#who has two thumbs and a bunch of adulting things to do?!

[purpleqilinwrites]

instead, you.

a/n: i'm just having a lot of thoughts about ex-boyfriend hoshina who's also your childhood friend!!!

fandom: kaiju no. 8

character: hoshina soushirou

genre: angst

info: established relationship (hoshina is your childhood friend -> ex); takes place pre-canon

warnings: -

synopsis: what else were you supposed to do when you got a text from your ex-boyfriend that said he had a dream about you last night?!

word count: 2.3k

Hoshina Soushirou

There were only a few moments in your life that you felt warranted a hearty "What the fuck?" spoken out loud, using up all the breath in your lungs for one extra, extra, extra large exhale into the universe. This moment happened to be one of them.

You rubbed at your eyes, as if trying to scrub away any lingering sleepiness. It didn't work, so you settled for squinting as you propped your phone up on your pillow to get a better look at the words on the screen.

Sou >>> had a dream about ya last night.

Your "What the fuck?" left your lips in a tired sigh rather than the scream into the void that it deserved. It was only a text, though cryptic and very unexpected. There was something about the timing that made you suspicious. For one thing, it was nearly half past two in the morning of a work day. You would have to get up for your internship in a little more than three hours. The other more pressing issue about the text was that it has been about three years since you broke up with him.

Well, technically, he broke up with you, but that wasn't important right now.

You were about to fall asleep when that jingle that you hadn't heard in years sounded from your phone. It startled you enough that even in your half-sleeping state, you managed to expertly rip your phone from the attached charging cord in one blind swing of your arm.

What was your ex-boyfriend doing, dreaming about you and having the audacity to send you a text about it? You briefly considered that maybe he had changed his number within the last three years. That maybe this text could've come from a random person who had mistakenly typed in your number when they intended it for someone else.

Your bed was starting to get too hot beneath you, so you rolled over onto the cold side of it to continue whatever it was that you were doing (what you were doing was just making problems for yourself when you should've been sleeping).

You knew Hoshina was a person of habit. He got his first phone and phone number when the two of you were ten years old, and he never thought to change it throughout the years. Even when an overly persistent senior who was in the kendo club with him hounded him for the time of day during your middle school years, he never changed it. There was no reason for him to start, not even because he had broken up with you and then quickly (though not painlessly) phased himself out of your life.

Against your better judgement—

Sou <<< ꒰๑ʘoʘ๑꒱???

You sent him the second thing that came to mind (you had enough decency as an ex to refrain from sending 'what the fuck?' after three years of radio silence. He was still your childhood friend. He was still someone who held an important place in your heart.) and reattached your phone to the charging cord, before you shifted back to your preferred side of the bed and fell into the shallowest of sleeps.

The rest of your day was comparatively uneventful, which you were grateful for. If it was a text that Hoshina had sent to you by accident (no, you weren't going to entertain the thought that maybe he meant it for someone else. In the wake of him breaking up with you, you came to understand that you didn't know him as well as you thought you did. In spite of it all, he was still your Sou, no matter what.), then your uninspiring reply should've bored him enough to not want to continue the conversation.

Still, you couldn't deny that you were curious. If it was still him on the other end, what did he want to talk to you about?

Sou >>> hey, hope i didn't surprise ya too much?

You weren't about to give Hoshina the satisfaction of your second "What the fuck?" in the big span of one day, so you bit it down.

It took you the whole of the twenty- or thirty-something steps you took to duck into a nearby convenience store to realise that you didn't have to watch your mouth anymore. You only started doing it because at some point in your tween years, you were fully convinced you were going to marry into the Hoshina family. For that, you had to be genteel in speech and manner, a quality that you weren't born with but were willing to practice for his sake.

The chance of that youthful dream (though, obsession was more accurate. You kept a physical swear jar in the form of an old Pokémon pouch on your person at all times. Even if the penalty was only a couple of hundred-yen coins, Hoshina reaped the bounty of a mont blanc from your pouch more often than you liked to admit. The people who staffed the café by the station knew the two of you by name and by sight at the point when you graduated from high school.) happening was almost zero. Well, Hoshina hadn't yet gotten married, so the chance remained a non-zero number, but it was still as close to zero as it could be.

The sharing portion of convenience store matcha-covered warabi mochi failed to soothe you. In the time it took for you to gobble the entire plateful down while hunched over a standing table in the back of the store, Hoshina sent you yet another text that dragged a more playful variety of "What the fuck?" out of the depths of your (unwittingly still waiting, still hopeful) soul.

Sou >>> c'mon, machamp! aren't ya the least bit curious 'bout my dream? i'm dyin' keepin' it in over here!!!

A kid with the roundest eyes and the brightest yellow cap you've ever seen pointed at you with both hands when you swore out loud. You gave a placid smile, barely stifling your laughter, as the mother tugged the kid away from you and out of the convenience store with a disapproving scowl on her face. Not your kid, not your problem!

Sou <<< mon chou i really hope ya dont take this the wrong way but perish then ( ͡♥ 3 ͡♥)

His instant reply punched a cackle out of you as you exited the store with arms empty of beer (though you fully intended on getting just a little bit tipsy that evening as a treat, you didn't need the alcohol stabbing holes in your brain-to-mouth filter while you were texting your ex), and you started on the way home. You were skipping along with the listless home-going crowd who managed to escape the office before the dinnertime rush descended into the public transportation system.

Sou >>> thought ya loved me???

The apology you threw over your shoulder was lukewarm. You were too focused on what to say next to mind the dirty look returned by the person you had unknowingly shouldered out of the way to secure a little corner for yourself on the packed train.

Sou <<< past tense mon beau ʅ（´◔౪◔）ʃ

There was a part of you that was dangerously close to taking it back when you checked your phone to see he hadn't responded after passing five train stations. You sighed, pocketing your phone once again. The other part of you (the one with a certain malicious streak) wanted him to suffer a little bit. Or a lot. It was how you felt after a grand total of over thirty missed calls in the span of half a day to this very same number (and to the various landlines of the Hoshina estate, but you didn't want to count those calls too) when you found out he was hospitalised due to injuries sustained in the line of duty.

The worst thing was that you heard the news from his caretaker who had retired from her long years of service in the Hoshina family compound by then. Miwako-san still kept in touch with Hoshina, and she made sure to update herself on the happenings of his life so that she could share them with you. For that, you were endlessly grateful (if not for her, you wouldn't have known he was held in high enough esteem by Captain Ashiro that she personally invited him to join her division. You wouldn't have known he was later promoted to her second-in-command. There was a fancy bottle of red wine with his name and the date of his promotion on it, still wasting away on a shelf in a wine-aging storage unit you were paying for.).

Even if all you had in hand was a single thread that still tied you to Hoshina, you'd hold on for dear life. And hold on to Miwako-san you did.

Sou >>> i'm off till saturday. ya mind if i come over?

You were still warm from a long soak in the tub when Hoshina finally graced you with a response.

Midnight was looming over you when you flopped onto your bed, still unmade from when you left in a hurry from oversleeping that morning. Stupid Hoshina and his stupidly bad timing.

Sou <<< if ya know where i live now we gonna have a problem ya creep (ง •̀_•́)ง

It was nice to be able to speak to him again. That much you could admit. But why was he making himself available to you suddenly? Why now? You had just learned how to trudge along in your life in his absence which was a much more vacant space than you'd be willing to confess, if ever.

You tried dating around to occupy yourself after Hoshina stopped taking your calls (though you realised now that obtaining a new hobby might've done you some good rather than merely accentuating what you lost. If you had learned how to crochet instead, for example, you could've spent your long and idle summer breaks whipping up that viral sweater instead of shelling out a few hundred thousand yen on the branded one the singer wore. For example.). Even if you didn't feel anything vaguely romantic towards that guy from one of your classes who asked you out, you accepted his invitation "to try". You dumped the guy partway through the second date when he revealed to you that he hated chestnuts as you pondered out loud if you should have a mont blanc or a matcha tart for dessert.

It was only after you had stomped and cursed under your breath the whole way back to your apartment that you realised why a meaningless preference like that angered you so much.

Sou >>> 'm not a creep!!! asked miwako-san. please? i need to speak to ya in person.

You justified tossing your phone to the side of your bed with the excuse that your hair was still damp, and that it was bad to sleep with damp hair. Reaching over to grab the towel you laid over the back of your desk chair, you sat up in your bed and used it to scrunch the remaining moisture out of your hair without urgency.

That jingle you reserved just for him rang from somewhere to your right, and you jolted in your surprise, dropping your towel onto your blanket.

Hoshina was calling you at two minutes past midnight, like the creep he swore up and down that he wasn't. It dragged what must've been your fourth or fifth "What the fuck?" of the day, and you let him know as much in the text you sent after pointedly declining his call (it told you everything you needed to know that he didn't call a second time. Not that you were hoping he would.).

Sou <<< ╭∩╮ᵔᴥ��╭∩╮

The emoji you sent was quickly buried under a flurry of quick one-word texts from him.

Sou >>> i need to see ya. please. please. please. please. please? please? please? please??? please??? please???

The vindictive ex within you revelled at the word 'please' plastered all over your phone screen. Hoshina kept it up for a while, and you let him have at it. Maybe he needed this as much as you did. Typos started cropping up in the now one-sided string of texts from him, and you realised that he was typing each 'please' individually rather than copying and pasting it. Something about that realisation warmed you as much as it broke you.

Sou >>> i know i messed up big time. i'll come over right now if ya want me to. just say the word. please.

You tossed your towel onto your desk chair and then pressed at the wet spot it left on your blanket for no reason other than to idle some time away. Anything to give you room to think instead of being emotional all over again. You never behaved like this about anything or anyone else. Only him. Fuck.

Like an idiot, you tripped over your own two feet trying to get out of bed and ended up knee-first on the cold tiled floor beside it. Fuck! This was the worst possible time—

Sou <<< i can see ya from my window ya chestnut-huffing creep ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ ) come back on saturday when i got nothin to do after one pm ya understand if ya wake me up early ill call the lawman on ya

Looking at his side profile from your third-floor apartment was too much. Your feet were sweating cold and abundant in your socks, even with your big toe on the right foot poking out of the seam that had come loose more than a few washes ago. Trying to move from the window made your body feel like pudding slapped onto a plate for someone's aggressive jiggling pleasure. You caught the scantest glimpse of him turning to the wrong end of the building (he was looking for you, for once. How long has it been since it was your back that he was chasing?) before crumpling to the floor underneath your window.

Sou >>> !!! thank you, and i'm sorry. i'll be there! see ya saturday.

[misscinnamonroll16]

Brozone headcanons

Clay and Floyd are the stunt men now that they're adults. Clay's always been a little bit of a daredevil, Floyd already died once, why not live a little.

Clay is nocturnal, like the rest of the Putt-putt trolls. His bros throw his sleep schedule off so when they're hanging out, it's not unusual for Clay to just be passed out somewhere or on someone. If they can, they get Clay to bed so he can properly sleep. If not, everyone's volume goes low.

Both Floyd and John Dory took bartending classes. And by took I mean, Floyd just so happened to be sleeping with a bartender who taught him some things. When making drinks, John's proper about it, Floyd is kind of messy. Floyd's over pouring and spilling.

Clay's handwriting is like a nice print. It's easy to read and looks good on paper.

John Dory is good at photography. He mostly uses this skill for taking nature shots but he's gotten good at candid shots of his brothers. He doesn't let them know about these pics bc they don't look the most photogenic but they look like themselves and that's what John loves to see.

JD has dimples

John Dory almost always has at least one weapon on him.

The brothers think JD has a death wish bc he's constantly going after animals that could literally kill him. "John! Don't touch that, it'll tear you to pieces!" "Psh, whatever. If we weren't supposed to pet it then why does look so fluffy?"

Floyd doesn't go into detail about his past. He'll tell snippets here and there but avoid questions. For one, because he's a bit embarrassed about it. He did a lot of things he isn't proud of, drugs, sleeping around, and drinking. For two, he knows that his older brothers still see him WAY younger than he actually is (like how they still see Branch as a baby) and it would just shatter that mentality. And he doesn't want to do that. For three, it's WAY more fun for him if they don't know and have to keep guessing. Floyd has heard them trying to figure out what he spent the last twenty years doing and starts fucking with them.

John Dory definitely has pictures from even when he was a baby and such. Even ones with their parents but he tries to keep those ones tucked away. Branch is going through them when he finds a picture that has been folded in one of the sleeves of the photo album. It's a picture of John and Bruce and their parents. JD quickly snatches the photo and shoves it his vest. Those people looked like strangers to Branch, that picture probably being the first time he's seen them

The brothers know they didn't have a good childhood but John did his best, despite being pretty much a child himself.

John Dory man spreads no matter who he is sitting next or if he's just sitting in a chair.

John Dory wears the one glove to hide an incredibly deep scar. He got into some trouble with some bounty hunters and needless to say, they drove a knife through his hand. He doesn't want his lil bros to know or worry about it so he hides it.

All the boys (like most trolls) are fuzzy. JD and Bruce have the most prominent facial hair and chest hair. They all have leg hair, arm hair, under arm hair, and a happy trail.

Clay and John have the Blond™️ gene (that's how I'm referring to it) where their hair goes through changes. That's why their hair is so much different from when they were kids. In the summer while spending a bunch of time outside, JD and Clay's hair gets lighter, Clay being a light yellow and John being a soft teal. The others convinced them to do one of those 'take a picture every day for a year' things and make it into a flip book to show how their hair changes color.

The boys really wanted a sister. John jokes that they kind of got one with Floyd

Floyd and John Dory are good gardeners. JD briefly grew his own food and Floyd just has a natural green thumb (not that John doesn't)

Floyd gets random nosebleeds

[blessedbucky]

we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 4.2)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 12k (oh hey look this one is actually shorter than the last)

summary: that second year of high school has a clear division within your mind—before summer and after. this is the after.

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, continuing the existential crisis of realizing a bunch of old dudes poorly control the future of your teenage life, hidden inventory angst, mayhaps some poor coping mechanisms, maybe some codependency

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @honeydew-cheesecake

author note: HIDDEN INVENTORY TIME! also, putting on full blast a couple of common things with autism—strong sense of justice and a love of routines! the next year will most likely be split up again because i have so many plans and most of them aren't good! we do be talking about JJK here. please like, reblog, and comment! it makes my heart flutter!

chapter links: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR [PART I], AO3

[YEAR TWO.]

[PART II]

At the bottom of the mountain path that leads up to campus, you’re seated on a bench. You were here alone as you waited on the car to pick you up, but Satoru and Suguru showed up. They detail the specifics of the incredibly important mission personally assigned to them by Lord Tengen. The more they reveal to you about this, the more anxious you become, the bigger the cloud of dread over your head grows. Your nervousness is made apparently by the way you nervously spin your cell phone between your fingers.

There’s so much about this that you hate. It’s too big. It truly is the weight of the world on their shoulders—the jujutsu world. It isn’t right that they’re being entrusted with something that could change the course of every sorcerer’s life. Shouldn’t that kind of pressure be left to a more experienced sorcerer? This is the work of adults.

Another thing that’s been bothering you…

“Erase?”

Satoru and Suguru are standing in front of you, most likely too nervous to sit still. You’re glad that they’re not blinded by their ego and seem genuinely troubled. Satoru is nervous, though he’d never admit to such a thing. He rocks on his feet from side to side. Coins jingle as he tosses them up in the air and catches them.

Suguru has his arms crossed over his chest, frowning. “Yes,” he confirms quietly. “When the Star Plasma Vessel fully assimilates with Lord Tengen, there will be nothing left of her.”

“That…” You duck your head to hide the sadness that you know is written all over your face. It doesn’t matter how you feel. You are a sorcerer, and this is no time to be soft. At the cost of one life, Lord Tengen will continue to live, sound of mind, and all the barriers that keep sorcerers safe will remain intact. “That seems cruel,” you blurt.

“So…what do you want us to do?” Satoru suddenly asks.

Your head snaps up, attention back on them, blinking in shock. “Huh?”

Instead of Satoru, it’s Suguru that repeats, “What do you want us to do? That’s why we came to you.”

Your brain stutters over their words, unable to process the things they’re saying to you. You sit there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What…what does that even mean?” You press your thumb to the center of your forehead. Stop when you realize you’re copying Suguru. “Why do you want to know my opinion? What does it matter? What I’ve got to say means nothing.”

“What a silly thing to say, Squid,” Suguru scolds. “Your opinion means everything.”

With a little more thought, a little more looking between them and studying them, you finally understand where this is all coming from and where it’s all going. There’s an air about them, more to their nervousness than just stress over the weight on their shoulders. “You want to do something really stupid,” you sigh, “and you want me to give my blessing which also makes me an accomplice.”

“Accomplice is such a dirty word.” Satoru pouts. “Is it illegal to get some advice from our best friend?”

If it was Shoko here, she’d already be walking away. Unfortunately, you care about these assholes. “What stupid thing are you planning to do?”

“Nothing yet,” Satoru answers vaguely.

You ignore him in favor of Suguru. If you need to pout, you will, and he’ll cave because you hardly ever bring it out. “Satoru is right, technically. The decision won’t be up to us. Satoru just asked a logical question—what if the Star Plasma Vessel doesn’t go through with the assimilation?”

“You know what would happen,” you point out flatly.

Satoru pipes up with, “We don’t know that for sure!” You stare at him, deadpan. He gets all huffy because you didn’t just simply accept that. “Look, the world always has a way of balancing itself out. If this person doesn’t want to assimilate with Tengen, then someone else will eventually come along that does want to. Tengen will be fine.”

“Let’s say this girl doesn’t want to go through with the assimilation, what will you do then? Are you going to protect her for the rest of her life? They’ll send every sorcerer after her. You might even have to fight Lord Tengen himself. They’ll label you as curse users—”

“Will they?” The ego is back in play because Satoru declares, “We’re the strongest.”

Suguru tries to soften the severity of this stupid plan by explaining, “We’re too valuable as sorcerers. We’d be severely punished, maybe, but I doubt it. The girl has a caretaker with her, so we can cover them while they make themselves disappear.”

You throw up your arms in frustration. “Why did you even ask me, then? You’ve clearly made up your minds!”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right,” Satoru admits while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Believe it or not, we’ve actually thought about this more than you think we have,” Suguru tells you. “Everything you said is true. We know there’s a possibility that they do actually banish us and declare us as curse users. There’s a chance that we won’t come back—”

“But we don’t want to lose you!” Satoru interrupts. He’s a little too enthusiastic about this prospect because he goes on to excitedly ask, “If we leave, will you run away with us?”

The answer is out of your mouth before you can even give it a second thought. “You know I will.”

There’s a little part of your brain that reasons you should’ve taken more time to think about this, but the bigger part of your brain knows that the answer wouldn’t change. Somehow, that was the easiest yet most difficult answer in the world. No matter which option you chose, there would be a huge shift in your life, so it boils down to what would be easier to accept. If you were to stay behind like a good sorcerer, you would have to find a way to live normally without two of the most important people in your life and that…

The thought of not having Suguru or Satoru in your life is so terrifying that it makes you physically ill.

You’ve started to spiral. It’s not until a hand comes in view and yanks on the string of your hooded sweatshirt that you’re pulled out of your darkening thoughts. When you tilt your head up, Satoru is towering above you, smiling with such a genuineness that it makes your heart hurt.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all work out,” Satoru tries to assure you.

Your voice is weak, shaky. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

It’s either to make you feel better or lighten your mood, but Satoru holds out a crooked pinky. You lock it with your own. Then, to be cheeky, he extends his other pinky to Suguru. “A pinky promise? That’s childish, even for you, Satoru.” But Suguru takes it. And maybe you’re taking this a little too seriously, but you also offer your other hand to Suguru. His expression softens before he’s taking it.

In the end, the three of you are making a promise to each other.

“See?” Satoru grins. “It’s a super promise.”

“Okay,” you accept quietly. “Be safe, then. I’ll see you in a few days.”

***

Gojo Satoru is…

…was a fucking liar.

***

Just as you’ve coaxed the cursed spirit into exorcising itself, Kusakabe’s cell phone rings. He’s been off to the side, insistent to see your cursed technique for himself. Remembering that Sensei said Kusakabe could potentially be the person to vouch for you to become Grade 1, you bowed and did as he asked.

