#also this is in reading order so most recent ones are on the bottom

[worm-priest]

I decided to do something fun for the end of the year and made a chart of all the books I've read in 2023.

Some of the books are polish and don’t have a translation. Also if you’re wondering why the priory of the orange tree is on there twice it’s because in Poland the book was split into two parts ^^

I’ve put my favorites under the cut

☆ A tale for the time being

☆ Bunny

☆ The trial

☆ This is how we lose the time war

☆ Perfume

☆ Fight club

☆ Ring

☆ Hidden Valley Road

☆ The outsiders

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[sapphixxx]

there's a lot of reasons more people aren't into yuri that are troubling to consider, but equally, I genuinely think it cannot be understated how much of it comes down to most yuri being boring as hell. Like truly. I've been reading the front page of Dynasty Scans like it was the newspaper for 15 years I am not exaggerating I can show you the download file data 15 years.

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers was back in 2009?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers is today in 2023?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

Don't get me wrong, Yuri has grown a LOT in that time, to the point that most people today wouldn't even understand a Maria-sama reference if it were dropped in front of them (thank God). It's expanded and evolved to encompass more stories about adult women, wider varieties of scenarios, a greater acknowledgement of real life lesbianism, and is more comfortable showing girls kissing with tongue and having sex.

Yuri Manga is maybe the best is it's ever been, and it's also getting the widest readership it's ever had in the English speaking world. The titles we carry at work are always on back order with long queues, and, when I've asked them, most weebs of all gender or sexualities report keeping up with at least a few Yuri series.

At large though? Most of it is still really boring. That's not a bad thing necessarily. I like it because it goes down easy. For the most part any series you pick is gonna be pretty chill. Even shit from Sal Jiang which is PRETTY EDGY for yuri is a pretty breezy read. More serious ones like How Do We Relationship? cover some pretty real subjects about how intimacy is actually quite difficult even when both of you love each other, but it's not like... Exciting. Yuri isn't where you go to pump your fist or get perched on the edge of your seat.

So when the comparison is made to yaoi, well, I mean, have you READ any yaoi? Even in some of the more restrained titles those boys are likely to be sucking and fucking balls and all within the first volume or two. There's gonna be drama, intrigue, shit is gonna get messy, passions are gonna get heated, clothes are gonna be ripped off, people are gonna get sold to One Direction, it's stuff you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn with you know? Stuff you can message your friend and gush Hey Can You BELIEVE? A lot of it is pretty trashy, but that's the appeal. The generic state of yaoi is torrid and exciting and sexy. Ultimately, as a species many of us like to see pretty people fuck. In yaoi you'll get that. In yuri you won't. Nothing wrong with that, but it is gonna be a major contributing factor to their relative popularity.

It's also worth making the comparison to hetero romance manga, which has undergone a renaissance of it's own in recent years. There's now a whole meta around crafting a handful of mean shitty grouchy dysfunctional bully women and flinging them at the protagonist of the day who, unlike in years past, may actually have a face and personality. Most of these are also very trashy and truly scrape the bottom of the bucket in terms of writing.

AND YET?

I would bet money on the fact that you'll have heard of these women and probably even have a good idea what they're like without ever having touched a page of their manga.

I'm sorry but the straights are whipping donuts around the yuri girls in terms of delivering a wide variety of weird compelling fucked up women. How many yuri leading ladies by comparison can you point to as standout recognizable characters even divorced from their story? There's definitely a few, but not many. I'm not talking quality or depth of writing, I'm talking straight up pure recognizability. There are many beautifully written women in yuri, now more than ever. I can't think of many who'd like, get a figure made or have their face splashed on merch, though.

I don't really have a conclusion here. I love Yuri a lot, but at the end of the day this is just kinda the state of things right now.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Podcasting "Microincentives and Enshittification"

Tomorrow (Oct 25) at 10hPT/18hUK, I'm livestreaming an event called "Seizing the Means of Computation" for the Edinburgh Futures Institute.

This week on my podcast, I read my recent Medium column, "Microincentives and Enshittification," about the way that monopoly drives mediocrity, with Google's declining quality as Exhibit A:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

It's not your imagination: Google used to be better – in every way. Search used to be better, sure, but Google used to be better as a company. It treated its workers better (for example, not laying off 12,000 workers months after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years). It had its users' backs in policy fights – standing up for Net Neutrality and the right to use encryption to keep your private data private. Even when the company made ghastly mistakes, it repented of them and reversed them, like the time it pulled out of China after it learned that Chinese state hackers had broken into Gmail in order to discover which dissidents to round up and imprison.

None of this is to say that Google used to be perfect, or even, most of the time, good. Just that things got worse. To understand why, we have to think about how decisions get made in large organizations, or, more to the point, how arguments get resolved in these organizations.

We give Google a lot of shit for its "Don't Be Evil" motto, but it's worth thinking through what that meant for the organization's outcomes over the years. Through most of Google's history, the tech labor market was incredibly tight, and skilled engineers and other technical people had a lot of choice as to where they worked. "Don't Be Evil" motivated some – many – of those workers to take a job at Google, rather than one of its rivals.

Within Google, that meant that decisions that could colorably be accused of being "evil" would face some internal pushback. Imagine a product design meeting where one faction proposes something that is bad for users, but good for the company's bottom line. Think of another faction that says, "But if we do that, we'll be 'evil.'"

I think it's safe to assume that in any high-stakes version of this argument, the profit side will prevail over the don't be evil side. Money talks and bullshit walks. But what if there were also monetary costs to being evil? Like, what if Google has to worry about users or business customers defecting to a rival? Or what if there's a credible reason to worry that a regulator will fine Google, or Congress will slap around some executives at a televised hearing?

That lets the no-evil side field a more robust counterargument: "Doing that would be evil, and we'll lose money, or face a whopping fine, or suffer reputational harms." Even if these downsides are potentially smaller than the upsides, they still help the no-evil side win the argument. That's doubly true if the downsides could depress the company's share-price, because Googlers themselves are disproportionately likely to hold Google stock, since tech companies are able to get a discount on their wage-bills by paying employees in abundant stock they print for free, rather than the scarce dollars that only come through hard graft.

When the share-price is on the line, the counterargument goes, "That would be evil, we will lose money, and you will personally be much poorer as a result." Again, this isn't dispositive – it won't win every argument – but it is influential. A counterargument that braids together ideology, institutional imperatives, and personal material consequences is pretty robust.

Which is where monopoly comes in. When companies grow to dominate their industries, they are less subject to all forms of discipline. Monopolists don't have to worry about losing disgusted employees, because they exert so much gravity on the labor market that they find it easy to replace them.

They don't have to worry about losing customers, because they have eliminated credible alternatives. They don't have to worry about losing users, because rivals steer clear of their core business out of fear of being bigfooted through exclusive distribution deals, predatory pricing, etc. Investors have a name for the parts of the industry dominated by Big Tech: they call it "the kill zone" and they won't back companies seeking to enter it.

When companies dominate their industries, they find it easier to capture their regulators and outspend public prosecutors who hope to hold them to account. When they lose regulatory fights, they can fund endless appeals. If they lose those appeals, they can still afford the fines, especially if they can use an army of lawyers to make sure that the fine is less than the profit realized through the bad conduct. A fine is a price.

In other words, the more dominant a company is, the harder it is for the good people within the company to win arguments about unethical and harmful proposals, and the worse the company gets. The internal culture of the company changes, and its products and services decline, but meaningful alternatives remain scarce or nonexistent.

Back to Google. Google owns more than 90% of the search market. Google can't grow by adding more Search users. The 10% of non-Google searchers are extremely familiar with Google's actions. To switch to a rival search engine, they have had to take many affirmative, technically complex steps to override the defaults in their devices and tools. It's not like an ad extolling the virtues of Google Search will bring in new customers.

Having saturated the search market, Google can only increase its Search revenues by shifting value from searchers or web publishers to itself – that is, the only path to Search growth is enshittification. They have to make things worse for end users or business customers in order to make things better for themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

This means that each executive in the Search division is forever seeking out ways to shift value to Google and away from searchers and/or publishers. When they propose a enshittificatory tactic, Google's market dominance makes it easy for them to win arguments with their teammates: "this may make you feel ashamed for making our product worse, but it will not make me poorer, it will not make the company poorer, and it won't chase off business customers or end users, therefore, we're gonna do it. Fuck your feelings."

After all, each microenshittification represents only a single Jenga block removed from the gigantic tower that is Google Search. No big deal. Some Google exec made the call to make it easier for merchants to buy space overtop searches for their rivals. That's not necessarily a bad thing: "Thinking of taking a vacation in Florida? Why not try Puerto Rico – it's a US-based Caribbean vacation without the transphobia and racism!"

But this kind of advertising also opens up lots of avenues for fraud. Scammers clone local restaurants' websites, jack up their prices by 15%, take your order, and transmit it to the real restaurant, pocketing the 15%. They get clicks by using some of that rake to buy an ad based on searches for the restaurant's name, so they show up overtop of it and rip off inattentive users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

This is something Google could head off; they already verify local merchants by mailing them postcards with unique passwords that they key into a web-form. They could ban ads for websites that clone existing known merchants, but that would incur costs (engineer time) and reduce profits, both from scammers and from legit websites that trip a false positive.

The decision to sell this kind of ad, configured this way, is a direct shift of value from business customers (restaurants) and end-users (searchers) to Google. Not only that, but it's negative sum. The money Google gets from this tradeoff is less than the cost to both the restaurant (loss of goodwill from regulars who are affronted because of a sudden price rise) and searchers (who lose 15% on their dinner orders). This trade-off makes everyone except Google worse off, and it's only possible when Google is the only game in town.

It's also small potatoes. Last summer, scammers figured out how to switch out the toll-free numbers that Google displayed for every airline, redirecting people to boiler-rooms where con-artists collected their credit-card numbers and sensitive personal information (passports, etc):

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/phone-numbers-airlines-listed-google-directed-scammers-rcna94766

Here again, we see a series of small compromises that lead to a massive harm. Google decided to show users 800 numbers rather than links to the airlines' websites, but failed to fortify the process for assigning phone numbers to prevent this absolutely foreseeable type of fraud. It's not that Google wanted to enable fraud – it's that they created the conditions for the fraud to occur and failed to devote the resources necessary to defend against it.

