#at some point there WAS a shift where they started being intentional abt these things. the parallels. the symbolic choices. the subtext.

[angelsdean]

they literally had him dance with a lamp. A LAMP. when light fixtures have been symbolically used to represent angel halos thru out the show. when they could've just had dean dance with garth or some random anonymous lady or literally any other inanimate object. i can't find the original post but the dance is based off a scene from an old film and in it i think they use a broom or mop. but for dean they chose *lamp* !!!!!!!! these are deliberate choices that mean things dude !!!!! LAMP !!!!! [screams incoherently into pillow]

[goldenworldsabound]

Pls tell me everything abt velvoid and diablo im obsessed with this ship

you're the best Nick 😭😭😭

First I have to Tensura lore dump at you so let's go

The world was created by Veldanava, the first of the True Dragons. He created for himself 3 canon siblings (Velgrynd, Velzard, and Veldora) and also Velvoid (who is the second youngest, with Veldora as the youngest). True Dragons are THE single strongest beings in Tensura. They have various elemental prowess and unique skills and are just insanely strong. They possess a dragon form and a humanoid form. So that's where Velvoid stands - exists from what is essentially the beginning of time and has been powerful the entire time.

At the same time, Veldanava created seven angels, which per cause and effect caused the creation of the Seven Primordial Demons, each of which was associated with a color. Diablo, or at that time Noir/Black, was the only one strong enough to fight and tie with Rouge (later Guy Crimson) who was ostensibly the leader. The primordial demons are...also insanely strong but not comparable to True Dragons by any means for several reasons which we don't need to get into. But Noir liked to fight, and once he tied with Rouge he was like damn. If I get stronger, all fighting will be really boring cause I'll just win. Lame shit. So Rouge got stronger and Noir just like fucked off for a really really long time. Demons can be summoned into the physical world with an offering so occasionally he goes to the physical world, but without a proper body they can't maintain that for very long.

Anyway my point is, they are both so fucking old and so fucking strong. And Diablo/Noir fucking LOVES to fight.

Oh, it's also important to note that Naming is a very important thing in Tensura that makes monsters stronger. So, Noir isn't really a name in that sense but more of...a moniker? It doesn't count.

So basically, at some point, Noir is like. I wanna fight a True Dragon. And he goads Velvoid into a fight. Velvoid takes it easy on him but still thoroughly kicks his ass. This happens often. He normally hates losing, but with Velvoid...he knew he didn't have a chance to begin with and it's so much fun.

I should note. Velvoid is practically a recluse. With power over Space and Void, they can create extra spatial dimensions at will, and their preference is Fuck Da World and hide it in a dimension with their hoard of random items from various collapsed civilizations, typically valuable or rare things a normal person would die to get their hands on. Watching the world and swooping in to scoop up anything of major interest is basically their modus operandi.

That being said, they are annoyed by Noir at first and think he's stupid and insane. Over time that opinion shifts, and instead of telling him to go lick his wounds elsewhere, they invite him into an extra spatial dimension to recoup. They offer him some of their own energy to recover under the ruse of, "it'll get you out of my hair faster" though it's clear there's significance behind it. Noir is beaming and delighted and he's a happy puppy demon fdkjsahfasjk

This just continues to happen after their fights, and Noir even starts to ask about the objects in their hoard, and they agree to tell him a story about one object per fight. He's very happy to get them talking more, and they're very happy to have someone to talk to who listens so intently and asks so many questions. He even occasionally has a relevant story of a time he was summoned to share (he is QUITE the story teller, he can go off forever).

Eventually one day he shows up to fight and somehow they end up kissing about it and ripping each others' clothes off and well stuff happens. It's new to both of them - they are spiritual life forms, they don't really reproduce like that (it seems they can if they want to though but that's a different tangent), and neither has had any such feelings before. They're also both demisexual or grey ace so it's like WOAH wtf is THIS but anyway it happens and it's a great time. And they just start referring to each other as partners but things continue mostly as they were except sometimes the fighting is fighting and sometimes the fighting is fucking- dfjsahfd and sometimes it's neither, it's cuddling and chatting about the things they've observed or experienced in the time they've been apart.

To them, "time they've been apart" is often centuries, by the way. LONG LIVED.

Also fun fact, Diablo fully brings them corpses or cool relics or whatever like a cat bringing it's owner a dead mouse and dead birds. And they fully praise him for it- dkjashfjkdas

Now this brings us to the more current timeline. Rimuru summons Noir (or well he tried to summon much weaker demons and Noir said no :) summon ME!!!! and showed up anyway fdjkahfs), Names him Diablo (thus granting him a new level of strength which is considered insane by basically everyone else), and Diablo becomes his second secretary fdkjafhsdj

Velvoid is only aware that Diablo has properly incarnated into a physical body but not because of who or why or how. They give him a chance to come greet them. He does not. And this brings us to a fic I need to post soon that I managed to write yesterday despite my hands. Point is, they show up, try to kick the shit out of him, find out he got Named, and want to kick the shit out of him even more.

So as far as dynamic in current times, the two of them are insufferable. Diablo LOVES to rile up Velvoid (this has always been true) as it means Velvoid will either attack him or put him in his place another way and he loves that. He also thinks their tsundereness is still precious and adorable even after all this time. He will also take literally every opportunity to gush about them and like this demon just goes. He does not shut up. He will keep going until someone forces him to shut up. Usually that person is an embarrassed Velvoid.

Velvoid does learn that Diablo doesn't like being called cute in front of other people, he gets all flustered and weird about it ("N-not in front of Lord Rimuru, please, Velvoid-") and they might use that to torment him a little bit. It's rare to be able to actually fluster him so they gotta, you know?

Behind closed doors (or perhaps inside of extra spatial dimensions) they're both quite cuddly and sweet. Diablo is a slut for praise and Velvoid will actually give it to him, and pet his hair while they do so and that sort of thing and he's just BEAMING he is the happiest puppy murder demon you've ever seen.

Also moments like Velvoid actually truly remarking that he's grown stronger, and truly expressing joy at him finding something that excites him and following that fully, and listening to him go off constantly (Rimuru is always shutting him up fdkjas). And Diablo more quietly and privately praising Velvoid and coaxing them into sharing their own stories and bringing them gifts from Tempest or wherever. Just. They show affection by bickering loudly and violently in public (Diabo is fully a masochist and a sadist) but also are sweet and cute in private (and sometimes a little in public).

I feel like there was more but all thoughts have fled my brain as I got soft for him.

[cdroloisms]

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao) 

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

[fuck-customers]

(Kinda long and not so much a fck customers more just a vent abt working w mental illness dealing with customers, hope that’s okay!)

I have pretty crippling social anxiety and it feels like I’ve gotten worse ever since I started working again. I’m the typical grew up a shut in pretty sheltered case so my social skills weren’t ever great to begin with, and on top of that had a few traumatic events (S/A, physical assault by a stranger, others) that happened over the past few years that really ramped up my social anxiety 10x. Funnily enough, I work hospitality so usually when I clock on I forcefully slip into a facade of being energetic and conversational - but even then I won’t usually talk more then I have to or at times I just won’t know what to say outside the standard “what can I get you? - have a nice day!”. One of the areas we do is coffee, there’s a little side window by the machine customers will receive their food at and usually when someone orders a coffee - if we’re not backed up and I tell them they’ll have to wait - they will stand by and watch as I make their order. I hate this part the most. It like I can feel their eyes boring into me from behind, like they’re watching every microscopic thing I do and judging the f out of it - it gets to a point sometimes where my hands will shake so bad I’ll start dropping or spilling things or start rushing out frankly subpar orders just to get them to stop looking at me. When they try to start small talk I just want to scream at them to leave me alone. I know they don’t have any bad intentions, I’m just freaked out and feel caged in.

It’s gotten really bad over the past couple months, to the point I’ll get home feeling so mentally exhausted I can’t speak properly, or I’ll just have full blown panic attacks. One night I was driving home and without even realising just started to zone out to the point it felt like I blinked and then was home suddenly. My body seemed to have just functioned on autopilot; I had no idea how long I’d been sitting in my driveway for. Barely even go out in public outside of work anymore and when I do I’m a mess. I’ll use all my energy just to hold myself together bc the idea of breaking down in front of strangers scares me to death. So I’ll just go between frantic and numb trying to conceal an attack - probably look like some sort of continually short circuiting machine, going between shaking and scared to very stiff robotic movements.

It’s taking a serious toll on me mentally and physically, I want to change careers but at this point I have little to no experience to get in to any non-customer service centric jobs nor the energy required to study for a degree in something else. Feels like I’m just trapped and I don’t know what to do anymore, it’s getting harder and harder to function outside of work bc the job takes like 90% of my energy - I don’t eat properly anymore, my sleep schedule is worse, I’m overworked - but I’m too scared and too much of push over to approach managers about my issues or request less shifts, I really need this job and the money.

[jaekaicx]

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

[tsukishumai]

HELLO! i was wondering if your requests are open,,, if they are can i pls request prompt 44 from angst with oikawa??? THANK YOUUU!!!. p.s the kita angst broke me i- TT

HELLO!! Yes, requests are open, tysm for requesting something! 💘 & aw I’m sorry haha, I wasn’t too confident abt that one so to hear that u liked it makes me uwu 🥺 hope u like this one!

Send me a prompt + ur fav character here :)

44. “What am I in your life? Because as of lately I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.”

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Eek, again I suck at angst so I apologize if this is terrible <3

You really only had one goal in life, and that was to be successful. There was no nuance to it, no specific path you intended to follow. Hell, even which career you wanted for yourself was up in the air. But all of those things were just minor details. Regardless of whichever mountain you decide to climb, you had every intention of sitting yourself right at the very top.

It was only natural to want to be the best, isn’t it? You couldn’t think of one good reason why you should be satisfied with anything other than first place. That’s why out of all the applicants, you were the one awarded a scholarship to the prestigious Aoba Johsai. It wasn’t a stroke of luck, nor an answered prayer; and it truly irked you when people tried demeaning all your efforts by simply boiling it down to happenstance. You studied your ass off, spent days and nights with your nose buried in a book or camped out in a library, and in the end it paid off.

Not a lot of people understood. If people were trying to be nice, they would say you were just ambitious. But if people were trying to be mean, they would call you shrewd and cold. None of those things mattered to you either way; the view of their upturned faces as you looked down on them from your pedestal provided you enough fuel to warm your lonely nights.

It’s not that you didn’t value friendship; you managed to cultivate a few acquaintances, and it’s not like you sat by yourself a lunch. But high school just felt so arbitrary; Aoba Johsai was just one of many steps towards your future, what was the point in forming connections with people you would probably never have met if not for the fact you were all born around the same time? You watched as your classmates settled into their cliques, formed their little groups, and - as much as any high schooler could - fall in love.

You didn’t hate love. You just didn’t see the point, really. You saw the way some of your friends start obsessing over their significant other; friendships start to break, grades start to slip, mental health goes on the decline. Why would you want that? Not after spending all your time in setting up the foundation for yourself; there wasn’t a single part of yourself that you were willing to give to anyone else.