Anyway, the call.

As you approach him, you see him rush through many emotions at once—panic, anger, relief, and resignation. When his gaze darts over to you, he looks at you with a sympathy that makes your stomach start twisting into knots. On instinct, you pull your phone out to check for any texts, but there’s been nothing since Suguru said that he was on a plane back to Tokyo with the Star Plasma Vessel.

Kusakabe calls out your name, gesturing for you to pick up the pace. When you stand across from him, you shift nervously, clutching tightly at your sketchbook. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry,” Kusakabe starts with a soft apology. He takes a step toward you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “There’s been an incident at the school…” You wait on the news with bated breath. It’s bad. It has to be bad, your brain reasons, because you’ve learned Kusakabe is a naturally reserved person. He doesn’t seem like the type to show sympathy so easily unless it’s really, really bad.

“Gojo Satoru is dead.”

The sketchbook lands in the puddle at your feet as you drop everything and run.

You never leave Suguru’s side.

Apparently, he was found outside the Tombs of the Star Corridor—the place Lord Tengen lives. The wounds went deep, needed to be stitched. The medical staff at the infirmary said it was a shock that he hadn’t bled out.

When Shoko returns from Kyoto and clears the medical staff out, she curses their shoddy stitch work. That irritation is turned on you because you refuse to let go of his hand and she snaps at you, but you won’t budge. She harshly tells you to make yourself useful, so you help her remove the top half of his gown. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you have to quickly look away when the red, jagged slices across his chest are revealed to you both.

“That’s going to scar,” Shoko mumbles as she glides her hands over his chest. You’re so close that you’re in her crossfire and the aches and exhaustion from keeping vigil fade away. “Where is…” Her hands, glowing white with her technique, clench. “Did they say where they put him?”

It takes you a few minutes of swallowing down grief before you answer, “They said his body is missing.”

“Yeah,” she agrees hoarsely. “Yeah, that makes sense. That idiot always bragged about the bounties on his head.”

“Or…or maybe…maybe he’s…”

Shoko knows what you’re going to say before you even say it. “I walked past where it happened,” she explains lowly. “Duck, I’m sorry, but there’s no way he came out of that alive.” She powers down her technique. You assume there wasn’t that much damage and he’s been unconscious so long because of some painkillers the medical staff gave him. “They found the Star Plasma Vessel’s caretaker. I’m going to examine her body. See if there are any clues that can lead us to whoever has his body.”

You know you’re in denial. Logically, if he was alive, he would be here, in the infirmary. But…you can’t accept it. You just can’t. “I’m going to find him,” you swear.

“What are you going to do against someone that killed Gojo Satoru?”

You remember the finger of Ryomen Sukuna. The cursed energy that touched you. “I’ll make him tear his own heart out,” you say furiously.

“You’ll give yourself an aneurysm, if you could do it at all.” Shoko puts her hand on the top of your head. “Don’t make us lose another friend today.” You cover your mouth to muffle a sob. She reels you in, so your face is squished against her chest. “There was nothing we could do. We have to accept that.” She bends over and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “This is our life now. It’s what we chose when we became sorcerers.”

But why does it have to be like this?

It doesn’t take much longer before Suguru is waking up.

You have to help him when he tries to sit up and sways too much to the side. The drugs are still lingering in his system, so you nervously watch as he blinks slowly and tries to process. You don’t want to overwhelm him, but you also want to comfort him, so you compromise by reaching out to take his hand and squeeze tight. That simple gesture holds his attention. There’s something about it…or maybe he’s remembering everything that happened before…

Suguru’s expression doesn’t change, but tears begin to trickle down his cheeks.

You practically drag him forward by the front of his hospital gown, desperate to get your arms around him. “I’m here,” you promise as your own tears begin to fall again. “Suguru, I’m here.” His arms lock around your waist. His quiet, hitching breaths are in your ear, and his shoulders are subtly shaking under your arms.

“I failed, Squid,” he chokes out.

It never should’ve been put on you, you want to say but what point is there in that anymore? It doesn’t change the fact that it happened and Suguru was the only one left behind. We can’t save everyone. Empty words. Strength has cushioned you all from the realities of sorcery. Suguru has been told that he’s the strongest practically since you two came to Tokyo. He’s not supposed to lose.

Satoru wasn’t supposed to die.

“I’m here,” you repeat because it’s the only thing that you can think to say.

Now that he’s completely healed and the painkillers have worn off, there’s no more reason to keep Suguru in the infirmary. And when no one is around, he admits that he wants to be left alone in his room. You can tell yourself that you’re terrified to leave him by himself, but, deep down, you know it’s that you’re scared he’ll disappear if you don’t stay with him. This is all somehow so surreal yet so viscerally true. Simultaneously dream-like and so real. Like a child, you want to cling to him. Have you not lost enough already?

The two of you walk out of the infirmary, hand-in-hand. At the sight of Sensei waiting, you puff up like a street cat. You sidestep and put yourself in front of Suguru, flashing your metaphorical teeth and hissing. “Get out of the way.”

Suguru and Sensei both sigh your name. You don’t back down. Just square your chin. “The campus is still covered in fly heads.”

“Go exorcise them, then. You can make more cursed corpses.”

“I’m not here to ask Suguru to handle it,” Sensei gently corrects your assumption. “I agree with you. Suguru should rest.”

You relax a little. “Oh.”

“It would be easier if you can exorcise them all at once.” Sensei frowns. “Or make them disperse, at least. They can exit the barrier. If they make it off the mountain, into the city, they won’t cause too many problems for non-sorcerers.”

You angle your body toward Suguru, glancing up at him with furrowed brows. “Will you wait for me?”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispers.

It’s not what you wanted to hear, but you can’t push him. You wordlessly nod, squeeze his hand, and then he’s walking away, headed toward the dorms. You watch him until he’s completely out of sight, immediately twitchy and nervous when you can’t see him anymore. Desperate to be beside him again, your cursed energy flares up.

“Not here,” Sensei says when he feels you gearing up. “You won’t reach them from here. They’re mostly centralized in one area.” He takes a deep breath. “You need to prepare yourself. They haven’t cleaned up yet.”

Cleaned…?

Oh.

It’s where Satoru was…

For a moment, you doubt that you can ever prepare yourself for something like this. You’re no stranger to gore, though, you remind yourself. You’re a sorcerer. You’ve seen the result of a curse’s rampage. But…those people weren’t your best friend, as cold as it is to think.

The only thing that pushes you forward is realizing that if it isn’t you, it’ll be Suguru.

There’s no way he came out of that alive, Shoko had told you.

You understand now, what she meant.

There’s a small crater that hints to the force that he was thrown down with. Hit with. You don’t know. No, it must’ve been some weapon because…the blood. The blood. There’s so much. It’s splattered everywhere across the concrete. The man that killed Satoru hated him. Loathed him. This wasn’t a clean and professional kill like with the Star Plasma Vessel and her caretaker who were taken down with neat shots to the head.

The monster that did this didn’t even hesitate when he confronted children. Because that’s what you all are, in the end. Children with too much power at your fingertips being guided by old men too scared to get their own hands dirty and all too happy to let the new generations die on their behalf.

And this is already so horrifying as is, but the assassin had to defile these corpses, too.

He wouldn’t even let Satoru have a proper burial.

I just want to find him.

You hunch in on yourself, fists curling, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The shattered pieces of your heart scream that one demand—I want to find him, I want to find him, I just want to fucking find him and bring him home. You know it will never be. This world is not kind. But, nonetheless, someone answers your call. Multiple someone’s, actually.

Around you, the fly heads have frozen in place. They float listlessly, even their buzzing quieted, waiting with anticipation for a command that you didn’t recognize you were preparing to make. The command that you should make, the one for them to exorcise themselves, is on the top of your tongue. What use can the fly heads be? From what you were told, the attacker left no residuals behind. The residuals left behind by Satoru and Suguru would be too faint…

…they would be too faint for a sorcerer to track. A cursed spirit is different. Their senses are different. They’re sharper and more attuned to cursed energy because it is both their life force given by non-sorcerers and a threat when wielded by sorcerers. Weaker spirits are constantly on the hunt for more cursed energy to gain power.

You could command them to search for Satoru’s residuals, but your influence over them will wane with distance until they’ve forgotten the order completely.

Unless…

Unless you can influence a spirit that you know is bound to another.

Die, you demand of the fly heads.

Slowly, they all start to expand around you until they explode with a loud pop. You don’t stick around any longer to make sure they’re all gone. Sensei can take care of that. Just like he can handle the few fly heads that have spread around campus. You’re too busy planning now.

For the rest of the afternoon and the whole night through, Suguru doesn’t speak, and you don’t make him. He really only moves when you do because when you crawled into bed with him, he’d manhandled you until he could curl around you and place his head above the beat of your heart. You don’t ask him about it. You understand the reason that he clings to you. It’s why you can’t stop running your fingers through his hair, can’t stop touching him. You don’t want him to slip away.

Around three in the morning, Shoko texts you. She’s done with her autopsy. Eavesdropping, too. There are no clues. She’s overheard Sensei on his cell phone with higher-ups and they have no idea where to start because so many people have put bounties on his head over the years. They’re also scrambling to figure out how to break the news to Lord Tengen that there will be no merger. You tell her that she’s done enough and to try and get some sleep.  

After you snap your phone shut and drop it on the bed, Suguru immediately picks it up. Your fingers itch to stop him from reading the texts, but that’s not your place. From your position above him, you watch his eyes carefully scan over the text, face unmoving.

The room is bathed in darkness once again when he snaps it shut. You think that’s the end of that, but he whispers, “I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t, either,” you confess as quietly. Even seeing all that blood…this is being in denial. Is that what’s going on? You’ve never had a loss like this ever before. You don’t know what to do with yourself. No. That’s a lie. You know what you want to do. “It’s not fair. That they took him, I mean.”

“I’m going to look for him,” Suguru announces. “I…just wanted this one last night with you.”

You tug at his hair meanly. “I’m going with you.”

“No,” Suguru replies with an air of finality.

“Bullshit,” you snap. You’re not letting this go. “No, you’re not leaving me here like some—”

Suguru suddenly rolls over on top of you, knocking the breath out of you. He lifts up on his hands and knees, shifting up so that his face is hovering directly over yours. With only the glow of the moon, it’s hard to make out the fine details of his face, but you can see the frown, the hard set of his jaw. He snatches your wrists, keeping them pinned up by your head, immobilizing you completely and giving you no option but to look at him.

“He has no cursed energy in exchange for a Heavenly Pact. Do you understand what that means?” Suguru asks harshly. “What are you going to do against that? You’re—” weak. You squeeze your eyes shut, hurt lancing through you. He tries to soften the reality with, “You’re not suited against that type of fighting style. You’re better for support.”

“Let me support you, then!” You dig your nails into whatever skin of his you can touch. “I know I’m weak, but…” Your bottom lip wobbles. Definitely not helping your case. “You couldn’t beat him, either. You…you said that you were split up, so…maybe two is better than one…”

“I’m not losing you. I can’t lose you, Squid. Can’t you understand that?”

“But you want to make me grieve you, too?” You scramble for anything that can make him change his mind. “I doubt we’re going to run into danger, anyway. It’s been so long already that…that he’s probably collected the bounty on both heads.” You lean up to knock your forehead against his. “Please, Suguru.”

“No.”

“You promised! You promised that it’d be me and you!”

As your vision blurs, you can make out Suguru’s expression softening. “Don’t cry, Squid,” he begs. One of his big hands let go of your wrist, cupping your cheek. “Why do you have to make this so much harder on me, huh?” He flops down next to you, carefully guiding you to bury your face in the crook of his neck where you continue to cry. “Okay. Okay, I’ll bring you. At the first sign of danger, you have to run.”

You won’t, but you nod and lie, “Okay.”

Little do you know, you’re not the only one who’s lying.

With the sunlight comes the truth of the matter. You wake up alone, the bed empty, and with a note on the nightstand beside both your cell phone and Suguru’s. I’m sorry, the note reads in his neat handwriting. I’ll be safe, but I’m not risking you. At the very end of the note, there’s a line of text, but you can’t tell what he wrote because it’s so scratched out. The page is nearly ripped on that little section.

You, who planned to lie yourself, have no room to feel so betrayed. Anger, though, you think you’re allowed. Grief crashes over you all over again, too. You chose this life, you know, but shouldn’t children be protected a little longer? It never should’ve come to this. Ten minutes is all you can allow yourself because you don’t know how long Suguru has been gone and you need to find him.

Before you rush out the door, you shoot Shoko a text for when she wakes up, letting her know your plan. You also tell her that if he comes back before you then she needs to punch him in the nose on your behalf.

Late in the afternoon, as the sun is setting, there’s a breakthrough.

By this point, you’re jittery and exhausted. You’ve swallowed down so much coffee to keep yourself going that it’s probably in your veins now, but you’re at the point of exhaustion that it’s just not doing anything anymore. Not only have you been walking around the city on foot, but you’ve been keeping your technique running as you have cursed spirits try to lead you to Satoru’s residuals. With as much cursed energy as he had, it should still be radiating off his body enough for a spirit to pick up. That’s what you’d thought, anyway.

Until every spirit that you pull under your influence just…stops. It’s like there’s some invisible barrier that they simply won’t cross. You step past that point, and they’re compelled to follow you, yes, but they struggle against you. Some of the stronger ones outright free themselves and go running.

Something or someone is scaring them.

The problem is that you don’t know how wide the perimeter is of this barrier, how close or far away that Satoru is. But when a pack of vaguely centipede-shaped curses rush past you, out of the invisible area, you know your solution. Just like in movies where animals are the first to know of a disaster and try to outrun it, curses are acting the same. You will run toward where they are running away. At some point, you’ll have to find epicenter.

As you’re still running, further ahead of you, in the distance, there is an explosion—a bright flash of red light, a boom so loud that it vibrates in your chest, and a shake of the earth that makes you stumble. The non-sorcerers around you do the same, some of them even tripping, but they’re not turning in the direction of the flash. No, between all the chatter, you make out people questioning if it was an earthquake or a terrorist attack.

Non-sorcerers can’t see cursed techniques.

And then there was that red light…

Red.

There is something rising up inside you, something dangerous. Hope. All the blood that stained the concrete, the horror that Suguru described that you know extended to Satoru even if Suguru didn’t witness it himself…that all flies out of your head. This is the only thing that makes sense, you reason. There’s only one logical conclusion for why cursed spirits would be running away, refusing to pass that point. A dead boy’s residuals wouldn’t scare them like that.

He’s alive, you think. What else could it be? Nothing, your desperate heart reasons. Then, it’s on repeat. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive—

Not even five minutes pass before, in the middle of your sprinting, there’s yet another explosion. With this one comes a bright purple light and an even bigger explosion. It sends you stumbling, tripping over your feet, and you manage to catch yourself on your hands and knees, but they don’t come out unscathed. They’re busted open, but you ignore that pain. Adrenaline has you up and back to running.

Looming tall, getting closer and closer, is a temple. Gold and white marble. An eyesore that makes your retinas burn. Is this…the headquarters of the Star Religious Group that Suguru had told you about? One of the two organizations that was targeting them on their mission? It must be. Kusakabe said that the other group, Q, was defunct. Satoru and Suguru even sent pictures posing with the leaders that they beat.

The path that leads to the entrance is lined with tall pillars on either side. The further down the path you run, the evidence of a fight becomes more and more abundant. Some of the pillars are totally crushed, others chopped in half, rubble everywhere, and practically stinking of Satoru’s cursed energy.

Why…why does it feel so different? Are you…you’re not imagining that, are you? For someone that should be on the verge of death, it’s so strong. Stronger than it’s ever been before. The weight of it is almost oppressive. Familiar, but…sharper. You’ve unthinkingly slowed to a stop. Too stuck in thought to move, maybe, or…too scared. It’s as if the connection with the cursed spirits is lingering and their terror is bleeding over to you. Weak and feeble prey against a predator so unimaginable.

This can’t be your Satoru, can it?

“Sketch.”

And the last year and a half of memories comes crashing down on your head when you hear the sound of his voice, suffocating the noise of your panicked hindbrain. When you raise your head, unaware that you’d ducked it down to stare at nothing, he is standing there. A few meters away from you. His blazer is torn open, white button-up underneath it stained with blood, the same as a section of hair covering his forehead. It’s a horrifying miracle…but a miracle, nonetheless.

“Sa—” your mouth snaps shut because your throat clogged with emotion. You don’t know what the fuck you’d say, so you just don’t bother with it. You shut the hell up and run. Tears are blurring your vision, you’re more out of breath than you were getting here because the sobs are bubbling up in your chest, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not until you know that he is solid and real and alive.

It’s when you throw yourself right at him, arms locking around his neck, that the dam of emotion inside breaks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing. “Satoru!” You’re being rough with him. Clinging too tight. One of your hands is grasping tightly the hair at the nape of his neck and the other fisting the fabric of his blazer. “Satoru!”

Satoru mumbles your name, shoulders slumping under your grasp. “Oh.” His voice cracks a little. Then, he’s giving you a hug of his own, hands splayed across your back. “Oh,” he repeats, almost dazedly. “It all still feels so, so amazing, Sketch.” You try to lean back, but he smushes his cheek against yours, sighing in something you’d think is pleasure. “I want to keep feeling this way forever…with you, Sketch.”

“Satoru—”

The breath catches in your throat when you can lean back enough to catch his gaze with your own. How did you not see these eyes before? Something has changed. Infinity isn’t active, but they’re still glowing bright. Sparkling like the sun glinting off the clearest ocean waters. These eyes are beautiful, entrancing, and…almost inhuman. His world has shifted. He has stepped up on another level. He—

Satoru is kissing you.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t pay attention to his face inching closer to yours until you feel the warmth of his breath against your mouth. It’s a soft touch of his lips against yours. You could…you should…stop this. You need to…to…check on him. But…oh. Oh, he cups your cheek, hand so big and so, so warm. His hand is at the small of your back now, a gesture that sends pleasure up your spine.

It’s a clumsy kiss, maybe. You’re not sure what to do with your mouth and your noses bump against each other. Then, he tilts his head to the side a bit and it falls into place like two puzzle pieces coming together. Your eyes flutter shut and instead of pushing him away, you’re tugging him closer by the lapels of his blazer.

Heat explodes across your body when he takes it a step further, tongue gliding across the seam of your lips. You’re not sure if he’s aware of it or not, but it’s a dirty move when he cups your cheeks with both his hands. He tries to pull you closer, like he can’t get enough of this. Of you. And that’s…that fucks with a person’s brain. You’ve been swept up in his whirlwind, so you go with it. Your mouth opens and he’s licking into your mouth. You always thought it’d feel gross, but it’s just…hot. The smacking of your lips, the small noise of pleasure he gives…

Satoru pulls himself away from you, the both of you panting harshly. “I…” He licks his lips. “I am super high right now.”

“High,” you repeat hoarsely without much thought to it. You’re dazed and he’s pinning you down with those eyes again. It takes you a good minute to comprehend what he said. When it hits, your body jerks. “High?”

Instead of doing something like elaborating, his brows furrow, and he turns to look over his shoulder at the temple. “Hey, I need to get Amanai’s body. You might wanna leave.” He faces you again, looking like he’s trying to gather his all thoughts. “I blew a hole in that Zen’in guy with Purple. And…I kind of want to slaughter all those people in there. I can see them in this big meeting room, clapping because she’s dead now. I don’t want you seeing that.”

Don’t do that, you should say.

But how can you find mercy in your heart for people who celebrate the death of a child? Who paid a man to swoop in and shatter your life? Those aren’t good people. They’re not innocent. Shouldn’t they be punished in some way?

“Be safe,” you say instead.

Satoru doesn’t kill them.

Not soon after Satoru left you had called Sensei to tell him that Satoru was alive and found the Star Plasma Vessel’s body. And almost as soon as you hang up the phone after Sensei assures you that Shoko and the cleanup crew will be there shortly, Suguru shows up.

When they walk out of the temple, Suguru comes back to meet you while Satoru goes on ahead to hand over the body to those that will make sure she’s treated with respect. Suguru doesn’t look at you when he tells you that he talked Satoru down from killing them all.

“There would be no meaning it in.”