Each of these compromises indicates a belief among Google decision-makers that the consequences for making their product worse will be outweighed by the value the company will generate by exposing us to harm. One reason for this belief is on display in the DOJ's antitrust case against Google:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/press-release/file/1328941/download

The case accuses Google of spending tens of billions of dollars to buy out the default search position on every platform where an internet user might conceivably perform a search. The company is lighting multiple Twitters worth of dollars on fire to keep you from ever trying another search engine.

Spraying all those dollars around doesn't just keep you from discovering a better search engine – it also prevents investors from funding that search engine in the first place. Why fund a startup in the kill-zone if no one will ever discover that it exists?

https://www.theverge.com/23802382/search-engine-google-neeva-android

Of course, Google doesn't have to grow Search to grow its revenue. Hypothetically, Google could pursue new lines of business and grow that way. This is a tried-and-true strategy for tech giants: Apple figured out how to outsource its manufacturing to the Pacific Rim; Amazon created a cloud service, Microsoft figured out how to transform itself into a cloud business.

Look hard at these success stories and you discover another reason that Google – and other large companies – struggle to grow by moving into adjacent lines of business. In each case – Apple, Microsoft, Amazon – the exec who led the charge into the new line of business became the company's next CEO.

In other words: if you are an exec at a large firm and one of your rivals successfully expands the business into a new line, they become the CEO – and you don't. That ripples out within the whole org-chart: every VP who becomes an SVP, every SVP who becomes an EVP, and every EVP who becomes a president occupies a scarce spot that it worth millions of dollars to the people who lost it.

The one thing that execs reliably collaborate on is knifing their ambitious rivals in the back. They may not agree on much, but they all agree that that guy shouldn't be in charge of this lucrative new line of business.

This "curse of bigness" is why major shifts in big companies are often attended by the return of the founder – think of Gates going back to Microsoft or Brin returning to Google to oversee their AI projects. They are the only execs that other execs can't knife in the back.

This is the real "innovator's dilemma." The internal politics of large companies make Machiavelli look like an optimist.

When your company attains a certain scale, any exec's most important rival isn't the company's competitor – it's other execs at the same company. Their success is your failure, and vice-versa.

This makes the business of removing Jenga blocks from products like Search even more fraught. These quality-degrading, profit-goosing tactics aren't coordinated among the business's princelings. When you're eating your seed-corn, you do so in private. This secrecy means that it's hard for different product-degradation strategists to realize that they are removing safeguards that someone else is relying on, or that they're adding stress to a safety measure that someone else just doubled the load on.

It's not just Google, either. All of tech is undergoing a Great Enshittening, and that's due to how intertwined all these tech companies. Think of how Google shifts value from app makers to itself, with a 30% rake on every dollar spent in an app. Google is half of the mobile duopoly, with the other half owned by Apple. But they're not competitors – they're co-managers of a cartel. The single largest deal that Google or Apple does every year is the bribe Google pays Apple to be the default search for iOS and Safari – $15-20b, every year.

If Apple and Google were mobile competitors, you'd expect them to differentiate their products, but instead, they've converged – both Apple and Google charge sky-high 30% payment processing fees to app makers.

Same goes for Google/Facebook, the adtech duopoly: not only do both companies charge advertisers and publishers sky-high commissions, clawing 51 cents out of every ad dollar, but they also illegally colluded to rig the market and pay themselves more, at advertisers' and publishers' expense:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

It's not just tech, either – every sector from athletic shoes to international sea-freight is concentrated into anti-competitive, value-annihilating cartels and monopolies:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

As our friends on the right are forever reminding us: "incentives matter." When a company runs out of lands to conquer, the incentives all run one direction: downhill, into a pit of enshittification. Google got worse, not because the people in it are worse (or better) than they were before – but because the constraints that discipline the company and contain its worst impulses got weaker as the company got bigger.

Here's the podcast episode:

https://craphound.com/news/2023/10/23/microincentives-and-enshittification/

And here's a direct link to the MP3 (hosting courtesy of the Internet Archive; they'll host your stuff for free, forever):

https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_452/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_452_-_Microincentives_and_Enshittification.mp3

And here's my podcast's RSS feed:

http://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

[astralexpressarchives]

The Renheng Iceberg Explained

Alright so there's this renheng iceberg on twitter that I was recently informed about. I'm wayyy too deep into the lore so I skipped to the bottom and everything there was stuff I was already more than familiar with.

So I figured why not put all this information to some use and make a post explaining the more obscure items on the iceberg and leaving out the self-explanatory ones, doing my best to reference as well as possible.

Blade gazing at Imbibitor Lunae statue

This was a hidden interaction where you could find Blade standing near the statue of Imbibitor Lunae at the scalegorge after revealing Dan Heng's vidyadhara form. He says he is 'mourning for folly' and asks you if Dan Heng is happy. You can watch a video about this here.

Good friends who are bad for each other

This is Kafka's description of what she knows about Blade and Dan Heng's history in her companion quest. This answer is a "truth" in her game of truth and lies.

"Apparently, they used to be good friends... Well, good friends who were bad for each other. Bladie forgot nearly everything, so he doesn't remember well. Together, they did something bad — something terrible. It led to horrific consequences. That's the information I managed to piece together. Bladie refused to tell me the details."

Dan Heng gets nightmares about blade

We see this in-game in the cinematic leading up to the Xianzhou questline. This is also suggested in the Only Silence Remains lightcone description.

Matching Jade Ornaments

Referring to this idea.

There is also a vidyadhara egg that says:

"You edge closer to the pearlescent shell and have a dream in which you are a Pearlkeeper who rides the waves, and travels across the ancient sea with your true love. The time you have spent with your lover is full of happiness, but the time of hatching rebirth is determined by destiny. You secretly put a jade pendant in your mouth so your lover can recognize each other in the next life."

And considering that DH:IL 4 story has him refusing to speak during the entirety of his interrogation, death sentence, and final verdict, it definitely leaves room for imagination.

Bracer Lore

This one encompasses a few of the other ones on the iceberg, too. Really, it's worth reading the entirety of the Passerby of Wandering Clouds relic set lore. Keep in mind all relic sets are in chronological order of head/gloves/body/feet. The bracer also mentions this part about 'That owner also once shared company and drinks with the unnamed, the two of them simply gazing at the moon with no words exchanged.' This has an interesting meaning in CN that tells us this drinking was an engagement ceremony. People thought this must be a typo but, despite many tickets from people, their only response has been that they're unable to comment further. They still haven't changed it as of patch 1.4.

Dan Heng polishes and gaze longingly at Cloud Piercer

A recent addition in patch 1.4 where Pom-pom now says:

"Passenger Dan Heng often carefully maintains and polishes his spear. Although the Express is very safe, it seems that he is not willing to drop his guard. Hmm, Pom-Pom can tell that when he polishes his spear, there isn't just alertness in his eyes, but a glint of longing, too. Don't underestimate me, Pom-Pom had dealt with all kinds of different passengers!"

I'm sure by now everyone knows that cloudpiercer was made by Yingxing (Blade).

You can see screenshots of this interaction in this post.

Mirror Inverted Colours

Apparently, a big part of CN character design focuses around the concept of inverted colour palette designs for ships. Because Blade and Dan Heng share inverted colours, this is considered a good sign for the ship as it indicates they were most likely designed together.

Danmei Coded

Danmei is the CN genre for mlm. It has a lot of stereotypical tropes that are very common in this genre and apply to renheng also. My personal opinion is that renheng is very similar to something written by Meatbun in particular - this is a danmei author who wrote erha, yuwu, and casefile compendium. The associated tropes are:

Lovers to enemies back to lovers angst timeline often including misunderstandings involving tragic betrayal

Black/red character x white/blue/green character

Under the moonlight

Amnesia and/or reincarnation themes

Protag did something that made everybody turn on them + complicated political drama plot

Redemption in death/isolation/retreating from the world at the end

Waiting frankly ridiculous amounts of time to be with the lover again

One character pursuing the other character literally

One character considered dead or demonic in some capacity, the other is ethereal and godly

Mortal x immortal

Afterlife/spirit realm shenanigans usually involving fractured souls as a result of torment

Contrasting personalities + others don't think they should get along/are bad for each other (usually the deviant personality is considered to be corrupting the noble/revered personality in some way which often involves a rebellion)

Mirrored Ultimates

Their ultimate animation sequences are very similar with close eyes with weapon - open eyes - attack.

And both of their ultimates take place in different versions of the same location:

Vidyadharas can't identify items belonging to their past yet Dan Heng got the bracer, jade pendant(?), and cloud piercer

There is an NPC named Lingling in the alchemy commission who is responsible for assisting in vidyadhara hatching rebirth. She collects the personal belongings of vidyadhara who claim that they want to keep the items for their next life. She says that:

From what I've seen, most Vidyadhara lack emotions fresh after their rebirth, and are unable to understand the sentiments of their previous selves. Not a single one has ever been able to identify which one of these items used to belong to them.

This is a big indicator that DH = DF and that their romance will be continuing in this life, too. We know from Passerby of Wandering Clouds relic set that Dan Heng is still in possession of the bracer because of the line: "His fingertips could still faintly feel the temperature from the other."

The stars always accompany the moon

This is a reference to their names in CN where the Xing in Yingxing means moon and the Yue in Yinyue jun (Imbibitor Lunae) means Moon. Their ship name Xingyue means Star and Moon, which is often why you will see them referred to with the Star/Moon emojis as well as the sword/leaf emoji.

Blade came to see Dan Heng blushing when Xiyan asked him to act the character in his story

This is referring to this video on weibo where Dan Heng is talking to Xiyan. You can see the characters in the crowd then Dan Heng starts blushing. The next time you see the crowd, Blade has arrived third from the right.

"Eternal Regrets of a High Elder" and "Dreams from a Past Life"

These are arias from the Cloudcry Songbook written by a Vidyadhara named Lingjie who reincarnated into Chunfen. Lingjie was an opera singer and apparently a big fan of Dan Feng and his romantic life.

My friend wrote the poem analysis of both of these arias. I would strongly recommend reading her translations.

