#and I've made a couple posts

[ihavetoomuchhomeworkforthis]

hey so I wrote this whole like 3 page thing within one class period a year ago back in 9th grade about how super stressed I was and I thought you might want to see so I'm copy-pasting it all here lol

Update: it doesn't fit in the word limit, so I'm putting half of it into the comments if I can XD

Update #2, it took TEN comments to finish it omg this crap is really frickin' long

Journal: Change the World

Directions:

Answer the following prompt in 6-8 complete sentences.

Prompt:

Write about anything you want. Or, if you need a prompt, write about something that is stressing you out right now.

Right now I’m stressed because I have a lot of work to catch up on, Ms. Cady when we all got back, she said something like “if you were on the band trip, your cumulative review #1 which was pages 3-5 is due right now.” and I had barely started it and so that was stressful and now I can’t make it up properly because it’s a review and I don’t remember anything and the point of a review is to review so that you do remember stuff of course, but there’s no time and she already sent us the key to it so it wouldn’t be credible if I turned it in at this point because I could realistically just copy down the answers off of the Key, and not re-learn anything. Also the Cumulative review #2 was due yesterday, which I also hadn’t finished or even really started for similar reasons, and she told us to rip it out of our books and pass it to the front, so I had to do that, and now I can’t use those problems to review because I don’t remember anything anymore and also I don’t have that page from the book, and Cumulative Review number 3 is due Wednesday, so I have plenty of time except that I don’t know where to find the resources to review and remember how to do any of those problems in the first place so I don’t know how I’m going to complete that one. And I also have a test that I have to make up, and I don’t know where that test is and I don’t know what the test is and I don’t know how I’m going to make it up because I don’t have it and I don’t even know if it’s on paper or online or how to do it but somehow I have to figure out what the test is and how to do it and make up that test so that’s also stressing me out. And then in Biology I’ve also fallen behind and Mr. McLauglin is a bit nicer and more understanding than Ms Cady, he said end of the week or Next Monda would be a good time to get stuff in and he even wrote all my missing stuff on a little sticky note and gave it to me and that was really very nice and helpful even though I haven’t actually gotten a chance to look at it yet but on Google Classroom I’ve already gone through and looked at what I’ve missed, and turns out they’ve been covering Reproductive Systems so that’s really an annoying and embarrassing thing to have to make up, but whatever, except that I have about three or I dunno, a lot of worksheets and labs that are in my Bio binder, so I don’t know when I’ll have time to do that since I also have all the math stuff to figure out.

[a-rabbit-obsessed-queer]

Aspec men deserve much more respect and recognition in the aspec community than they receive. They often face a different form of aphobia specific to them ("men are naturally sexual they can't be ace" "all men are unromantic that's not unique") this rhetoric is spouted by many, even members of our own community and I hope for a day where that is no longer the case. As an ace and demiro woman (demigirl but that's beside the point) I want to encourage folks to take the time to give the aspec men in their lives support and to the aspec men reading, you are who you say you are no matter what people say and you deserve the world. I'm sorry for the ways in which toxic masculinity has harmed you. You are a valued member of the aspec community and the queer community as a whole. No ace or aro person is broken and neither are you. I'm sorry if anyone has ever told you otherwise.

[candidateofloyalty]

Haruhi comes out as agender and Tamaki goes "well fine, I will simply have to be the boyfriend and the girlfriend in this relationship." It still takes him several years to realize he's also not cis.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

I've been meaning to make this post for months now but hey, here is. Some of you may remember I made DVDs of OFMD a while ago. I rambled extensively about it here.

Quick refresher or in case you haven't seen them:

They have disc menues that play Gnossienne Number 5 and have individual episode pictures. Also there's sleeves and discs labels!

Why am I telling you this (again)? Well, I happen to have all the files you need to start your own basement pirate DVD manufacturing career on a burner Google Drive. So if you too wanted to have DVDs of our beautiful show on your shelf at home, you could download the files, grab a DVD writer drive and a bunch of empty DVDs and get right to burning them. No particular skill needed because the files are done and ready to go at a click. There's also a bit of a how-to on there that I hope is helpful for those confused. Piracy ho, friends!