So why was it you were standing in front of Oikawa Tooru, eyes nearly swollen shut from the tears that forged a streaky path down the planes of your cheeks, snot disgracefully dripping from your nostrils as you desperately choked back a sob?

“How long have you known?” You asked, but you weren’t prepared for the answer.

“A year,” he mumbled shamefully, unable to even look you in the eye. If you did, you would see tears of his own threatening to spill, but at the moment all you saw was red.

“You’ve known... for a year?”

“Y/N,” Oikawa attempted to reach out to you, but you stepped back and slapped his hand away.

“Is this why you’ve been blowing me off lately,” you whispered, Oikawa’s odd behavior finally beginning to click in heard.

You haven’t felt the touch of Oikawa’s hands in weeks; the very same ones that always reached out for you, guiding you to exactly where you need to be with their permanent presence on the small of your back. His eyes that always seems to be able find you in any crowd were downcast, shifted away until you forgot what it felt like to melt under their intensity.

At first, you simply chalked it up to his devastating loss against his oh so beloved kohai. Nationals had been a dream of Oikawa’s that will now never come into fruition. You, of all people, knew the overwhelming heartache of coming up short. It was his passion and dedication to the sport that drew you to him, after all.

But after weeks of near radio silence, you start to feel yourself begin to unravel. Had you done something wrong? Was he still this upset about the loss? Is there something more you could to help alleviate some of his stress? Is he starting to lose interest in you? Maybe he doesn’t find you attractive anymore?

These were thoughts that would never have even had the chance to cross your mind before. Now, the lack of sleep and uneasiness building in your chest had you two seconds away from bursting.

Instead, you felt your whole existence deflate when you had been handed back your first failing grade. The angry red marks began to swim in your peripherals, wondering how you could possibly have let yourself fallen this far.

You had one goal. One clear goal. Now, your vision had been expertly muddled by wavy brown hair and bright teal volleyball shorts.

“And you just made this decision without even thinking of me?” Your voice cracked at the last accusatory word of your question, growing increasingly irritated Oikawa’s unusual silence.

It’s infuriating the more you thought about it, really. You didn’t want this. You never wanted any of this. You just wanted to graduate high school at the top of your class, get into a good college, and start working your way up in the world. You were content to stay in your little bubble if it meant that you’d be able to achieve your dreams.

But Oikawa was Oikawa. He was simply too bright to ignore. And like Icarus to the sun, you thought yourself invincible until you flew close enough to burn from his radiance.

“What am I in your life?” You spat out, and the words left a bitter taste in your mouth, “Because as of lately I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.”

Oikawa’s head snapped up, anguish stamped on his features as he desperately said, “You’re not nothing to me!”

“Then how could you do this?” You pleaded, disgusted at your pathetic groveling.

Oikawa shook his head, as if begging you to understand. “It’s not about what or how much you mean to me. I have to do this for myself and my future.”

It was so ironic, it made you livid.

Oikawa Tooru had successfully wedged himself into your life, deconstructing your walls brick by brick, gracing you with the warmth of his presence and the ardor of his love.

Only so he could be face to face as he drove the knife into your heart himself, allowing you a taste of pseudo happiness until it was time for him to take it away.

“Good luck in Argentina, Oikawa.”

His eyes widened at use of his last name, panic shooting across his features as he tried to stop you from leaving.

“Wait, Y/N -“

“Good bye.”

And you knew it wasn’t fair to him. You knew he was only doing what he felt was right, you understood that much too perfectly. It was irrational of you to shed tears over the most logical choice for Oikawa to make. You should be supportive, you knew that. But the embittered thought of being left behind was just too heavy to bear.

You walked away and never looked back, leaving behind two broken hearts.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(You look up at the sky as an airplane left trails of clouds that blasted through a sunset painted with pastel pinks and purple hues.

You briefly wondered if this plane was taking Oikawa Tooru back home.

It never is.)

[crimsonrosee]

Hey Emma!! I hope you’ve been well, I love that new coloring of yours :3 your style is quite unique and glittery sparkles I love it haha ^^ I am just checking up because I saw some concerning/worrysome things happening. First, though me saying sorry won’t fix someone else’s mistakes, I’m so sorry to hear what’s been going on with the hate anon. When there are people like that it’s quite hard not to fall into a loop of overthinking and starting to wonder if maybe they are right about everything. But in the end it’s amazing to see you stand strong against them because they are truly wasting their time here on earth judging and not even giving good criticism! Second is about the note situation and how it’s definitely discouraging especially during the time that is the like to reblog ratio on tumblr right now. Times are definitely changing with an influx of users that don’t know how tumblr works but at this point one has to be grateful for whatever they can get right? Lmao. You are so talented and have such great ideas that I only wish the note problem wouldn’t get to you as much. Sure following has a role to play in this and since you started off a little over a year ago I’m sure you have a nice small community (no bad intentions behind saying that I’m just guessing since your blog is still fairly new and you’re still getting used to tumblr)

What I’m trying to get across is this. I’ve been here for 10 years and even to this day I have such a bad habit of eyeing my activity and sometimes it does get to me “why doesn’t this post that I worked super hard on have hardly any attraction? Why doesn’t anyone love it as much as I do?” I suggest not to worry much about how much notes a posts gets and to just love and admire your piece and say to yourself that you did a good job. That you worked hard on that and it’s okay. Whatever you make, never compare to others because that’s where bad habits start to form as well which can possibly lead to trying to steal the style of whoever is successful and just do what they do. Always be unique, and start trying to rid yourself of that habit and I’m positive that it would shift your way of thinking and using the site.

I mean no ill intent with this message And only mean good. Trust me I know how hard it can be to get rid of a bad habit but if you just start, 1% is better than 0%. I believe in your bright and fruitful future doing and making work carefree of the eyes of others. And Ill always wish you nothing but the best Emma. Do what you want, when you want, however you want. And as always if you ever need help or more advice my door will always be open 🤍🤍🤍 oh and it doesn’t matter if you respond to this privately or not, your choice! ^^

AWWWW ALYSSA BESTIE MY EYES ARE FILLED WITH TEARS! THANK YOU SWEETHEART! MWAH ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊˚

i know ive been feeling gloomy whenever i use this app. Since i have only 1 year experience of using tumblr, it saddens me how my creations are not being recognised. Last year, when i uploaded my works, with no self reblog id end up having 1k notes. This year i thought my creations improved way better but I can't attest that ;(

I stress a lot creating stuff but when i see my creations are being ignored by many ppl it hurts me deep core. And yes i will always work with my own floral styles! Since i love using flowers & sparkles everywhere! 🌺✨ Even if it's girlish but its my vibe. I wish i created tumblr years ago so i wouldn't have to feel ignored this way ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚

Thank you for ur kind & sweet words alyssa! You didn't have to type long message for me but im ecstatic you care abt my feelings! I LOVE YOU SM! have a fantastic day! ♡︎♡︎

[rhydium]

fuck it starfinite drabble

its 12pm n i haven't slept, @ the two (2) other fans of these dumbasses come get yall juice ig ???? played around w/ a concept i had n figured i'll just ... post it. why not. this takes place in my android infinite au, pre-relationship!! u don't rly need context other than that tbh ((but feel free to ask me abt it i will gladly infodump))

cw: loss of limb (infinite's arm; it gets reattached), references to blood n stuff in the context of intrusive thoughts. please lmk if i need more!!

×

"what on earth were you thinking?" starline near shouts, his voice exasperated, shaky with adrenaline. he's angry and he's afraid and it's, it's stupid, really, he can fix this, but his hands tremble as he rummages through his toolbox, eyes darting over to infinite; missing their right arm, wires sparking, broken and it's sickening. he has to look away again. breathe.

"you can't keep... you — you're being too reckless!"

"i don't have much other choice." infinite says, so simply, so infuriatingly calm, so calm, such disregard for the fact they just had a limb blown off.

starline finds the last screwdriver he needs, but continues to sift around, poking and prodding and inspecting wrenches as if he's still looking for something. if he stops that means having to face this and he isn't ready — he needs to, but he can't.

"why?" he asks, ignoring the way his voice cracks, swallows the dry lump in his throat, "why, infinite?"

"is it really not obvious?"

starline grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut. his hands grip the edge of the box. "no!! it isn't!"

"i can be repaired. rebuilt. you can't. it's not that complicated. if one of us gets hit then logically it should be me."

his chest seizes as the words sink in, sink through his skin and down, down, down into his stomach like a stone; his gut churns and twists with guilt.

no... no, that's —

"that's stupid!" starline hisses. that self-sacrificing, idiotic...!

he whips around, locking eyes with infinite, don't look at their arm, don't look at it, don't look at the socket.

"don't speak like that. ever again."

whether it's his expression, his tone, infinite seems taken aback, almost appearing to flinch. they stare at him, frowning, though in a way more indicative of confusion than anger.

"like what?"

"like you're disposable!!"

...fuck.

there's a long moment of silence after starline's outburst. he pulls in a deep breath, pinches the bridge of his bill, averting his eyes to the floor, anywhere else, anywhere but infinite. he thinks about apologising — he shouldn't have yelled like that — but infinite is, this can't continue, they're being nonsensical, they keep endangering themselves, it can't.

"i... you just don't get it, do you?" he murmurs, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. a small, strained laugh escapes his throat, voice thin. "do you have any idea how it makes me feel, watching you get hurt like this?? throwing yourself around like some kind of — like a living shield??"

he's not going to cry. starline is not about to cry.

"you... could have died." infinite says quietly. "all those times, and today, if i hadn't stepped in — for you those blows would have been life changing, if not fucking fatal. do you know how that makes me feel, star?! i can't let that happen. it's so easy to just, imagine you laying there, not moving, the blood, and..." their fingers — god, the ones they still have — twitch restlessly. infinite picks at their claws.

starline can hardly restrain the choked noise that fights its way out of him.

they're doing this for him, to protect him, this is all his —

"it's not your fault." infinite speaks firmly, as if sensing his thought process. "but objectively..." they wave a hand, sighing, "you know? this doesn't even hurt me."

"it hurts me." starline exhales through his nose wearily. "emotionally."

"i'd rather you be a bit emotionally distressed than dead," infinite scoffs softly, "let me repeat; the damage i take isn't permanent or painful. you, on the other hand, are one accident from being... i don't even want to imagine it."

"then what am i supposed to do?!"

"be more careful and i won't have to get involved." infinite shrugs.

starline groans.

"why does it bother you so much?"

"are you kidding?!"

the lack of response would point toward no, apparently.

"because i care about you, you absolute fool!"

infinite falters for a moment.

"...but. i'm not in pain. i can be fixed. what are you afraid of?"

starline gazes at them wordlessly.

i'm afraid one day i won't be able to fix you.

i'm afraid i'm going to lose you.

i'm terrified of losing you because i love you but you don't know that and you can't know that.

"...star?"

"i — look, forget it. i just, i don't want to talk about this anymore, i need to repair your arm."

"you're hiding something."

"aren't you perceptive..." starline can't help but mutter.

"are you okay?"

does it look like it?

"i'm fine."

"could at least put a little effort into it if you're going to lie." infinite mumbles.