TW: These translations do include mentions of a new leaked poem. Some of the content is NSFW.

Dan Heng named himself "Dan Heng" due to the "Dan" character carved by Yingxing/Blade

We know that Vidyadhara do not usually name themselves based on their past lives as they have no attachment to them. The other iteration of Dan Heng was named Yubie for example. Dan Heng's name in CN is  丹恒. The Dan 丹 means red/pellet/powder/cinnabar. You can see Dan is inscribed on his spear that Yingxing made for him, thus the logical conclusion is that Dan Heng saw the inscription and chose it as his name.

The Star of the East (Jupiter, Wood Star)'s god is Ying Xing, and their guardian beast is Azure Dragon/Canglong/Qinglong

This one is the only one I didn't understand when I first saw it, so I had to request the help of my CN knowing friends to figure it out.

Yingxing's name is 应星 (where the 星 means star).

The CN god of Jupiter Taisui Xingjun 太岁星君 is known as Yin Jiao 殷交

Jupiter is the planet associated with the Chinese wood element, known as the wood star

Azure Dragon is known as Canglong or Qinglong in CN. This is the guardian of Jupiter (the wood star).

Blade's fansong equates Yingxing with 听星 (judging star) which is an alias for Taisui Xingjun

You can read my friend's explanation of the relevant line in the fansong below.

Dan Feng's crime was inspired by Chang'E, the moon goddess for stealing an elixir of immortality and Yingxing was inspired by Hou Yi, a mortal and husband of Chang'E (he was given immortality but didn't, this parallels and contrasts Yingxing's immortality)

So there's actually a bit more to this. I'm going to just use my friend's explanation here:

According to Shang dynasty’s Guicang, It is said that there is a moon maiden who escaped to the moon after stealing an immortality pill. This story was eventually given more details: The moon maiden became known as Heng’e 姮娥, who was the wife of Hou Yi - the hero who shot down the 9 suns. Hou Yi was given an immortality pill/herb as a reward, but Heng’e stole it and flew to the moon. In some versions, upon finding out, Hou Yi tried to shot down her to prevent her from floating to the moon, but he hesitated and ended up choosing not to in the end because he still loved her. In the moon, Heng’e stayed in a palace called 廣寒宮 (the Vast Palace of Coldness) and cursed to be separated from her husband, alone with only the moon rabbits and the immortal osmanthus tree forever. Later on, her name was changed to Chang’e 嫦娥 because Emperor Wen of Han’s name was 劉恆 Liu Heng, and so the 姮 Heng part of her name became a taboo. The interesting here is that 姮 (Heng’e), 恆 (Liu Heng), 恒 (Dan Heng) are all alternative ways to write the same character, 姮, which originally means moon, Heng’e. In addition, we also have a lot of official artworks depicting Dan Heng with the moon and osmanthus flowers:

Yeah so I think that just about covers everything. I left out the ones that were self-explanatory but if anyone is still confused about any of them I can try to elaborate further in the replies.

[riririnnnn]

If we were to see the recent chapters of Blue Lock, then you can kind of sense that the storyline is getting Kunigami-focused which means that we are getting near the moment where the Wildcard backstory is going to be revealed. It makes the most sense to reveal it now, during NEL, especially when the Hero is battling his main villain, Shidou Ryusei.

I don't know about you, but for me, it'll feel out of place if the Wildcard backstory were to be revealed other than what is currently going on—it's is the perfect time!

That's why, I was thinking about it and went back to one of my theories that I had posted a while ago, and I realised something:

After the second selection had ended, Ego said this:

And before the second selection had started, Ego said this:

And to complete his sentence, we have this panel:

It's tough to say who is who but the top most silhouette low-key looks like Noa and the bottom most looks like Snuffy. The flags in descending order: France/Italy, Spain, Brazil, England, I don't know.

In present day, we have: Germany, Spain, England, Italy and France.

The above panel is from chapter 40 and the NEL starts about 150-ish chapter, so with 100+ chapter difference, some changes are bound of happen anyway.

Now!

Here comes the main focus of this post:

If you have read/remember my previous post regarding the Wildcard, then you might also remember that I had said that NEL wasn't planned.

BUT!

If we were to focus on Ego's words, then we can low-key conclude that NEL was supposed to happen, but in a very, very smaller scale compared to what we have right now.

And if we were to accept what I said above as the absolute truth, then it jumbles everything even more, you know.

Ego proposed the U-20 match during the timeline of Second Selection, so it means he had some time to think about the future. Then does it mean that he already visioned that BLLK Vs U-20 was going to be a massive hit? And when that happens, funds were going to pour in like waterfall and since JFU is money hungry, then they'd go in flow of whatever Ego says—did he see all of that?

What I said above doesn't sound much farfetched considering how intelligent Ego actually is.

To think that Ego made up the Wildcard after the U-20 match was scheduled makes more sense if we were to take into account that when the Blue Lock Man (Hologram Goalkeeper) was introduced, Anri complained that the funds are getting low. So, to run another program side by side seems quite tough.

I think Wildcard got more to do with Ego than Kunigami. The whole Wildcard thing feels like Ego's own selfish wish and Kunigami just, unluckily or luckily, happened to be the most suitable player for him.

The above thing makes more sense when we think about this:

If we dwell deeper into his words, then we get a deduction: Placing Kunigami in Bastard München was Ego's own choice not the former's. It seems like an indirect jab to Noa that, "Look! I created this dark horse, he is borne out of my ideal. I did it with my ideals, and he'll crush you."

You getting me?

Wildcard feels more like Ego's personal experiment rather than just a second chance to players who lost.

.

.

.

Old men angst Yaoi, LMAO.

[artbyblastweave]

worm sounds fascinating, how do I get started reading it? would you recommend starting from the beginning?

(Here we go)

So, first off, the specific questions you asked indicate that I should probably clarify the following: Worm is a single self-contained novel by Canadian author John McCrae (Pen name Wildbow). The book was written and published online for free on Wordpress, at a rate of two-to-three chapters a week, over the course of two years between 2011 and 2013. It's useful to conceive of it as a book written under the same paradigm as a particularly-faithfully-attended-to webcomic, except (and very unusually for a superhero thing) it's entirely prose with no visual elements. All of this is a longwinded way of answering your second question; yes, you should absolutely read it from the beginning, and the beginning is here. The entire book is available online, for free.

(In case that you haven't been able to pull together a broad sense of what the book is about just from perusing my Tumblr, I wrote a broad pitch for the setting at large and the story of Worm specifically here. The gist is that it’s a reconstructive superhero setting where superpowers are ironically tied into the user’s moment of greatest rock-bottom trauma, which is a major explanatory factor in why there are so many unstable kooks in costumes taking out their frustrations on the world; Worm proper follows the upwards-and-downwards trajectory of one Taylor Hebert, a teenaged insect-controller and would-be superhero with the secondary superpower of being able to rationalize nearly anything she does as being in the service of some greater good.)

Worm is divided into 31 arcs; each arc is comprised of 6-to-10 chapters, told in first person from Taylor’s perspective, followed by an interlude chapter told in third-person from the perspective of a member of the supporting cast. This structure is partly a holdover from early in Worm’s development, when the book was conceived as an ensemble piece that would rotate perspectives between different cape teams; as the book picked up steam, it also became a monetization vector, as Wildbow would write additional interludes if his donors hit certain milestones. This is important to note because one failure mode I’ve seen for reading Worm is that people will assume they can safely skip something called a “donation interlude” without missing anything important. You can’t. From a thematic perspective, the interludes are a major method by which the narrative keeps the protagonist honest, as they provide a sane or at least differently-insane perspective on the situation at hand, or on whatever over-the-top bullshit Taylor has pulled recently. From a craft perspective, the interludes are some of the best and most memorable writing in the book, at least in part due to the novelty of each character’s perspective.  From a story perspective, Wildbow was very diligent about making sure that most or all of the interludes introduced information or set up future events in a way that, if worst came to worst, he could incorporate into a regular chapter if the goal wasn’t met. But he did meet those donation milestones, meaning a lot of the book isn’t gonna make sense if you don’t read the interludes. Read the interludes.

You may have caught on to that “31 arcs with 5-10 chapters an arc” factoid and done some quick napkin math. Worm is long. Very Very Long. To my knowledge, Wildbow didn’t miss an update once, and 10,000 words every three days is considered a middle-of-the-road output for him. The effect of his truly insane production rate is twofold. First, the quality of Worm’s prose increases exponentially over the course of the book, going from workmanlike to amazing as a result of the sheer volume of practice he was getting. The second effect is that it’s 1.7 million words long. There’s a piece of apocrypha about how a mail-order copy of Stephen King’s It fell through a mailslot and pulverized the recipients chihuahua. Top researchers hypothesize that a printed edition of Worm could plausibly achieve similar results with a mastiff. This is mitigated by the pageless online format that lets you consume vast quantities of text without noticing the volume of what you’ve read; kinda similar to the infinite canvas trick that make some webcomics unprintable, or the infinite scroll UI trick if it were used for good instead of evil. But the gist is that Worm is very Long, and it’s also essentially a rough draft. Your enjoyment therefore might be contingent on your willingness to extend it a mulligan based on the absurd circumstances under which it was produced.

The very first chapter of Worm has the following disclaimer; Brief note from the author:  This story isn’t intended for young or sensitive readers.  Readers who are on the lookout for trigger warnings are advised to give Worm a pass. Some people interpret this as glib or dismissive on the part of the author; I think what’s closer to true is that he was just saving time, because the alternative would be most of the first chapter just being a ten-thousand-word long list of specifics. I can’t think of a single common trigger warning that isn’t applicable to Worm. Name a fucked-up thing, and it’s in there somewhere. Special mentions going to Bug Stuff (duh), dismemberment, torture, child abuse, incest, implied (and some offscreen) sexual assault, Nazis, animal death, and horrifically fleshed-out descriptions of bullying and institutional apathy, which are heavily influenced by the author’s own experience as a disabled student in public school. Reader Beware.