[seventh-district]

Midnight Hour

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks.

You awake in the middle of the night to find your lover in tears.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,139

Content Warnings: [crying (obviously)] [non-specific mentions of Astarion's past trauma] [this fic was written by someone who hasn't actually played the game and that might show in the details/the lack thereof]

Blinking your tired eyes open, you squint at the light of the crackling fire in front of you. Closing them again, you let out a soft sigh as you try to guess at the current time. Given that you woke on your own, you’re assuming it’s likely close to, but not quite, time for you to take over tonight’s watch shift.

Your group has fallen into a routine where you pair off into teams of two, and a different team keeps watch each night. Tonight’s turn belongs to you and Astarion, and he’s taken the first half of the shift as usual. You usually, ironically, sleep your best on the nights that he keeps watch, in spite of only getting half the amount of sleep as you do on the nights another team has the job.

You suppose you can credit the fact that, at the end of the day, Astarion is a creature of the night. Something about knowing he has the upper hand when it comes to any unwanted nighttime visitors your group may encounter is… reassuring. To you, as well as to the others in the group, loathe as some of them may be to admit it. That is, once they all felt confident in his promises to not make a surprise midnight snack of them, at least.

Tonight is a bit of an exception, though, and you’re not quite sure what woke you early this time. You typically sleep soundly until he gently coaxes you awake, nails combing through your hair, voice soft and apologetic in your ear. He’s always somewhat reluctant to wake you, but he does so nonetheless, having learned his lesson after the first time he made the executive decision to let you sleep the whole night through. His arguments of “You really looked like you could use the rest.” and “What’s one sleepless night? I can sleep when I’m dead.” didn’t hold much water in the face of the way he dragged ass through the entire next day.

In “the spirit of fairness” and “proving that he can stick to an agreement,” he never tried to take the whole shift by himself again. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how guilty he felt when he heard the disappointment in your tone when you awoke that first morning and discovered he hadn’t stuck to the plan. Definitely.

Laying there in the quiet, you try and fail to pinpoint what feels different about tonight. You don’t hear any strange noises, nothing feels unusual, and blinking your eyes open again you raise your head a bit to look around the fire. The rest of the group are circled around the other sides of the heat source, sleeping soundly. You figure that you’re probably just getting used to this routine by now, and your body simply woke up around your usual shift change time on its own.

Still, that doesn’t explain the vague, unplaceable feeling that something is just… off.

You let out a sigh that turns into a yawn as you stretch and roll away from the fire onto your back. Letting your head roll further to the left, your eyes land on the familiar sight of your lover’s back as he sits in his usual position beside you, diligently watching your six.

He’s taken to placing his bedroll right next to yours, insisting that you lie between the fire and himself. You couldn’t really argue with his point that he can’t feel the cold anyways, so there’s no need for him to be the one next to the fire. Nor could you argue with the benefits of having him as a line of defense between you and whatever lurks beyond the reach of the firelight.

The feeling of security and protection that he provides you with is still relatively foreign to you, and a soft smile blooms on your face at the warm feeling it brings. Your smile then falls a bit as you remember the silent question you ask yourself on the regular, of whether or not you provide him with the same.

You roll the rest of the way to your left, and shuffle further toward him, closing what remains of the small gap he’d placed between the two of you. Lying halfway on your bedroll and halfway on his, you curl your body around his seated form, bringing your right arm up and gently placing a hand on the right side of his waist. He flinches slightly, and if this were earlier on in your relationship, you’d retract your hand. He’s long since informed you though that his reaction to unexpected touch is simply involuntary, and as long as it’s you, you’ve no need to pull away.

You recall the quiet, restrained desperation in his voice when he first explained it to you, all but begging you not to pull away. He can’t control the way his body reacts to touch, given that before you, he couldn’t recall the last time being touched meant anything other than pain. In spite of that though, he wants it. He wants you. That’s obvious in the way that he, without fail, immediately relaxes under your gentle touch once his mind and body process that it’s coming from you. The way he’s come to not only relax, but to lean into it. Lean into you.