It’s clear that Suguru is troubled, trying to justify that to himself. While you don’t really believe him…well, no. It’s more that you simply don’t care if there’s meaning.

“You’re right,” you lie as a comfort and reach out to thread your fingers through his.

***

For four days after they come home, you never see them.

Suguru is still texting you—somewhat, anyway, since he’s more focused on taking care of Satoru who hadn’t been able to sleep for three days straight. Still high on…something. You and Suguru were trying to speculate what put him in such a state since there was no point in asking a practically incoherent Satoru. He died, Suguru told you in the middle of night two. I think, he then followed up with. The Six Eyes are fully realized. All the pieces fell in place.

He’s high on the power, you think you summarize correctly.

Suguru thinks that Satoru is finally leveling out when he sleeps for twenty-four hours straight.

You’re the first person to know that he’s awake when you’re walking across campus, planning on a late night konbini run because you can’t sleep, and almost get smacked in the head by a floating wallet. You duck it, but a rock gets tangled in your hair. There’s a bunch of rocks and some empty soda bottles, looking like one of those asteroid fields that you see in space movies.

“Oops,” a familiar voice calls out. “My bad, Sketch.”

“Satoru?” You fully expect him to be there behind you, but when you turn around, there’s nothing. You look off to either side of you, too. Nothing. “Where—” wait. Did it sound like he was speaking above you? You tilt your head up and, yeah, you definitely forgot that Satoru could float even before…everything.

Satoru is cross-legged, floating there in the air. All the debris surrounds him now as if they were planets in his orbit. Your brows furrow. “Why does it feel like you’re showing off?”

“I’m not!” Satoru protests with a pout.

“It just…feels different,” you mumble while trying to figure out what exactly is giving you that idea. This isn’t totally out of the ordinary for him. He was blocking massive chunks of destroyed buildings and tearing apart houses before. “Oh. Your output is so low now.”

“Bingo!”

There was a little delay, but your brain finally catches up. “You’re awake! What are you doing out here? You should’ve gone to see Shoko as soon as you were up!”

Satoru waves the concern off. “I’m running Reverse Curse Technique now. I’m good.”

“You…what?” Logically, that makes the most sense. Despite all the blood, you hadn’t seen a mark on Satoru that day at the temple.

“Yeah! Who knew that getting stabbed in the neck is what it’d take for me to figure out Reverse Curse Technique, huh? Never let Shoko become a teacher. She can’t explain things for shit.”

Avoiding overwhelming emotions isn’t a new concept for you. You’re notorious for it. That doesn’t mean you can’t feel the emotions for Satoru, though. Stabbed in the neck—you didn’t think it was possible for your heart to crack more than it already has.

“Come down here so I can hug you,” you choke out.

Satoru blinks, looking almost baffled by your turn of emotion. Does he really not know how fucked up that is? Can he not understand why you’d be upset? How terrified he must’ve been, you think as you reach out for him when he slowly lowers back to the ground. Sure, he beat Death, but that doesn’t make the sight any less horrifying.

“You gotta stop being such a crybaby or I’m gonna have to give you a new nickname,” he muses when you get your arms around him. His arms slip around your shoulders, crushing you against his chest. “I’m okay, Sketch. Alive and kicking. Got some badass scars and, as the geezers in my clan would say, my Six Eyes are fully realized.”

Be serious about this, you want to demand of him, but who are you to do that? “Don’t make fun of me for worrying about you.”

“Suguru is already doing enough of it, y’know,” Satoru remarks softly. “Go worry about him.”

“I can worry about you both, thanks.”

“You’re cute, Sketch.”

The memory of his mouth against yours makes itself painfully known. Back of your neck prickling with heat, you try to bury your face further against his chest, not wanting him to see whatever might be on your face. In the silence between you two, your mind runs through so many questions. Does he remember? Why in the world did he do that? If it’d been Suguru there instead, would Satoru have kissed him instead? Should you even ask about it? What would you say if you did? Do you even know enough about how you feel for him to have that talk?

Satoru demands to escort you to the konbini when you tell him what has you out so late. He’s almost aggressive when he takes your hand in his and starts tugging you forward again, listing off all the snacks that he wants to buy. At the bottom of the mountain, finally out on the street, you notice that he still hasn’t let go of your hand, so you stop him. You’re fully prepared to talk about it. Okay, you’re not, but you feel like you need to talk about it.

But then, under the glow of a streetlamp, you catch the glint of that scar at the base of his throat.

You’ll bring up the kiss some other time.

***

“What?”

For once, Sensei doesn’t look you in the eye. “You heard me.”

“Did I? Because it sounds like you told me that some old man is here to force Satoru and Suguru out on solo missions—”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out your name. “It’s just to ease them back out in the field—”

“Stop lying!” Sensei’s mouth snaps shut at the sound of your echoing shout. “I’m not dumb! These are assignments that only they can do as Special Grades. The higher-ups wouldn’t bother with wasting them on something the rest of us grunts can do, would they?”

“Please. Calm down—”

“It hasn’t even been three weeks!”

Sensei calls in backup. Looking over your shoulder, expression pinched in discomfort, he begs by way of order, “Nanami, Haibara, let’s end class early. Can you take her back to the girls’ dorm—”

There have been only a few times that you’ve ever been so furious in your life and, not-so-shockingly, they all had to do with Suguru. When you were both eight, inseparable, Suguru had finally confessed where his bruises truly came from. You learned that the lack of food wasn’t from poverty or neglect, but maliciousness. The bruises weren’t from scraps with spirits that he was trying to tame.

You’d been downright distraught. You hadn’t let him leave your house for as long as you could. Begging your parents to let him live with you, offering your plate up if there wasn’t enough food in the house for four people. When Suguru wasn’t in the room, you told them what he said, insistent on your parents calling the police for help because you knew they were supposed to help with bad people and what else were Suguru’s parents?

The first few times, your parents lied and said that they’d handle it. After a year of nothing happening, you’d gone to a teacher instead because your parents outright told you that how Suguru’s parents disciplined him wasn’t their business. Suguru was out for about a week, and you hadn’t been allowed over. When he came back to school, arm in a cast, he told you about a person visiting, and how furious it’d made his parents when that lady left.

Finally, you learned a cruel lesson—that trying to help would only punish Suguru.

Maybe that’s something you should remember right now, but…you’re blinded by that same sense of justice that you’d had as an eight-year-old girl. You have a voice here. You’ll scream until your throat bleeds. If they want sacrifices, you’ll offer yourself up in place of Suguru and Satoru. Just to let them have peace a little while longer.

“Senpai?” Haibara hesitantly touches your shoulder.

Nanami and Haibara, smartly, move out of your way when you whirl around and storm out of the classroom. You’re not sure how much time you have left, but you need to ditch your escorts, so you go back to the dorms like Sensei requested, fuming the entire time. You don’t speak a word to your juniors, scared that you’ll snap at them unnecessarily. They’re just following orders, same as every other fucking sorcerer.

As soon as you’re inside your room, you’re immediately sneaking out the window, and pinpointing Satoru and Suguru’s cursed energies. They’re at the entrance’s torii gate, getting lectured by some withered husk. Satoru, as always, looks disinterested, but Suguru…

Suguru looks tired.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

The old man slowly turns around to face you, eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you’re talking to like that?” For someone that’s hunched over and clutches to his cane with a trembling hand, he sure does have his nose stuck up pretty high in the air. “Ah, I know you.” He says your name. “Mind your tongue, girl. You’ll ruin your chances at success with this type of behavior.”

“They almost died and you’re throwing them back out in the field this soon?”

He scoffs. “Is that what this is about? I’ve spoken with Yaga. They’ve been healed.”

“Are you stupid?” If he can’t scrounge up an emotion in his black heart, you’ll appeal to logic. “Do you not understand that if you don’t give them proper rest and run them ragged then they’re more likely to make mistakes and die? Let someone else handle whatever you want them to do.”

“Who? Like you? Stop acting like a child. You may be a sorcerer, but don’t think you could be of any use other than collecting information. You’re weak.” You hate this man, but you hate that he’s right even more. Is running your mouth really the only thing that you can do? “Know your place.”  

Behind the old man, Suguru and Satoru puff up.

Something ugly is festering inside you as you watch him walk away. You’re not sure that you’ve ever felt so much hatred toward another person. How can such weak people have all this power? What more can you compare them to other than an invasive parasite—hiding themselves away as their host supports them and weakens itself until there’s nothing left and then they’re on to the next pray. That’s how they rose so high. Everyone else threw themselves on the sword until only these cowards remained. It isn’t fair that you’re forced to bow down to them.

You should worship us, you think viciously. Rage is making your body go haywire. You’re trembling all over, fists clenched so tightly that your nails are digging into your skin causing sticky, wet blood to slip through your fingers. Prostrate yourself before us, you wish you could scream at him. How much blood have they spilt with their callous and cruel demands? You can’t even begin to imagine, but you smell it. You taste it. You can’t even register that something is slipping from your nose, over the bow of your lips. Your eyes are losing focus, your ears are ringing, and you’re shocked that you can focus enough to think anymore with how agonizing this headache is.

Prostrate yourself.

A lot happens all at once. Just as someone snatches your upper arm, the higher-up goes down with a crack. An actual crack of a bone. He twists himself awkwardly as he’s going down, ending up spread eagle on the ground right in front of your feet. He turns his head to the side, forehead coated with blood from getting busted open on the concrete. He clutches at his hip, trying to move, but failing every single time.

Then, you’re gone.

Feeling like your stomach drops out under you, along with your feet, you’re warped to a completely different part of campus by Satoru’s hold on your arm. All at once, the world comes rushing back in, and you’re suddenly aware of your body. You collapse to your hands and knees, watching as drops of blood plop on the blades of grass beneath your face. Even this much, holding yourself up by your shaking arms, is hard.

Just being conscious is hard, apparently, because you wobble before you’re crashing on the ground and passing out.

“You were right to bring me to her first. Fuck. She had a brain bleed. What the fuck happened?”

Shoko’s raised voice might be what pulls you back to consciousness. Or the fact that you’re clearly healed now. The only remnant that there had been something wrong is the flaking blood on your face, sensitivity to light, and the lingering exhaustion because she can’t fully replenish cursed energy.

The lack of noise has you turning your head to the side. Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru—all in a circle—have turned to stare down at you. There are varying degrees of concern on their faces, but Shoko is the only one that’s also furious. She points an accusatory finger at you. “You’re going to tell me what you did later, Duck. Do you understand me? Right now, I have to go heal some old geezer’s broken hip.”

Ah. You’d been right, then. A bone had broken.

You broke that bone.

Because you…

In the heat of that moment, you weren’t comprehending what was going on. What you were doing. But you know now. And the implications of it terrify you. What’s even worse is that you weren’t even consciously thinking about doing it. It just happened, so what if it happens again by accident? What if one of those things thought in the heat of the moment that you’d never say out loud comes true?

You didn’t want this. Not this. You never asked for it. This is too much power for one person. How do you shoulder the weight of something like this? You can’t. You don’t have it in you. You’ll hurt someone, you know it, and it’ll be someone that you love, and when it happens—

“Squid.”

Suguru’s hands appear in your blurry line of vision. They’re meant to be a silent question, to ask if you’re okay to be touched right now. You answer by grabbing his wrists and yanking them down to your cheeks. You don’t know what possesses you to do it. Maybe it’s to pull him in closer because seeing his softening expression makes you feel less overwhelmed. They understand better than anyone, after all, that power is a burden.

It’s not a full breakdown. More a moment of overwhelming pressure and guilt. Suguru and Satoru, both now sitting down next to you in the grass, don’t say anything until you calm down. When you’re just sniffling, Suguru’s thumb that’s been stroking your cheek stills. “What happened, Squid?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Satoru speaks up. “Your persuasion isn’t only limited to cursed spirits anymore. It’s anything with cursed energy, isn’t it?” You nod, mouth twisted with misery. “We really need to come up with a name for your technique.”

“Not the time, Satoru,” Suguru sighs. He brushes away some hair that’s plastered across your forehead. “You don’t seem as surprised by this as I think you should be.”

“Shoko put the idea in my head at the start of the term,” you mumble. “I told her about that mission with you—the one where I caught your cursed spirit and that other sorcerer’s shikigami. I could maybe understand why yours was affected because the spirits have different cursed energy than yours, but…the shikigami is a manifestation of a sorcerer’s energy. Shoko took it to its next logical step. I didn’t want to believe her.”

“It was so weird.” Satoru is tapping his bottom lip, thoughtful. “It was like your cursed energy was infecting that geezer. It was only a second, but I guess whenever you gave your command, I swear that it was like there were two of you. It was seriously trippy.”

“And then you gave yourself a brain bleed. Do you know how lucky you were that Shoko was on campus?” Suguru presses his palm against your forehead, and you look back up at him. The corners of his eyes are tight with worry. “Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” you purposely deflect. Does this power scare you? Yes. Would you use it again if it meant keeping the people you love safe in both body and mind? Another yes. “I’m just…worried about you both.”

“Squid, you can’t keep us here forever. I know you’re worried, but—” he fumbles. Briefly, his gaze darkens, but that emotion quickly passes. “We’re the strongest. We can take care of ourselves.”

“It’s not about whether you can do it or not,” you whisper. “It’s about rest. You almost died. You…you lost. And…that leaves wounds that Shoko can’t heal. Why can’t you have more time? Why does it have to be you?”

“The world has to keep spinning, Sketch.”

Yes, the world is cruel like that, isn’t it?

***

The start of middle school had felt like a month-long blowout in your household.

About two weeks in, while you were curled up under the blankets with a hot water bag pressed against your pelvis, grandparents that you rarely saw had come to visit from the village over. It’d felt like such an invasion of privacy when your both your mother and grandmother presented a bowl of red rice and congratulations on becoming a woman that you’d snapped. Why celebrate such a stupid thing? You’d ranted and raved. It’s what the body does. Why make a big deal? Do you do this with boys when they get their first erection? And all hell had broken loose.

Your father had outright smacked you in the mouth for speaking so crudely and disrespectfully to his mother. After an hour or so of being banished to your room, your frazzled mother and shrewd grandmother had come to interrogate you on how you knew about such a thing—the thing being erections. You’d told them because you saw nothing wrong with the truth. You hadn’t known it then, but Suguru had started puberty a few months before you. He’d told you about the exhausting and awkward conversation his father had been forced to give him.

By the end of the weekend, you’d been ready to choke your grandmother. The way she hovered over your mother, stirring up shit by whispering in your mother’s ear. The worst offense, in your opinion, had been how they turned Suguru away at the door every single day. You couldn’t sneak out because your grandmother slept in your room at night while days were spent going over what boiled down to glorified etiquette classes. Ladies don’t talk about crude things which included basic bodily functions, ladies don’t sleep with men unless they’re married, ladies are demure yet try to make friends with their peers, ladies this, ladies that, and on and on it went.

And you’d overheard conversations at school, knew that most of your classmates hated it as much as you did when their grandparents visited, so you’d hoped the hell would end when they were gone. It hadn’t. That Monday night, your mother had declared that there would no longer be any sleepovers, and you think that may have been the first ever time you screamed yourself hoarse.

You’ve always been too close to that boy! Your father had been the one to step in, absolutely laying into you. I tolerated it because you needed to have one friend, at least, so we could pretend our daughter is normal, but this is just becoming borderline inappropriate now! You’re lucky that I don’t ban you from seeing him, period! And think of him! Don’t you think that he’s sick of spending so much time with you? He’ll never have any other friends if he’s seen spending so much time with you! Let the boy be a boy, damn it!

That’s when the doubt started, you think.

This fear has always plagued you—the idea that you need Suguru more than he needs you.

Zen’in Toji changes that.

Sometimes, when you’re too stuck in your head, you worry that you’re still acting like a child, tugging at his sleeves, annoyingly demanding his attention. Now, it almost feels like the roles have reversed. Not that you’re annoyed. No, if he tried to hide himself away, you’re pretty sure that you’d be waiting outside his door like a lost puppy begging to come home.

Really, the only difference between now and those childhood days where you two were practically joined at the hip is that Satoru is included.

Now that Satoru and Suguru are on their own, you’ve been unofficially added to Nanami and Haibara’s team. What happened to headquarters wanting you to spy on Suguru, huh? This might be a punishment. You don’t mind it, obviously, because you like to be a good mentor, but it’s not just them that you’re helping. Helping is a loose term, though. You’re almost as busy as Suguru and Satoru are, running to pacify and record spirits for the seasoned sorcerers.  

A thing that you’ve started to learn is that sorcerers are…eccentric. More often than not, they don’t try to make small talk with you which you’re happy for, but it’s still exhausting to be around all these strangers. It seems like you’re always running on empty. It feels like your art is suffering, too, because you can’t find it in yourself to practice in your spare time. You feel as if you always have to be available.

Things might be easier if you had some time alone, but you never are anymore, even when you’re on campus. Would Satoru and Suguru respect your wishes if you asked? Yes. But you never do. You always feel too guilty to ask for such a thing when they’re working so hard all the time. Thankfully, Suguru is fine to sit in silence with you and Satoru can talk and talk without you ever saying a word back.

Things are changing between the three of you—even a person like you who always has things going over her head can see that.

You’re not quite sure when it started but there is always someone in your bed. None of you talk about it, though. If they hadn’t started leaving pieces of themselves behind in your room, you’d wonder if they even knew that the other is with you when they aren’t around. In your need to have things in the correct places, you’ve assigned them spots—Suguru’s cigarettes are tucked in the corner of your nightstand, Satoru’s stash of blueberry sodas is neatly stacked inside your minifridge, Suguru’s spicy ramen is in the cabinet closest to the door and Satoru’s melon bread are next to the ramen.

People talk about walking in the shadows of The Strongest, but…for you, it feels like their shadows are swallowing you whole.

Where do they end and where do you begin?

It’s getting weird inside your head. Not that it hasn’t always been. It’s just…you sometimes feel suffocated. On bad days, you wonder if you’ve started to create a mask for them—something you’ve never felt the need to do, especially with Suguru. And yet, in spite of it all, you’re terrified to push them away, and not because of what happened to them.

Bitterly, you think about that river in your village, and how if you were thrown in it with no way out but forward that you’d let yourself drown in that familiarity rather than face the unknown that awaits on the other side of the river.

You’d scolded Suguru for picking up smoking, but maybe he and Shoko are on to something with it.

The stars have aligned just right so that you, Satoru, and Suguru are all on campus at the exact same time. It’s a bitterly cold December morning and you’re gathered in the smoking area. Sitting next to Suguru on a bench, you eye the cigarette, tempted to try, but decide better of it. You’ll settle for the smoke that curls in the air and clings to his clothes. You tilt to the side, putting your head on his shoulder, and Suguru settles his cheek on the top of your head. Satoru, across from you and munching on pocky, has been watching you two with an eerie intensity.

“You two should come home to Kyoto with me.”

“Meeting the parents already?” The question was intoned by you and Suguru, at the exact same time. You lean away, glancing up at Suguru with the same surprise mirrored on his face, and then the two of you break out in a loud fit of laughter that’s becoming depressingly rare these days.

Satoru stands there, red-faced and fuming. “Sorry for wanting to spend my birthday weekend with you, you assholes!”

After collecting yourself and catching your breath, you ask, “Are we even allowed?”

“Doesn’t matter if you are or not,” he replies with a shrug of the shoulder. “I’m head of the clan, baby. I can do whatever I want, and no one can say a damn thing about it.”

From next to you, Suguru snorts. “Why don’t you just stay here since you obviously don’t want to go, Lord Gojo.”

“Future head of the clan,” Satoru reluctantly grumbles. “I could stay here,” he goes on to defensively. “I’m just being a nice person! The last time I saw my parents was last year when I moved on campus. I’m doing them a favor before I’m eighteen and never looking back.”

“Oh? Are you giving up your position when you graduate? Otherwise, you’ll probably be seeing them to do fancy, important clan stuff,” you tease.

“Screw both of you!” If life were an anime, there would be steam blowing out of his ears right now. “I was even going to let you guys go all out when we get fitted, but now I’m choosing for you, and I’ll put you in the ugliest colors!”

You cock your head to the side. “Fitted?”

“They want traditional clothes for the birthday celebration.”

“How traditional?”

“Ofurisode for you and montsuki for us,” he answers casually.