And, on a related note, the book was pretty clearly trying to be progressive.... by 2011 standards, which means you’re gonna be sucking air in through your teeth at points vis a vis representational issues, if that’s a big sticking point. It would be disingenuous for me to frame this as something that meaningfully detracted from my own reading experience, but it would be equally disingenuous to act like it doesn’t bother anyone deeply, and for valid reasons. To hone in on the queer rep angle specifically, picture the discourse if Ianthe was the only canon-lesbian character with any focus in TLT and you’re getting close to the situation on that front.

Wildbow (AKA Writers Georg, who should not have been counted) continued to maintain the two-chapter-a-week production rate to this day. His other works include: 

Pact (2014-2015) and Pale (2020-present) which are Urban fantasy works set in a universe colloquially known as the Otherverse, a setting in which essentially all magic is fueled by bullshitting the universe so hard that your chosen magical tradition is incorporated into reality as Something That Is Allowed; a major downstream result of this is that the sheer weight of precedent means that no magical practitioner is allowed to explicitly lie, on pain of the universe revoking their magical ability if they’re called out on it. Pact follows the misadventures of Blake Thorburn, a jaded 20-something who gets a target painted on his back after his grandmother- a widely feared diabolist- kicks the bucket and wills him her potentially apocalyptic cache of demonic texts as part of a complicated post-mortem gambit. Pale is a murder mystery/coming of age story. Set in Kennet, a small Canadian town with a subculture of unorthodox magical creatures who’ve managed to avoid being subordinated by more powerful human practitioners, the story follows a trio of pre-teen witches who’re hurriedly brought into the magical fold and tasked with trying to solve the murder of an extremely powerful magical being whose residence in the area was a major warding factor against magicians moving in and trying to bind the locals. 

Twig (2017-2018), a biopunk alternate-history coming-of-age novel set in a universe where, instead of writing Frankenstein, Mary Shelley actually figured out how to reanimate the dead; this kicked off a necroengineering/bioengineering revolution that leads to Britain conquering much of the world by the 1920s, lording over their holdings with everything from Kaiju to designer plagues, with a Royal Family that’s been modified into undying, post-human atrocities who treat their subjects as playthings as best. The protagonists are The Lambs, a group of heavily augmented child-soldiers used by The Crown’s science division as an investigation and infiltration unit; picture here The Hardy Boys or Scooby Doo if every case they were sent out on was in service of Ingsoc.  Alternatively, think of Scott Westerfeld’s Leviathan trilogy with the same aesthetic sensibilities, but paired with the balls to portray British Imperialism as backed by genetic engineering as something apocalyptically horrifying rather than as forbidden-love fuel.

Ward (2018-2020) is the sequel to Worm, set in the parahumans universe two years after the end of the first book. Basically impossible to describe in any additional detail without massive spoilers; suffice to say that it was contentious. I liked it personally, and I maintain that it’s main error was not having the same ten years of Pre-writing that Worm got. Other works in the same universe as Worm include PHO Sundays, which were RP threads that Wildbow ran weekly on the official subreddit in which he would post a fictitious forum thread from within the setting’s cape enthusiast forums, PRT Quest, which was a semi-canon Play-by-Vote quest on the Spacebattles Forums, and Weaverdice, which is an ongoing WIP TTRPG for the parahumans universe that he works on in his spare time, and for which he’s written a lot of fleshed out faction documents and character profiles.

There’s probably some level of broad fandom analysis it’d be useful to impart here; one interesting bit of fandom lore is that, by virtue of being a superhero setting that made some effort to be internally coherent, the series received a big bump from the Rationalist community, who you may or may not have run into on here. The series was also a big hit with battle boarders, who-would-winners, and that whole corner of nerddom, since the power system is so well-defined and well-articulated; a consequence of this is that a major Worm fandom Locus is the wargaming-site spacebattles, which was hit with such an ongoing deluge of Worm Fanfiction that they have a designated Worm section on the creative writing board, something no other fandom necessitated. Both of those things have affected the shape of the fandom and the fanfiction scene in ways that I don’t feel qualified to comment extensively on this late in the evening, but it’s a fascinating little abyss to have a staring contest with. At any rate, I’d genuinely would recommend the subreddit for the OC threads, worldbuilding idea threads, and stuff of that nature, the Cauldron discord if you’re into fanfiction, and Tumblr if you’re into rambling character analysis. I would recommend none of these things before you’re actually done with the book.

That’s all I’ve got for the moment. Hope you enjoy the book. Or shun the book, if my sundry disclaimers generated a sort of warding effect. I hope you have a contextually appropriate interaction with the book.

[max--phillips]

The File Room

This is the fic I wrote because I started a run of the mill office job a little over a week ago and couldn't help myself. Partly inspired by the fact I did, in fact, spend a good part of my day one day filing contracts away. Enjoy! (oh, also, tagging @miraclesabound as requested!)

Pairing: Max Phillips x afab!reader (otherwise gender neutral, no references to reader's chest)

Warnings: office shenanigans, Max sneaks up on reader and gets punched for it, reader gets eaten out from behind, piv, creampie, a little bit of spit plus something extra (but I'm not gonna ruin the surprise), Max and reader have an ambiguous relationship (ie not explicitly romantic but could be read as such)

Word count: 2k

You had a stack of reports that needed to be filed away. A big stack. And of course, because nothing can be easy, it’s not like they could be all put in the back of the drawer and be considered in order. No, they all had to be put in order in their respective accounts based on which reports they were and what dates they covered and on and on and on… Normally you wouldn’t mind doing this, because you were pretty good at staying on top of putting them away as you got them, a few at a time at most. But unfortunately, one of your coworkers from the sales department was recently… relieved of his position, and he left the big stack of reports behind. Completely unorganized to boot. You were going to be among the filing cabinets and bankers boxes for quite a while.

Honestly, while you were at it, a few of these accounts could stand to get reorganized… Lord knows some of your coworkers barely even tried to put these reports in the right spot… So off you went to the large room filled with shelves and filing cabinets, earbuds already in and playing your favorite music to work to.

A couple hours into your project, the door to the storage room opened. You didn’t hear it, so you were still entirely focused on your current task. You were putting away a stray report, bent over at the waist to get to the back of a filing cabinet drawer. This gave Max Phillips a spectacular view of your ass. And to make it all that much better, you just so happened to be wearing his favorite bottoms on you. He closed his eyes for a moment and brought his fist up against his mouth in a quiet celebration of this treat.

Max was the sales manager in the office, and despite being in a different department, you somehow managed to spend quite a bit of time together. You’d caught on like a wildfire when he started--after you’d managed to see through his extremely irritating caricature-of-a-business-major facade, that is, and made it clear you weren’t going to put up with his bullshit. That was when he asked you out for drinks after work one Friday, let you in on his little supernatural secret, and very thoroughly disproved your assumption that he was not particularly good, and certainly not very generous, in bed.

Max continued to watch you from the door as you worked for a few more moments, quietly locking the door because of course he was going to get a taste of you in here, how could he not? You dropped a small stack of files you had set aside, and cursed as they fluttered onto the floor. You got on your knees to gather them up again, another sight Max would never tire of, before getting back up and resuming your sorting.

Max finally decided to actually make his presence known. Clearly you were in the zone, your earbuds blocking out the rest of the world. He came up behind you, shamelessly taking your ass in both his hands.

You shrieked as you felt hands on your ass, scaring the hell out of you as you hadn’t heard anyone come into the room. You then whirled around, and, without thinking or registering who actually was doing this… punched the perpetrator directly in the face.

Max recoiled, bringing his hands to his face, as you realized what you’d just done. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands, afraid for a moment you’d actually done damage or hurt him.

“Oh my god, Max, don’t do that! Are you okay?” you asked, reaching out a bit as you realized you’d definitely hurt yourself. You looked at the knuckles on your hand that had collided with his face, investigating for any visible injury as you clenched and unclenched your fist.

Max started laughing, standing back upright and taking his hands away from his face. “I’m fine, holy shit, if that was anyone else though, they’d have a very broken nose,” he said, taking your now aching hand in his, and looking at you with what someone might call adoration. “Are you okay?”

You sighed in relief, then took out your earbuds so you could actually participate in a conversation with him. “I think so. Don’t fucking scare me like that again, though.” You firmly poked him in the chest, glaring at him.

Max chuckled a little. “Message received, don’t worry,” he said. “Sorry I scared you. I saw how good your ass looked just a second ago and couldn’t help myself.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks. Do you need something, or did you just come in here to grope me? I have a lot of reports to put away now that your shitty employee is gone,” you said, gesturing towards the still pretty substantial stack of reports. “And I think I’m going to reorganize some other accounts while I’m back here.”

“Actually…” Max started, taking a few steps forward, making you take a few steps back, towards a table between two sets of shelves that was just below hip height. He let go of your hand and turned you around, moving you to bend over. He once again put his hands on your ass, then dragged them to your hips, then the waistband of your bottoms, which he pulled down and out of the way along with your underwear, letting the fabric pool around your ankles. He got down on his knees, pulling your flesh apart where your ass met your thighs, exposing your cunt to him. “I think I’m gonna do a little more than grope you.”

You muffled a moan as he licked through your folds, then prodded at your hole with his tongue. “Max… I really need to get this done…” you said, but only half-heartedly. You’d definitely much rather be doing this than filing reports all day.

Max hummed, the tone questioning your statement as his tongue moved again, his mouth enveloping your clit and sucking gently. It was a teasing motion, and it made you groan in frustration. “You’ll have plenty of time, sweetheart,” he said, mischief thick in his tone.

He licked against your clit again, then switched to sucking on it, and back and forth for a while, driving you crazy. You were getting close, you just needed…

“Max, fuck, please,” you groaned, reaching behind you and grabbing his hair, pushing him further into you. He firmly sucked your clit into his mouth for a long moment, and groaned into your pussy, which did you in. You moaned as you finally tumbled over the edge, only barely muffling the tail end of the sound. Max worked you through it, lapping up your release feverishly, until you were pulling his hair the opposite direction, starting to edge on overstimulated.

He pulled away, his hands going from the back of your thighs to your hips again as he stood up. “Don’t tell me you’re done,” he said. You looked over your shoulder to see his downright devilish grin. His face was wet with your juices--a sight you were quite a fan of, honestly. “Because I’m not done.”