You’d never push past his boundaries, never in a million years, but he’s made it quite clear after about a thousand of your quiet requests for consent at every minor touch, that he’s entirely welcoming of your non-sexual physical affections. Getting the man to verbally admit that he actually enjoys cuddling with you, without the truth being concealed beneath a heavy layer of playful banter and practiced, honeyed words didn’t come easy, but he came around to it in his own time.

So, you don’t pull back, instead following through with the motion and slowly snaking your arm around his waist. You press your front against his lower back and curl around to rest your left cheek atop his left thigh. You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t relax into you in the way he usually does, and your head turns to the right a bit, struggling to get a half-decent look at his face as you’re both turned away from the fire light.

He remains tense, still, and unresponsive to your movements, gaze seemingly locked dead ahead of him, staring out into the dark forest.

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks. He’s actively crying, tears dripping from his chin, and now with his head tilted down at you they take a different path, running down to converge and fall from the tip of his nose.

You nearly bolt upright in your shock, quickly unwrapping yourself from him and clambering around on all fours until you’re sat down in front of him, your hands gripping tightly to your upper thighs in worry. His wide-eyed gaze followed your every movement, and even now that you’re sat still in front of him, his eyes still dart around, frantically scanning you, for what, you don’t know.

“What- what’s going on?”

You keep your voice as quiet as you reasonably can in spite of your shock and concern, not eager to wake your companions and have everyone witness… whatever this is.

He doesn’t respond, looking just about as lost as you feel, shaking his head in silence as more tears fall. It’s one hell of a sight, and it suddenly hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

Unsure of what to do and what even caused this, you resist the urge to wrap him in a hug, not wanting to overstep in this unfamiliar territory. Instead, you glance back over your shoulder and once again see and hear nothing of note before trying another question.

“Is there a threat? Did you see something that scared you, honey?”

He takes a long moment to answer, seeming unsure, before eventually settling on another shake of his head. His lack of confidence in his answer isn’t the most reassuring thing at the moment, but given that you aren’t detecting any danger either, you decide to believe that he really didn’t see any threat. At least, not here. Not right now, in the present moment, in front of him. He seems about halfway here and halfway gone, and if your growing suspicions are correct, he’s probably been sat here lost in the dark corners of his mind for a while now, given the state he’s in.

You catch movement to Astarion’s right side and watch as Karlach raises up from her prior position sprawled out face-down on her bedroll, propping herself up with her forearms beneath her. Her expression of concern is too aware and her eyes are too awake for her to have just now woken up, and you quickly gather that she’s probably been awake and laying there long enough to have heard your questions and Astarion’s lack of any verbal response. She doesn’t say anything though, and doesn’t move, just letting the situation unfold and keeping a watchful eye on the darkness behind you.

Relaxing slightly at the knowledge that someone else is awake and helping to keep watch now, your focus shifts back to Astarion, who’s gaze has moved to his lap, tears still falling fast. It’s almost unsettling, the way he cries. There’s no sound, no movement, his breathing is hardly even affected, nothing more than the occasional shaky breath to give away any sign of struggle at all. You don’t have to guess why it’s like this, given what he’s told you about his past. You’re sadly certain that he learned to cry like this ages ago. Silent and still, sat alone in the dark so no one would notice.

You don’t want to think about the sorts of punishments he’s endured as a result of showing such pain and emotion, but your mind pulls from what experiences he’s shared and offers up a few anyways, making you begin to feel sick.

Leaning down and trying to catch his gaze, you ask another question.

“Astarion, are you with me right now?”

He blinks, more tears spill, and his lips finally part as he responds to you with a strained whisper.

“I’m trying to be…”

You smile in spite of your current emotions and the general mood of the situation, doing your best to be something positive, something gentle, something safe for him to focus on.

“There you are…”

You say it to yourself as much as to him, relieved to finally hear his voice, as laced with pain as it sounds. You hold out your hand near where his lie balled into fists in his lap, offering him contact without forcing it on him.

“I want you to keep trying, okay? Do your best to come back into the present with me. You can take my hand, if you’d like?”

He stares down at your offered hand for a long moment before shakily unballing one of his fists. He hesitates, fingers trembling, before reaching out and placing his hand in yours. His skin is even colder than usual and slightly damp to the touch, and you couldn’t be less put off, or give less of a fuck about the messy state of him right now, or ever, if you’re being honest. You just want to help him, however you can.