Oh, no. No, no, no. There have been only a few times where your parents rented a kimono for you, and you hated every single second of it. Granted, you were young, but you remember how much you hated it. “No.” You shake your head. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”

Satoru’s brows furrow. “Eh? Why?”

“What do you mean why? I can’t believe you’re okay with it! You don’t like clothes clinging to you, right?”

“Actually, it’s more like I hate when my clothes get wet. Besides, if something feels like it’s rubbing against me wrong, I can shift Infinity to sit between my skin and the fabric. Anyway, my montsuki are always silk, and I like how that feels.”

Your eye twitches. “Yeah, well, not everyone has Infinity. Do you even know how many pieces there are in an ofurisode? It’s so heavy and tight and—” you visibly shudder.

“Good point.” Satoru hums and taps his chin in thought. “Best I can do is a chu-furisode, though. I don’t doubt that they’d kick you out on your ass if you showed up in anything less formal or if we tried putting you in something for the married women.”

“You’re forgetting something,” you point out wryly. “I can just not go.”

“Sketch,” Satoru whines. “It’s my birthday.”

“We can celebrate here before or after you leave.”

“Also,” Suguru finally speaks up, “that’s too much money.”

“Oh, don’t worry, my little country bumpkins. It’s all on the Gojo dime and it won’t even be a drop in the bucket.”

Deadpan and once again at the same time, you and Suguru say, “Rich boy.”

Satoru claps his hands together in front of himself, ducking his head. “Please, please, please,” he loudly begs. “Don’t leave me on my own with my shitty clan! It’ll be like a sleepover! You guys did those when you were kids, right? My one wish is that I get a turn having a sleepover with Sketch and Suguru!”

We have sleepovers every time you’re on campus, you aggressively think. But, after a moment of reflection, you realize that, actually, not all three of you have slept in the same room. On the few times that they’ve been on campus at the same time, neither of them tries to sneak into your room at night or text you to ask. You think you know what they do, though. Just as they’ve started to leave pieces of themselves in your room, you see them in each other’s. And, sure, you could put that as them hanging out, but you’ll sometimes catch whiffs of cigarette smoke on Satoru’s sheets and pillows.

You still want to tell him no. It’s a daunting thought, being in an uncomfortable kimono, surrounded by people that don’t even respect their own future clan head let alone people like you and Suguru who have no sorcery in your bloodlines. But what else is there to get the boy who has everything? And…it’s a rare chance to have them to yourself because the higher-ups are giving him leave and, if Satoru insists, his family will request the same for you and Suguru.

“Fine,” you agree with a frustrated sigh.

Suguru also gives a sigh of his own. “I’m smoking, whether I’m allowed to or not.”

“Best birthday ever!” Satoru cheers.

***

For obvious reasons, Satoru puts off going on his clan’s estate as long as possible. There are people at the estate that could measure you and Suguru, but Satoru pulls you both into a shop that’s probably so expensive that it costs to breathe. You’re glad the prices aren’t displayed. Thankfully, you don’t really have to put up with strange hands all over you yet. They simply take a tape measurer to you and then let you pick out the fabric. Like Satoru, you decide on a beautiful silk that starts out forest green before fading to a navy blue near the bottom.

Kyoto is mostly religious sits—temples, castles, shrines, and the like. It’s very beautiful. Satoru takes you both to the Fushimi Inari-taisha, a long path that’s nothing but bright red torii gates. Satoru is surprisingly quiet, so it’s a peaceful moment. After the shrine, you wonder if it was just a way to calm you down before you’re forced to face the crowds to find food. It’s…honestly not as bad as you expected because with Satoru and Suguru’s huge bodies in front of and behind you, people can’t bump into you that much.

Late in the afternoon, as the sun is setting, the three of you are in a random park. Satoru is dozing off, head in Suguru’s lap, and Suguru is reading a book. It’s good inspiration, so you draw them. Not like that’s anything unusual. You do feel a little sad, a little nostalgic when you flip through your personal sketchbook and see the gradual loss of…youth, you guess. Even Shoko isn’t unaffected. You wonder how you look to everyone else.

At twilight, Satoru decides he can’t stall anymore, and he finally picks up the phone that he’s been ignoring all day.

jjk

“Your parents aren’t what I expected,” Suguru comments when the three of you shuffle into his obscenely large bedroom.

Meanwhile, your question is, “Is this not your room?” Sure, Satoru brought a lot of stuff when he moved on campus, but this room is…weirdly empty. Not a hint of his love for Digimon, no posters, and the bedsheets look like they belong to an older person rather than a teenager.

“Right? My parents are super weak. They were low on the Gojo ladder, but then they had yours truly, and they’re practically worshipped now. I’ve never lived with them much, though. They handed me over to tutors and people who could teach me about sorcery,” Satoru explains. “I was in another section of the compound, but when I come to Kyoto, I’m a good son and stay with my parents.”

Suguru voices what you’re both thinking. “Satoru, that’s…really sad. You know that, right?”

“Eh.” Satoru shrugs off the concern. “It’s probably how every other rich kid is treated. Non-sorcerers get boarding schools, and I got training and missions.”

“Missions?”

“Yeah?” Satoru cocks his head to the side, genuinely confused by your disbelief. “What? I’m Gojo Satoru, wielder of the Six Eyes. You think I was sitting around on my ass until high school?”

Suguru is pressing a thumb against the center of his forehead. “I’m too tired to tell you how fucked up that is, Satoru. We’ll save it for another day.”

“Agreed,” you say with a nod. “And don’t expect me to be polite to any of your family.”

“I don’t get you guys, but okay. Let’s go to bed.”

It takes a bit of maneuvering. There’s some giggling when, as you three try to get settled in Satoru’s massive bed, you all bump into some ticklish spots. You argue even more about the positioning. Finally, you decide that the birthday boy is stuck in the middle. Besides, he’s always ice cold, so he won’t get too hot, anyway.

Satoru has an arm thrown around your shoulders and Suguru’s. Suguru’s cheek is up in the crook of Satoru’s neck while yours is above his heart. It’s a nice sensation, listening to the frantic beat of Satoru’s heart slow as the minutes pass by. Suguru is half-asleep when he reaches out to lace his fingers through yours, placing them on Satoru’s stomach. They’re both asleep before you, which isn’t a surprise. They must be exhausted, constantly coming and going on missions.

I wish I was stronger.

Strong enough to shoulder these burdens with them, strong enough to face down the old men that treat Satoru and Suguru like weapons to be used and feared, strong enough to stop childishly clinging to everyone else, strong enough to protect these so very precious moments, strong enough…

I’m weak.

And that’s a bitter truth but a still a truth regardless.

[imraespace]

STREAMERS! ★ ˎˊ˗

..CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3! || CHAPTER 4..

You stared at your phone screen, then back up at your chat sending a bunch or confused comments.

I mean.. who wouldn't be confused if you join a stream to find a bunch of your teachers in it.

"Uhh let me explain-"

You didn't really think that students from the school actually watch your streams, now you do. Suddenly you realize how weird it looks to stream with a bunch or old (not really), probably hated adults in the school.

@iloveuh_: ew the maths teacher is there.

That comment made you giggle a bit.

"Yeah sadly.. he's here as well." You replied.

Today's stream contains of Tengen, Kyojuro, Sanemi and Gyomei.

"Sadly who's here?" Sanemi asked.

"Nothing.." You mumbled.

"Anyways! Guess what happened yesterday?" You started.

"What?" Sanemi replied.

"Mitsuri said that she got an extra two customers yesterday!"

You're happy that Muichiro's (stupid) idea is actually working!

"That's good, should be thanking us to be honest." Tengen brought up.

"Why?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because without us, they wouldn't gotten any." He stated.

As much as you would normally lash out to him, sadly you have students watching..

So you just gave him a smile and thumbs up! Obviously you caught him off guard as confusion covered his face but it soon disappeared.

"What are we supposed to do here anyways?" Sanemi asked, resting his head on his palm.

Your eyes decided to scan your chat and glad you did, a comment caught your attention!

"Sanemi! Look at this comment." You said. showing your phone at the camera, doing that he got the memo to check his phone.

@kh.fan01: are you dating my bio teacher..

His face twisted from annoyed to even more annoyed.

"What possessed you to ask your teacher that question.." He grumbled.

"Well.. Not gonna lie but we too want to know as well." Kyojuro said, entering the conversation.

"Who's we? I have other things to worry about." Tengen said, rocking a stupid smile on his face .

"Yeah Sanemi.. are you?" You joined in, with a big grin on your face.

"What I think is that you all should mind your own business." He simply stated.

"But you infact told me that you indeed have feelings for Kanae." Gyomei said for the first time today.

"I forgot you're here, hello!" You said, waving at him.

He returned it.

@gamergirl123: isn't he blind..?

"He has his ways."

"Gyomei, sometimes you're not supposed to speak." Sanemi told the man.

"Don't talk to Mr. Himejima like that." You replied, defending him.

"Or what?"

"..."

You wondered n pondered, deciding on if you should put him in his place or act like the bigger person on live. Such hard decisions.

Yet you only sighed but looked down at your phone when you noticed that you got a notification from a new chat.

"Guys entertain them I have something to do."

"What-" Sanemi was then cut off by your removing your headphones.

You sighed and turned off your phone.

Your eyes made its way towards your chat and realized that your the talk of the moment.

"Why am I the talk of the moment?" You spoke up, startling the others.

"Oh your back. You looked like you sniffed shit." Sanemi told you.

"WHAT?" But then it hit you.

Oh right facial expressions!

"Nothing is wrong." You told them.

"Yeah right.. Ok." Sanemi said.

It was now silent until Gyomei spoke up.

"How about we end today's stream?" And to that, you all agreed.

STREAMERS!

EXTRA!:

TAGLIST: @deezy12299 @s0uldarling @cherryblossomly (OPEN)

[blush-bblushing]

Uhh first time writing for tumblr in awhile

Blush blush guys headcanons! (Pt1)

Cw: none. All fluff!

Characters: nimh, volks, kelby, eli

Hc's under the cut

Nimh

Due to his heart condition I think he grew up afraid to do anything fun. By that I mean he avoided scary movies, rollerblading, most theme park rides, etc. He still had fun in his own way. But as an adult, he tries to test what he can/cannot do. For example: going rollerblading with marshmallow/mc. Sure, he may need to rest every 5 or so minutes. And that's ok. He still gets to experience something new. All while doing it with someone he trusts.

He has a habit of holding his hands when nervous. Like when he's feeling anxious, he'll rub his thumb on his palm. It became a habit because his family did that for him as a kid. Sometimes he'll do it to marshmallow to when they hold hands. Regardless of if they're nervous or not.

When shopping for clothes, blankets, or anything with fabric, he has to check the fabrics texture. Nimh can be jumpy at times. And sometimes certain fabrics feel like a spider touching him if he forgets the texture. So to avoid that scare, he'll lean towards softer fabrics. Obviously, not everything he has is soft. It's just the majority for his sake

This is a lot more simple- I firmly believe he watched shows like strawberry shortcake, Teddy ruxpin, bear in the big blue house, etc. All of these shows are still a comfort to this day. If he feels particularly anxious he'll watch an episode or two to calm down.

Volks

Volks is pretty good at braiding hair. During childhood, he would play with his mom's hair. Mainly stemming from boredom. This eventually led to his mother showing him how to braid. To this day, he can do multiple braid styles. His personal favorite is a fish tail braid.

Obviously he isn't a touchy person. However, if the stars align, he'll rest his head on marshmallows' shoulder. Or even rarer: he'll hug marshmallow from behind. Just don't bring attention to it. Or else he'll quickly jump up and stop. It's not an issue he has with his partner. Simply Volks trying to be more affectionate.

When he first became a wolf, Volks accepted his fate. He didn't ignore the existential horror of the situation. He just didn't care too much about it. It gave him the freedom to act in ways he couldn't before. To elaborate on this: he has a lot of self enforced "rules" for himself. Like societal expectations but with stuff he made up. After the whole wolf & marshmallow thing, he has far less of these. (Men will literally become an animal instead of going to therapy/j)

With it being revealed in his coffee date that he sometimes sings: he likes laufey. Her music makes him feel comfortable with the idea of being soft. If one were to catch him washing the dishes alone (and with his phone on), he'll be singing "from the start". He knows most of her songs by heart.

Kelby

Ugh. He's underrated. So these are to give his fans some food.

As a result of his active lifestyle, Kelby doesn't play videogames. He's tried them a few times. He sadly doesn't see the appeal.... except for one. Marshmallow showed him animal crossing. And if you've played it, you'd know there's a whole subset of characters who work out. Since he first played it, he'll occasionally ask Marshmallow to check on them. He wants to encourage his digital workout buddies :]

He doesn't have nuch of a wardrobe. It's mainly sport uniforms and hoodies. As a joke I like to think that any exceptions to this wardrobe were either 1) "forced" (asked him to try the clothes on) upon by marshmallow or 2) he realized that the event he's going to wouldn't appreciate him wearing a basketball uniform.

Kelby didn't always work out. In early childhood he did typical kid stuff. Eat a bunch of candy, watch TV, etc. Until he got around 8 years old. When he thought it'd be fun to try out his dads workout equipment. After a few days, he was caught lifting his dad's 5lbs weights. Since then his parents encouraged his efforts. And he's been athletic ever since! He still appreciates dessert or binge watching a TV show about once or twice a week. To treat himself after some hard work.

There's memes about guys using 10 in one shower products. One would think Kelby is the same. Surprisingly enough, he isn't. He takes special care of his hygiene. Hair thickening shampoo & conditioner and fancy shower gels are only a couple of examples. He doesn't like the assumption that he only cares about working out. Self care involves everything about the body. Not only the aesthetics of it.

Eli

Had a massive vocaloid phase. (They call it a phase but he literally has a couple miku figures in his room. They bought the newest figure only a year before marshmallow came) he and Marshmallow have already planned on visiting miku Expo. So long as they bring back the holograms.

Because of how varied Eli's fashion sense is, he will occasionally chose to wear something nobody expects. One day, they wore an outfit similar to poe's. Most of the other guys' reactions consisted of "who are you and what have you done with Eli?!" (Poor guy only wanted to dress up :[ ) luckily, since then, the others have gotten used to it. Some of them even encourage it if it helps them express themselves better.

As most know, he doesn't I love you much. That doesn't mean he can't show genuine affection. Say hypothetically marshmallow were to have a bad day. They'd come home to not only some new clothes in their room, but also their favorite food and a comfort movie/show/videogame on the TV. From experience, Eli finds gestures like this to be more meaningful. Proof that someone does genuinely care. And that all their words aren't superficial.

And for the final headcanon of this post: Eli always has some sort of makeup product or accessory to share. You never know when a style emergency may happen! Someone who cares for their looks (like he does) is bound to worry about others. You need a hairtie? Gotchu. Never wore makeup before but wanna try? Already have the bag out. A seam tripped in your favorite shirt? Somehow a sewing kit is ready??? They have your back in nearly anything your style may struggle with

That's all for now. If I remember to do so later, I'll share the ones I have for the other guys. Hope this was at least entertaining to read

[fuk1ngb1tch]

I made a bunch of aliens :3

I actually made them like a month or two ago but only now have I drawn then digitally

Anyway, they're called Rakra. Not after anything, I kinda just put sounds together and I liked it :)

They're very tall- the shortest adult one in this drawing being 9 feet tall, but there is the drawing of the baby, but it's only his head. Will likely do a drawing with him later or smth. He is very tiny.

Anyway some notes about their appearance and general biology! Also other things about them too probably :3

(warning, it's kind of a lot it's alot but yk, I like writing about them so under the cut it'll be, and I'll reblog this with even more info haha-)

Biology and Appearance

They are not very advanced to how we'd see them. They have "simple" villages and tribes, use herbs and stuff, but are very in tune with their planet! They know every in and out, and while if I knew everything about their environment I would talk about it, but I currently haven't developed that too much just yet. Maybe more species that they hunt, and fauna?

Four arms! And each hand has 2 thumbs and three normal fingers. Why do I torture myself like this? Who knows. Their lower set of arms are smaller, even if it doesnt always look it 🥲

Legs! They have more animal legs, and this is because they're semi-bipedal! Idk if that's correct but it is for me 😎

Their feet :3 not really seen, other than in a small drawing on the top left with the shape of their legs, they've got a toe at the back, three at the front, then also have one of the side that works like another thumb! This is because they climb trees alot :3

Tails!!! They have very long tails, used as a way to keep balance because of how fuckin' talk they are. They're very long (not pictured very well), and prehensile(Can grip stuff with it)!

Eyes! They do have eyes, they're just completely black- this has led to more sensitive eyes, so they do kind of look like they're constantly squinting so, hehe

Head side spikes :D you see the spikes on the side of their heads? They use that to present their form of gender identity! Of course it can vary, but to note- Muru (the baby) and Tritu(the shortest and blue one) are male, while the other, minus the golden one, are female. The golden one is a form of gender neutral, removing their spikes to not look like either sex, as the length (and direction somewhat, but not as notable when adult) are indicative of viewed "gender"

Hearing. Nothing noteworthy tbh. Gotta be average somewhere

Mouths! They have very sharp teeth, and their tongues are very acidic! (And long. The drawing with the forked tongue is not accurate and was just a test) The acidic-ness is because of a specific food source- as seen in the top right corner is a fruit called Rak Rak/Ruk Ruk (name is a heavy debate among Rakra), of which are VERY acidic, but otherwise, tasty and high in nutrients. If a human ate it, you'd like probably lose your ability to eat likely, or atleast lick things. But Rakra have evolved to be able to eat and (and possibly some other animals too?).

This specific tribe is called Trkik! Unfortunately, I have not made any others, but I hopefully will in the future!

Their colours! They mostly come in darker and cooler colours, blues, purples, greens, but it isn't too uncommon to be reds, yellows or oranges. It is very rare for one to be a very light shade though!

Their clothing- haven't fully decided on the patterns, but are made for more of a temperate environment, like a rainforest.

Gonna reblog with other stuff

[void-imp-archived]

Here's my Jeremy ramble, buckle up it's gonna be a long one

I was thinking about jeremy and how I feel like I haven't given him enough flaws, and I think I've figured out what to do. In the traditional, academical sense, Jeremy is not "smart". He's not dumb, far from it, but he was never the stereotypical booksmart kid who excelled in school. Math and physics are his biggest struggles, to the point he'd skip class as a teen. It was something so unlike him, someone who had been praised for being a good, dutiful kid who always did he right thing his whole life, but the fear of feeling stupid was greater than the fear of dissapointing his mom. Both, however, were ever-present. Languages were less of a hurdle, and those subjects that allowed or encouraged conversation, like social studies. Apart from having to memorize a bunch of dates, he enjoyed history too. Where he excels is when he gets to work with his hands. He's a great cook, an incredible artist, athletic, has a green thumb. These are his strengths but he's always felt like it pales in comparison to his mother's achievements. His mother, who came to the states and fought to make a life for herself here, who's incredibly clever, who went to college and became a doctor. Who raised him on her own while being a med student. He wants to live up to the expectations she has for him, to make her proud, and continously finds himself falling short. Some of this is partially resolved before Jeremy as we know him shows up in the story. On his last year of High School, he and his mother got in a fight. He'd finally gathered the courage to tell her his dreams of becoming a tattoo artist and she did not like the idea. Wanted him to go to college. Jeremy loves his mom more than anything, and defying her expectations was the scariest thing he's ever had to do. And in the same way, Alma loves her son most of everything in this world, and wanted what she thought was best for him but also wanted him to be happy. In Alma's mind Jeremy was still her baby, and the realization that he was almost fully grown up was like having a bucket of cold water emptied over her head. The little kid proudly showing off how he learned to tie his shoes was almost an adult, and was already becoming his own person. So she brokered a deal: if he tended to his studies, passed his finals and got an A in math, she would fully support him in becoming a tattoo artist. He studied hard, got help from his friends, and felt confident. When the day came, the culmination of all his hard work, the moment his hopes for the future rested on… he got a B. To say he was dissapointed would be an understatement. He was crushed. The feeling of being an utter failure was greater now than at any other point in his life. Pure dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of having to tell his mom, having to see the disappointment in her eyes. When he came home, his mom wasn't disappointed at all. She wrapped him in a hug and told him how proud she was of him, and he cried for what felt like hours. She made them a cup of tea, put on a movie, and they had a talk. She had seen his hard work and was still willing to support him, even if she would rather see him continue his education. He admitted he didn't feel fully ready, that he kinda wanted to go to community college first, and that's what he ended up doing. Now that he lives on the other side of the country, working as an apprentice at a tattoo studio, he's happy that he decided to wait those two years. He still sucks at math but he's more mature now, more grounded, and feel better suited to take on the challenges that await him now he's on his own.