You smiled as you pushed your hips back, connecting with his. Max grunted as his cock, still confined behind his pants and boxers, made contact with your ass, grinding together briefly before he took half a step back to unbuckle his belt and shove his pants out of the way enough to fuck you. You both moaned as he swiped the tip of his cock through your slit, then began pushing into you at a pace you would describe as teasingly slow given how ready you were for him.

“Are you teasing me to keep me away from my job longer, Phillips?” you taunted, though you were unable to stop the groan leaving your throat as his cock rubbed up against something delicious inside you, just like it always does.

“As if you don’t love this,” he said, snapping his hips forward the rest of the way, ripping another sound from you. You could only imagine the grin on his face at this point, especially knowing there was no arguing with that.

Max began fucking you in earnest, setting a quick pace right away--no matter how much he’d like to, he couldn’t keep you both occupied all day. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to stand up against him, wrapping his other arm around you to rub your already sensitive clit as he did. You moaned out again, clenching down around his cock as he gave you more stimulation, which made him groan in your ear. He could smell your blood rushing in your vessels just millimeters below the skin of your neck right by his lips, but he would save that for when you were over at his place, not in the file room at work. He compromised by merely nibbling on your skin, then sucking a very visible mark to the same spot.

You moaned at all of the sensations he was bombarding you with, once again getting close to a climax, his expert fingers and cock slamming into that sensitive spot giving you no other choice. You should care about the hickey he just gave you, probably, but in this moment, it just added to the intoxicating cocktail he was serving you.

“I can feel you, baby, c’mon, give it to me,” Max mumbled in your ear. “Cum on my cock, I got you.”

You could never say no to that. You gave in immediately to his encouragement, crying out his name as you went over the edge a second time, your walls rhythmically bearing down on Max’s cock as you did. He moaned your name in your ear, hips stuttering as he closely followed you to his own peak, filling you to the brim. He slowed down as you both came back down to earth, dragging his hand from your clit to your hip, just holding you close to him for a moment.

Just as you thought you were out of the woods, Max bent you forward on the table again. You gasped in surprise--what else could he possibly have in store for you? You both made a noise as he pulled out, and you hummed as you felt his cum start to leak down your thigh. You gasped again as you felt Max’s tongue lick up the same path, gathering his own cum in his mouth.

Every time you think you’ve found everything he does that you find irresistibly hot, Max manages to surprise you.

Max stood again, and turned you around to face him finally. He grabbed your face, making you gasp in surprise again. He dug his index finger and thumb into your jaw at the joint firmly, and grunted, clearly trying to get you to open your mouth.

You obeyed immediately, and whimpered as he spit his own cum into your mouth. You swallowed, and he groaned, finally leaning forward to kiss you. You grinned into it, and let it go on for a while before you gently pulled away to pull your bottoms back up from the floor. Max followed suit, tucking his shirt back in as he quickly fixed his clothes.

“So… wanna come over tonight?” he asked, leaning against one of the shelves as you picked up a new stack of reports to put away.

You hummed exaggeratedly in thought. “Oh, I don’t know, Max, every time I do it’s so disappointing,” you responded sarcastically.

“Well, I bet I can make you ‘disappointed’ twice as many times as I just did if you do,” he snarked back.

You laughed quietly. “Alright, now, don’t make any promises you can’t keep,” you warned.

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” Max asked, a very confident smirk on his face.

You honestly thought about it for a second. “No, I suppose you haven’t,” you admitted. “But we both need to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Max grinned, that genuine grin that made you melt a little bit every time you saw it. He kissed you again, a deep, lingering thing that was full of affection. “I’ll see you tonight.”

[lc-holy]

Hi! So, I really love the way you draw comics (that strike-back comic sheet of felix' looking at the srntimonsters is incredible). Do you have any... Tips for making them? Like, how do you think where each "square" will be placed, how to fit things in one page etc etc... How exactly did you learn to make comics like this (including all aspects)? Do you mind sharing?

Thank you !

Actually, I don't know if my comics are correct, if the composition is good etc... I went to art school but it had nothing to do with illustrations and comics (I was mostly doing logos, advertising posters etc...).

I posted my first comics on Deviantart, I was drawing Super Mario comics and it wasn't great. I was contacted by someone who took comic book classes and she made me a PDF with lots of tips and told me how to improve my comic book pages. And it was very helpful.

I can share with you some tips she gave me. Here are some tips given to me by "lepouvoirduflan" on deviantart :

-Read a lot of comics, even comics you don't like. It will allow you to discover a lot of different styles.

I have been drawing comics since I was a child. At the beginning, I was inspired by Asterix and Tintin comics.

More recently, a comic book that I really liked: "Be prepared" by Vera Brosgol. There is also "Lettres Perdues" by Jim Bishop. I wasn't a fan of the story but the drawing style and use of colors is incredible.

"Les sœurs Grémillet" by Gi Gregorio and Barbucci. "Les carnets de Cerise " by Joris Chamblain and Aurélie Neyret. I do not remember the story but the drawings and colors are very nice.

In a less childish style there is "Jerôme K. Jérôme Bloche " by Alain Dodier, Serge Le Tendre and Pierre Makyo.

There are also the W.i.t.c.h. comics that I like a lot in terms of composition.

If you understand French, you can watch this very interesting youtube channel about comics: https://www.youtube.com/@lefilsdebulle/videos

-Tips for comic book page composition:

Except that if you decide to do manga, you have to apply the Z rule. You must be able to read the panels from left to right and from top to bottom

Other examples with comic book pages:

-Speech Bubbles:

I think speech bubbles are one of the most complicated things to incorporate into a comic page.

The reading must be fluid and there is an order to respect when several characters speak in the same panel.

Speech bubbles are also subject to the Z rule.

The speech bubbles must revolve around the characters.

Speech bubbles are of course subject to exceptions

They may be misaligned or not follow the Z rule, usually when the character is in a confused, scared, dreamy situation. But even if they are oddly placed, the speech bubbles are placed in a logical way.

-There is not only one way to compose a comic page, there are many! That's why you have to make several sketches.

When I make a comic page, I write the dialogue and describe the action that takes place there. Then I make square panels and very rough drawings.

Then I work on the composition of the page and how I will place the panels.

Then I did something cleaner. I changed the place of the first two panels (the comic is not finished yet, things can still change). I left room for the text but I still need to draw the speech bubbles.

I hope this helped you!

[lovebvni]

a dream i had + how it pertains to shifting

so, as you guys know i am a dream interpreter, but i am also a reality shifter. a dream i recently had really reminded me of shifting and parts of it have stuck with me for a little while now. i had this dream on the 19th of december in pretty sure, and it is currently the 22nd and i still remember it. this isn’t normal for me. so i will explain the parts that feel the most important then get into the message.

sorry this is kinda long!

the part of the dream was this:

two litte girls, one black and one white, said they were going to run away to their and get married. they showed us a dress and i said something like “your father and i made that dress!” (i am not married in my cr btw AND THE GIRLS R NOT RELATED HELP ME) this dress it had strawberries on it and it was pink and white with ruffles around the trim and sleeves. both strawberries and pink and white are signs from my soulmate. pink is his favorite colour and the main sign i get from him is strawberries! when typing this yesterday, i got this sign n i was like aww!

anyways, i decided i was gonna help them, even after the trouble they cause me before (they like kept breaking into my house n shit. they were little ghosts at this point) but, in order to help them, i had to open a “portal”. it was a green bush over the side of a brick building. it was circular with blue flowers. they looked like lillie’s of the valley but turned upward. they were light blue. i’m pretty sure they were canterbury bell or blue coral bell flowers. it was very interesting. the flower on the bottom right had water in it. earlier i had visited it this exact place and tried to pour the water from that flower into my white candle (which was either made OF my mother or given to me by her. i hope it’s the second option) this didn’t work earlier, and i had the candle again. i leaned down again in front of this flower and pulled out the candle. i started pouring the wax from it into the flower. i’m pretty sure it started to glow, but then i woke up.

i have no idea what happened in this dream afterwards, but i feel in my heart that i was able to get these girls home and then i went through for something. idk LMAO

anyways that was the serious part, what the meaning could be for my shifting journey.

very obviously, it’s saying reverse how i do this. instead of trying to take from the “fountain of life” aka shifting, try to give. give part of myself. make it more fun. have less of a strategy and do more what feels right, you know?

i feel like this can be applied to day to day life. don’t take someone’s energy, be willing to give some… even if it’s sacred to you. be willing to share and do more for others like i did for these girls.

btw i had a similar dream last night where i saved two cats n a plant (yeah a plant) from my fathers residence because they were all like dying, malnourished n stuff like that. i did eventually n they were all safe. it made me very happy.

helping others is a reoccurring theme now, and i feel like that’s going to be the chapter i’m stepping into now :)

im very excited for this new journey coming to me. one where i can rest and guide, fulfill my souls purpose and also have some fun !!!

i love u!! thank u for reading :)

[detectivebambam]

For the choosing violence thing.