"would you just...!" starline takes a deep breath. "be quiet. please."

infinite briefly opens their mouth as if preparing to protest, but ultimately falls silent. they look away, absently staring off at the far window.

starline grabs his tools. he just... has to focus on work. this will probably take a while, he realises. it's easily the most damage infinite has ever taken — at least during their time with him. he's worked with robotics a long time, but infinite is a highly advanced android, and they require extra care, presicion.

infinite's shoulder sparks again. they don't react.

"...you really don't feel anything, do you?"

infinite raises a brow.

oh. right. i told them not to talk.

they shake their head, and starline nods, uttering a quiet "sorry."

no reply.

"can i... start the repair?"

"...you're not just going to go ahead and do it?"

"no. never. listen, i've made habit of asking for your consent and i have no intention of breaking it. it's your body."

"...i don't mind."

"alright."

starline supresses a sigh and begins to tackle the rather daunting task of fixing up and reattaching infinite's lost arm, which has been laying motionless on the table for the past ten minutes. despite the lack of blood, absence of stench, as would be had if infinite was organic, it's still disturbing somehow. he shivers at the thought of dealing with dismembered flesh, of muscle and bone, and finds himself suddenly a lot more appreciative that infinite is an artificial being.

despite the knowledge infinite can't actually feel any of what he's doing, starline proceeds slowly, gently. regardless of whether they can feel it, their body deserves to be treated with respect. he fiddles with their wires delicately between his fingers, turns bolts and adjusts joints with only as much firmness as necessary, apologises when he has to snap certain supports back into place. now and then, he glances at infinite, who looks oddly tense, contemplative... uncertain.

"are you... uncomfortable?"

"what...? no, i... i told you i can't feel it, didn't i?" they say distantly.

"well — yes, but, what about mentally? are you alright...? do you want me to stop? i'm sorry that these procedures are so... invasive, and it probably, after —"

— no, no, what are you doing don't bring that up —

"...ah. nevermind."

infinite blinks, as if processing his words, and then their expression shifts in understanding.

"you're fine. i mean, this is.... i'm fine." they affirm.

"...okay."

"i mean it. it's... you're nothing like him."

there was once a time starline would have found such a statement insulting. nowadays, he can't be more relieved infinite thinks as such. he adjusts his glasses and continues tinkering away, figuring he won't get much else out of them, at least for now. whatever is on their mind, he'll let it be. the rest of the repair goes smoothly, time passing in a silence that is isn't uncomfortable, nor fully comfortable. he can't help but feel bad about the... was it an argument? he isn't sure, really. maybe that's what infinite was thinking about...?

as he wraps things up, closing the last panel on their forearm and preparing to request that infinite run through a few tests to make sure everything is working correctly, they finally speak; though it isn't anything starline was expecting them to say.

"you could destroy me," infinite utters softly, and they just kind of... look at him, something in their eyes that starline can't put a name to. "if you wanted to. you could rip me apart from the inside."

"i... guess i could." starline murmurs, his fingers lightly trailing over the panel, hidden beneath infinite's fur, the only sign of its existence being several small ridges and the bump of a screw head. "does that scare you?"

infinite smiles. "it's terrifying." they reply. "to allow myself to be so vulnerable... to — to want to let my guard down."

starline blinks in surprise.

to want to...? they want to let me in?

"then why...?" he tilts his head curiously. his hand stills, but lingers where it is.

infinite shrugs loosely. "it's you."

oh.

starline, don't you even think about it, that isn't what they mean...!

he clears his throat awkwardly.

"er... is that... supposed to explain it?"

"it's all i've got." infinite replies. the small quirk of their lips broadens a bit, and they chuckle. "sorry."

...starline finds himself smiling back.

god, he's tired, the past hour has been immeasurably draining, but... this, this makes it all worth it. seeing them like that... it lifts all the stress, the anxiety. he feels lighter.

"thank you."

"huh?"

"for trusting me. i know it... must take a lot."

infinite shifts their hand — the one that hadn't been damaged — and hesitantly, very slowly reaches over. they look between starline's hand still resting on their inner arm, just above the wrist, starline's eyes, his hand again, and starline goes to withdraw — but before he can do so, infinite places their own over it.

"thank you." they whisper. "for treating me kindly. for treating me like... a person."

starline's breath catches in his throat. oh god, he cannot mess this up. infinite never — they never initiate contact like this, ever. he can't scare them away, he knows it's difficult for them to be touched, let alone how much faith they're showing in him to touch, and he will not squander all their progress. nothing will ruin this moment.

"you are one."

"...i care about you too, star."

"i — what?"

"you said earlier that you cared about me. i care about you too," they elaborate, a flicker in their eyes, this time something starline recognises, as quickly as it's hidden again; fondness. a very specific kind of fondness that... no — he isn't sure if he's imagining this or not. he has to be. surely, he's making it up. wishful thinking, seeing what one wants to.

"...a lot. more than you know." infinite finishes.

starline gazes into their eyes steadily, searching, trying to find it again. infinite stares back, almost like they're looking for something, too. oh, how easy it would be; to lean down, move in, to kiss them, but starline is not going there. he has no confirmation infinite likes him like, well, that and, it would be far too fast even if they did. not to mention he certainly wouldn't do it without asking.

"...you're hiding something too, aren't you?" starline settles for asking vaguely.

infinite's eyes widen slightly, then glitter mysteriously, amused.

"aren't you perceptive?"

[dameferre]

i also wanna know abt who am i really 👀

okay. so. ‘who am i really’ is the first zukka thing i ever wrote, started before i had even. finished watching the show lmao

basically i have 25k of it written, probably another 4-5k written in notes and an outline, but i am mature and knowledgeable of my own shortcomings enough to know there’s no way in hell i’ll ever finish it, because that 25k? isn’t even. 20% of the fic if i were to actually write it, like this shit would approach 200k in its final form and i very simply do not have the time to actually. write that lmao

but i’m happy to talk about it! so basically it was the whole ‘oh my god they were roommates’ premise except zuko is sokka’s downstairs neighbour, they fight over music volume, and for the first part of the fic zuko’s a bootlicking son of the city police chief and starting out at the police academy, who calls the cops on sokka for his music one night

aand i just realised how long this is gonna be so under the cut!

so we start from the ‘zuko’s a fucking asshole’ stage and move on from there, and then due to a couple of different mildly traumatic events  zuko realises the police system is inherently evil, has his whole redemption arc slash emotional breakdown and quits the force, he gets cut off by ozai and moves in w sokka for cheaper rent bc sokka is a nice person (who’s seen the way zuko has been walking around looking like absolute Death for weeks) and also needs someone to help w the rent

we also start from the point where sokka’s dating suki, and zuko’s still coming to terms with his sexuality, so there’s all that to work through

basically it just goes into the development of zuko and sokka’s friendship, and zuko’s development as a person going from an incredibly sheltered, incredibly privileged life to... the opposite of that lmao and how his friendship with the rest of the gaang grows, and his personal journey, and whatnot, just a nice little mirror for canon except w more swearing and the author talking about how all cops are bastards

it’s all self indulgent nonsense and little bits of shit that popped into my head so i wrote it down, really, but here’s my favourite bit

“So I was thinking.”

“Never a good sign.”

“Ha, ha.” Sokka deadpans. “Seriously though. I want a GNO. Drinking, dancing, questionable choices, might even get some action if I’m on my game.”

“And you think this is something I would enjoy.” Zuko, the introvert who can’t dance, responds.

“You’ll enjoy it because you’re going with your best friends, one of whom is just getting over the emotional hangover of the end of a three-year relationship.” Sokka pouts. “We can even go to a gay club! It’s been ages since I’ve been to one.”

Zuko snorts, and looks back to the TV. “I thought you wanted to get some ‘action’.”

“I mean, I would also be fine with just a fun night out with the gang. But if there are interested parties.” Sokka shrugs.

“Well, forgive me if my idea of a fun night isn’t watching Toph beat the shit out of you for creeping on lesbians at a gay club.”

Sokka makes an exasperated noise. “C’mon, you know me better than that.” He says, throwing a cheeto at the side of Zuko’s face. “I said interested parties. I can be strictly dick-tly for an evening, no sweat.”

Zuko turns, brow raised. “What does that even mean.”

“Y’know. I wouldn’t say no to a girl of the bipan persuasion if she wants to make a move, but if I’m actively pursuing anyone, it’ll just be guys. And, y’know, any non-girl people who seem into it.”

A record scratches in Zuko’s brain. “You… why would you pursue a guy.”

“I dunno, if he’s hot?” Sokka says, looking at him like he’s crazy. “Or has a nice smile? Shiny hair? I dunno, why do you usually pursue guys, Z.”

“But.” Zuko stammers, staring at Sokka. “But I’m attracted to men.”

Sokka blinks at him. “…so am I?”

What. “What.” No seriously, what. “What?!”

“Is this… are you trying to be funny?”

Zuko stares at his roommate, frantically trying to understand what’s going on. “Are you trying to be funny?!”

“No, I’m being bisexual.” Sokka says, slightly defensively. “Because I’m bisexual?”

“Since when?!”

Sokka stares at him, then gestures to wall. “Zuko, that’s been up since I moved in. I know you’ve seen it.”

Zuko turns to stare at the wall, but all he can see is- “The flag?”

“Yeah, Zuko, the fucking flag. Did you think I just thought it was pretty?”

“Is-” Zuko flounders. “Is the flag significant?”

Sokka looks intently, somewhat crazed, at Zuko’s face, like he’s searching for something. Whatever it is, he obviously doesn’t find it. His arm is still held out towards the wall, and he uses it to gesture towards the flag again, more aggressively this time. “It’s the fucking bisexual pride flag, Zuko!”

“I.” Zuko gapes at him, still confused. “I thought the pride flag was a rainbow?”

“Oh my-” Sokka starts. “Are you fucking with me right now. Is this you fucking with me.” He pauses, staring at Zuko. “Jesus fuck, Zuko, there are different flags for different sexualities. That’s the bisexual one.”

Zuko stares at the flag, then back at Sokka, then back at the flag. Then back at Sokka. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!”

“Everybody knows that, Zuko!” Sokka exclaims, then brings his hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I guess you just. Didn’t know that. Somehow. And that’s fine. Point being, I am bisexual. I am attracted to all genders, I’ve been- I thought- out since I was sixteen. So yeah. I’m bi.”

“But.” Zuko’s brain has been trying to process this information, and now rejects it entirely. “But that. You can’t be.”

Sokka gives him a weird look. “I can’t be?” His face shifts, into something sort of… defensive. Wary, almost. “Do you have a problem with bisexuals?”

“What?” Oh shit. “No, of- of course not! I- I love bisexuals! All of the- um,” Zuko’s mind races, trying to think of a bi person he knows personally, and then frantically widening its search to any bisexual human being in all of recorded history. “Jet! Jet’s bi! Love Jet, he’s, um. Yeah! Bi.”

Sokka’s face isn’t defensive anymore, but it is shocked. And- something else, Zuko can’t quite place. “You love Jet?”

“What?”

“You just said you loved Jet.” Sokka says, sort of quietly. “I just- I guess I didn’t know you guys were at that point.”

