brat, oso wouldve started resenting not having his own identity just like the others. i imagine he wouldve channeled his clingy brattiness into being a nuisance to all of his peers. it's just that now, in adulthood, he literally doesnt have anyone else in his life, so his brattiness has fallen back onto his brothers.

ironic to how he is now, i think the "why are you asking me? that's your problem" response to totty comes from resenting the sextuplet status quo they'd established as kids of them expecting him to know what to do and expecting to follow his lead and having eldest brother expectations of him forever and ever. why do you assume we're going to be together forever? don't you know i'm going to make it out on my own in the real world?

it's interesting it was between totty and oso cuz it seemed like hs totty wanted things to stay the way they were the most. regressing and acting even more kid like. so to me oso saying that to totty specifically is a like "why are you expecting things to stay the way they were forever?" kind of thing

i feel like (inhaling more smoke) it's kind of like the fight at their grad ceremony kind of unlocked those revelations for them. we've just had the worst fight of our lives but at the end of the day we all have to take the same route home to all sleep in the same futon. we're going to be brothers no matter what. for better or for worse we're shackled sextuplets forever and ever.

Everything just kinda clicks because even though he hates it, they're stuck together. And he doesn't have any idea on what he's gonna do, he knows Totty doesn't know what to do, and it's probably easy for him to guess that the rest of them don't know what to do either. They're stuck together and none of them have a plan for the future besides that. i think oso was coasting by on this idea that "everything would work out somehow" (very oso-like) and this is the wakeup call that no, if left unattended, this is how your problems will fester

i also really often think about 18oso's reaction to finding out they're neets in the future. yes this is funny yes this is deeply sad but i also remember being really taken aback by it when i first saw it

like obviously after you think about it for 1.5 seconds like, yes, obviously oso didn't realize at age 18 that he was going to be a jobless bum well into his 20s. being a jobless bum wasn't what he had envisioned for his life. but juxtaposed with how carefree current osomatsu is with his life it really is funny to realize like oh, yeah, there was a point in time, most of their life really, where they thought they'd be something when they were adults

i think oso had always wanted his own identity like any other teen, but now that the only people left in his life as an adult are his brothers he's just clinging to his identity as niichan. but maybe this is the smoke inhalation talking

i think if oso had any other friends than his twins he would not be this annoying. but he doesn't