I curious about your thoughts on 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 16,17,18,19,20,21,22,23,24, and 25

(Your thoughts make my day tbh)

lol i gotchu pinky

the character everyone gets wrong: Dan. she's not a badass. i mean she is, but she's not. she's a scared little girl who had to raise herself and has no idea what she's doing at any given time and i love her for it

why andrew would never top or bottom: actually he does both, and tends to enjoy it. kind of an agressive top but Neil likes it, and sometimes likes to follow orders when he bottoms 🫣 i think they do anything and everything with each other. Neil could be dominant or submissive at any given time, which gives Andrew space to learn about what he actually enjoys. He finds that as long as it involves Neil, he doesn't mind

worst tumblr take I've seen: that Andrew was a misogynist because he doesn't like being manipulated, and "manipulation is a woman's weapon" like how is THAT not misogynistic be so real

why did you block that annoying person?: kept saying that Kevin abused Riko as much as Riko abused Kevin. don't know how far they had to reach into the depths of their asshole to find that one, i just hope they didn't get stuck

i don't have discord

which ship fans are the most annoying: y'all are going to absolutely murder me for this but kevaaron. 1) where did it come from? 2) what's wrong with Katie?? 3) no hate ship what u want but also, i can ship what i want? and it's fine it's literally fine

what character did you start to hate because of fanon: i hate to say it but Thea. i adored her when I read the books originally, but after 4 years of exclusively fanon content i didn't like her. but i did a reread recently and adore her again so it's all good

common fandom opinion everyone is wrong about: Andrew being a sex god. Neil is his first consensual sexual partner. like yeah he knows how to suck dick like a dying man, which he learned in juvie (when he was 13-16?) but in terms of sex? he doesn't know what he's doing and he's probably really scared and nervous

worst part of canon: kevin and thea turning their daughter into a mini Raven 😔

worst part of fanon: Renee erasure 😔😔

fandom related words you've filtered: as of currently? anything tsc related because I don't have access to it yet and people aren't tagging properly. but I also have Rinee (rixo x renee) blocked because,,, what do you actually mean

unpopular character you like and why people should like them: Aaron. yeah he's an asshole and a little homophobic but he was raised that way and he's getting better

worst blorboification: if this means what i think it means, fucking riko. like wdym "he serves cunt" he needs to serve time

answered prev

answered prev

you can't understand why this is popular: kevaaron, any riko ship, riko himself, ichirou x neil, andreil breaking up in fics ?

there should be more of this: fic: oral fixation. sexual or non sexual idc but let's Freud these bitches. fanart: ANDREW WITH LONG HAIR PLS PLS PLS

it's criminal that y'all have been sleeping on: STUART HATFORD. LITERALLY NEXT TO WYMACK ON THE FATHER FIGURE SCALE. I LOVE HIM

you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like: i don't feel guilt I'm Presbyterian

part of canon you found boring: anytime they were in class like wdym

part of canon you think is overhyped: this one is going to get me in trouble so i wanna start off by saying that yes, Riko was a victim of abuse. I'm not disputing that at all. but the part where he got beat by Tetsuji and "was more blood and bruise than skin", while being horrible, was also because of Kevin leaving due to Riko breaking his hand. Tetsuji lost one of his biggest investments because of Riko's petty ego

fav part of canon that everyone ignores: Stuart Hatford man

ship you've unwillingly come around to: Kandreil lol. i didn't like it at first but idk the more fanfic i see I'm like yeah that could be cute

topic that brings up the most rancid discourse: picture this, if you will: Nora Sakavic says something about her own damn characters. yeah that's all

common fandom complaint you're sick of hearing: "it's poorly written" it's not. if you can get over the first chapter of The Raven King, the rest is actually written very well and it's so so beautiful and depicts traumatized characters in a way I haven't seen before that is very refreshing

ty for the ask pinky ily

[twig-tea]

A moment of reflection on [Only Friends] discourse

I've been writing a lot on other people's only friends posts so I thought I should step back and write my own; and then of course I wrote meta about meta rather than about the show itself lol The thing I have been thinking about most today is disentangling:

What makes sense for a character because of their characterization & plot (the right choice for characterization)

What we want a character to do because it would be better for them and we want good things for them (the right choice for the character's best interests)

What the morally best choice would be for that character to make within the confines of the story (the right choice from a moral standpoint)

What we want a character to do because it would move the plot in the direction we want it to go (the right choice for our personal agenda)

What we think a character should do in order to support the presumed themes or moral of the story (the right choice for the narrative)

What we think someone in real life should do from a moral standpoint (the right choice for reality)

What we think someone would do in real life from a realistic standpoint (the right choice for realism)

And maybe others I haven't thought of. I think some of the conversations I've had over the past couple of days with folks about the OF plot seems like we're disagreeing but we're often on the same page on all of the salient points, just talking about different aspects of the above and coming to different conclusions because of it; and I only realize it when they've pointed it out to me (shoutout to @lurkingshan as one example).

To be totally clear: all of the above conversations are valid and interesting and allow us routes to reflect on and think about ourselves and our world (which is one of the major things media consumption is all about). It's just important to keep in mind which of the above we're talking about at any one time. It's when they get conflated--someone thinking that me wanting a character to do x means I think it's the morally right thing for that character to do in reality, when actually it's the opposite and I'm interested in the mess for plot purposes, for example--where stuff can get dicey. e.g.: Sand and Nick should totally make out for sad boy hours, but not to benefit their characters or for moral reasons or the narrative, that one's all for me and my enjoyment of the drama.

A less crack-y example from a recent exchange: Sand should stop letting Ray walk all over him. I want this for him for his character, and I think it would be the right thing for him to do both in the show and if this were reality. As characterization goes, I suspect we'll need to see growth or rock bottom or a catalyst for change before I would expect that to happen; narratively, I also would expect something to have to change to show that character arc. Also, if he were a real person, I would not expect him to be able to just stop this behaviour. All of these statements are true, at least to me and my assessment of Sand's situation.

Anyway I've just been reflecting on how these nuances make a big difference to how we read what one another are trying to say, and it can also be helpful having in mind which you mean when writing or responding to meta, particularly about a show that is both grounded in reality and very much a drama. I'm going to try to be a bit more purposeful about stating which I mean when I'm talking about this show in particular.

[tomwambsgans]

i'm ngl it's because i recently read fight club, But i'm thinking a lot lately about castration and the true/deepest implications of it irt nero and sporus and tom and greg. obviously we've got tom's line about greg being "castrated on pay" and some pretty solid analysis on that being a matter of tom keeping greg dependent on him, but tbh even with said meta posts...

like, i'm sorry, but it's a weak line. it feels just as strangely on the nose as shiv falling down the stairs, and in fact like a line that exists specifically to match shiv falling. it almost even seems like a last-minute rush to complete Following Up The Nero And Sporus Thing, like they did the first part and managed to get all the way to the last episode before realizing they'd forgotten to do the second thing, so they had to reach for anything they could relate castration to without having to film a new scene. this feels especially evident/likely in the fact that there is NO way greg's salary is actually getting docked to the degree that tom implied. it's markedly disappointing, too, in the way that setting it up with shiv literally falling down stairs had the audience looking forward to how the rest of the overt symbolism would play out. castration on pay was the most mundane and least expected possible conclusion, lol. and not at all on par with the literal fall. like if that is the castration we were actually waiting for the whole time...

it's also all overkill, for that matter, considering that the s3 finale fit "pushed his wife down the stairs and married sporus" thing perfectly fine and a perfect amount of vague. like tom ALREADY betrayed shiv, symbolically "killing" her, and had an ancient-roman-wedding-handshake agreement with greg about his soul. even tom and greg's initial dynamic in the final season often feels like that of a married couple. which begs the question: why have the stuff in s4 on top of that? it may very well be simply one of the many marks of s4's drop in quality, caused by a myriad of irl factors. or it could possibly be on purpose to specifically bring home something else about the nero and sporus story. maybe it's to reinforce the tomshiv divorce and also tom and greg's marriage after all the rapid shifts in dynamic. who knows.

but what i DO know is that i wanna get to the bottom (lol) of the castration symbolism/motif. so i'm gonna go through everything that could possibly inform the audience's interpretation.

i'll start with the least significant, which i believe is the reality of castration in ancient rome and in the circumstances around the irl nero and sporus. part of why this falls on the bottom rung is the fact that historical accounts of nero especially with sporus are hotly contested. another reason is that the story tom tells is one that not only omits many details in a technically misleading/recontextualizing way, but also adds details that are present in no known accounts.

so: WHY was sporus castrated? there are 2 main possibilities/reasons.

to maintain his youthful [and therefore feminine] beauty. the real sporus was most likely around 16 when nero had him castrated. and the practice of castration to preserve youth had precedence. basically, twinks were REALLY in. it's alleged that sporus may have already been more effeminate (and sexually attractive) than average. but it's also said that sporus bore an uncanny resemblance to poppaea, which nero chose him for specifically and wanted to maintain.

in order to marry him with legal/social sanction. ancient roman society, rather than being built upon the heterosexual, was more built upon the Top/generally masculine. Eunuch was a gender class/category essentially equivalent with Woman, which allowed sporus to specifically be nero's wife. this didn't mean that his marriage to sporus was necessarily seen as good and normal, only technically acceptable.

and i have a ways more to go with the analysis but i'm gonna say right here that i do not think the first reason bears any significance to tom and greg. firstly due to that there is no textual evidence that tom wants greg to be explicitly feminine, even compared to himself, and a LOT to the contrary. tom consistently invites greg to join him in performing masculinity and gaining power through it, case in point the "let's fight like chickens" scene that directly follows the nero and sporus story. secondly, sporus's possible resemblance to poppaea does not track to greg and shiv more than incidentally; greg being shiv's cousin doesn't directly earn tom anything. but more importantly, imo, is the fact that what would have made nero want sporus to look like poppaea is in direct contrast with both the story tom tells AND the way their arc plays out.

so NOW, to demonstrate this, let's look at the irl poppaea's death/murder, which happened during her second pregnancy. different historians (even those alive at the time) have different theories for how it went down. who knows how much truth they're based in, bc there's a clear heavy bias against nero, but they're all we have anyway and therefore all tom would have had. here they are:

nero kicked her in the stomach in a fit of rage, while she was fighting with him about how much time he spent at the races (main theory/rumor)

nero kicked her in the stomach in a casual outburst

nero "leapt upon her belly" either accidentally or on purpose

nero poisoned her (uncommon rumor, most likely bs)

she died through no fault of nero's at all, simply bc of complications with her pregnancy (this has the most evidence, and is believed by many modern historians)

you'll notice a complete lack of stairs-related death theories, and in fact a near total lack of Nero Purposefully Murdered Poppaea theories. the general idea is that nero deeply mourned poppaea's death (and was remorseful, if it was his own fault), and proceeded to replace her with sporus, even calling him by her name.

which feels like a good segue into the more significant story of nero and sporus to analyze: the one that TOM told.