Zuko absolutely does not love Jet. Only Jet loves Jet. But Sokka’s looking at him, lit by the artificial glow of the TV, still the most attractive thing Zuko’s ever seen. So Zuko’s self-preservation instinct kicks in. “Uh. Yeah, you know.” He swallows. “It’s still pretty new, but. Yeah.”

“Well hey, that’s.” Sokka gives a small smile. “That’s great.” He places his hands on his thighs, pushing up off the couch. “I’m just gonna text everybody, see if we can get the night planned.”

He walks away, leaving Zuko to his mental breakdown in peace.

Sokka’s bi.

Sokka.

Is bi.

[later that week or some transition i haven’t written lmao]

“Zuko, you know I’m bi, right?” Suki laughs, but the grin slides off her face when Zuko hesitates. “You know that, right.”

Zuko makes a reluctant face. “I know now…?”

“Oh my-“ Suki stares at him, then looks at Sokka who makes a face as if to say ‘see, what did I tell you’. “Ew, Zuko!” She cries. “Ew, you thought- you thought I was straight?!”

“You had a boyfriend,” Zuko defends himself weakly.

Suki looks like she wants to scream. “I’ve never been so offended in my entire life.”

“Now you know how I feel.” Sokka says.

“Me! A straight girl!” She laughs, slightly hysterical. “Me!”

“Okay, I guess I just-” Zuko starts, but Suki holds out two fingers in front of his face, shutting him up.

“No no, that’s enough from you today.” She looks, wide-eyed, at Sokka. “What do I have to do, paint the fucking bi flag on my face?”

Sokka snorts. “He wouldn’t recognise it, anyway.”

Suki turns back to glare at Zuko. “I thought we were friends, Zuko.”

and then in a perfect world this would be followed by a montage of all the times sokka has definitely been openly bisexual in front of ‘still coming to terms with his own sexuality’ zuko who’d just. wrote it off as bro culture

[autisticlalna]

ALRIGHT im awake, let's talk Tales.

i am many thoughts head full about last night, so this is gonna be somewhat disorganized. im gonna start off with my overall opinion of the episode: it was okay! it was fun to watch, and it wasnt what i was expecting tone-wise which, honestly, seems to have been intentional.

that being said, i really hope tales with casts as large as this one arent super common because theyre really overstimulating, especially when you have the full dream team so theyre constantly bickering and fighting each other. they can be a Lot to deal with. schlatt was wonderful though, and it was a fun surprise to see connor back! and still being connor. punz was also fantastic

it's not going to be my favourite episode, but it was fun and thats what matters. karl is definitely steering in the direction of tales having lighthearted endings again, which he confirmed on twitter-- he doesn't want the twist endings to stop being twists, which makes sense. from a creator standpoint, tales is a series where cc!karl gets to mess around in cool locations with his friends as they play characters, so they just kinda do whatever and have fun with it! and its cool

so. let's talk analysis. namely, the breaking of the suddenly-dark endings.

oh god i think im gonna have to split this into two parts because i am talking way too much im so sorry [ edit: here is the second part where i talk abt the inbetween! ]

so, here's how the tales have been going so far.

the town that never was: pilot episode so im not entirely sure about the vibes on it, and i also havent seen it all the way through yet, but it ends with gogtopia (rip) getting destroyed and everybody moving on. its nbd.

the village that went mad: in the "canon" ending, everyone dies except the murderers. still framed as pretty goofy though, because this was pre-tales shifting into full lore mode and is blatantly just them messing around

the beach episode: ranboo digs up the treasure! and then gives a graphics card to.. sapnap? i think? but keeps the cool sword. pretty positive ending!

the lost city of mizu: everyone explores an underwater city where the vibes are clearly... off... and then Everyone Dies. ranbob reveals his true colours and wipes out all of the fishermen, either directly or indirectly (technically benjamin's death wasnt caused by him but they Were fleeing from him at this point so uh ??)

the masquerade: everyone goes to a party! and then someone gets brutally murdered. and then someone else gets brutally murdered. and the cast steadily dwindles until its just karl and the two revealed villains, and then karl Also dies.

the wild west: everybody bands together to stop the bandits! john john dies in an unfortunate accident of getting voted to go shoot someone by karl because the chat wouldnt put ranboo on the line otherwise (/j), but besides that everyone makes it out okay.

so, now we get to last night's tale, the haunted mansion.

from the start, it's got vibes of the masquerade. everyone's gathered together for a party, they do the duck/duck/goose joke, there's just this sort of vague feeling of "okay, SOMETHING" is gonna go wrong. i was expecting things to go south as soon as schlatt showed up, but.. nah, he's just here to chill. he breaks his legs trying to play duck/duck/goose and gets bullied by a pair of twins. hes actually pretty friendly, all things considered.

then connor gets kidnapped at the mansion, and karl decides to save him! no one else really cares or takes it seriously. karl has to, like, rally them together. schlatt's just screwing around the entire time, and is v clear that this is just like, a fun game for him. he's here to have a good time!

so, this was when i expected things to start going south for the characters v fast. literally the first challenge in the first trial people were struggling with, but anyone that fell/"died" just... came back okay? which like, alright, its the first challenge, there's some leeway. but like, for every misstep after that, if somebody died there'd be a couple jokes abt it from schlatt or somebody else but they were fine. a lot of the challenges in the trials werent lethal, actually.

im noting this mainly because of mizu. mizu was, like, the first real instance of "if someone dies, theyre permadead" (with the exception of ranbob exploding himself on accident). it happened in village too, but that was baked into the premise because of it being town of salem. mizu was the first big "oh, fuck" moment, and benji's death especially comes to mind because of it being a deadly parkour challenge like they encountered a couple times in the trials. plus, like, masquerade was a surprise murder mystery. john john got shot in the wild west and stayed dead. (o7) tales, starting with mizu, had v much switched to "people die if they are killed" outside of minor goofs like ranbob exploding himself or michael getting shot. and with how chaotic the mansion was, as well as everybody sabotaging each other, you could argue that all of the deaths would be in the same funny mistakes category, but after getting used to the tone of the other tales it stood out to me as a "huh" moment. i was genuinely expecting people to start getting killed off because, haunted mansion, death trials, menacing ghost, etc etc, but even when schlatt kidnapped people over the course of the tale there still wasnt a big dramatic reaction.

which leads into the reveal, or rather the lack of one. no one was actually hurt! schlatt brought up a few times that he was torturing them, but.. it's schlatt. the entire time everyone was in the main room, you could see the nameplates below, even. the only ones actually upset abt stuff were karl (who was in "save my friends!" mode) and ash (because zachary got put in the fun pit on accident). there really Was no danger the entire time, for the first time since the beach episode. schlatt was having a fun party with connor and connor's friends were invited, and sometimes fun parties include weird death trials! he's a ghost, he's bored.

this was... pretty anti-climactic. both to the audience, and to c!karl himself. karl gets frustrated that he went through all of that and no one was actually in any danger. when tales started, he was just the narrator, not a participant-- he watched everything go down, and wrote about it afterwards, so it didnt really matter much to him. the first time he gets directly involved is mizu. mizu, where he sees everyone die. the masquerade, where he sees everyone die. the wild west, where things have a happy ending, but there is still a clear threat he helps defeat and people die in the process.

karl is used to being an active participant for a reason. he's used to something terrible happening and him having to respond to it. in this case, something "terrible" happened, but it wasn't really a big deal in the end. it almost all seems pointless. the most karl did was push everyone into actually trying to save connor; francis, rash and joey solved most of the challenges, so they wouldve done fine without him. karl was here to observe, but thought he was here to participate and help save the day, because thats what he'd been doing the past few tales.

this entire point is honestly explained better in this post lol oops: [ x ]

so... now we get to the inbetween. which is, uh, a lot. i am going to have to make a new post for this god fuck damn

[misterghostfrog]

Forgiveness Is Divine But I'm An Earthly Thing

Did someone say ‘more scottish safehouse grieving fics’?

Based off my idea of Jon getting Big Sad over Daisy from this ficlet. And ended up with a bit of exploring Martins feelings abt his mum. With a bonus Big Soft at the end. Enjoy!

(Content warnings: Grief and discussions of grieving, vague discussions about past child abuse.)

Jon stares vacantly at the scrap of fabric that might once have been called a curtain resting haphazardly on the coffee table. He feels exhausted. Like someone took all the emotions he had left, scooped them out and dumped them somewhere. Leaving him weighted and hollow.

It had taken him off guard, just how hard the realization had hit him. Sure he’d known she was gone, from the moment he’d heard Basira’s voice over the phone. But there hadn’t been a moment where he’d really considered it. Not until he pulled that blasted curtain out from the knot of sheets that had formed in the linen closet and began running his thumb over the shoddy Daisy patterning lining the bottom.

It had thrown him back to a conversation he and Daisy had had barely a month ago. He’s not sure how it happened, but they had stumbled onto the topic of the worst gifts they had ever received, and Daisy admitted she wasn’t actually a fan of Daisies. She liked the idea of them, the sweet sunshiny association, but the flower itself was sort of underwhelming, not enough color, she’d said. That never stopped people from getting her things with Daisies on them though. She’d told him about how the gifts usually ended up shoved in cupboards or stuck in storage. Only pulled out when she needed to make a show of using the them for the giver, or used as a backup when something else breaks or is ruined until she can replace the item in question with something with a different pattern.

The thought had been something of a fond memory, a quiet respite amid the louder chaos of the archives. And looking at that curtain the thought had suddenly hit him that it would never happen again. 

 He knows he scared Martin when he’d curled over that little piece of scrap fabric, clinging to it like a child. But once he’d started the tears he found he just couldn’t stop. Like a dam had finally broken and he was drowning in the feelings stuck behind it. Unable to so much as speak between the choked gasping sobs.

 Martins arms are wrapped solidly around him now as he leans back against the arm of the couch. His legs are draped across the cushions, he’d positioned the two of them so Jon was curled up in his lap, leaning against his chest. He’d sat with him this whole time, while Jon cried. Patiently waiting until he’d gathered himself.

For what feels like the hundredth time since they’ve settled in the safehouse, Jon wonders how he could ever have not appreciated Martin for everything he does- and is.

 “I’m sorry.” He murmurs hoarsely. Turning his head slightly, breaking his staring contest with the scrap fabric on the coffee table to bury his face in Martin's chest. 

 “Jon- Don’t be. it’s fine. We’ve sort-of been through a lot lately, I think you’ve earned a good cry.” Martin says, carding his fingers through Jons hair. 

 “Thank you... I just-” Jon takes a shaky breath “I suppose the fact that she’s gone didn’t really... hit me. Until now.”

 Martin pauses.

 “Who- you mean Daisy?” He asks

 “I- yes. She was- we were-” Friends he trips on the word. They’d never really said it, that they were friends. But that’s what they were. As much as they could be considering the circumstances. “-close. After- after the buried.”

 There’s a pause, and Jon glances upwards at Martins face. His eyebrows are knit close and his lips pressed together in an expression Jon doesn’t quite have the energy to decipher.

 “What?”