[jellybeanium124]

Here is a story about Canada and myself. I have never been to Canada.

However, when doing geological research, we realized a bunch of my relatives were Canadian for years on end and the next thing you know they're in the New York census and they own homes in New York and we can't find any proof that they legally immigrated to the United States.

That being said, the border was a lot looser then. Like that was pretty common people just moving from Southern Canada to places in the northern United States and not bothering with any paperwork.

OK SO I actually have a super fun sorta similar story.

thanksgiving 2022.

the one time of year my grandpa (dad's dad) and nana (mom's mom) get together. nana is solidly on the left, normal ass left-leaning liberal opinions. hates trump. likes queer people and abortion, you know, like, a normal left-leaning american and all that jazz. my grandpa is a self-described libertarian. he's fiercely pro-union, once said that women entering the work force ruined the economy (my bubbie, his wife, now deceased, worked her whole adult life until retirement lol, and this was also said in front of my mother, who works, and me, who was still in high school, but we all knew I would eventually be in the work force), and his favorite political joke is "the only good politician is a dead one." he voted for trump in 2016, not sure about 2020. he doesn't like trump (he hates all politicians), he's just a single issue voter on the Topic, but that's not what this story is about.

my nana keeps much stricter passover rules than me and my parents, so while my grandpa comes for the big family meal twice a year, she's only there on thanksgiving. me, my parents, and my brother all have to be on Political Talk Control because the two of them can't help themselves.

after dinner on thanksgiving 2022, my grandpa starts going off about illegal immigrants, and my nana, who cultivates a sort of bumbling nice old lady personality (despite actually being fiercely intelligent), pipes up about a story about our ancestors.

around the turn of the century, some of my ancestors immigrate to america, and my great great great whatever idk how many greats grandfather is a criminal, and it says so on his passport. I forget exactly what he did, I don't think he killed anyone, but it was obviously enough to be denied entry to the US. so when they arrive in america and are going thru customs, he has his niece, 18 and very pretty at the time, hold his passport out for him, with her thumb over the mark showing that he's a criminal. she bats her eyes and smiles at the american customs official, and bada bing bada boom they're let through into the country, without the official taking a closer look :)

that shut my grandpa up right quick.

[mhaynoot]

[ joongdok - canon compliant - pure fluff ]

post epilogue, established couple joongdok having a vacation all to themselves for a week or two because they're the only two jobless adults who can get two weeks off in the middle of the year and the rest of the kim dokja's company nebulae can take a hint.

the hint is that they're hopeless and completely garbage at planing vacations. the two idiots are still "hmm"-ing and "mmm"-ing a week after yoo sangah had eagerly suggested they take a trip to relax.

"has either of them ever even had a vacation?" someone finally asks.

someone else asks, "do they, like, even know the concept of relaxing?"

not looking away from her console and executing a perfect combo, yoo mia says, "oppa never took a vacation, not even once."

"what about kim dokja?"

then they remember kim dokja and kim dokja's past and they sigh.

after arguing about romantic cliches and plans for a whole night before finally reaching a tentative accord, han sooyoung and yoo sangah intervene and slap down two tickets on the dining room table.

"you are going to jeju island," han sooyoung says.

"hmm, are we?" kim dokja says even as yoo joonghyuk swipes the tickets to examine the dates.

"yes," everyone replies and he only laughs.

lee hunsung becomes in charge of activities and he rounds all the kids to band up together into a brain storming session that rattles the roof with how loud and excited they become. they come up with a bunch of whacky romantic/fun/cool/badass ideas and activities to do. having come back from her recent trip and feeling extremely gleeful at having thats right up her expertise, jang hayoung compiles all their suggestions into a neat activity book and then makes the mistake of actually researching. hours and hours later, she's still trying to find all the best places and fun spots. she's interviewed four people already and they all give insane responses.

for example, jung heewon lists out all cool bars she went to during her college years but then strokes her chin and says, "they're probably all destroyed or gone now though. ah, just add it all anyways, im sure they'll find at least one of them or it'll give them a good goose chase."

by the end of it and the entire living room turned into a jeju guide collection dump. even han sooyoung reaches out to help format all the information into a giant printed travel guide. by the time its printed and bound, it's thick enough to break bone.

"would we even be able to do all of this?" kim dokja asks, tracing the list of activities and sights and vacation things to do. its a very long list.

"we can always go again," yoo joonghyuk points out.

kim dokja's eyes crinkles. they share a look over the word 'again'.

"oi," han sooyoung cuts in. "we're all going next time, you bastards. there's no way i would have helped make this stupid travel guide just for you two."

yoo joonghyuk and him share another look but he smiles when says, "if you say so, han sooyoung."

bumbling in with all the grace of a particularly snappy grand turtle, gong pildu huffs and finds them a lodge in the middle of nowhere so they don't destroy perfectly good land. even han myungoh comes by with his daughter to talk excitedly about all the places he'd visited and how they could totally hook them up with perfect deals. kim dokja's mothers come by as well, getting him travel bags and fancy dinner clothes.

uriel wails that she cant watch them on their honeymoon over video call. there's about a billion stage crew bustling and frantically speed walking around and behind her and kim dokja remembers she's on a world tour and probably about to head up on stage considering her pretty outfit. glancing over her shoulder on the screen, kim dokja can almost spy out abyssal black flame dragon and sun wukong fighting in the background using a thumb machine.

"how about you send me your schedule and we can go watch your next concert after my vacation," he says and she immediately lights up.

and, because he's pressed against his chest and tucked under his chin, kim dokja can feel it as yoo joonghyuk shakes his head. but he still writes it down in the little black journal he keeps on hand.

in the end, the only two who dont actually contribue to the vacation is kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk themselves who spend most of the week arguing over luggage and bickering over if bringing an entire spice rack is over kill (kdj: yes, yjh vehemently: i can bring the knives too, kim dokja give me the spices).

on the day of departure, they wake up predawn to the whole house bustling and three people already yelling, and loading up way more luggage than kim dokja remembers packing. making sure to fill up yoo mia's plate first, yoo joonghyuk eventually reveals a giant breakfast spread for the rest to eat and they all gobble up ten differently cooked eggs, kimchi yoo joonghyuk had been expertly fermenting like an elderly ahjumma, fluffy fried rice, kimchi, four pots of soup, perfectly cooked fish, more kimchi, and a whole table filled with a hundred different banchan.

as he closes his eyes around the heavenly flavour of yoo joonghyuk's hobakjuk, he quietly conceeds that bringing the spice rack wouldn't be too bad even if it ruined the authenticity of trying touristy food trap.

after inhaling the food and the grand procession of getting everyone into one vehicle, jung hewoon drives them to the airport in the gigantic wagon car they all loving call the company car. in kim dokja's opinion, its more bus than car.

the kids all cry as he rubs their head and kisses their forehead goodbye even though theyre all too old for that anymore but he does it anyway when they crowd around him like puppies about to be dropped off at puppycare. he can't begrudge them when even the adults are huddling around him too, holding onto him like he'd disappear. inside, he knows they're all acting like this why but only a soft tug pulls his heart into a gentle dance of indulgence.

kim dokja waves goodbye from the terminal, smiling widely. yoo joonghyuk gives a nod to the group, flipping through the Kim Dokja Company Approved Travel Guide for the sixth time since they got it. but even he smiles in the end when they all call out their last goodbye and rush into a giant hug.

"you better come back in one piece. yoo joonghyuk, look after him or else. you too kim dokja, you better not let this guy do anything stupid."

"dokja-ssi make sure not to get lost."

"ahjussi, have fun and remember us!"

"hyung! don't forget us! ugh, you sooty bastard, you better look after hyung."

"look after master, ahjussi, and get us souvenirs!"

holding onto his hand, yoo sangah says "make sure to have fun."

jung heewon pulls him close and says into his shoulder, "come home soon."

kim dokja clings onto them for a moment longer. just a little longer. indulges in each second that ticks by. but the announcer says its time to depart and, as he pulls back, he watches as they gather around him, like planetary orbits, never leaving his solar system. refusing to leave his previously lonely starry world. after all, they were forever intertwinned in the gravity of each other. forever, they'll be here for him, to pull him back, and he'll be there too, reaching back to meet their open arms. even if they separated just for a little bit. they'll rotate back together. always.

"i promise, I'll be back," he says, a little watery, and swings an arm around yoo joonghyuk. he holds him steadily.

kim dokja thinks for a long moment. "you know, i dont think ive ever been in a plane."

silently, yoo joonghyuk holds out his hand. after all that he has gone through, after using wings to fly, a carriage through space, a car that rides on cosmic roads and after having thrown himself through the cosmos, kim dokja thinks wearily that something as mundane as a plane ride should definitely not even stir up even a sliver of fear but he grips onto yoo joonghyuk's large, warm hand as tight as possible as the plane shakes and rattles and the white tube bleeds around the edges of his eyes.

then they get the kdrama special montage of jeju island.

there had been plenty of bizarre, otherworldly and breathtaking sights of skies and cosmos, of death and destruction, of the haunting beauty in yoo joonghyuk's features during the scenarios. devastating but beautiful. something as mundane as jeju island and the wind in yoo joonghyuk's hair and a casual black turtleneck shouldn't take his breath away but it does.

the first day, they had decided not to do much. first, check into their lodge. a tiny cabin that looks about ready to collapse in the middle of nowhere. but its surprisingly cosy and cleaned up on the inside when they step in. yoo joonghyuk sets up his spice rack and the whole kitchen to his liking and kim dokja lounges around with a book. after putting things away and the sun still high in the afternoon, they go sightseeing.

kim dokja oohs and ahhs and takes thousands of dumb photos to send to the kkt. most of it is landscapes, and bad selfies, and a picture perfect yoo joonghyuk looking handsomely over the distance.

"so unfair," he says and then makes the photo his lockscreen.

they go to a cute cafe jang hayoung had circled several times for the pretty floral aesthetic and view overlooking the ocean. kim dokja admits it does look pretty nice and sends photos of it to jang hayoung with a thumbs up.

"hi, what would you like to order? by the way, our chef's special today is fish and chips!"

initially, he had been only about to order an ice americano (decaf because he was old) but kim dokja can't ever resist and orders lunch there too. loves watching as yoo joonghyuk makes a grouchy face at all the 'low quality' food he tries. it is pretty tasteless but kim dokja savours each bite.

the sun lazily winds through the sky, not a cloud in sight and its too perfect beach weather to pass up. using the extremely detailed map in the travel guide, they find the beach although kim dokja was pretty sure they would have found it easily even without it. just follow the sea salt.

at the edge before the sand, yoo joonghyuk quickly crouches down to take off his shoes and, before kim dokja could follow suit, he reaches out and takes hold of kim dokja's foot. his fingers quickly unlaces the sneaker and then he slips the shoe and sock off. his hands now cradling the bare sole into a gentle squeeze and half massage.

kim dokja laughs and reaches out to card a hand through the thick hair. the silver strands are shining in the golden jeju sunlight. they flutter in the sea wind they can feel from here. something in his stomach was fluttering too.

look at them, 30-something and over hundreds and thousands of years old. a bunch of old men they are to still get butterflies.

"you're so cute today, joonhyuk-ah."

"shut up and give me your other foot."

kim dokja does and yoo joonghyuk sets their shoes to the side. he also rolls up their pants and then gets up with a smooth rise.

they walk along the beach, hand in hand. kim dokja playfully kicks wet sand into yoo joonghyuk's legs and, without hesitation, yoo joonghyuk throws him into the ocean. or, at least tries to. immediately, having had the foresight, kim dokja latches onto him tightly, he twists, and they both tumble down into the sand.

kim dokja laughs, a little breathless from the fall but mostly because of the sight of yoo joonghyuk hovering over him and the ocean breeze stuck up his throat. he had even slipped a hand beneath kim dokja's head before it hit the sand. a small fall like that wouldn't have even hurt at all.

"so unfair," he says again, reaching up to trace the ocean drop kissing down yoo joonghyuk's devastating cheeks.

they're still mostly on the sandy area so the warm water only reaches about a finger width high. it pulls back kim dokja's hair just the slightest bit and the sand is already getting everywhere on him. the sunlight plays along the water's glittering surface.

kim dokja smiles and yoo joonghyuk watches as his eyes curl up into little crescents. as the world sparkles around him.

'unfair you say,' yoo joonghyuk thinks and leans down to kiss him.

they're both smiling too much. the gentle waves washes them close, again and again. it's salty.

[bigweldindustries]

1, 12, 28!

AAAA thank you!!! B)

questions I think would be fun to be asked

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

pokemon has by far been the biggest driving force in who i am socially - every irl friend i've ever had was either made through pokemon, or friends i met through those friends. i played both the tcg and vgc competitively between 11 and 16, and was so deeply woven into that that when i started playing pokemon go with the local pokemon go community in 2018 people a lot of people recognised me from back then. the interest changed me for the worst - it was how i met and got close to one of my abusers - but even so, when my friends all left the city, i still decided to get back into tcg to stop being so lonely. it's cringe being this into a nintendo property but it's just someth i do at this point lol

aside from that uhhhh my impulsiveness kinda fucks i throw myself into things without a second thought. literally how i found a career that doesn't make me wanna Die and also how i found i fuckin love praying mantises. hell impulsiveness is how i started playing competitive pokemon. if my impulses were different i would be entirely different and that kinda throws me lmfao

third uhhhhh my grandma getting me an mp3 player for christmas when i was 6. was a factor in my autism being spotted and diagnosed. also made me a lil music freak. thanks grandma

12. what’s some good advice you want to share?

buy and keep two sets of crayons; skin toned crayons and monochrome crayons. you want as many different colours in both as possible. they don't have to be expensive crayons, offbrand cheapo ones will do.

between these you will be able to buff out pretty much any mark ever made in anything plastic or wood you own in a couple of minutes. the wax is thick enough to fill in the deep gap and by going lightly back and forth between 2-3 shades it is really fucking easy to colourmatch. smooth it over with a thumb and its unnoticeable. this is my favourite bit of adult knowledge i have bc i love doing it lol

28. do you collect anything?

oh god not more pokemon but pokemon plushes (this isnt even all of them ive got a bunch since i took this photo lmfao) is one!

also a really random figure collection:

finally ive got my big ol pin collection which i dont have a photo of because i need to sort it now ive got it out of storage (either way i have enough that i had to get a second big ass pinboard LMAO help)

[adultswim2021]

Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job #36: “Road Trip” | March 2, 2009 - 12:30AM | S04E04

Tim and Eric very clearly got less and less interested in appearing on camera as this show went on, many episodes from this era only feature them in wraparound segments. Episodes where they actually participate in a non-wraparound sketch become the exception. The show doesn’t suffer for it, really, but the wraparounds definitely feel like they accomplished everything in one take and moved on.

The wrap for this episode is maybe the weakest thing in the episode, but it’s fine! I like it, even! In it, Tim takes Eric on a road trip to Fort Lauderdale where his parents are fishing. The plan is to have a womanless party in Eric’s parents hotel room while they’re away deep-sea fishing. They come back early and start boning while everyone hides in the closet. Inexplicably, they start moaning Eric’s name, which is simply beyond gross. What a gross show!

The first true sketch is Back to Squall, a really good parody of 80s comedies starring James Quall and insufferable retard Jonah Hill. Not only does it do a very good job of resembling an actual 80s movie (on an Adult Swim budget, no less), but it also does a good job at mimicking an 1980s television promo for said movie. For all it's impressive verisimilitude I do have one quibble: briefly being able to see Jonah Hill’s lame-ass tats on his arm. I remember being straight-up outraged in 2009 when I first saw it. I’ve calmed down since then. But I still don’t like looking at it. 

DLH’s hilarious line about dating Barbara Streisand is in the running for one of the most quoted lines in my circle of friends. Also, there are two truly sublime moments that involve James Quall just giving up on life that they intentionally left in the episode. The faux-saccharine line “Of course I hope I never get to graduate so we can always live together” seems to be delivered while James is in the middle of powering down. This is one of my favorite jokes in all of Tim and Eric. Also the callback scene featuring an outtake of James just kinda muttering to himself in response to some off-camera stage directions (I assume) is really wonderful. There is more footage in the Extended Scenes portion of the DVD, featuring more riffing from Jonah Hill and a little more of DLH. In this version, Barbara Streisand is swapped for Geena Davis. 

During on Drawing features a dude who teaches you to “draw” but all he does is apply artistic filters to photos. All the photos are of corpses laying in caskets. Very scary stuff. There’s also a Brule's Rules about using a twig instead of a toothbrush that I mention here only because I don’t want there to be two extremely short paragraphs in a row. 

Cinco Boy is a very memorable sketch, featuring spokesperson Peter Stormare. The Cinco Boy is a synthetic boy that grieving mothers can purchase to replace their dead son. It is constantly replaced with older boys for as long as the mother lives. It’s a very creepy sketch, and has a great reprise where Stormare comes to her window and methodically gives her a thumbs up while she shakes her head in disgust. It’s punctuated by a great synthy musical sting. This moment hasn’t left my head since I first saw it on TV.

This sketch’s initial child funeral scene is also really funny; it features a callback to the drawing guy, seen taking paparazzi photos of the proceedings. Also a commemorative wreath with the bannered phrase “in lovin’ memory” is so fucking funny. Like, literally, just changing “loving” to “lovin’” somehow constitutes one of the funniest jokes ever told.

Also, a piece of pure video art: Mini Van Highway simply features a bunch of older men on old computers singing a electronica song about their minivan. Out of context, this one could theoretically be mistaken for a sincere music video, which is what makes it great. 

The other notable extra associated with this episode is for the opening Road Trip segment: turns out to accomplish the stunt of Eric being hit with a van they actually went through the trouble of casting a plaster cast of Eric’s face and arms because they were dissatisfied with over-the-counter dummies. I accuse Tim & Eric of dashing things off lazily, but I gotta give them credit for this. For some reason

NOTE: THANK YOU TO ANOTHER MAN FOR LETTING ME STEAL A JOKE FOR THIS POST. SOME SAY STOP THE STEAL, BUT I HAVE TO DISGAGREE

[marklilies]

% under the mistletoe

pairings: mark x gn!reader || wc: 1.3k || warnings: mentions of food || inspiration: mistletoe by justin bieber || a/n: this was written for @ficscafe’s holiday event, peppermint latte! happy holidays, everybody!

the gentle hooting of an owl rouses you from your sleep. your mind is awake, but you keep your eyes closed, and everything is perfectly still around you. it’s so quiet, except for the breathing of the boys in the room.

somebody shifts on your right, and you open your eyes to check who it is. you smile when you see chenle next to you, his hair messy and his body squished up between you and the wall.

you look around the room. the others are all still asleep, in various positions. mark and jisung are curled up against each other on the mattress on the floor, having lost last night’s game of rock, paper and scissors. jaemin and donghyuck are crammed into a single bed, donghyuck’s arm extended across jaemin’s face. you briefly wonder how jaemin manages to continue sleeping like that. renjun and jeno sleep comfortably in the remaining twin-sized bed, blankets pulled up to their ears.

everyone looks so peaceful, wrapped in their quilt cocoons and long-sleeved pyjamas.

just beyond chenle’s feet, sunlight filters into the room via the large two-panel window. you sit up to get a better look at the outside world, taking extra care not to accidentally wake chenle up.

outside, the entire scene is covered in snow.

the pine trees’ branches hang heavy with soft white powder, and there isn’t a single spot of uncovered ground. unadulterated, pristine, perfectly calm.

snowflakes fall lightly from the sky, each one unique and beautiful.

you take a deep breath, savouring the tranquillity of the silent morning. a smile creeps up your face.

it’s christmas.

with a satisfied grin, you flump back onto your pillow, reentering the realm of dreams.

more under the cut!