Sporus was a young slave boy. He was Nero's favorite. And, uh... you know what Nero did to him? Well, Nero... pushed his wife... down the stairs. And then he had Sporus castrated and he married him instead. And he gave him a ring. And he made him dress up like his dead wife. ...I'd castrate you and marry you in a heartbeat.

without looking into the actual story, this would sound like nero murdering his wife in order to marry sporus. with bringing up sporus first, it even sounds like nero met sporus and started favoring him prior to killing poppaea. which is also overtly analogous to tom and greg's relationship arc.

despite what tom must have read in his book, and what one could very easily imagine him, a Wife Guy, latching onto in that book... tom isn't telling greg about the tragedy of an emperor who accidentally killed his wife and then had to replace her with a young boy. tom literally invents a method of death that there is NO preexisting source for. furthermore he chooses one that does not sound remotely unintentional. at best he keeps in line with themes that suggest a violent miscarriage. but he removes all notions of an accident. he turns it into an unambiguous, purposeful uxorcide.

so, since all notions of trying to keep sporus looking like poppaea are not only unfitting as potential parallels, but also utterly irrelevant to the version of events that tom tells, and since we know tom twists and omits many other details (like what happens just a year into their marriage) anyway... what reasons DOES tom have for bringing up castration in this story? here's the possibilities i can come up with:

to make it sound less overtly romantic through means of the bizarre. classic diversionary tactic. literally without the castration it would sound undeniably like he's just saying "i read about this ancient roman gay marriage. an emperor murdered his wife so that he could marry a boy. i would like to do that with you also :)"

to make it sound less gay, specifically, because of nero's power in the situation. this of course calls back to that second reason for the actual sporus to be castrated. it's not gay if i've made you a eunuch, greg.

to emphasize the cruelty on nero's end. tom often puts himself in the role of a villain, especially irt his behavior with greg. considering also that this whole scene follows tom talking about how he's going to prison (AND that the next time he calls greg sporus it's in the scripts before the diner scene, where he agrees to sacrifice himself and go down for greg), it would make sense for him to buffer this confession with the caveat of what a bad person he is, like express in SOME way how insane his feelings are and how terrible he knows it is that he feels this way about greg. tom is notoriously unable to make normal apologies either, so. it tracks.

i think all of these are true, and i'm sure most would agree. i'm also sure most who've read this far are in full agreement that tom fixated on the story of nero and sporus in particular because it was a gay relationship with just enough ambiguity that he's able to relate to it without panicking. hell, the "he gave him a ring" line alone doesn't even evoke an ancient roman marriage nearly as much as a modern american one. i can't find even any sources that specifically mention a ring from nero to sporus, so i imagine tom invented that as well.

BUT while i'm here i do still want to mention a couple other queer things about nero to drive home that it's not just incidental gayness but overt homosexual desire being portrayed, as well as to emphasize that second reason that the irl nero may have had to castrate sporus:

prior to knowing sporus, nero had a mock-wedding as part of festive role-reversals during saturnalia. in this wedding he took the role of a bride, marrying a different freedman.

this is apocryphal and practically historical fiction, and may also specifically be due to perceived deviancy in nero, but it's old enough (like 13th century) that it's lowkey in the nero "canon" that he had womb envy and was obsessed with being the one to get pregnant

okay so NOW... how does all this translate into the actual events demanded/foreshadowed/symbolized by this story? if pushing shiv down the stairs is the betrayal that keeps her from being able to block the gojo deal (but also shiv is shown to fall down a couple real stairs)... and marrying sporus is making the "deal with the devil" (AND the sticker on the forehead)... then what's the castration? what was the first, less on-the-nose-and-simultaneously-meaningless castration, at least?

my best answer is that it's tom getting greg to drop his brightstar buffalo plans and follow him instead. because if death is just corporate death, then your testicles/manhood is your independence. tom says you're a joke, you can't function on your own, you need me (i need you). he's insecure that greg will leave if he has the option to do so. fair enough.

......and yet i come back to my initial disappointment, because that is barely different than the pay castration. and it's redefining greg's symbolic testes to something that tom gave him in the first place, thus practically retconning the first castration. but if that's it, does shiv's literal fall also replace her kick out of the company? that would sure be stupid! is the point of rehashing the symbolism to be stupid? to have meaningless stuff follow up the more significant events? even if that was the case, wouldn't you at least be doing it to give a visual element to the symbols? if shiv gets actual stairs, WHERE are greg's actual balls? or ANY balls!!!! greg even started wearing grey suits which he hadn't done before (but shiv had), and got a "ring" in his final scene. where's the FUCKING balls, huh?????

(anyway)

occam's razor, i think, may be that the meaninglessness of the castration specifically is the point. tom's insecurity that greg will leave if he has the option to (that greg would never actually want him but only need him), has been present for basically the duration of the show. it's just a character trait, and thus doesn't even work as foreshadowing when that just means "he's gonna keep doing what he's been doing." then, take that second reason--the purely pragmatic, not based in heterosexual-adjacent desire reason--for nero to castrate sporus. aka the only reason that makes sense for the way tom spins the story.

(it's also a motivation that leaves room for not even actually doing it. sporus wasn't going through rapid masculinization or anything. and they only lived another year. you could get away with just claiming that you did it for a while, probably.)

i should say there IS technically a third reason, postulated by modern scholars, for sporus's castration: to intentionally humiliate a potential rival for the throne. imagine if tom had told greg about nero and sporus upon first meeting. obviously things changed very quickly, but if all castration is here is tom keeping greg on a tight leash, then it works. and if the castration is nothing, then greg nearly tanking tom's plan out of naivety can be a nothing version of sporus wanting revenge. and shiv falling down real stairs can, instead of actually intending to set up a meaningful castration, be a red herring in that regard and simply foreshadow her pregnancy.

and that could be it. but... i've got One More Thing. maybe the most significant of all. lightning round:

who or what, in modern day where tom and greg live, actually IS castrated?

animals

specifically dogs

hmmmmmm

and why are DOGS castrated?

to reduce sexual and territorial aggression

reduce other unwanted behaviors

to keep them from breeding

okay. think greg's newfound sexual confidence in s4 and tom's distaste for it. tom's continued anxiety that greg's independence might lead him to leave him. think greg being tom's attack dog and how that nearly backfires at the very end. greg approaching tom at the end like a begging puppy.

think full circle: who's the rescue pup, i'll take care of you, i've got you...

i feel justified in recontextualizing all of this, and i come back to fight club:

Valley of the Dogs. Where even if they don't kill you, if someone loves you enough to take you home, they still castrate you.

[carica-ficus]

Review: "Evil Roots: Killer Tales of the Botanical Gothic"

Authors: Nathaniel Hawthorne, Arthur Conan Doyle, Lucy H. Hooper, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, H. G. Wells, Edmond Nolcini, M. R. James, Ambrose Bierce, Howard R. Garis, William Hope Hodgson, Edith Nesbit, H. C. McNeile, Abraham Meritt, Emma Vane

Editor: Daisy Butcher

Date: 03/01/2023

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

________________________________________________________

I think I ordered this book some time during summer, after I accidentally stumbled upon it on an online bookstore. I love anthologies and I love plants, so this title definitely intrigued me enough to order it. I finally decided to read it around Christmas and finished it during a recent trip, so it's officially my first finished book of the year.

"Evil Roots: Killer Tales of the Botanical Gothic" is an interesting anthology of short horror stories by quite a few well-known authors. From the creator of Sherlock Holmes, to the acclaimed writer of "The Yellow Wallpaper", all the way to the legendary H. G. Wells, this collections features some hidden gems of the late 19th and early 20th century. While the stories are certainly old-school, they could still be regarded as timeless classics and masterful creations.

Most stories revolve around the fascination of the exotic - of unknown plants that are in some way dangerous to humans (or other organisms) and which originate from far away places, like South America. There's mentions of exquisite poisonous flowers, murderous liana, mysterious wisteria, and the weirdest of them all - carnivorous plants.

It is interesting just how much the writers and, by default, the general public were fascinated by exotic flora which, in one way or another, transcended the known laws of nature. Plants were considered sedentary, passive, and at the bottom of the food chain, but as new discoveries were being presented and as more people, professionals and amateurs alike, from the western civilization started their expeditions in new places, society was being introduced with oddities that seemingly didn't follow any established rules. So while the horror in this collection is displayed through various flora, the true horror is derived from the simple fact that humans fear what they cannot understand. One of the most frightening things a person, especially a scientist, can experience is realizing that they will never be able to fully predict nature's capability to adapt and to evolve.

Of course, this theme goes hand in hand with the understanding that it is dangerous altering the natural order of things. While this could also be understood as criticism to the human tendency to play god, there isn't much religious commentary throughout the collection. The stories are centered around ecology, evolution, and biology, highlighting how humans shouldn't meddle with something as powerful as nature - which they will never fully understand, let alone be able to control. Even though the writers do create a feeling of dread through the fear of nature, the horror is actually realized through characters that underestimate its abilities and that have the need to disfigure nature in order to measure their own capabilities.

Furthermore, this collection highlights the uncomfortable fascination western civilization had with other cultures. The urge to study new exotic phenomena on their own accord, to test the limits of human science on something they don't fully understand with little to no regard of the laws of nature and the test subject's true needs, is somewhat perverse. These scientists are conducting experiments in uncontrolled environments, and playing with their test-subjects in order to test their own abilities and knowledge. It is a portrayal of poor research. They're acting out of curiosity with little to no regard of the consequences. It is not their subjects that are evil, for they have been brought up and mistreated in an environment completely unnatural to their habitat, but their tormentor, who butchers them through extreme studies. This is usually evident through a secondary character, most often a colleague, who tries to stop the scientist in their mad experiment before it's too late. The horror is, therefore, found in the abuse executed by the brazen oppressor, not in their vicious, abnormal creations.

The fact that the aforementioned themes barely scratch the surface of all the ideas featured in this collection, prove how layered and compelling all the featured stories are. The editor also did a marvelous job with a lovely foreword and an intriguing introduction to each of the authors and their respective work. Of course, as with every short story collection, not all works are equally strong, but "Evil Roots: Killer Tales of the Botanical Gothic" is still a gorgeous anthology and a noteworthy testament to a relatively overlooked category of horror.