You curl your warm fingers around his palm, wanting to pull him into a hug so badly but restraining yourself, letting him call the shots.

“You’re okay now, Star. You’re safe right now, here with me. We’re safe.”

He’s quiet for another long moment as he shuts his eyes tight, taking in your words. His other fist unfurls, and his body trembles almost imperceptibly.

“I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Your heart breaks.

“Honey, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all, I promise you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, his voice an insistent whisper.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders drop from where they’d been tensely held up, body slumping with a silent sigh as you watch him still try to hold this wall up between the two of you. You’d made it past a number of his walls already, but this one… this one you’ve yet to be granted access behind.

“It’s okay to cry, you know?”

Another shake of his head, this time with far more force behind it, almost vehement.

“No.”

You soften your voice, insisting.

“Yes. It is. You can cry now, Astarion. No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna judge you. I swear on my life, that’s the truth.”

His breaths become more labored, uneven and shaking.

“You aren’t his anymore. The old rules don’t apply. You can let it out, now. No one, and I mean no one, is going to punish you for it.”

His eyes pinch closed and his head shakes hard side to side, like he’s fighting his own mind, and his hand opens and closes like it wants to grab onto something. He then moves, wrapping his free hand around your arm and suddenly you’re being pulled toward him, desperately, insistently.

You follow the motion as he continues to tug at you, first leaning forward and propping yourself up with your other hand on the ground as he continues to pull you closer. You quickly gather what he wants as he lets go of your hand in favor of latching onto your other arm, pulling you upward, choking back tears all the while.

You raise up on your knees and his hands move once again to hook beneath your arms as you allow yourself to be pulled up onto his lap with physical strength you keep forgetting he possesses. Hooking your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into you. His arms wrap tightly around your waist and he buries his face into the fabric of your shirt at the collar, muffling the soft sound of his crying which has now turned to full-blown sobs.

He’s still shockingly quiet in spite of it all, and you imagine it’s a mixture of being unable to let go of what’s ingrained into him, and not wanting to alert the entire camp to his current breakdown.

Your thumbs stroke up and down in place on his back, not wanting to let go of your hold on him but still wanting to give him some sort of comforting motion to focus on. Besides, you figure petting across the entire expanse of his scarred back might do the opposite of calming him down, so you refrain and keep your arms wrapped firmly around him. Turning your head down toward his, you whisper to him in between soft kisses to his temple.

“That’s it, love. Let it out.”

“You’re safe now, Astarion, I swear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“You have every right to cry. No one ever should’ve taken that away from you.”

He grips you even tighter as you shower him with painfully unfamiliar affection and acceptance, comfort unlike anything he’s ever felt before in his horribly long life. His forehead presses against your right shoulder as his crying slows, trying to ground himself and catch his breath. You make a point of holding him securely against you, breathing slow and deep to give him an example to follow.

You catch movement in your periphery and glance over at Karlach as she quietly sits up and makes a series of silent lip movements and hand gestures that you don’t entirely grasp. You work them out to mean that she’s gonna take over watch for the rest of the night, and you can rest with Astarion. You send her a grateful look and mouth a “thank you,” to which she waves you off with what you think you read as a silent “don’t mention it” on her lips.

After a short while spent focused on slowing down his breath and bringing him fully out of his memories and back here with you, you whisper quiet words in his ear.

“Your work is done, Astarion. You can rest now.”

You mean it in both possible interpretations of the words, and he seems to understand that, his body finally relaxing against yours for the first time tonight.

“You wanna lie down with me, love?”

He seems like he almost nods, but stops himself, whispering back in an exhausted voice, scratchy and thick from crying.

“Someone has to keep watch.”

You hesitate to inform him that Karlach has already taken over that role for tonight, sure that he’d get no sleep at all if he knew she’d witnessed this. You know you’re gonna be awake watching over him for the rest of the night anyways, so instead, you offer a compromise.

“I can hold you and keep watch at the same time, love. Just… let me sit and you can lay against me.”

He gives the suggestion a moment of thought before nodding his head, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. You maneuver the both of you carefully so as to avoid allowing his tired eyes to catch sight of your obviously awake companion sitting behind him.