 “Didn’t she, y’know, kidnap you? Throw you in a trunk with-”

 “Yes.” Jon cuts him off, the memory of Daisy throwing him into the back of her car alongside a corpse sits at the back of his mind like a threat “She did.”

 “Sorry- sorry. I just... I guess I know you two were friends but... I guess I find it hard to believe you just... forgave her? Just like that?” Jon can hear the way his voice pitches up in offence at the end of the sentence, always quick to defend Jons honour. He huffs.

 “I didn’t, actually.”

 Martin pauses.

 “I thought you said you were close.”

 “Yes, well. That doesn’t mean I forgave her for what she did- if I had to forgive everyone who's ever hurt me to care about them my life would have been significantly lonelier I think- And she... she didn’t expect me to.” He runs his finger idly over a loose thread of Martins Jumper “I don’t think we could have been friends if she had. And- I think she knew that. And besides that I know she knew that she- she didn't have the right to expect- or even ask me to forgive her.” 

 “Oh”

 “And it doesn’t mean I cared about her any less. It just- it just meant our relationship was more... complicated. And despite that I think...” He chuckles wryly “I think I could probably say with reasonable confidence that she was my best friend.” he tries for another laugh, but it comes out wobbly and far too close to a sob as tears he didn’t even know he had left in him threaten to fall.

 “I’m sorry, Jon” Martin says softly. Squeezing his shoulder gently with the hand that isn’t still running through his hair. “But... I mean- she’s not completely gone, is she? I mean you said yourself she’s still alive so-”

 “No.” Jon says softly. “I mean, she is alive. That much is true, but... She gave into the hunt. She had been fighting it for a long time and... she had to make a choice. The hunt or her humanity, and she chose the hunt. She- she chose it to keep us safe but- well. Intent doesn’t really translate that well when it comes to eldritch fear monsters. So technically she is alive. But... what’s left of her- its not Daisy. Not anymore. She’s gone.”

 “Oh.” Martin's voice sounds terribly small. Jon feels awful for dashing his hopes- even though they weren’t even his hopes to begin with. He’d only said that to make Jon feel better. “I’m sorry.”

 “Don’t be. It’s-” It’s not fine, so he doesn’t let himself say it is “It is what it is, I suppose.”

 “Yeah.”

 There’s a silence then, as both their eyes drift to the curtain. Jon knows Martin likely doesn’t have many- if any, pleasant memories of Daisy. But the mere act of trying to understand her importance to Jon is far more significant than he knows.

 In the absence of tears and memories he finds his eyelids drifting shut without his permission. There’s more to be said of course, more to talk about and more to feel. But the consequences of such an exhausting exercise in emotion weighs heavily on him, and for once, he thinks he can indulge in the luxury of rest. So he allows himself to just be wrapped up there for a moment. Exhausted but nonetheless safe. 

 Neither of them sleep well in the safehouse. It’s hardly a surprise, between the cacophony of horrors they’ve both faced over the past few years it’s really a shock they sleep at all. But that doesn’t make the long silent hours of the night when they’re both pretending to sleep for the others benefit any less grueling.

Martin isn’t sure if Jon knows just how little he sleeps, he lies still and quiet well enough. Partly in hopes that Jon will get some rest himself, and partly because he thinks that maybe if he acts like he’s asleep his brain will get the message.

It’s easy to tell when Jon is awake though, he thinks he’s being subtle. But he’s a terrible liar, and a worse actor. And he doesn't know that when he's really asleep he's still as the dead unless you try to move him, at which point he’ll cling as tight as he can to whatevers closest. Which is usually Martin nowadays. So Martin knows he’s not waking him when he speaks quietly into the darkness.

 “Have I ever told you about my mum?” His voice is low, just above a whisper even though it’s just the two of them.

 Jon tenses in his arms, he likely hadn’t even realized Martin was awake. 

 He knows in theory this is hardly the best time for the conversation, but it’s harder to sort good choices from bad so late at night. When it’s practically morning and his head is so fogged with sleeplessness someone could tell him he’s dreaming and he’d believe them.

 “I- no. You haven’t” Jons voice is quietly bewildered, the volume matching Martin’s own tone. “I mean, I know you dropped out to take care of her, but that’s it.”

 Martin humms vacantly, resting his forehead against the crown of Jon's head. Jon has both legs wrapped around one of Martins own, one arm slung over his middle and the other pressed between them. It’s nice, he’s not sure he would be able to deal with the sleepless nights if it wasn’t for Jon curled around him like some sort of affectionate snake. And now the warm contact gives him the courage to continue speaking, to let the words jumble out as they may.

 “She... she never liked me y’know. I tried. I really did but- she got... it wasn’t her fault. My dad- he left, when she got diagnosed. And a-apparently I look just like him. And she... she didn’t like the reminder. A-and it made her say- say things. I suppose.” He takes a shaky breath “But I keep- I keep thinking about what you said about Daisy, h-how you don’t have to forgive someone to care about them...“

 He pauses, Jon doesn’t respond. Running his thumb over Martins shoulder blade, waiting. 

 “is it- is it bad if I can’t forgive my mum?” His voice sounds so small in his own ears. Jon pushes his head further into Martins chest, and sighs.

 “You do realize i’d be something of a hypocrite if I said it was” He says quietly.

 “Yea but, I mean... Daisy was different, wasn’t she? I-I mean- it wasn’t her fault what she did, all that stuff she said. She was- she was hurting. She didn’t-” He stops as Jon shifts, pulling his head back and unwrapping his arms from Martins chest, bringing his hands up to cup Martins face. Gently guiding his head until he’s looking Jon in the eye.

 “Martin- that’s not...you could probably make the same arguments for Daisy. That she didn’t know what she was doing, she didn’t mean to hurt people. But that doesn’t change the fact that she did.” He says seriously.“You don’t owe her your forgiveness. Not if she hurt you.”

 “But... she was my mum, Jon.”

 There’s a pause, Jon runs his thumb over Martins jawline. Martin can barely make out his expression in the faint moonlight. But he can tell he’s thinking.

 “Did I ever tell you I was raised by my grandmother?” He says softly after a long pause.

 “No, you didn’t”

 “Yes, well. My parents died... when I was very young. And she was the only living relative I had left. And while she did her best... well, it was clear she didn’t exactly- she was done raising children. And having one dropped in her lap wasn’t really in her retirement plan. She tried to hide it of course, but... I knew I wasn’t wanted.” He sighs “and that... was damaging. I think. And led to some things that... that weren’t her fault, but I still- it still hurts. I did love her, though. But I can’t forgive her for some of the mistakes she made in raising me. Intentional or not.”

 “Oh, Jon...”

 “You don’t owe your Mother your forgiveness, Martin. It doesn’t make you- ungrateful or bad to not forgive her. It just means she did things you can’t just, let go of. I-if that makes sense.”

 “I... Yeah. I think- it does. Yeah.” 

 There’s a silence, and Martin takes a moment to process the words. He’s not sure if he can use them yet, he never realized how much time he’s spent trying to force himself to forgive his mother for... everything. He knows it’ll be a hard habit to break. But for now, he lets them sit  comfortably in his chest. Curling back around Jon, who sighs into his shirt.

 “Thank you, Jon.” He says softly.

 “Of course.”

 He wishes he could say they both drifted off into an easy sleep after that, but the sleeplessness holds fast until the sun is nearly up. And they find themselves stumbling around the kitchen like every morning, sleep deprived and clumsy. The night's conversation not entirely forgotten, but unimportant in the face of breakfast. 

There’s more to talk about of course, there always will be. He thinks. But for now it’s enough to just be there, together in that cramped barely-functional kitchen. Simply enjoying each others presence.

Always. It’s a thought that hasn’t occurred to him before, but now. Even as sleep deprived and clumsy and miserable as they are in the cramped house. They’re together. And it feels like something they could have. An always. Maybe not here, but together all the same.

Martin watches Jon curse as the milk he pours into his cereal hits the spoon and ricochets onto his shirt. Soaking through even as he tries to wipe it off with his sleeve.

  Always has never seemed so promising.

[seoafin]

jjk & tower of god chapter on the same day,,, i spent all of my brainjuice talking abt tog w some friends + working on my wip so this one might be incoherent LMAO but nsjdhfjd this my 2 cents for the chp (1) - 🐱

first of all, the zenins shld just eat shit 🥰 the bar is just nonexistant now 😭😭😭

also maki’s mother said sth that hits way too close to home for me too🥴

the maki & mai, megumi & tsumiki "make a place where they are happy” parallels...mai,, maki wanted a place where u'd be happy!!! 😭😭😭 good points abt any interesting nuances the original jpn might have had though

ALSO MUSCLE MAKI IS HERE

and lmao megumi's "ew no" face ,,, i didn't think he could make a face like that JDJJDJD ,, once again i think his outsider-insider status is interesting but the amount of ppl counting on him/leaning on him bc of strategic position is a lot. ig this is what kamo meant by supporting the 3 families,,,, gojou indeed is playing the long game. megumi in the meantime, very persistent in not getting more involved in clan politics, not using power that is offered to him, or leveraging it - in a way it is good, and it also makes sense with "stress is other ppl" but is interesting from a structural pov. megumi may not rly give a shit abt the rest of the jujutsu world. if the ppl close to him are affected, then he cares. otherwise, forget it.

also im interested in power implications here bcs it sound a little like there’s a slight split b/w leadership and everyday zenins and im curious what it's like if u have no connection to the top of the clan,, and again higher ups being unaffiliated with the 3 clans so they have to appeal to them. curious what other talents the gojou clan have and what they're known for bc clearly it's not just gojou, they still have power without him and still have a stake in the shifting power structure. kamo must be busy too...