------------------ time skip ------------------

“you’re up late,” your mom chides, flipping two pancakes onto a plate for you. you don’t say anything, instead just taking the plate she holds out to you and grabbing a bottle of chocolate syrup.

“don’t be so harsh on y/n. they were up late last night pillow fighting or something,” donghyuck’s mother winks at you, raising her coffee mug in a mock toast.

you grin sleepily at her, winking back, while your own mother just sighs, knowing it’s futile to argue with her best friend.

all four sets of parents have been the best of friends since middle school. the lee family, whose children include mark, donghyuck and jeno, are the most laid back of the bunch. then there’s jisung and jaemin’s parents, who have been the designated lovebirds of the group since forever. your brother renjun has always said your family is the most strict of them all. and of course, there’s chenle’s parents, who seem to love everyone else more than their own child but in reality spoil him all the time.

every christmas, your families meet up at chenle’s parents’ resort house in the ski mountains to spend the holidays together. having grown up in each others’ company, the kids are all pretty much the best of friends too - eating with each other at school, going to the mall to shop, and basically doing every conceivable stupid thing together. after all, donghyuck and chenle are part of this friend group, what else would one expect?

“where’s everyone else?” you ask, mouth stuffed with fluffy pancakes. the adults chuckle at your child-like behaviour.

“they’re out playing in the snow,” jaemin’s mother points her thumb in the direction of the front door. “please make sure they don’t accidentally give each other frostbite by burying themselves in the snow,” jaemin’s mother beseeches. you stifle a laugh as you remember the last time that happened, and nod enthusiastically.

you put your jacket on, sleeve by sleeve, grab your book from off the coffee table and head out into the chilly morning air. shouts greet you the moment you step out the oakwood front door, and you have to dodge a snowball mere seconds after you close it.

you raise your middle finger into the air in the general direction of where the snowball came from, laughing. “your aim sucks!”

satisfied that they’ll leave you alone, you plop yourself onto the swing that stands on the porch, bringing your knees up to your chin and opening your book. the crisp, clean air of the mountains does wonders for your focus, and you’ve been putting this book off for a very long time.

every now and then you hear someone call for you to join them in “the revolutionising of snowball fights”, but whenever you’re just about to respond, they get mowed down by another one of the boys, and it’s basically chaos.

“whatcha reading?” mark walks up the stairs onto the elevated veranda, stomping snow off his boots. you look up and smile at him, watching as he shakes snowflakes out of his hair.

“pride and prejudice. i have to say, jane austen is incredibly humorous.” mark rolls his eyes and collapses onto the space next to you on the swing.

“you’re such a nerd, but i guess i am too.”

you turn back to your book, but soon you get uncomfortable with the silence between you, and the fact that mark is just sitting there. so you scoot over to his side, holding the pages open. “wanna read too?” mark nods his head in assent.

“loving this lizzy’s attitude,” mark comments casually, about five minutes into reading together. you agree wholeheartedly with him. you flip the page and he doesn’t complain.

he’s a pretty fast reader.

somewhere along the line, mark ends up squished next to you and your heads are together, both of you engrossed in what deserves the title of a classic. his hair peeks out from underneath his beanie, and it tickles the bottom of your ear, but you don’t move.

your head bumps against his when you adjust your position, and the two of you shy away from each other, each flusteredly apologising to the other. you bite your lip. has your heart always beat this hard with mark?

“h-hey, there’s, uh, mistletoe. above you,” mark points out, seemingly trying to diffuse the tension, but his eyes widen when he hears it. “wait- you don’t have to kiss me, i was just pointing it out because it was there and i felt the need to say something and oh god please don’t think i’m weird or anything-”

you shut him up by placing a hand over his mouth, pursing your lips in an attempt to keep from snorting when his entire face goes beet red. that’s cute.

“it’s… fine. it’s fine.” you smile gently at him, and the pink in his cheeks subsides a little, though he’s still too embarrassed to meet your eyes.

“you’re okay to… stay here?” mark mumbles. you say yes, enjoying the way mark edges back to his previous spot right next to you.

his hand creeps over to yours, almost comically indiscreet. you resist the urge to chuckle yet again. when his skin touches yours, your pinkies link up instinctively.

they fit together perfectly.

you both look at the ground, too shy to face each other, but something about the wordless act was more romantic than it would be otherwise.

------------------ meanwhile ------------------

donghyuck and jeno watch you two from afar.

donghyuck, satisfied, says, “i told you it was a good idea to put the mistletoe on the swing. see, now this makes up for not getting mark a christmas present, right?”

jeno smacks the back of donghyuck’s head, and donghyuck’s head snaps forward. “that hurt!” he whines as he runs off, defending himself against more attacks.

jeno laughs at donghyuck, but glances back at the pair of you. the corner of his lips turn up knowingly as mark pulls his collar up, hiding his red ears and cheeks.

“knew you could do it,” jeno whispers under his breath, happy for his brother, before turning back around and running after donghyuck.

© marklilies, 2021. all rights reserved.

taglist: @jensrose, @neocuddlytechnology, @moontines, @minhyunct, @moonsclover, @beombon (send an ask to be added!)

networks: @kflixnet, @/ficscafe

[tommeraas-cc]

A warning about high polycount custom content - for downloaders and creators

I don't claim to be an expert on custom content, but I've been making CC for nearly 4 years now and I think I've learned a thing or two about how to spot custom content that might not be best for your computer/game. I only recently got a computer that can handle some of the CC out there, so I wanted to make a guide on how to spot CC that might not be right for you if you want fast loading times, minimal overheating, or your computer isn't as powerful. This guide will mostly be about clothing, but I'm sure most of these things can be applied to other types of CC.

Disclaimer: Absolutely no hate to anyone who makes CC that is high polycount -- I am guilty of doing this without disclosing it earlier in my CC making journey. We are all learning and improving every day and we all have different preferences for our own CC making which is the fun part of this community :) If you are a CC creator who needs help avoiding high polycount please message me and I would 100% be willing to you help you 

High polycounts 

3D content is made up of vertices that connect to each other to create a 3D model that can be molded into different shapes (the small segments that make up these larger shapes are called polygons). The more little dots you have, the more detailed the item can be. However, there are ways to include detail without using a high number of these vertices and polygons, it just takes time and practice.

Why should I be wary of downloading CC with a high polycount? 

There is a reason that clothing made by EA/Maxis has a limit to the number of polygons they can use in their meshes. If an item of CC has too high of a polycount, it could drastically slow down your game, overheat your computer, cause your game to crash, or even permanently damage the hardware of your computer. Of course, there are different tolerances for high polycounts based on the specs of your computer, so be aware of this before downloading. If your computer cannot run smoothly on the ultra graphics setting without CC installed, you should probably be proactive about the kind of CC you download to avoid these issues. 

However, even those with high end computers can run into issues when trying to play with a lot of this kind of CC, so it is up to the individual player to decide what they want for their game. I permanently damaged my last computer by busting a fan due to graphics rendering in the Sims 4. Please do not make the same (very expensive) mistakes I have.

The case for high polycounts:

There are certain clothing items that would not be possible to model in the sims without a high polycount. The creators who make these very detailed meshes are super talented and have my utmost respect, but my old computer just couldn’t handle them! My rule of thumb for my own personal game is that if I’m going to download something with a crazy high poly count, it better be something special. In my opinion, there’s no reason a simple tank top should be 3x the polycount of an average EA mesh. A handful of high polycount items aren’t going to crash your game (probably-- know your own computer’s limits), but considering most people will download many items from the same creator, the collection of all of those items may cause issues.

CC creators make their meshes for fun and creativity, and many don’t create for the express purpose of having many people use a bunch of their meshes in their games at once. It’s totally fine to make high polycount custom content, but if you’re a CC creator it would be respectful to people who download your items and support you to be warned of these possible issues (especially if they are paying for them!!!). Most CC creators have high-end computers, but downloaders might not, which is something to keep in mind :)

How high is too high?

This is honestly a personal preference. For me, anything with more than double the average polycount is “unacceptable without disclosing” and must include a disclaimer when I post it. For toddler full body outfits, which is what I normally make, I would consider this to be around 10-12K as the max acceptable polycount to post without a disclaimer. This number varies based on the type of CC, with adult polycounts being higher usually (given that items are quite literally larger than toddler items). For adult full-body outfits, I try to stay under 15K, and anything over 20k I would consider needing a disclaimer. But, again, this is up for personal debate, and there are a lot of factors that go into this. I am just basing this information on EA’s limits and my personal experience from playing this game on lower end computers.

How to spot high poly-count CC 

So, you’ve decided that for your personal game, you want to avoid high polycount CC. Unfortunately, many creators do not disclose when their CC has an high polycount, so it’s up to you to figure out which is which.

Before you download the item: for clothing, the easiest way to spot high polycount CC from preview photos is to look for folding in the fabrics. I don't have a high polycount CC of my own that is completed to show you, and I don’t want to put another creators CC here out of respect, so here is an example of an unfinished mesh that can get the point across. 

As you can see, the folds in the sleeves look like they are mostly physically present, and that the folds aren't a result of the texture. This often results in sort of a "bumpy" look to the CC. If you're seeing clothing that has this tell-tale bumpy look with many folds that you can tell are 3-dimensional, you should probably avoid this CC (if you have decided to avoid high polycount CC). A small amount of bumps is normal but as you can tell by this skirt it's a little more extreme. 

Below you can see the low polycount version of this cc item where the folds look much smoother and are not as 3 dimensional. I added details like the folds in the sweater and at the top of the skirt with textures and mapping rather than a high polycounts as you might be able to tell by the fact that there are smooth edges rather than 3D folds. I have a small section of ruffles on the sleeves that have maintained a higher polycount which you can see by the physical ruffles. Details like this are impossible to do with just textures.

There are many CC creators much more talented than I that are very good at using texture images to give off the illusion of detail without high polycounts. Look at the edges of the item where folds appear and if there’s a smooth line there, the creator might be using textures and mapping to give the illusion of folding!

After you download the item: Of course, you can always download Sims4Studio, the program CC creators use to import their meshes into the sims format, to check polycounts. If you open CC in this program and click the meshes tab, the polycount will be displayed here. I only do this for items that I think might be insane polycounts (like 100k+ or something ridiculous for clothing, which is about ten times higher than I would recommend) that might crash my game, otherwise, I usually just go by how the item looks in the previews with the tips I just told you.

There are some CC items that are pretty much guaranteed to have high polycounts. The vast majority of alpha hair will have high polycounts -- this is unavoidable and does not mean the CC is not high quality, it is just a necessity for that kind of CC. Just be aware that having many alpha CC hairs in your game might cause slowdown/overheating. 

I am a CC creator who wants to start making lower polycount stuff that still has detail. How do I get started?

I started figuring out how to do detail via textures and normal mapping about two years ago. The main resource that helped me was this fantastic tutorial by SLYD. The main thing you need for this method is a lowpoly AND highpoly version of your mesh. It takes more time to do this versus making a highpoly mesh but I think the payoff is worth it to make good quality cc that everyone can enjoy :) (Also, another benefit is you won’t have to spend so long waiting for sims4studio to import your mesh) If you would like some tips on how to do this or have questions from that tutorial feel free to message me anytime! I also have a discord server where you can get help with CC making. Again, I am not the best expert around but I might know enough to help you.

Here is another discussion on this topic that I think is a really good read if you are interested :)

TL;DR if you’re a creator who makes high polycount stuff, please put a disclaimer on your downloads. If you’re a downloader, be aware of what your own personal game and computer can handle.

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon -  Once A Handmaiden (Second Half)

So Tumblr literally wouldn’t let me post the entire review in one post, so here is the second half, as promised. 

Just Because Zhan Tiri Speaks The Truth Here Doesn’t Mean She’s Some Master Manipulator All Of A Sudden

I’m mean, she’s right. Cassandra talks a big talk about being ‘sorry’ but she doesn’t actually do anything that would be considered an apology nor does she try to make amends for her past actions. Furthermore she could have given up the moonstone/mind-trap and/or stopped listening to Zhan Tiri at any point, including right now, but doesn’t.

However this isn’t some clever manipulation tactic on Zhan Tiri’s behalf. It’s just bad writing.  

Just Squish The Backstabbing Blackberry Already!

Only one person here has any power and it sure as heck ain’t Zhan Tiri.

Cassandra has the moonstone. She could simply just kick Zhan Tiri away or crush her with a rock. Meanwhile Zhan Tiri can’t do shit. If she actually had any of her demon powers she wouldn't have to rely on Cassandra and a bunch of increasingly convoluted schemes. 

That’s where the whole Cassandra and Zhan Tiri dynamic falls apart. The writers try to make it look like Cass is stuck in some abusive relationship with the shortstack, but in order for such a relationship to exist there has to be an actual exchange of power. 

Abuser's can only be abusive so long as there is an imbalance of power between them and their victims. 

Gothel is abusive because she’s an adult who has complete control over two little girls who are dependent on her for everything. 

King Frederic is abusive because he has political power over everyone and can dictate whether or not someone lives or dies on a whim.   

The Baron is abusive because he uses his money to coerce poor people into slaving away for him. 

King Edmund is abusive because he neglects his duties as a parent and leaves his young son to fend for himself. 

Moonsandra is a bully because she’s physically stronger than nearly everyone and uses that power to harm people. 

And Rapunzel takes advantage of all of the above power imbalances to her benefit throughout the show, along with the addition of peer pressure to force people to do what she wants them too. 

Zhan Tiri doesn’t have any of that. Not for the majority of her time on screen anyways. 

Now, you can, as an adult be tricked into an abusive relationship, like with an abusive spouse, toxic friend, or a cult, where the exchange of power is more gradual and subtle. But in each of these cases, the bully in question had to work hard to convince their victim that they were someone who the victim could trust and then had to offer something that they needed emotionally, like validation or security. Then they will later use the threat of taking that emotional (or sometimes physical) need away in order to keep their victim under their thumb. 

Zhan Tiri never does that. She hasn’t actually offered anything to Cassandra that Cassandra would want or need. Nor does she have anything to threaten Cassandra with if Cass doesn’t comply to what she wants. Cass is free to reject Zhan Tiri at anytime with zero consequence to herself, either emotional or physical, and as such can’t be a victim of abuse in this particular scenario. 

But watch as twitter Cass stans try to insist the opposite on the filmiest of basis because they can’t except that their fave did a bad thing.   

This Is So Fucking Forced

Why would Cassandra ever think this? What reason has she to believe this? For the past season Rapunzel has thrown away any self-respect and has been simping after Cass at every opportunity. And it’s not like she’s been shy about it at all. Or has Cassandra just forgotten the past three episodes she was in? 

And even if it was true, what would it matter? Cassandra has harmed more people than just Rapunzel. If she actually cared about being a good person then she would be trying to rectify things with everyone she’s hurt and not caring solely about Raps being her bestie again. 

That’s the problem with this conflict. The story has out grown Cassandra and Rapunzel. There’s more at stake here than just their fake friendship. As such both girls come across as incredibly self-centered and entitled as they continuously ignore the people who get wrapped up in their petty bitch fight.  

Once Again, Why Is Cass Surprised By The Consequences Of Her Own Actions, And Why Are We Pretending Like She’s The Victim Here?

People aren’t wrong for trying to defend themselves. Yeah, it sucks for Cass, but at the end of the day she has no one to blame but herself for it. Yet instead of accepting this and working to gain people trust again, she instead acts horrified that people, will, you know, take protective measurers to defend their home and loved ones.  

Remember when I talked about manipulative framing way back in my Return of the King review? They’re pulling the same trick here, focusing on Cassandra’s hurt feelings over the actual victims of her actions. 

It’s ironic really. The show can’t write intentionally manipulative villains for shit, but it sure as hell knows how to gaslight its own viewing audience.  

Zhan Tiri Is So Lame

It’s a sleeping potion. 

That’s her grand plan; a fucking sleeping potion. 

Heck I’m not even sure if she even made it herself or just stole it from Varian. 

I mean, she and Cass have pretty much stolen everything else from him. 

Varian was cool villain because he was the underdog. All his ‘tricks’ were simple steps in a larger plan, that actually made sense and cleverly compensated for his lack of strength, political power, and shear force of numbers that his opponents had. That made him simultaneously threatening and sympathetic. 

Zhan Tiri is neither of those things. She’s a demon who’s about as threatening a kitten in a litter box, though far less cute. Nor is she sympathetic because her goals and motivations are too shallow, and half the time the cast don’t even give a shit that she’s there. 

Does It Really Fucking Matter Rapunzel?

Okay first off, holding it inside the courtyard is not only safer but more practical anyways. I mean you don’t hold a greased pig catching contest out in the wild because you wouldn’t want to lose the pig, and a gopher is a lot smaller then a pig. Or did you just forget what happened the first year you entered into the gopher grab? You would think they would have moved the event to a stadium long before now in order avoid such accidents. 

Secondly, not everyone is you Rapunzel. Not everyone wants to roll around in the dirt out in the middle of the woods to catch some stupid rodent. Some would prefer to watch the event and an enclosed space with actual seating makes that easier to do. So shut the fuck up bitch. 

You know what, I take back what I said about Frederic being the worst. He at least pretended to care about the kingdom and his subjects every now and then. He also showed a modicum of critical thinking skills at times. 

Don’t get me wrong, Frederic still sucks ass, but of the two I would rather have him as ruler than a vapid selfish brat who has zero real experience but would rather humble brag about how much better she is than you at your own fucking life then legitimately put effort into helping you with anything. 

I just... wow! That’s where we are at people. The main character is now actively worse then her shitty abusive parents and we’re suppose to find this ‘relatable’ and ‘inspiring’. 

LIES!!!!

I mean, is there really anything else to say about this exchange? Not a single line spoken here is actually backed by anything on screen. Cassandra doesn’t have any reason to do anything. She has no goal and no true motivation. 

Also her ‘methods’ are kidnapping, assault, enslavement, and fucking murder. You can’t just whitewash that shit away as if she was a mere misunderstood vigilante who’s only crime is minor vandalism or something. 

And, no, there’s nothing more to it. It’s not secretly deep nor complex. There aren’t any layers to the characterization nor to the conflict at hand. There’s no ‘both sides’ this or ‘well, actually’ that. 

If there was then the writers would have put in the effort to show it! 

If it’s not on screen then it doesn’t count, and trying to plaster over the major holes in your writing with forced dialogue that contradicts what the audience already knows will not save you. 

This Steals Agency Away From The Characters, And That Is Never Good!

Tangled the Series wants to have it’s cake and eat it too. It wants to pretend that it’s main characters have choices and agency so that it can act like it’s showcasing ‘strong independent women’, but then it pulls shit like this so that said characters never have to suffer true consequences for their actions. 

This is the opposite of feminist writing. The whole point of feminism is fighting for women’s agency and choice. Which really means fighting for everyone to have the freedom of choice, but I digress. Whenever women complain about the portrayal of other women in media is all comes back to that lack of agency. 

Complaining about ‘The male gaze’ doesn't mean that the female character in question can’t wear sexy clothes; it means that the character didn’t get a choice in what to wear at all. ‘The damsel in distress’ isn’t weak because she can’t fight like a man; she’s weak because the writing won’t allow her to do anything productive at all. And ‘a strong independent woman’ is more than just someone who can throw a punch or be all broody and rude while preforming under the guise of traditional toxic masculinity. 

Writers, especially male writers, if you are listening, allow the women in your stories to make decisions, allow those decisions to be motivated by actual individualized thoughts, and then allow them to face logical consequences for those decisions. If you can do that for a male character, then you should be able to do it for a female character. There’s no excuse not to. 

Cassandra, You Idiot!

Does Cassandra need hearing aids? Has that been the true problem all along? Did she just mishear Gothel’s shitty orders during Cassandra’s Revenge? Does she think Zhan Tiri has been promising her something that she actually hasn’t? 

Because Rapunzel is literally two feet away from her telling her own guard to stand down and giving Cass that chance to explain like she asked for three seconds ago!!! 

Cassandra in season three does not behave like any human being actually would in her situation. Even someone on the edge of having a breakdown still has more clarity of thought than Moonsandra. 

Cassandra is not a victim when she’s the one instigating the conflict!!!  

It’s all so stupid. 

That’s my problem with the character and this whole damn arc; It’s dumb. 