It isn’t much of a task considering his eyes are halfway closed already, his only remaining focus locked on you. You settle down at the head of his bedroll, guiding him to lie down and bringing his head to rest in the center of your lap.

Your hands take turns gently combing fingers through his white curls, and you feel his tense shoulders begin to relax at the feeling. You bring a thumb down and gently stroke over the lines creasing his brow, quietly encouraging him to release the tension he likely doesn’t realize he’s holding. You watch him pull in a deep, albeit still slightly unsteady breath, and you can practically feel the relief that washes over him when he exhales.

Words aren’t necessary between the two of you at this point, not in this moment, but you offer him a few anyways, hoping they’ll resonate in his tired mind as he slips into sleep.

“You’re safe here, Star. Rest easy.”

A/N: Like I said in the CWs, I haven't played the game for myself (yet!) so I only know what I've seen in the hours of (mostly Astarion-focused) scenes I've watched on YT. As a result, this might have read a bit funny if I've gotten certain details wrong. For instance- I have no idea how resting at the camp actually goes, whether or not someone keeps watch all night, etc. Also I'm not sure if Astarion even needs to actually sleep or if he meditates/falls into a trance and just calls it sleep, but for the sake of simplicity, (and me being clueless,) when I say he falls into sleep just assume he's doing whatever he'd normally do to rest. On a different note- this little fic was inspired by a combination of two things. The lovely art and additional commentary on this post, by @velnna , and also by me listening to Midnight Hour by Sierra Eagleson on loop for like, an hour, and daydreaming up this specific scene before proceeding to write it out. It is a beautiful song that is now the title and theme-song for this fic, and I encourage you to go give it a listen if you haven't heard it already. Header Image Source: x

[lazylittledragon]

i'm going to scream i got accused of being a transmisogynist by someone on twitter because of this specific part of my t4t steddie art

[khyann]

An elven prince and human king run into each other at a secret place in the forest

..............................................................................................................................

Been wanting to draw a sort of high fantasy scosage idea for a good while (no joke i started drawing this like a year ago and had to restart cuz my skills improved in that time and now what I had drawn a year before was ugly to me XD)

The idea in this also involved an arranged marriage plot in which Sausage, human king of Mythland is engaged to the younger brother of Rivendell's king. Neither of them are on board with this arrangment specially since they haven't even met. But luck had it that chasing their respective birds the king of Mythland stumbles upon a magnificent elf and the prince of Rivendell stumbles upon a gentle looking human.

Also this one comes with a speedpaint :3

Also i drew sausage with long hair before it was cool 😌

[mugiwara-lucy]

Me ranking the Straw Hats on how good of presidents they would be from greatest to least!

1.) Jinbei

2.) Robin

3.) Franky

4.) Chopper

5.) Nami

6.) Usopp

7.) Brook

8.) Sanji

9.) Zoro

10.) Luffy

[just-someone-online]

Juvia headcanons!

One of my favs!

Someone once asked Juvia who she would switch magics with if she could, just as a conversation starter, and to the surprise of everyone in earshot, she said Gajeel. When asked why, she embarrassedly said it was because after seeing someone eat iron for so long, you get a little curious about how it tastes.

Lucy thought Juvia was being a contrarian about liking Vidaldus' music, but no, she's just straight up a metalhead. Juvia invited her to a concert once, and Lucy watched in bemused disbelief as Juvia calmly hummed along to the music while everyone around them screamed and thrashed their heads.

Juvia doesn't know how to swim without turning into water. No one really had an issue with it until she was chained with magic sealing cuffs on a job and nearly drowned. After that, Erza put her through an intensive three day training session to stop it from happening again.

She still keeps up with Totomaru! She tried to convince him to join Fairy Tail when she convinced Gajeel, but he refused to step foot in any guild that had Natsu in it.

A lot of people have mistaken Wendy for her little sister, and Juvia has begun leaning into it on the rare occasion they go on a job together. It was a little embarrassing being doted on at first, but Wendy would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it at least a little.