MAKIIIIII ,,, honestly my heart hurts a little seeing her getting beat up in recent chapters. but i’m rly happy,, shes FINALLY getting the focus she deserves and i’m confident she will make a recovery and she IS in fact the one leading efforts on the zenin side. im rly hopeful she can take over the clan one day and no longer say she's not good enough

that stomach wound is bad news though so im wondering how she will come back from that,, that she didn't know her own father's abilities says a lot, too. i wonder if she could see the extension of his blade, or if she hasn't been able to see/understand many ppl abilities

im hopeful for next chp now. u can do it maki!!!!

flashing back on these bits, it makes more sense now why megumi wasn't melting down post-shibuya,, seems most information came to him in a sort of timely and calm way? also i rly have to wonder if gojou did not spend a decade plotting in front him bcs he's done it before,,,, like the whole clan head scene in megumi's middle school years....in a way i imagine he wouldve seen that gojou come out of the high school and watch him get more serious as he acquired even more skin in the game

all the time though i wonder abt megumi's tendency toward inertia and nonaction to things that would seemingly give him power and trying to understand it and that IS him being selfish and that IS,, imo the biggest indication of what he actually does or doesn't want. he wants it, he will act and work on it immediately himself. he doesn't like it? act like it doesn't exist. it make me want to shake him around like NO!! megumi pay attention!!! But his reaction to this clan stuff is a contrast to his behavior in recent chapters imo

and more mahjong references,,, between this and yuuji’s pachinko,, i wonder abt the undercurrent of gambling haha. a gamble for the shaman world and who will come out on top? a contrast to the flowy ocean imagery that connects shaman stuff out to the rest of the world

also this ,,,, there's that one jp tweet (i cant find it again😞) that talks about how toji, as the point of distortion, created megumi, who is currently playing a potential convergence/healing/uniting role (if he actually takes it on as a responsibility lol) and connects this back to the medicine buddha,,, whose mudra (hand sign) is used for chimera shadow garden. with the commentary abt ppl with heavenly restriction needing to know what to throw away in order to become strong or tap into their full strength and toji’s commentary at the end of fight with gojou,,  i actually always felt that toji died not having been entirely resolved with himself bc he talks abt going against the self that decided to forget abt self-respect, to live without thinking abt himself or others,,, in a way, living selfishly, for himself, by ignoring anything immediate and i think he succeeded for a while bc he didnt even remember megumi's name. he remembers it when he talks to getou abt him being thankful for toji not killing him bc of potential drawbacks

and at the very end he thinks of megumi again and that last act does think of someone else, like a "life before your eyes" moment where toji thinks about how the zenin's treatment of him led him there or how his return to shibuya ends with him remembering how he gave megumi back to the zenin,,, i think atm of his death he was starting to think he did want to care, in a different way, or that he needed a different paradigm. or,, maybe he was just starting to realize how far the zenin thinking had set into him

so we dont rly talk abt that being an enlightenment moment for toji but i kind of think it was. that megumi has the potential to become a pivotal piece as a legacy of distortion is interesting. i dont actually think toji set up everything intentionally bc he didnt know megumi's ability, and i dont think he wouldve thought that far. i think a lot of the heir and inheritance stuff is sth naobito set in after seeing megumi's development under gojou. it's clear now everyone has been keeping eyes on everyone else

at some point there's some interesting discussion to be had abt megumi and privilege - i'm surprised the canon characters dont hate him more for having stuff just fall into his lap, and so i liked that maki pointed this out that he could use this and he shld bc theres a frustration there - and yet at the same time megumi himself seemingly feels very little attachment to the zenin and the shaman world still. he just cares abt his little circle of people, and it's a very intentional choice, based on his good/bad ppl thing

u cant really affect the entire world, but u can assert urself on the environment around u and decide what u do and dont act on. this part of megumi is more teenage boy and kind of toji-like, i think,,, hence the emphasis on action

u express ur effect and existence through action, who u kill or who u save. toji having very little, while so much falls into megumi's lap while he doesn't want it, doesn't want to acknowledge it, likely doesn't want to take part in a system he doesn't like or, having been raised under gojou's wing, resents or finds corrupt or useless, or doesn't even think on bc he thinks its above his pay grade and gojou's there - this is also megumi's moment to solidify his own direction and commit to working in the system or out of it

the "not caring" is a defensive measure in a way too, i think. i dont think megumi is Big Good and wants to save everyone and everything and the world to be good and pure, i tend to think of him as a resigned chaotic neutral, who wishes he could be good orz

ANYWAY i think there's some interesting juxtapositions with the whole toji > megumi thing, that someone who is born without, restricted, births and creates someone full of blessings. its very shaman-like, action then reaction

AND i wish u luck on ur final paper (bless ur eyes to see incels bc i’ll just log off for the day when i saw one (1) of them on the net) AND DONT FORGET TO TAKE A REST,, the self care is much needed me thinks <333 (2) - 🐱

i love u 🥺🥺😭😭😭 you take care of yourself too!!!

also ur right...all this political intrigue im so curious i need to know how the jujutsu world is structured in terms of the higher ups and the clans. like i assumed that the three clan elders WERE to some extent also part of the higher ups???? but now it seems that the higher ups are a separate entity altogether, so like checks and balances i suppose. except both the higher ups and the clans are corrupt so no balance there 😭

the chapter implied the zenins are losing when it comes to the power struggle between the three clans. im interested. i want to see them all rot!!! like i also said though it’s going to be interesting to see the state of the kamo clan though, considering “noritoshi kamo.” like what do you even say to that???? im going to be surprised if it doesn’t affect their standing in the jujutsu world but then again the kamo clan IS one of the big three.

megumi really is a character that was blessed in all regards but like. doesn’t want anything to do with it LOL he really said ‘this is a pain no thanks.’ like gojo like megumi i suppose. i agree with u the whole toji and megumi set up....genius....i also love their juxtaposition. it’s so interesting and another source of irony.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

so being abused the entire first 2 decades of your life: what’s up with that? Night Posts Edition

- classic when finding some “uh oh relatable!” content abt various Disorderres and there’s some thing like “many symptoms overlap with ptsd” and it’s like ooh which one is applying to me?? i mean spoilers the idea that The Grouping Of Non Nt Traits And Experiences Into Distinct Classifications is not actually...an exact science and for all intents and purposes it makes no difference if i am going “oh god #me” at an informative post about adhd if actually its ptsd acting exactly the same anyways so. but yknow it’s wild n zany being like “am i overstepping my bounds b/c this was caused by coping with trauma possibly? what audacity” and etc when it really....that doesnt matter....

- also ugh @ retaining things that downplay abusers’ responsibility for their actions (in specific things you’re personally dealing with, not like, as a general stance) and shift blame onto yourself like........you have to get so used to treating someone’s Abusive Behavior as something inevitable that you can’t ever expect them to stop doing, and thus pretty much considering someone abusive like a force of nature because they’re just gonna do what they’re gonna do whenever they next get Set Off rather than like.......a person who is responsible for their own behavior and in control of their own choices and like. especially zany when you’re a kid and they’re your parent so there’s the Power Imbalance of them being an adult and the other power imbalance of them being in control of your whole existence. but so like even just the other year i was taking the blame for calmly speaking back to a grownass man close to thrice my age raging at me and saying like, not verbatim but the idea of like “ugh i know it was partly my fault for even saying anything back to him because i knew he’d just continue to yell but unfortunately i just refuse to weather that kind of behavior without standing up for myself at all anymore” but like no!!!! that’s shifting all the responsibility for this other person’s behavior onto myself, like i Made him choose to shout at me at like 4am because he sucks and has some kind of superiority power trip issues. cuz i am well within rights to respond to anyone addressing me and it’s Not my fault at all that he chooses to react the way he reacts. 

- also that i was ready to excuse my being blamed for this by others because they were closer to that person than they were to me and i was gonna be like “okay i Get wanting to defend someone who’s closer to you” but no!!!! actually!!!! i may get it but i don’t condone excusing anyone’s horrible behavior in the least just cuz you know them or they’re friends or family or something. in fact that’s terrible. i’m just primed to be Used To It because of the weird situation of parental abuse where there’s other people also trapped in this location and daily life with an abuser and if someone “causes” the abuser to start being shitty then they’ll get blamed / resented for that. me and my siblings seem more like friendly acquaintances b/c we had to be pitted against each other in these kinds of ways for eons until we were all in our teens and got some more Space and kind of realized that we weren’t each others enemies and got closer and my dumb little brother was old enough to stop being a whiny binch and Owed me for helping him with math hw over the phone from 2 hrs drive away lol.....jk, sort of.....we did get along great eventually but then i left thanks to said abuse and us talking via twitter isn’t at all the same as us being able to talk in person :/

- also one thing that sometimes Strikes me is that when i’m like blandly recalling incidents of abuse like “oh yeah, that time” it bothers me less to think about stuff that happened to me specifically than to think about times it was Other people who were being treated that way. the latter was always equally or probably more upsetting and it always felt just as bad in the moment anyways, there was no major distinction in the Abuse In Progress experience if it was directed mostly on you than on other people

- all my life i’ve also been super stubborn which never helped and even Abuse MaGee would have to try to get creative with Disciplinary Systems and there was this golden “punishment” which was eat dinner in your room by yourself and i was like oh my god can i really. the horror of Family Dinner was like, this dark comedic farce playing out in that house for all our lives. christ. speaking of being stubborn this one time my sister cut my toe with a knife (half accidentally) because i refused to stop swinging my legs despite her holding the knife under the table lol and i also refused to tell on her b/c we were All In This Together (that is, Us vs The Abuser, which always took precedence over any internal conflict in our faction lol)

- always remembering how my “’”””””””defining”””””””””” trait was always getting good grades except the only reason i ever felt this pressure was the time my sister caught shit for getting a C, and i wasn’t even getting A - F letter grades yet and was already like jfc guess i can’t like....get a single C ever.....the joke is i’ve always been a godawful student who hates school, i just also managed to get great grades fairly easily, b/c of the devil probably. i’m sorry

- love to wonder what interests i might have been able to explore if i didn’t want to hide anything i was genuinely interested in and other True Thoughts And Feelings from my ‘rents. who knows!!! even now i’m not sure what i like and my vague ideas about it are all mostly In Theory and i don’t have any hopes and dreams b/c of never being able to really consider my own interests and desires and also because when every day of your life is basically spent in survival mode about everything else, that’s not really conducive to having dreams and ambitions. see also: like, being really poor

- The Weird Experience when only one of your parents is abusive and the other parent is also experiencing spousal abuse and so like, even though they’re your parent, you know that they don’t really have equal power as the abusive one because they too are being abused? it’s a complicated thing b/c that’s how every individual experience with abuse is (complicated). and so you’ve got this bizarre situation where maybe someone cares about you but they can’t really protect you from this other person. and like, my dad is crap and in some areas even a crappier person than my abusive mom and also i hate him, but i only hate him for certain things lmao not for being abused or some ways he tried to deal with it. i know what’s trash and what’s not

- the zany experience of No One Will Help You Ever.....lucky for me i eventually figured out on my own that what i’d been living with all the time had actually been abuse for real all along! and yet still i knew that like, there wasn’t much i could immediately do with that information because..........yknow, what do you actually do. i was basically already 18, so. and even if i hadnt been. there’s nothing to do for it!! just sucks to be you, basically. but an exception is that when one day i texted my friend to ask if i might be able to leave my house overnight and crash at their family’s place for a little bit, their parents immediately were like Yes Of Course and they let me stay there for a week and were very nice about all of it. between them and the nice trans lady who gave me some more Housing Assistance by letting me stay in her spare room for like, most of december.....my Allies. plus someone who talked to me via online once i bailed on my ‘rents! if they read this they know who they are and they have continued to be so kind and generous ugh love and appreciate you

- god just individual occasions of “THIS bullshit that i went through this one time” of especially ridiculous incidents.....i could go on for eons

- sort of tangentially related and related to the first point but ugh specific memories of Moments In Which It Continued To Be Revealed To Me That I, Individually, Was Prone To Being Kind Of Socially Ostracized.....like my ass started noticing that shit as soon as i was around other kids aka preschool aka 4 yrs old.......like i’m usually somewhat withdrawn and cautious and quiet in social situations especially what with the association that “misbehaving” = trauma exposure so, yknow, that might be a way that you’re pressured into just keeping to yourself and keeping your head down. but talk about “i don’t really relate to other people my age” lmao like i always preferred interacting with adults really while by and large dealing with the other kids felt like a challenge that i was never gonna actually come out on top of and i still remember individual Efforts i’d make to ~fit in~ and Participate that just fell flat or got me actively excluded....Ugh City........and it’s like, i could make a list of Social Traits i think i have that help make it difficult for people to be interested in interacting with me, or “contribute” to those joyous occasions when you get to sit back and take in the thinly veiled contempt directed at you by various shitheads, but like, even that’s not really the right way to explain it. its kind of more a Greater Than The Sum Of Its Weird Parts sorta combined experience where i guess i just have this kind of Negative Je Ne Sais Quoi that gets ya the social brushoff / rejection. c’est ce que c’est. the joke is i actually like people and socializing In Theory, i just usually don’t get to do it. shoutout to the advanced relatability of alana calling everyone Acquaintances b/c i literally did/do that lmao......like are we friends if we don’t talk all that often? it’s part on me cuz i’m crap at being the person to initiate conversation cuz too often i assume i’d be an annoyance and also b/c conversation with me is like, not great lmao but still......ce’st l’a v’ie

anyways (clip from that fuckin song where it’s like WHO CAN RELATE lmao.mp3)

[cfcblogadmin-blog]

Thanksgiving Service | 5/1/19

Hey GoP, 

Welcome to 2019 errybodyyy! Our first service of the year was a Thanksgiving Service in the Thanksgiving Hall ;) where we look back and said goodbye to 2018 by sharing the things that we were thankful for throughout the year. 