I could forgive Cass if she had a legitimate reason to react the way she does to things. I could still respect her if she was a heartless bitch who did bad shit because she wanted to. But turning her into a moron just so that the show can pretend she’s some misunderstood woobie in need of hug... un-uh. Nope. That’s fucking insulting; both to the character and to women everywhere. 

Even The Animation Has Been Downgraded This Season

On the one hand, the animation this season is actually smoother than the last two; but it also has way more animation errors; like the above. 

Now, animation is hard. You’ll find production errors in even big mainstream films if you look hard enough, and animators on tv shows are often under paid and over worked. I am not one to usually point out flaws like this because I understand the grind. 

However, the decline in quality in what is the second to last episode showcases far deeper underlining problem. Usually you’ll let animation errors slide in an early filler episode because you’re throwing your time, attention, and money on your finale... your big ratings draw episodes. But with TTS it’s the opposite. And keep in mind, season three had less episodes than past seasons to keep up with. 

Altogether this tells me that this episode, and the finale suffered through a rushed production. Which means it must have suffered from several last minute rewrites in preproduction... even though your show’s ending, in a story like this, should be determined before even drawing a single frame of animation. Yes, fine details can change here and there, you can tweek things as needed, but you shouldn’t be rewriting things whole sale during hiatus between seasons two and three... that’s bullshit. 

Animation doesn’t get ‘reshoots’. Animation doesn’t have ‘editing’.  Animation is way too long a process for things not top be planed out from the get go. 

And while it’s annoying as a viewing audience to watch such shit writing; the people I really feel sorry here is for the crew; cause you just know Disney wasn’t compensating them enough for the shit ton of overtime they were forced to work to get this crap out.  More then one story-boarder called this show ‘hell’ to work for online; which is big considering how tight lip you have to be about working conditions in studios for fear of losing your job. 

This all falls at the feet of Chris and Ben, the co-producers/head-writers. I mean sure, there’s things Disney as a company and the industry as whole can improve on, like better pay and benefits, but at the end of the day, mismanagement of the budget, demanding rewrites for things that did not need to be changed, and failing to respect their crew is on them. 

There’s No Real Conflict Here

There’s no reason for any argument here. No one wants to fight, nothing is at stake, and there’s not even any real tension since the crew has been signposting Cassandra’s redemption all season long. No matter how this ends, I, the viewer, knows it will be undone by the next episode anyways because there’s only this and the finale to go. Therefore I have little reason to be invested in what’s going on here.

At this point most of the viewing audience that were still left were watching solely for the Varian and Quirin/Brotherhood stuff. Yeah there were a handful of New Dream shippers and Casspunzel shippers hanging on as well, but they are far and away the minority in the TTS fandom. And even then, that still wasn’t enough for most people as the ratings continued to plummet. 

Don’t believe me? New Dream has gone back to focusing mainly on the OG movie. A small subset of Casspunzel fans, who only care about Cass and nothing else, are too busy bitching on twitter and sucking up to Chris (even though he’s the one who sunk their ship and ruined their fav) to produce any real content. Meanwhile, the people who are actually keeping the fandom alive are the Varian fans and the AU people who realized that the writing was shit but that the concepts had potential. 

Even the majority of Cass fans and Casspunzel shippers fall into that later category now. The rabied twitter base is just that, twitter being twitter, they aren’t the majority and never were, no matter how loud and obnoxious they can be at times. Meaning Chris and writers completely missed the mark on what this show should have been about. 

This Is A Cop-Out

Let her finish!

Go on. Let her finish that thought. Give us an actual reason for her behavior for once. Tell us why this conflict is still going on. Heck, tell us why we’ve had to put up with this bullshit for two seasons now to begin with. Explain something show!

This is literally the writers admitting that they ain’t got a fucking clue about what’s going on themselves. 

Stop Stealing Agency Away From The Characters Show!!!

Varian has a bucket load of very legitimate reasons to pull the trigger on Cassandra himself; and each one is a far more compelling conflict than this bullshit.

Cassandra was a shit friend to him same as the rest of the cast; and unlike Rapunzel, she hasn’t even pretended to care nor put forth an effort to be friends once again. She abandoned him, and then she turned on him for her own personal gain. Until they were literally trying to kill each other on a battlefield. After which, she abandoned him once again. 

There’s a history here that could be exploited for drama but isn’t because Varian’s screen time and importance has to be unnaturally suppressed. This is because Chris doesn’t want him to be more popular than the two main girls (even though he already is anyway) and doesn’t want the focus taken off of them despite their conflict between each other being as boring as shit. 

Then there’s the fact that Cassandra kidnapped him and physically abused him; which could also have tied back into that previous drama between them but didn’t for the same reasons. Even ignoring how personally hurt Varian would be by such actions, he’s the only who has seen Cassandra for who she really is. He knows more than either Rapunzel or Eugene about how dangerous she is. 

That could also be a compelling conflict as Varian not trusting the mains to do their actual jobs has been the crux of his story since season one. And in this instance, the public would be on his side. He’s protecting Corona; they aren’t. The tables have turned. 

Every time you steal agency away from a character you weaken your story. By forcing them to only react to things rather than making choices themselves you stop them from pushing the story forward; which in turn can oversimplify the conflict and reduce tension. 

Even in a story where the conflict is only survival, like in say a disaster movie, characters till have to have agency and choice in how they respond to events; thereby having the possibility of either making an already bad situation better or worse. 

Stop Acting Sad, You Can Just Free Her When Ever You Want To Rapunzel

Of course, any tension this development could have had is already undermined by freeing Quirin too early from the amber. We the audience already know that Cass won’t die from this and that Rapunzel has the power to just free her whenever. The characters themselves should also know this so the behavior here from everyone is just bizarre.  

BULLSHIT!!!

Way to undermine three seasons worth of conflict show!

OK, if the black rocks could just destroy the amber then why the heck did Adira not try to cut her brother out using her sword back in season one?! Are you telling me she didn’t even fucking try? I thought saving her home and family was her entire motivation for season two? 

Also, if Cass can just easily break out of her own accord then what was the fucking point for trying to build up the amber a solution to the rocks? Even what very small tension we could have had over her being imprisoned is now lost as well. 

She’s so overpowered now that she can’t in any conceivable way claim she’s the victim here; nor was she ever. They only weapon against her was proven to be a dud. Everyone else are now the underdog, they are the victims, not her! You’ve just lost any sympathy you could have had for the character, and you didn’t have a whole lot to begin with! 

Lastly, Cassandra being able to think, move, ect while encased goes against what was established about the amber before hand. There’s nothing on screen to back this development up nor explain how she pulled it off. 

This entire escape is the very definition of an ass-pull! 

Defending Yourself From Abusers Isn’t Wrong Writers

Cassandra is still not the victim here. Rapunzel is still full of shit for ‘trusting’ her. And the fact that the amber didn’t work to resolve the conflict is not the failing of those who built the gun to begin with. 

Everything leading up to this point and everything going forward is Cassandra’s fault and she doesn’t have a leg to stand on as an excuse. 

We Get It, She’s Gothel’s Daughter. No One Cares Show!

This line doesn’t work in context. No one ‘forced’ Cass to be a bad guy as she was already pulling off villainy shit long before now of her own volition. In the movie Gothel said this line because she was finally dropping the ‘nice guy’ act, but Cassandra has never pretended anything. That’s just not the type of person she is. I would even argue that her being all palsy-walsy with the gang right before her ‘betrayal’ in Destinies Collide was out of character. 

Because Cassandra isn’t Gothel. Cassandra is Cassandra and you can’t just slot her into Gothel’s role and have it make any sense. Cassandra isn’t good at faking emotions. Cassandra isn’t some master manipulator. Cassandra is a bullying brute. Even if she suddenly had better motivations for her actions; that wouldn’t change her usual attitude or way of accomplishing shit, which is to hit things very very hard. 

And that is what makes her interesting! Cassandra being rude, pushy, and aggressive is what marks her as different from the rest of the villains in the show. With the exception of The Stabbingtons, most of the villains in the show are strategists. Some might be capable of fighting when they need to, but most of them prefer using manipulation, trickery, and stealth to gain the upper hand. The fact that Cassandra will just plow on through simply because she can, makes her unique. So constantly having her ape Varian and Gothel’s methods is a disservice to her character. 

I don’t mind the concept of Cassandra being Gothel’s daughter, but it’s literately the most boring aspect of the character. Like, yeah it can exist to add flavor text to her background, to complement the larger narrative, but to make it the end all and be all of who she is strips away everything that made her initially likable and interesting. 

It also entirely misses the point behind why people enjoy offspring trope in fiction. It’s particularly telling that even most Cass fans ignore the Gothel twist in fanworks or when defending/analyzing the character. Even the most hardcore Cass stans do not care about this aspect of her story. 

Oh No, A Non-Toxic Sleep Powder That Wears Off In A Few Hours, How Evil

I just ‘love’ how this one act gets more dramatic tension and focus than literally any of the more evil shit Cass has done, including her destroying the whole kingdom within this very episode. No one gives a damn about murder, but using knock out gas on the main protag? ‘Oh no! Whatever will they do!? Truly Cassandra is beyond redemption for doing such a thing to Rapunzel.’  

And by ‘love’ I mean hate. Why is this the breaking point and not the torturing of a minor, all the attempted murder, or her brainwashing four innocent people into being her mindless slaves? 

Also how did Cass manage not to get conked out by her own sleeping potion when she threw it down right in front of her? 

Why Does Varian Care?

Varian doesn’t owe Cassandra jack shit. This woman has repeatedly betrayed and harmed him. And now she is currently in the middle of threating his home and loved ones. 

Redemption for Varian shouldn’t mean making him a doormat for everyone else. Showing empathy and compassion shouldn’t involve confronting those who abused you while they’re in the middle of threating you still.  

Varian still taking the effort to reason with Cassandra, even now, only proves that he is the best human being on this damned show. It is not the reassurance that Cassandra is still sympathetic that the writers think it is. 

Also This Exchange Doesn’t Make Any Sense For Either Character

Cassandra never gave a shit about Corona. She’s barely has any connection to the people who live here. The only thing that kept her from leaving was Rapunzel and her dad, both of whom she is no longer speaking to. Outside of them, there’s only two other people she didn’t actively hate being around, Eugene and ironically Monty. Neither of whom seem to mean that much to her. So why should Casandra care now?

It also doesn’t make any sense for Varian to be the one arguing this point with her, seeing as how Corona isn’t actually his home either. It’s Old Corona. The island kingdom treated him like shit, and even post redemption few people seem to really care about him here. 

Wouldn’t the more logical argument for Varian to make be how breaking things here won’t accomplish anything? I mean if you had to have him reach out at all, then at least let him give a rational point that actually counters Cassandra’s irrational bullshit and lays bare how stupid she is being right now? 

But of course that would require holding Chris’s precious waifu accountable for her actions and we can’t have that now can we? 

Yup, Cass Sure Is the Real Victim Here

These people literally did nothing to her. They’re only ‘fault’ was trying to defend themselves from her, after she had already threatened them, attacked them, and attempted to murder some of them. Now here she is destroying their homes and nearly killing them all for nothing more than what amounts to a temper tantrum. 

Look, I’m not complaining that Cassandra does bad things as a villain. I’m not trying to pull some purity culture bullshit here. Her doing a bad thing isn’t the point. It’s the fact that she has no logical reason to do this particular ‘bad thing.’ Yet the narrative constantly tries to frame her selfishness and stupidity as something that we, the audience, should pity her for. 

No.

I do not sympathize with assholes, sorry. 

Either give your supposedly ‘complex’ villain an actual fucking reason to do the things they do, or make them fully self-aware jackoffs whom we aren’t suppose to root for. 

Like, you can still be a fan of the Joker in Batman, but he’s not someone who’s point of view you’re suppose to consider. He’s a jerk. He knows he’s a jerk. He wants to be a jerk. There’s nothing else too him, other than that he’s entertaining while doing irredeemable shit. 

On the flip side, you got Mr. Freeze. Who, since the 90s at least, is the very definition of ‘cool motive, still murder’. All he wants to do is save his wife. That doesn’t make anything he does magically right, but you can still feel sorry for him when he loses. Because while his motive is simple, it’s a more complex situation because there’s no easy way out for him.  

Both are effective villains, while serving two different story functions. Cassandra meanwhile falls into neither category and so winds up being ineffective and a detriment to the over all story. 

Welp, Those Guys Are Dead

If we think about what’s happing here logically, there’s no way Cassandra didn’t kill people during all this. It’s just a numbers game at this point. There's too many people and too much wide spread destruction for that not to be the case. 

What about these two guards here, that we never see again? What about the other no named townspeople that we don’t see after this episode? Heck what about the prisoners in the dungeons who can’t run away? (I just notice they weren’t with evacuation group in Queen for a Day either)  

Yet watch as the series presents the background and side characters fighting for their lives as being comedic and Cassandra’s violence towards them as over the top cartoony; even though this isn’t a comedy. 

That’s one of the fundamental problems with Tangled the Series. It wants us to take it’s conflicts seriously and it wants to introduce these deeper, more mature themes, but then it refuses to do anything with those themes and water downs it’s own conflicts. 

You can still be mature and be for kids; this show is neither. It’s too careless to be mature and it’s too heartless to be for children. 

Can We Please Stop With The Sister Shit?

She tried to murder you dude. 

She tried to murder your wife.

She’s right now trying to murder you’re whole fucking kingdom! 

Now is not the time to ‘reason’ with the bitch. 

Even Cass is done with this BS. 

And you know what the really sad thing here is? 

I actually buy Eugene’s claims that he cares about Cassandra as a sister more so than anyone else in the show. Certainly more so than Rapunzel. If nothing else because season one took the time to set up that relationship. 

Only for seasons two and three to promptly forget all about it. This might just be the first time they’ve had a one on one conversation since The Alchemist Returns. So this isn’t coming from a place of honesty but is more manipulative writing to further Eugene’s transformation into a doormat. 

Also, having everyone try to ‘reach out’ to Cassandra and constantly offer her sympathy and second chance after second change; even without Rapunzel there to push them into it; kind of undermines the whole narrative that Cassandra is just a misunderstood misfit whom no one loved until Rapunzel came along. 

You can’t have your cake and eat it too. Either your character is really alone and an outcast or they aren’t. There’s no middle ground there. 

Oh, But No One Gives A Crap About Cassandra Brainwashing Innocent People To Be Her Personal Slaves

Like I said before, no one calls Cassandra out for this. She suffered no consequences for taking the mind trap, and she suffers no consequences for using it here. And she had it with her this entire time! She could have given it up at any point, but she didn’t because she’s full of shit. 

She doesn’t actual care about redemption or setting things right. She never truly gave a damn about ‘forgiveness’ or being friends with Rapunzel again. This entire episode was about Cassandra’s ego being deflated and nothing more. Because every damn episode with Cassandra is ultimately about her stupid ego. Because ‘ego’ is what Chris cares about. A bruised ego is the worst thing that can happen to a person to Chris’s mind, because Chris has never suffered true oppression as a middle aged, middle classed, straight white man.  

Why Haven’t We Moved Past This?

Last time you saw her, she kicked your ass instead of saying goodbye and then proceeded to fuck off into the woods never to speak with you again. That’s about as close to a resounding ‘no’ you’re ever going to get. 

What happened to all that character development in season two? What happened to Lance’s responsibility arc? What happened to at least gaining Adira’s respect? 

This is no longer funny. The joke has run it’s course. It also fails at being heartwarming or tense because there’s a good chance that even a non-brainwashed Adria would attack Lance anyway because he’s annoying to her. 

All this is, is another pathetic reminder that writers really screwed over Lance. 

THEN WHY DIDN”T YOU DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT THREE EPISODES AGO!!!???

Does Lance even know what the Mind Trap is? Did you bother to explain to him what happened in Race to the Spire? Did you bother to warn anyone? Did you not come up with a plan for this, given that you’ve known about it for weeks now!? 

You can’t just assume that all the characters know what the audience knows. That fundamentally misunderstands how communication in storytelling works. We the audience can be privy to things that they characters wouldn’t logically know. Therefor the audience also needs to know what each individual character knows, and at what point in the story they gain such information. If you don’t show the characters gaining intel as needed then the audience can become very quickly confused by what’s going on and why. 

For instance, I’m still asking if Varian knows about the mind trap and that his father is in the brotherhood or not. I’m still asking this despite the series being over with and the mind trap controlling his dad being a major fucking plot point to his arc. Yet the series never reveals this basic ass information! He’s magically aware when it’s convenient for the plot and unaware or forgetful when it’s not. Even though that’s not how human beings work. 

I’m also still asking why it took three whole fucking episodes to get back to this plot? Why haven’t the heroes been more ball about Cassandra and Zhan Tiri’s plans? Oh, yeah, Rapunzel knows all about Zhan Tiri but still hasn’t said anything to anyone on screen so I don’t know who knows about the deamon either. 

Also why didn’t Cass and Zhan Tiri use the mind trap before now? What did they gain by waiting? Were they just holding off until Hector and Adria could travel here? If so, then how did Cass know that they were close enough to attack now? Did they make a pitstop at the tower during Tale of Two Sisters, and then went hiding inside the castle just for this moment during Flynnposter? Is that what I’m suppose to assume? Then why the fuck didn’t the writers show that to be the case? 

I’m putting more thought into this then the crew did, aren’t I? 

This Is Actually Really Horrific And The Show Does Not Do It Justice

The Brotherhood being forced to fight their family while brainwashed is fucking terrifying. We have aunts and uncles fighting their nephews, father’s fighting their sons, and siblings fighting siblings. Can you imagine the shear horror at waking up and finding you may have murdered your own child without knowing it? Or were forced to slay your own brother in self defense despite knowing that he wasn’t in control of his own actions? 

That’s some good drama right there! But the show doesn’t ever take advantage of it correctly. Because the show refuses to focus on these relationships when needed. 

I’ve already talked about how Adira fighting Lance is narratively weakened by the fact that she wasn’t allowed to form a real friendship with him. But we also see Hector and Edmund fighting each other in this same scene, and it’s the first time they’ve ever met on screen! We aren’t even told told that they are brothers until the next episode, and it’s only used for a cheap ‘twist’ that anyone could have guessed ages ago and doesn’t really add anything to the narrative. Well, not anything satisfying anyway. 

The only two relationships that get any focus is Varian vs Quirin and Eugene vs Edmund; but even that fails because the series failed to build those two relationships up as well. With Quirin being reduced to a pale shadow of his former self, and Edmund being inadvertently turned into an abusive jackass instead of the tragic figure they series was shooting for. 

Well That Was A Waste of A Pay Off

Varian spent three seasons trying to find a way to stop the black rocks. He finally finds that way, only for it to be easily destroyed minutes later. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Varian and Cassandra undermine each other’s arcs. There’s no room for them to both exist within the story, because Chris won’t allow them both to exist. 

Varian and Cassandra should complement each other, not compete with each other. They could have teamed up, or stayed on opposing sides, or been mirrors to each other and learned from one another... There’s any number of ways to fix the story and give them both equal relevance. 

But they don’t do that because Chris tried to write Varian out of the story, got push back for doing so and lost ratings, and so he then shoved Varian back in for fan service and nothing more. He’s here to draw in viewers but isn’t allowed to have any actual plot importance. Because Chris is a moron who thinks that reducing a popular character’s story relevance will magically make his favored character more popular. It doesn’t. 

Two years later and I am still utterly baffled by such a creative decision. That’s a level of ineptitude that I did not know existed; much less to come out of Disney of all places. Especially in regards to one of their more successful IPs. 

So What Is The Plan Here?

No seriously, what’s Cassandra’s plan here? 

She already has Edmund under her control. So why waste manpower by having him and Hector fake fight? Why risk losing your man on the inside or your current solider should either of them harm the other? Also why have your puppet convince everyone to retreat if you’re hell bent on destroying everyone anyways? 

Of course this is suggesting that Moonsandra thinks at all. 

As I said before, Cassandra is not the type to carefully plan ahead. Her even having sleeper agents seems out of character for her. Zhan Tiri might, but Zhan Tiri is never shown using the mind trap herself. 

It’s also hard to argue that Edmund isn’t being controlled here because, why would Cassandra hold back from using every force available to her. Especially since she’s not thinking rationally right now and is throwing a temper tantum.

Then there’s Edmund’s behavior in the finale, but we’ll get to that when we get that.  