[vidavalor]

I just happened upon your blog (right terminology?) and I’m learning a lot. One thing that startled me was your referring to Crowley and Aziraphale’s love (sex) life as a matter of course, something seemingly everyone but me knew about. I was blown away and really wanted it to be true. After all, they’ve had to do without so much—openness, safety, the expectation of future togetherness. It would too unfair if they had to do without physical consummation too. What’s the deal with this? How do we know it’s so? What’s the history? Please enlighten me. Have you written posts about this? I’d love to read them. Thanks

Hello! Thanks for the ask. Nice to meet you. I call it a blog because I'm old and don't know the cool terms but we can call it whatever lol. I have no idea re: how many people who view the show and are able to see that Crowley & Aziraphale are more than friends (because, believe it or not, that concept still shocks some lol) who think that they're already lovers. I do think I'm sort of in the minority, maybe, even if there are a bunch of people who think that they're already a thing. When scrolling through the Ineffable Husbands tag on here, I tend to see a lot more posts that suggest that they aren't lovers and that 2.06 was their first kiss. (Let's hope that it's not lol.)

I guess I would say that if you are thinking about whether or not they might be, consider that Good Omens shows you most of its story out of chronological order in order to give layered meaning to the stuff you've already seen so, just with that knowledge alone, it would be actually pretty surprising if 2.06 was the first time they'd kissed. In S2 itself, earlier on, there's some heavy suggestion that it's not. If you want to read about when I think that happened, go here and I'll link you one more post at the bottom of this response here:

While I like to read all points of view-- I read a lot of aro ace GO stuff as well, even if I don't necessarily see that in my own interpretations of things-- I have thought they were sleeping together since the first time I watched S1 a few years back and S2 just kinda reinforced that for me. I think that, technically-speaking, there's a path to either they still haven't gotten together or that they're long-time lovers. I say that but honestly... it's more like if they somehow do something that suggests that they're only getting together during/after S3, I think it could kinda work but I honestly don't actually think that's the story they're writing. I'm pretty firmly set on the idea that they've been sleeping together for, uh, a very long time at this point. Someone told me the other day via messages that they would burn my house down if I did not finish a sex meta that I promised people so I best maybe get on that and also potentially call the police lol. (I am both flattered and scared?). So, uh, I'll get that up soon... I wrote a couple of longer metas lately about different eras of their relationship that are replies to recent asks on my blog-- I'd probably recommend the one about what they call each other and coded love confessions in 1941, if you're looking to read about them as a couple that's already a couple (even if they would have an anxiety attack at the word 'couple', as Crowley does in 2.06 lol). Will link it below. I'm very flattered that you and others have asked to read more of what I think and I have gotten asked a lot for more sex-related content so, uh, watch this space, I guess? :)

Make yourself a tea first or plan to come back to it as I'm wordy lol:

[laugtherhyena]

So, what's up with Udon comics Karin?

Recently i got a hold of physical copies of the Sakura ganbaru manga and after reading through the whole thing i decided to organize this character analysis of sorts where I'll be comparing this awful iteration of the character to her versions from the game's canon and the manga where she originated from in order to highlight where the Udon comics completely missed the mark when it came to portraying her.

First off, who is Karin?

She's the sole heir to the Kanzuki Zaibatsu which is one of the biggest and wealthiest business organizations in the Street fighter world. She has an incredibly strict father and has been trained pretty much since birth to become what he considers a worthy heir, being set to live by their motto that's something along the lines of “In all things be victorious”.

Karin is very obviously SF’s version of the ojou girl character trope, she's filthy rich, snobbish, mean and has a condescending attitude from her mannerisms to her laughs. These are traits present in all of her iterations, however, there's one key element about Karin that completely flew over the heads of the udon comic writers;

Karin is not spoiled, she is proud.

At age 15 this girl was on her way to becoming the leader of one of the biggest business conglomerates of the world while also being proficient in several different fighting styles, remaining undefeated for god knows how long. Karin is good at what she does and she knows it, she's proud of her accomplishments and that's exactly why she acts the way she does.

Her attitude was never solely out of her fortune and status, it always came off as being mostly out of her own merit.

Meanwhile, in the Udon comics Karin is portrayed as a huge spoiled brat. They essentially removed every aspect that made her a rounded likable character and amplified all of her worst traits, a complete disservice to a character that in her proper characterization feels almost like a spin on the standard ojou girl archetype.

As research for this post I tried to find the first time she appeared in the story and as far as I'm aware that was on Street fighter issue 8 in a small backup/extra comic. In it, her initial fight with Sakura has already happened and Karin is after her for a rematch, Sakura is running late for school but Karin corners her so they can have their match, she beats her up fairly quickly and then runs off.

While appearing at the most inconvenient times is not out of character for her (Example: in Sakura ganbaru she breaks into Sakura's house at night by smashing her window solely so she could invite her to this fighting event she'll be hosting) one thing that stood out to me is how Karin talks about their previous fight.

She says that she only lost because of a fluke in their previous fight, implying that she would have won otherwise. And this is something that gets shown again and again in her later, major, appearances in the series; Street fighter legends Sakura (top left) and Street fighter Sakura vs Karin (Bottom left + right)

Karin seems to genuinely believe that there's no way she could lose to Sakura, and if she did, then there must have been some kind of casualty during the match that prevented her from whining, foul play involved on Sakura's part or she straight up says that the fight in which she was bested by her doesn't count for whatever reason.

This inability to accept defeat not only paints her as a whiny sore loser, but shows a clear misunderstanding on the writer’s part on the reason why Karin goes after Sakura.

She's not after this rematch because she refuses to accept that Sakura could win or even because she hates this girl, she just wants to prove herself as the better fighter to uphold her family's motto of being the winner at everything. In both the game's canon and in Sakura ganbaru she accepted that she was bested and worked towards growing stronger so that she could defeat Sakura in a rematch.

That's literally it, but for some reason the Udon comic writers seem to think that Karin has some sort of obsessive vendetta against Sakura and just can't stand her. In Street fighter legends Sakura she breaks a tv just because she saw Sakura being praised on it and in the prologue of this short series she's seen destroying several punching bags with Sakura's picture on it and makes one of her employees dress as her for them to fight.

(I'm sure there's a version of these with more dialogue but i couldn't find it in english :[)

This is downright atrocious because Karin NEVER hated Sakura. Her infatuation for her (because you really can't call it an obsession) came from a place of genuine admiration for her skills.

In Sakura ganbaru she orders her butler to give her a full resume about Sakura's life just because she saw her fighting from afar and was impressed by her skills, even calling her a “special commoner” when the butler asks her why she's so set on wanting to fight a girl like her. And in Alpha 3, Karin straight up tells Sakura that she admires her.

Hell, even after winning against Sakura in a match, Karin proclaims her as the better fighter. A level of humility that's almost nonexistent in her Udon comics counterpart.

Because yes, Karin can be nice. We see this first-hand in Alpha 3 where after losing to R.Mika in a fight she tells her hasn't studied enough about pro-wrestling (admitting that she had underestimated her fighting style) and even offers to sponsor Mika's wrestling career.

Later on in Street fighter V she pays Birdie to be her bodyguard and pretty much lets him lay around her mansion doing nothing all day after finding out Shadaloo was after him.

Something similar to these acts of kindness on her part happens in Legends Sakura, where she lets her employee keep the trophy of the hot dog eating competition they were in. But the thing is; they have made Karin such a bitch in these comics that this act, which would be in character for her game counterpart, feels out of character in this because she's just so mean and victory focused all the time.

And speaking of victories, another thing this characterization of her gets wrong is her approach to them. Udon comics Karin will go above and beyond in order to achieve a victory, it doesn't matter if it's unfair for her opponent, all that she cares about is if she scores that win.

In Legends Sakura she challenges Karin to a hot dog eating competition since she wasn't feeling like fighting her physically, Karin cheats in it by shoving the food down her employee’s throat under the table, when Sakura and her friends out her as a cheater she quickly changed the challenge into a fighting match even tho Sakura has eaten like 30 hot dogs by now and is in no condition to fight her.

And in Sakura vs Karin, where the two are competing in a game tournament, Karin buys the company that made the game and adds herself as a character on it. Something Sakura was previously not aware of and as such had no chance of knowing how to play well against the new character.

This is wild to me because it's quite literally the exact opposite of how Karin acts in her other iterations. She strives for a fair fight because otherwise her subsequent victory on it will be meaningless, after all, there's no merit in winning against someone when you've got an unfair advantage over them.

Even when she had the perfect opportunity to give herself an advantage, manga Karin still strived to keep things fair. After her initial loss against Sakura, she organizes a tournament around the district that's essentially a battle royale with several fighters of the region. She made this whole event with the sole purpose of challenging Sakura by the end of it since she expected her to defeat all the other opponents.

As the organizer, she could absolutely have abstained from joining the tournament herself and stand there high and mighty as the final challenge for the whole thing, but not only did she actively participate on the tournament, Karin strived to defeat more people than Sakura because she saw that as a way to redeem herself after losing to her a few days back.

She is so set in winning this tournament that she refused to even stop for a moment and get her injuries treated.

Cheating legitimately feels like something Karin would frown upon so to see her doing it more than once in the Udon comics feels like the pinnacle of character assassination.

Another thing that stood out to me is that even after being outed as a cheater during that hot dog eating competition, that not only had an immense live audience but was also being televised, Karin faces absolutely no repressions for it. Meanwhile in the manga Karin's father makes her undergo a series of trials in which she fights an eagle while balancing on a tightrope over a ravine, a bear in a waterfall, and a lion otherwise he would basically disown her.

All of this because she lost twice, first to Sakura and later to Ken during the tournament.

And speaking of Sakura, they messed up her and Karin's relationship so badly in the Udon comics that it's only when the two of them are adults that they become friends. Meanwhile, in both Alpha 3 and Sakura ganbaru volume 1 they're left on a good note with each other right after their stories wrap up and implied to have become friends in the following entries of the series.

In Street fighter IV this is done via Sakura's win quotes and in volume 2 by Sakura sending Karin a souvenir from her travels.

By the time we see them as adults in Street fighter V we are shown that yes, they are friends! And seemingly have been for quite a while now.

This is honestly kinda sad to me because we learn first hand that Udon comics Karin had no friends growing up and it seems like this lack of positive figures in her life, Sakura specially, stunted her growth as a person since it's also only when she's an adult that she comes to the realization that fighting it's not about winning or losing, but the moment of the battle, and that some defeats are more valuable than victories since it's from our failures that we can learn to grown stronger.

Something that both the manga and game  versions of Karin discovered much sooner, truly showcasing how Udon’s version of her is always 5 steps behind the others.