Shujing also shared a word on how we should always be giving thanks regardless of the current circumstance and whether or not we have seen a miracle happen yet. 

Feeding of the Five Thousand

But he answered, “You give them something to eat.”

They said to him, “That would take more than half a year’s wages[a]! Are we to go and spend that much on bread and give it to them to eat?”

“How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.”

When they found out, they said, “Five—and two fish.”

 Then Jesus directed them to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties.Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to distribute to the people. He also divided the two fish among them all. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces of bread and fish. The number of the men who had eaten was five thousand.     - Mark 6: 30-44

In the story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand, the disciples had had a long day. They were supposed to be withdrawing to the countryside to rest but then were followed by a huge crowd. The massive gathering was unplanned and in the middle of nowhere, with no nearby places to get food. When the crowd got hungry, the disciples were hungry too, yet there were only 5 loaves and 2 fishes to be shared. 

The situation wasn’t looking good at this point, yet Jesus gave thanks for what little they had, before the miracle had happened. In this story, the miracle only happened after thanks was given and in the same way there are situations in life where we need to continue giving thanks despite the situation in faith that the miracle is coming up. 

Shujing also made a comparison between the Feeding of the Five Thousand and the Last Supper. During the Feeding of the Five Thousand, an unfavourable situation had been turned around by Jesus, the powerful, miracle-working teacher. However, at the Last Supper, a festive mood where the disciples were eating a big meal quickly turned sour as Jesus became the suffering, rejected servant. When we follow Christ, we identify not just with the powerful, miracle-working teacher that He can be but also with the suffering, rejected servant that He chose to become for our sake. Therefore, as Christian, we should continue to be tenkful regardless of miracle or persecution.  

Testimonies/Thanksgiving

Carlos (Chozone) 

Firstly, I’d like to thank my cell leader Keith. When I think of what kind of man I aspire to be, it'd be Keith. He's that much of a role model to me. Not because he lifts weights and is super smart but really because of his heart for others. Whenever I share with him what I have on my head or am troubled, he always puts in max effort in replying and giving me advice and doesn't belittle whatever I say, even if its as lame as me being insecure about my braces or who I have a crush on. But more than that, he treats me like a brother rather than some kid who is 8 years younger than him. I really cannot express how blessed I am to have such an amazing leader like Keith. I love you bro even though you're in the US right now, and thank you so much for showing and teaching me how to really be a man of God.

I also want to thank Faithe Poh. The person who tolerates my nonsense the most. My blueticked messages, emo phases and etc. I gave a her a really hard time. But thats why I love and appreciate her so much. She laughs with me and cries with me. When I was going through a really tough season in my life, she just kept encouraging me and praying for me. Honestly, theres really nothing much else I can say about her. She's just amazing. Replying my texts in the middle of her night shift, even if they’re stupid. She came all the way to Toa Payoh to watch and support me during competition, sends me Bible verses, before my school year starts and is just genuinely curious and wants to know about whats going in my life . So, Faithe, thank you so so so much!! Thank you for not making our relationship that of cell kid to leader but as friends, for always being proud of me and loving me even when I've slipped and for showing me that being a leader is more than just the title.

Lastly I want to thank all the other Chozone leaders: Serene, Eli, Jade, Joy, Ben, Lizzy, Angie, Beli and our zone leader Chloe. Thank you for investing the time and effort serving in GOP despite being super busy with school and work. We love y'all and are glad to have you guys as leaders. 

Esther (Chozone) 

I am really thankful for Beli, who was my cell leader this year. She has really been taking care of me. Although sometimes she is busy, she would force herself to text me. I have to admit that in the past when she texted me, I felt annoyed and didn't text her back on time. But she still continued to text me. At the beginning of 2018, I didn’t really like to pray and I told my mother about that.Thank God for my mother, because she told Beli about it. So Beli has always been asking me to pray during cell and share during cell and now I really see the improvement. (now i take initiative to pray and to share!) For devo too, I always do 2 to 3 days late.I dont really like to do devos but Beli always asks me, if  I had done my devo. That made me guilty so I did it. But, I’ve noticed that it really help me spiritually.

I am very grateful for Beli for being my cell leader. And I also want to thank all my other leaders, Ben, Eli, Faithe, Serene, Angie, Chloe, Keith, Ave and Jade for supporting and taking care of all of us. I really appreciate your hard work.

Leah (Chozone)

I am thankful for Ave. I have known her since 2015, when we met at church camp and she brought my friend and I around. Although we were very fussy with her, she still continued and continues to be a shining light by checking up on me, guiding me through tough times and always being there for me as well as not judging me.

I am also thankful for Beiying. As a photographer from VAM, Beiying has been a great leader! She has taught me so much from positioning to camera settings. She comes from a position of friendship instead of a superior which is one of the key points of leadership, she inspires me to be the best photographer, that I can be. 

Evan (Jarrold Zone)

I’m here to share my testimony on how we should always be faithful and trust God in reaching out to our friends. As yall know, during GOP camp last year, my friend Dhilan got saved so really PTL! I have been reaching out to Dhilan for a really long time- since sec1. Whenever I talked to him about church in the past, he would always be very uninterested and always try to change the subject. Sometimes he would get really mad if I kept asking him if he wanted to come for our parties in church. This lasted till the end of sec 1. In sec 2 at the start of the year, I felt God telling me that in that year, He was going to save a very good friend of mine. When I heard that, I was really excited because I looked at all the friends whom I've been reaching out to in sec 1 and they were quite responsive. So at the start of sec 2, I was reaching out to all these other people but they all started saying no which is like the complete opposite of last year. So during the June holidays, I got to think about what God said a bit more and at that time, I was very confused and disappointed because i thought those people I reached out to in sec 1 who were responsive were going to be more responsive by coming to church for service and not just parties. I told this to OT and he encouraged me to continue to be faithful and trust in what God has told me at the start of the year. So I started thinking of the list of people that I had tried to invite in sec 1 but didn’t come and I thought of Dhilans name. And I didn’t speak to Dhilan about church or Christianity for half a year because I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. But I was reminded that i have already planted the seed in Dhilan and I felt that God wanted me to talk to Dhilan again about church and inviting him to outings. after the June holidays, i started to be more intentional in showing Dhilan God's love by like blessing him with a free drink or helping him more in his weaker subjects. So when we had VS cell on a Thursday, I asked Dhilan if he wanted to come and see what was going on. I already prepared myself for the rejection and was going to say  “Nevermind then" but praise the lord because he said he wanted to come. During that cell he was really quiet, but I knew that God was beginning to let the seed I planted to grow. I started praying and doing fasts for God to continue speaking to my friend and to really touch my friends heart. So when we had our guys ministry outing to Sentosa, I invited him and my other friend who isn’t christian to come along because he was scared it would be awkward. At the end of the day, i was really encouraged because He said that he had a lot of fun and that we were very warm and welcoming. So I knew God was really doing something in his heart and I began to be really excited. 

So finally it was GOP camp and I felt God ask me to invite Dhilan again, and again Dhilan said yes! But he could come only on the last 2 days but in my heart I thought at least he's coming for ps mark's service haha. And true enough, during Pastor Mark's service, he was asking me a lot of questions and I was happy about that because he doesnt usually ask me abt anything I tell him about Christianity. When Pastor Mark gave an alter call, I responded and I was so shocked because I saw Dhilan responding as well and he was kneeling down. At that moment, I felt God tell me to ask him if he wanted to say the sinner's prayer and he said yes immediately. So i brought him to Junwei and after he explained what it means to say the sinner's prayer, Dhilan still said yes. Until now, I’m still really amazed of how Dhilan got saved! I also really want to thank you guys for being so warm and loving to him that I know played a part in him being saved. He even posted about us on his Instagram which is like sooo shocking for me. He said," Hey guys I just want this post to be about how grateful and blessed i am to have been able to be with u guys.. like thanks soo much for welcoming me into the family and everything..u guys are already like my second family :heart: Also um special thanks to Evan for inviting me haha.. it really impacted me so much:heart::heart:" 

No words can describe really how I felt about Dhilan's salvation. Like how He can use me to change someone's life and how he can really speak to people and touch their lives. I would like to encourage everyone that has been reaching out to their friends for a long time or even if you've just started to never give up. Even if you don’t know if whatever you said or did impacted your friends, remember this “For we live by faith, not by sight.”, 2 corinthians 5:&7. Trust in God and continue to be faithful to Him and be the Jesus to His people. I want to end of with a verse that I hope will encourage you, just like how it encouraged me. 

I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth. So then neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who causes the growth. 8 Now he who plants and he who waters are one; but each will receive his own reward according to his own labor

-  1 Corinthians 3:6-8  (NASB)

Andrew

I want to honour and thank Kat, my cell leader, cause she has really been there for every step of the way. During Ascension, she really did her best as an IC and I'm really proud and thankful that she really gave her all and I'm really inspired by her testimony about her family and struggles. Seeing her praising and worshiping God despite the problems she faces, really ignited the fire inside me to also give God my all despite my issues. She is one of the best Cell Leaders I could ask for, she is super caring, kind, loving and funny. She would never fail to pray for us or be there for us. Thanks Kat for being there for me!!!!

Kym 

I would like to thank Terryin, like even as a zone leader she really cares for everyone a lot and make sure everyone’s okay. I was talking to her about other things and she just checked on me and asked me how’s my first day of sch and I told her about it and I’ll just say it was really bad, I didn’t like it at all. but she was willing to talk to me about it at 1am+ and made sure I was feeling okay and everything. She even recorded her prayer for me and it honestly helped me a lot so thank you Terryin!