She and Mira have a massive shipping chart stored in the back of the guild. Carla walked in on them debating whether Lisanna had a thing for Natsu or Lucy and left before she could get dragged into that mess.

While she's no professional seamstress, Juvia is skilled enough with a needle that a lot of her guildmates go to her when their clothes are damaged. She normally doesn't charge, but Natsu comes to her so often that she's considering making an exception.

Juvia sometimes turns into water while she's napping. It's happened often enough that Mira puts a bucket near her when she begins dozing off.

Gajeel is the one who cut her hair when she first joined Fairy Tail. In fact, he's been helping her with her hair for a long time, much to the shock of everybody she's told about it.

[breakbeatbun]

y'all have gotta learn to act normal about other people's characters

just bc you think they're hot doesn't mean the person who made them wants to know if, or how, you'd fuck them. i feel like that's common sense. it doesn't make it OK now just because it's not a real person you're sexualizing. you don't know what they mean to the person who made them, and if you do, well what the fuck, then.

[moonlightsdream]

"If time could stop at the moment we first met. If people really look back on their lives on their deathbeds, she… may be the last person I see in my life."   

Lighter & Princess 点燃我，温暖你 (2022) — ep.02 | ep.36  

[bluestation]

march's assorted sketches and wips

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 1: Halfnelson

This album is SO GREAT!! On my first listen I was immediately very impressed by it and I really love how it has this very particular early 70s rock sound that I'm a big fan of, while still being distinctly Sparks and its own special thing, at a time when Sparks was just starting to become its thing - the heart of it all was there from the very start! While it's not my top #1 favourite Sparks album or even one of my top 5 favourites (which is a nebulous category anyway that's likely to change and shift with time of course, and not even something I pay THAT much attention to) it's definitely still UP THERE and a very special album in my heart that I revisit quite often. Especially when I need something to simply relax but also appreciate some of that early Sparks' experimental and... almost whimsical? sound.

This album also reminds me of winter, a very snowy one at that, and that's in big part because of when I started listening to it for sure, but some of that vibe is already there in the music anyway if you ask me. Walking around a Christmas market in the city and hearing random tunes from this album playing in my head all the while, that's one great memory I have from last year. If I were to give this album some sort of visual representation it would definitely involve a lot of browns and other earthy tones - it would be very dark and mysterious without being scary or truly unnerving necessarily - think something like the Edith Piaf (Said It Better Than Me) music video, but less colorful and involving more wooden materials (yes, this is VERY specific and also definitely an image that's supported by that wintery association, as well as the imagery that my brain came up with for Simple Ballet, but more about that below...).

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Wonder Girl

Roger

High C

Fletcher Honorama (the entire atmosphere this song has is incomparable with anything else)

Simple Ballet (this one was a later favourite but the IMAGERY and atmopshere here is, once again, very special, I actually developed an entire music video idea in my head for it at this point, even if it feels very vague)

Saccharine and the War (probably my favourite on the album)

No More Mr. Nice Guys (THAT guitar solo!! a real mind-blower on my first listen too)

[cetra]

—Dedicated to my dear darling Fray 🧡

[honeycreammilkshake]

i wonder if, in another world where sukuna had said yes and yuuji did take blobkuna back with him, they would watch movies together.

sukuna criticizes all of them and seems to be into only the mindless slasher or horror ones (the gorier the better) but one day yuuji puts on something more serious. sukuna complains the whole time as he sits in yuuji's cupped hands, but then the brat stops arguing with him suddenly and goes quiet during the sad part of the film.

it's not the film that moves sukuna. he didn't even bother to pay attention enough to really know what's going on. but for some reason, when yuuji starts crying, hot tears that drip right down on sukuna, the former king of curses can't look away and he doesn't realize until much later that his own eye is wet as well.

he denies it. he makes fun of yuuji for crying. maybe he even licks yuuji's tears off his wrist just to be gross and rile him up. but he can't stop thinking about how close he felt to yuuji in that one moment, almost like they were sharing bodies again, and maybe he would like to go back to living inside of yuuji. if only to make him cry instead of the movie doing it. or maybe he just likes feeling yuuji's emotions. maybe being inside of yuuji is the closest he can come to feeling those emotions for himself. because maybe it's not such a weakness after all.