That’s You’re First Thought Rapunzel?

You can clearly see that you and everyone you know are inside the Snuggly Duckling right now and not the courtyard that you were in last. Shouldn’t you be logically asking how you got there and why everybody else is there too? 

Sure, ask about Cass at some point, but like she shouldn’t be your first concern right now.

Since When Is The Snuggle Duckling That Close To The Capital?

It took a full day of travel to get from the Snuggly Duckling to the island in the movie. Even counting the detour to the mines, you still shouldn’t be able to see the island from the inn. It should take at least a couple of hours to get from one end of the kingdom to the other. Having Rapunzel easily run from there and back in a matter of minutes kind of undermines the film and makes the kingdom of Corona feel too small. 

Don’t Expect This To Go Anywhere

When you first see this angry look on Rapunzel’s face, you’ll be tempted to think that this is where she finally gets serious about the issues at hand and sees Cassandra for the threat that she is. 

Well she doesn’t. 

It’s another failed narrative promise. 

Also don’t expect the kingdom being destroyed to actually matter either. 

This Is A Failed Attempt At Dramatic Irony  

So we have this framing of Cassandra of sitting on the throne, completely alone inside the ruins of her former home. Which would be really tragic, if actually meant anything! 

They tried to pull this same framing back in Cassandra’s Revenge, and it didn’t work there either. You wanna know why? 

Because Cassandra never expressed any desire to rule!

You see, in order for the image of Cassandra sitting on a throne in an empty room to hold any meaning it must actually be symbolic of something. But of what I couldn’t tell you because Cassandra doesn’t have a fucking goal. 

If she had wanted the throne previously. Had wanted to be the princess, or whatever, then the series needed to actually convey that info to us. Let Cass claim she has a right to throne or something, and then make that claim logical. 

Her being Gothel’s daughter doesn’t tie into that, for Gothel had no claim to the throne. Her stealing the moonstone has nothing to do with it because why would she think the people would crown her for committing treason? Her killing Rapunzel wouldn’t have done anything because the King and Queen still exist and Cass isn’t in line for the throne. If she was fighting against Corona’s classist system in general then you might have had something to work off of, but she never expresses disdain for the royals mistreatment of others, only anger at her own personal mistreatment which isn’t even that bad comparatively speaking, and just goes on to hurt more poor people. 

So not only does she not have any reason to want to rule, and has never expressed any desire to do so before, but her actions would not logically suggest that’s what she was after either. So this scene here is utterly worthless. 

Compare that to something like, Citizen Kane. One of the best and most well known examples of dramatic irony in cinema. 

Kane is a rich insecure asshole who dies alone after driving away and/or abusing anyone who might have cared for him. That’s not a spoiler by the way. That’s how the movie opens. 

On his deathbed he whispers one word, ‘rosebud’. The rest of the film is about a reporter trying to figure out what ‘rosebud’ means as he writes a story about the infamous Kane’s life. All through out the film, told in flashback, we watch Kane fail at every attempt to make people like him. He’s relationships are all awful, his attempt at politics and publicity fails, even his once successful newspaper eventually falls under all due to his own worst tendencies. 

His tragedy comes from the fact that he was separated from his parents when young. His mother put him up for adoption thinking he would have a better life then the one she could provide, only for that not to be the case when it turns out that his relationship with his rich adopted father wasn’t the best. On the day he was carried away from her her and his home, he had been sledding in the snow on a new sled that she had bought for him. 

The sled had the word ‘rosebud’ on the front. You find out at the very end of the film as it burns away that Kane was wishing for his sled. Which was the last time he was ever happy. The sled is a symbol for his lost innocence and disconnect from his mother. The trauma of which ruined any relationship he could have had thereafter as he feared losing even more people and so was self sabotaging in everything he did in order not get too close.  

There’s more nuance to it than that, if you actually watch the film, but that is the general outline. And of course it’s not spelled out to you word for word, but it is clearly communicated nonetheless. You’re shown the defining tragedy from nearly the beginning; despite being told in flashback the film is pretty linear. You watch as Kane becomes a worse and worse person, slowly losing any redeeming qualities he once had as he repeatedly fails, until he’s left with nothing but an empty mansion as the consequence of his mistreatment of others. 

Once the reveal of the sled is made you instinctively realize what it represents because you now know this man’s life story, what motivated him, what his goals were, and why he never achieved his greatest wish.  

You have no such understanding of Cassandra, despite her having double the screen time of Kane. She has no goals, no motivation for what she does, and no deeper wish nor need to fulfill. I can’t feel sorry for her because I don’t know what she’s lost. Even temporally, because we all know even this small consequence will be reversed by the end of the next episode anyway.  

Conclusion

So there it is, the worst episode of Tangled the Series, and perhaps the worst episode of television I have ever seen. This is why the salt marathon exists. I needed to explain why this series is so bad from an actual writing perspective. Because it’s a learning opportunity for those who are interesting in writing for themselves, including myself. Knowing why something doesn’t work helps you to understand how to make it work later on. 

Next up is the series finale. Which will hopefully only be three parts long, but we will see. Depends on how Tumblr wants to behave. From there we have a few more shorts to cover and the recap. So we’re almost done, but with the holidays I make no promises as to when the reviews will come out

[weepinglevi]

summary: fem!reader and porco get it on in the bathroom. porco has his phone to document everything for colt, who is reader's boyfriend. all aged up to be 21+. warnings: 18+ minors dni. infidelity! semi-public sex, slight dacryphilia, heavy dirty talk, mirror sex, creampie - reader doesn't know he's filming at first but is okay with it. also poor colt :( word count: around 1.6k beta reader: the most wonderful @1252291 came through. love you to the moon and back. <3 A/N: contribution to my adult movie tropes collab! pock brainrot is strong with this one. i hope you enjoy and feedback is always greatly appreciated. take care and lots of love. xx

you know it’s wrong.

the moment he closes the door behind him and turns the key, you’re torn between wanting to push him away and pulling him in even closer. leaning against the cold porcelain of the sink, you take a shaky breath. outside, they’re playing music and you hear annie’s shrieking laugh.

outside is the party colt took you to. to meet his friends, as he had put it.

now you’re here, in a small bathroom at an unknown house, not with colt – but with porco galliard. heart beating heavy in your chest as he lets his eyes wander over your body, you feel small and pathetic. still, the longing that has brought you here is slowly catching fire, turning into lust.

he doesn’t say a word when he takes a step toward you, placing his hands on your hips and grabbing them tightly. his grip is sure to leave a bruise but with how he breathes against your ear, you don’t care anymore. “i-“

“shh, you’re gonna kill the mood,“ porco chuckles and dips his head down, driving the flat of his tongue against your collarbone before pulling away and blowing against it, causing you to shiver and the tiny hairs on your body to stand up in anticipation.

you know it’s wrong, know you shouldn’t allow him to hook his hands under your thighs and lift you up so you can sit on the edge of the sink – so why are you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer than he already was?

“fuck, you’re needy, aren’t you,” he rests his forehead against yours, voice coming deep and stirring the heat in your belly, making you feel as if you’re about to implode, “he doesn’t know how to fuck you in the right way, huh?”

there’s no need for you to answer, no need to state the obvious, so you stretch your neck to close the small distance between his lips and yours, crashing against him. tasting the bitterness of the vodka he had just minutes ago, you close your eyes and let a whimper escape. he’s right.

he’s laughing against your lips now, knowing you agree with him.

“he shouldn’t have brought you here.” leaning back, his eyes seem to be darker than before and his pushed back hair is starting to come loose, “should’ve known i’d be all over his pretty little girlfriend.”

even though you hate yourself for it, you nod.

“that’s right,” he brings his hand up to your jaw, grazing his thumb against your lower lip and then pushing into your mouth, index and middle finger soon to follow, “make sure they’re nice and wet, we don’t have much time.”

he’s not nice and doting, not asking what you want like colt always does. he just takes with expectations – ones you are more than willing to meet. so you lock your eyes with his as you gag on his fingers alone, knowing to heed his warning; you try to soak them in your own drool.

when your eyes are brimming with tears, he pushes down even further, causing you to cough and the tears to flow over.

“crying, already?” he coos. “he must treat you like you’re made of glass, hm?”

leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulls out, he breaks free from the hold your legs had around his waist. there’s a short laugh leaving him when he’s giving you another once-over and then nods.

“stand up,” tugging at your dress, he seems impatient, “told you we don’t have a lot of time.”

as soon as you slide down, porco turns you around and presses you up against the sink, cold stone digging into your hips as he bends you forward. looking up, you see the reflection of yourself and him in the mirror in front of you. catching a glimpse of his smirk, you look back down.

as long as you’re not looking at him, you wouldn’t feel as bad and that’s why you train your gaze on how your hands are grabbing the edge of the sink.

his hands slip under your dress, he’s quick to pull your panties aside before gliding his thumb through your slick folds. “so wet already.”

one hand placed on your ass, thumb holding your underwear in place, he slides his fingers into you without any warning. your walls tighten around him instantly, causing you to bite down on your tongue to hold back the moan that otherwise would’ve filled the room.

“c’mon, tell me how good i feel,” his digits pumping in and out of your already throbbing cunt, obscene sounds bouncing off the tiled walls, “how much better i feel than he does.”

“some-” - trying to collect your thoughts while also fucking yourself onto porco’s fingers leaves you breathless, “someone’s gonna hear.”

all he does is laugh when he pulls out one final time and goes to circle your clit, leaving you to clench around nothing and bucking onto the ball of his thumb until he completely pulls away from you.

legs already shaking and head hanging low, you hear him unbuckling his belt and spit into the palm of his hand. the groan coming from him sends waves of heat up your spine and you try to brace yourself for what’s going to follow.

pulling your panties down and bunching up your dress in one hand, the thick head of porco’s dick is already pushing into of you, causing you to hold your breath because you know he isn’t planning on letting you adjust to his size.

and you were right. even with his fingers stretching you out, you’re struggling to fit him but he keeps on pressing into you, leaving you to suck in the air through gritted teeth.

“look at her,” you hear coming from behind, “how hard she tries.”

with your brain in a haze, you know you should wonder about what he’s saying but you don’t. you’re too concentrated on how good he feels inside of you. and how wrong at the same time, but this only makes your pulse quicken even more.

to know the others are in the room next door, having no clue about how you’re being spread open on porco’s dick, having no idea that you’re nothing but a cheating whore, has walls fluttering around his length.

and when he finally bottoms out, he starts pulling back out. at a mind numbingly slow pace, you feel him come to a halt before he leaves you feeling empty again.

“don’t stop,” being the only thing to leave your lips, “porco, i dare-“

“hear her begging?” he places his hand on your hip and pulls you back onto his dick, “i bet she never begs like this when you’re the one fucking her.”

driving his hips forward again, he hits the bundle of nerves inside of you that makes you forget about how you wanted to be quiet. the moan escaping your lips as he switches to a steady pace.

“oh, she sounds so sweet,” his laugh is breathless this time, “you never told me how good she sounds, colt.”

as soon as you hear the name of your boyfriend, you look into the mirror to see porco holding his phone in one hand, obviously filming himself thrusting into your cunt. stuttering in your movements, he lifts his gaze from his phone and smirks back at your reflection in the mirror.

“c’mon now, keep fucking yourself on my cock,” he reaches forward, wrapping his free hand around your throat, “be a good girl for me, and i might let you do it again.”

raising the phone, he now films your reflection.

and you know you shouldn’t look straight into the camera and push back onto porco. it’s too late now, you think, too late to go back so you might as well enjoy yourself.

“tell him how good i feel,” his words are coming slurry now.

and with his tight balls slapping against your clit, with him continuously hitting the right spot, you nod, “feels- feels so good.”

“that’s what i thought,” letting go of your throat, he quickened his pace, “little whore that you are- one dick isn’t enough for you, huh?”

his hand sliding down your side, he reaches in front of you to rub circles against your clit again. the sensation of watching him do that, hearing him moan as you clench your walls around his dick and at the thought of all of it being filmed for your boyfriend to watch has you losing your mind.

“you-“ you turn your head to him now, graze your lips against his jaw, “your dick is enough.”

“hear- hear that, colt,” he groans, “my-“

his hips stuttering against your ass, he places the phone on the counter in front of you, grabbing your hips instead.

seeing him losing his cool pushes you over the edge, slapping one hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans as your whole body trembles, heat rushing over you with every thrust he makes.

porco shoves your hand away the moment he realizes you’re trying to stay quiet, “let him hear.”

and you do. you couldn’t care less at this point, so the breathed “you fuck me so good,” flows from your lips naturally.

his fingers dig into your soft skin as he pulls you down onto his dick and holds you there, pumping his hot load into you, his cock twitching inside of you as a low “fuuuck-“ leaves him.

you stay like this for only a few seconds, and then he reaches back for his phone, turning the camera to face him. he makes a peace-sign before bringing it back between the two of you, filming how he pulls out of your cunt.

“will you look at that,” he spreads your cheeks to allow a better view.

feeling his and your cum drip down your thighs, you shudder at the thought of what you’ve just done – and even more when you realize how badly you want to do it again.

taglist: @odmlevis, @inumakizone, @blondeboyfriend, @peachysimp, @droolingoverfanfics, @starrynightlys wanna be tagged in my next work? fill out this form.

[captnjacksparrow]

Although I don't agree in some parts, I enjoyed your post about Sasuke's PTSD that are based from your discussion with your friend @melody-of-lost-souls who studied Psychology. I wonder, what about other characters? Do you guys discuss about mental health for character slike Tsunade who clearly has PTSD that resulted in her phobia of blood (I don't like how it was treated in canon, it's too easily cured and brushed aside), or Kakashi who get his own PTSD arc (I know that it's filler, but you once said that those filler block has no single OOC scene so it's possible that those things are happened in canon). His stans often excuse his inability to teach Team 7 properly because of his trauma, do you and your friend think the same?

Regarding this Post

LOL. We were specifically talking about Sasuke's PTSD alone because he was the most UwUwU trauma baby here in Tumblr. And I never believed those claims even when I was a newcomer to this fandom and I just wanted to verify If I am right and as it happens my friend confirmed it with Symptoms and all that. Because just like you said, Tsunade had her PTSD and it was clearly shown for 2 or 3 chapters and how it impacted her Character journey. But Sasuke was never drawn to show such symptoms....

My Whole point was, I am not discrediting the fact that Sasuke never had any PTSD... It's just that he got over it pretty quickly just like many other characters. Using PTSD/Trauma as the reason to excuse his wrong-doings or justify a Ship moment.... JUST DOESN'T CUT IT.

As for Kakashi's PTSD....

I agree that Filler Arc has no OOC and it gels up with Canon in many different ways. But it's still not canon... So, Kakashi having PTSD in canon is just like what I've written for Sasuke as well... He might have suffered from those Trauma but got over it by the beginning of Chapter 1.

His stans often excuse his inability to teach Team 7 properly because of his trauma...

A General Thumb of Rule... I follow in any fandom is... Anyone who is using Age Card, Gender Card, Culture Card and Trauma card to excuse a 'Said' Characters' shitty behaviour is just a Blind Apologist and a Self-Projector.

I am not saying, no one should pull these cards... But only under the right context. 

For Example, If someone wants to pull this Trauma card... A Right Context should be.... In a World, where a bunch of 15 year old boys were going to school, have fun and playing around... But specifically there is this another 15 year old boy underwent something horrible (insert any traumatic situation here) which renders him incapable of being sociable and hence he does some Crime out of self-defense or Trauma....

So, this means... This is a World where a regular 15 year old boys can have fun in their life except for that one particular boy... He is different because of those bitter experiences that’s not very common. 

If someone cites Trauma in this particular situation, then that’s totally understandable and valid because the Narrative supports it. But in Narutoverse, everyone in their 12-15 age, underwent something bitter in one way or another way. Haku, Nagato, Kabuto, Naruto (????). How is it that when it comes to Sasuke and Kakashi.... it’s always just because of Trauma and PTSD.?? I just don’t get it. I hate to play this Pain/Trauma Olympics, honestly. 

As for Kakashi being a Bad Sensei for Team 7... 

My take is... Even if you make an Adult Sasuke or Naruto to time travel and put them as a Sensei for Team 7 when they were their younger self.... Still, they would end up being the Bad sensei... Because, the Conflict between Naruto and Sasuke can be solved only by those two. That’s all this entire story is all about... Kakashi simply has no place in it. 

He taught the most important lesson for Team 7... That is Team Work. Which is very evident from the way Naruto and Sasuke fought Zabuza/Haku in the Land of the Waves Arc itself. I clearly don’t understand what the fandom wants Kakashi to teach Team 7 further??? 

Kakashi taught Sasuke his predominant Jutsu, Chidori... He would’ve taught many things had Sasuke stayed in the Village... Because Jiraiya asked him to take care of Sasuke because of the Sharingan.

Kakashi helped Naruto to develop Rasen Shuriken, Basics of Kage Bunshins and all that.

Kakashi, though he didn’t teach anything for Sakura... Because she didn’t qualify further in her Chunin Exams... Still he put forth Sakura’s name to Tsunade and that prompted her to take Sakura as her student. 

And I know, people point out how Kakashi ignored Naruto during Chunin Exams. He didn’t teach him because Jiraiya told him to focus on Sasuke and that J will take Naruto under his wings. And as decided, Jiraiya taught N Kuchiyose... Kakashi taught Chidori to S.... So, Case Closed. 

And also, to be honest... Every Sensei in this Story is kind of a Failure. Hiruzen failed to get a good Hold on his Student, Orochimaru... Minato couldn’t identify it was Obito on the day Kyuubi Incident happened, although he couldn’t have done anything about it either... Kakashi... well, you know what happened. 

The only Sensei who looked successful in Narutoverse is Sarutobi Asuma. But Hey, it was all because Shikamaru, Ino and Chouji never acted as an individuals but always as a Team. And also, Ino-Shika-Cho trio was some Family thing. That tradition was followed for many generations and hence Asuma’s life as a Sensei was much more easier. 

So, Is Kakashi a Bad Sensei??? 

Personally, I don’t care. He appeals to me more as an Individual Character than Babysitting this Team full of Gremlins. (Please know that I am an Anti Team 7).

But Does it matters??? Was this story about Kakashi acting as an emotional compass for either Naruto or Sasuke to have an influence on his Students?? 

No.. Right?

But Kakashi himself openly admitted that he was never a Good Sensei... So, I’m just going to partially accept as to how he feels about himself despite he has this tendency to self-deprecates himself many times...

“As the Leader of Team 7, I blame my personal shortcomings for the Team Failing, I apologize.... I’ve been a terrible Sensei to you all...”

The reason, I partially agree with this comment is because of all these following moments....

Kakashi indeed agreed to Naruto’s wishes to chase Sasuke.

He indeed understood where Sai’s loyalty is.... Without Sai spelling it outloud...

When Sakura was marching towards her death, Naruto actually ignored that and went onto Angst over Sasuke and it was Kakashi who bothered to chase Sakura.

He indeed went to look up for Naruto and gave his shoulder for his Student and gave him that much needed Piggy Back Ride.... Which reminds me of this scene from Chunin Exams...

We can’t be discrediting all these scenes and blatantly pin Kakashi as a Piss Poor Sensei...

It’s also a common sense that this is a media where Child Heroes do stuffs which Adult couldn’t... Meaning, ‘Adults are Useless’ trope is much more common in this type of Genre. Naruto changed Zabuza’s heart which Kakashi couldn’t, Naruto found an Answer for Nagato’s question which Minato couldn’t... Naruto and Sasuke broke the Curse which Hashi & Madara couldn’t.... And many more.... Which means Kakashi was bound to be shown as a Failure just like many Adult Characters in this series... 

But Atleast in Narutoverse, Not every Adults were shown to be totally useless like they show in other child medias... The Author has paid very mindful thought about each and every characters with their own Flaws and Positives... And that’s exactly why you have Fans/Stans for even a side character like Kabuto, Deidara who are not known for their Greek God like Handsome appearance... 

I don’t know why Kakashi stans are resorting to Trauma Card to justify him for being a Bad Sensei when in Canon he himself had agreed otherwise... Accepting the fact the Kakashi failed in something as a Sensei is actually a part of his Character... Trying to bury that fact under the Trauma Rug is a huge disservice to his Character.