[clumsyclifford]

i'll ask u so much u'll regret reblogging that ask game: 2, 3, 4 for neon weekend, 8 for brazil fic (ABSOLUTELY use this as an excuse to talk about brazil...), 3 and 13 for baby driver, and 2 and 8 for accapella au xoxo, arbor day/iba/muke whoever the fuck I am

oh my god okay this got lengthy so im putting a cut but just know that i honestly love you for this

also:

ask me about any of my fics!!

more than just a neon weekend

2: What scene did you first put down? the very first one!! weirdly enough i wrote the first scene first but then almost the whole rest of the fic was written out of order which i really don’t make a habit of doing so if its choppy thatll be the reason why

3: What’s your favorite line of narration? everyone basically mentioned this line in comments n stuff about the fic which i was really chuffed about because i actually put Thought into it but anyway:

He’s tempted to say something, weighed too heavily down by the silence in the room, the glare of the strip lights around the walls of this hotel, too. But there’s nothing Luke could possibly say that wouldn’t ruin this; even goodnight feels out of place. So he breathes out, exhaling the last of the strain from his chest, and shifts Calum closer to him. They fall asleep like that, exceedingly warm, deceptively well-matched, puzzle pieces stolen from different puzzles.

before u even get to the puzzle pieces line you have the part about how there’s nothing luke could say that wouldnt ruin it, not even goodnight, and i really like that too, but then u get to this metaphor that i honestly think i was possessed when i wrote it because it really is exactly the feeling i wanted to create? things that do fit together but for all intents and purposes shouldn’t fit together. very proud of that one im not going to lie. im also gonna toss in this one:

"I slept with someone I shouldn't have," he admits, pink-cheeked just thinking about it. Ashton either isn't surprised or does a good job hiding it; Luke thinks maybe he should be offended by that.

cos of luke being like well i slept w someone i shouldnt have and ashton having ZERO reaction and luke being like......you could at least PRETEND to be surprised GKJDFKGJDSF ALSOOOOO oh god im really proud of a lot of lines in this arent i well these two are from the same scene so im putting them together as one

Calum breathes out, exhaling the smoke into the air, and Luke wonders how he became the kind of person who romanticized smoking, even though he knows the answer is standing just before him, slumped against the brick. 

[...] Luke wonders if he’d breathe easier filling his lungs with smoke; surely even that must be better than filling them with nothing at all. 

really not a fan of smoking and dont like when it gets super romanticized in stories but the truth is that when u fancy someone ur gonna romanticize what they do but i still felt like i needed to acknowledge that its not the kind of thing i normally WOULD romanticize so put luke’s lil comment there as a disclaimer of sorts

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? aha i actually have an answer!

Luke’s nerves are all on fire; he tilts his head back against the wall, baring his throat, and Calum leans in and whispers, “It’s just sex, Luke. Means nothing to me if it’s nothing to you.”

gets repeated a lot of times throughout the fic because i dont really know why tbh i just like how its constructed and........yeah

brazil fic

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it? WELL!! real EVENTS? yes actually the world cup of 2014 inspired it in part even though lets not tell tales here most of the inspiration was me going god im dying to write a fic about brazil how can i justify this. once i figure out how to justify writing a jewish fic its over for you bitches ANYWAY. the events in the fic itself arent really inspired by events in my life since as previously mentioned Nothing Ever Happens To Me but. there are THINGS in the fics taken from my life. for example like i said the grocery store, Zona Sul, is the grocery store my family went to. and the pizza place they go to, Vezpa? BEST pizza ever been there so many times. also i did mention this already as well but the line about the sunset melting into all these different colors is straight from my memory of watching the sunset one time. and obviously every single word in portuguese.....banheiro was one of the first ones i knew (obviously, crucial word). i liked having calum (who’d been to brazil before) and ashton (who was very enthusiastic abt it) in the fics to use as kind of vehicles for my own like.....LOOK WHAT I KNOW ABOUT BRAZIL compulsion like for example when calum points out dois irmãos i was like theres no reason michael would know that but i know that and i want to share it. sugarloaf, for the record, is called pão de açucár (literally means sugarloaf) but i felt like having calum know that was maybe overkill lol. also fun fact when i lived there i lived right next to the smaller mountain of dois irmãos we had a lovely view SO yeah you got me rambling about brazil i dont even know if i answered the question lets move on

baby driver fic

3: What’s your favorite line of narration? okay im just scrollin thru the fic so ill probably stumble across a couple others but this is one of my absolute favorites

“Am I living it right?” Calum asks, in time with John Mayer, although he knows he isn’t.

cant really explain why i just really really love how it ties the music calum listens to with his place in the world and how his music really reflects his thoughts and moods and is like such a lens through which he views the world

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading? WHAT A QUESTION well interestingly enough i dont typically listen to music while writing fic but i did a lot of musical research for this one so i could get a vast enough array of songs meaning i was listening to a lot of music while writing but what should READERS listen to?? well i am SO glad you asked iba because the answer is this handy playlist i made with all of the songs that get referenced in the fic!!! i have to say even separate from the fic itself this playlist is fucking GOOD like the range......the emotion.........yeah if u listen in order u may ascend fair warning

acappella au fic

2: What scene did you first put down? the first one, probably. first fic i ever wrote for the fandom!! but it was some time ago and i honestly don’t like, Remember, but i typically write in chronological order so i assume i just started from the beginning

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it? oh my god SO many. the entire first bass acappella group is HEAVILY based on the all-male acappella group at my school. the songs they say they perform are stolen from that group. ALSO, in MY acappella group i sing bass (mine’s all-female so u know), so all of those references are from me. the pizza place that’s open til 2am? straight from my campus. the acappella showcase at the very beginning, up to and including calum’s reaction to it, are all straight from my life. the chaotic group chat is largely inspired by the one my acappella group has together w the all-male group. the performance in the student center. literally the scene where calum gets drunk and then has to go sit outside on the front stoop even though it’s drizzling? direct from my first experience drinking. and the scene with michael walking calum home and then they kiss and then it’s really awkward?? took it from something that happened to my friend. that entire fic is just things from my life. it is embarrassingly projected

[dragimal]

In the devilman manga how sincere were miki's feelings for akira? Maybe I'm missing something but her feelings seemed kind of shallow.

first off, it’s been a couple years since I’ve read the og Dman manga, and I don’t necessarily feel like skimming back over it rn, so I’m gonna go off my memories of the events and initial impressions. take what I say next as u will based on that disclaimer

anyways, I think that depends on how you read the intentions behind og Miki’s actions. first, let’s go over some of her actions towards og Akira:

- Miki bullied pre-Amon Akira for being soft

- Miki instigated fights w/ bullies, but instead of holding her own, she actively pulled pre-Amon Akira into the fights and expected him to protect her. for context on Akira’s end: Akira just wanted both of them to run away so neither of them would get hurt. it’s not like he would run away and leave Miki to fend for herself

- Miki wasn’t the slightest bit worried or even confused when post-Amon Akira made an appearance, and continuously told him how she liked the “new Akira”

I think there are two main ways u can read Miki’s driving intentions for these actions: selfishly-driven vs. improvement-driven. I’m guessing ur here b/c of my Crybaby review, so ur prolly aware that I fall into the selfish-driven camp of thought

so if u interpret Miki as selfishly-driven, then she either 1) was an incredibly impulsive instigator who was all bark but no bite (at least in the beginning of the series– standing up for herself rather than relying on Akira to protect her was a big part of her growth as a character. but the point stands that her initial attitude was different), or 2) for some reason she was SET on dating Akira, but Akira didn’t fit her standards, so instead of trying to find a guy that actually fit her standards, Miki tried to morph Akira into what she wanted

I’m more inclined to believe the latter of these two– that she wanted Her Version of Akira. Miki was definitely impulsive, but I don’t think she was necessarily dumb enough to start fights just for the sake of starting fights. plus, some fights were totally worth her being pissed over– she just wouldn’t back down when things were clearly getting too dangerous 

anyways, in this interpretation, she just wanted a strong-willed, beefy Akira to sweep her off her feet, so she pushed Akira into situations where he was forced to buck up or die get injured. then, when Akira merged w/ Amon, Miki got exactly what she wanted, w/o considering HOW the “new Akira” came to be. of course she couldn’t have known the horrific situation that led to Devilman, or that Akira was truly different at a fundamental level, but she could have been a little concerned? curious maybe? like it was painful to hear her talk abt “new Akira” as if pre-Amon Akira meant nothing to her, and that Akira didn’t have to go through a deeply traumatic experience to become Devilman

now, on the complete flip side, if Miki is interpreted as improvement-driven, then she just wanted to see Akira come out of his shell. she saw how pre-Amon Akira was a doormat and got hurt b/c of his fears of fighting back. she wanted Akira to get stronger and more assertive for his own well-being (tho her preferences were prolly still a bonus here, lmao). thus, when she met post-Amon Akira for the first time, she was delighted to see Akira was finally starting to stand up for himself and not let the world get to him. I believe this is where my friend @cobwebbing stands on the subject, so she might be able to elaborate more on this perspective

objectively, I can kinda see how someone could go for either interpretation. but personally, I just can’t see Miki as anything but selfishly-driven, b/c of the way certain interactions are framed, and the way she talks to both pre- and post-Amon Akira

but this doesn’t exactly answer your question abt her feelings: is og Miki’s love for Akira sincere? that’s the tricky thing– I think her feelings are totally sincere no matter what interpretation u go with

I don’t think Miki would have risked life and limb (literally) for Akira if she didn’t truly dearly love him (and even more importantly, if that love was only as recent as post-Amon Akira). now, love could refer to platonic or romantic, but Miki was clearly into Akira throughout, so I don’t think the romantic part of that equation is in question either. there is no doubt in my mind that Miki loved Akira, someway somehow

that’s the thing that I think few ppl truly grasp abt relationships (and more importantly, relationships w/ potentially abusive dynamics): love and abuse are not mutually exclusive

I’m not accusing og Miki of being an abuser necessarily, but she absolutely took abusive/degrading actions towards Akira (which may label her an abuser anyways, but I don’t think I’m qualified to just label a character something like that,,). she may have even thought she was improvement-driven when in reality she was selfishly-driven, which deluded her into thinking that she was doing what was best for Akira

but none of that MATTERS. the fact of the matter is she treated pre-Amon Akira like trash, and no amount of love or intention changes that. and this is where it gets personal: this is exactly what my mom is like

my mom would give the shirt off her back for me, sacrifice her very life for me w/o a moment’s hesitation. I’ve never doubted her love for me for even a second. that doesn’t change the fact that she hurt me– made me feel inferior, unimportant, guilty for even existing in a less-than-satisfactory manner to her standards. every conversation and interaction was centered on HER wants and HER needs; I barely had space to even voice my needs, much less wants or opinions. attention was a commodity I had to earn by doing things to her constantly-shifting standards, rather than a given b/c a mother’s attention shouldn’t be a commodity. she gave me mental/emotional scars I don’t think will ever fully heal, but by god did she let me know she loves me to death

love was never the issue w/ my mom and I, nor is it the issue w/ og Miki and Akira, imo

*FINAL DISCLAIMER* b/c fandom is just Like This nowadays: even if I was accusing Miki of being an abuser, I don’t care if ppl like og Miki, or og Miki/Akira. I make no moral judgments based on ppl’s fave characters/pairings; og Miki/Akira stuff just personally makes me Real Uncomfy. I might get heated talking abt it, but ultimately I don’t care what other fans are shippin’ lmao