#carrie .flow

[pb-s-corner]

CW: GORE + SICKNESS +my interpretation of .flow

[comatosebunny09]

I had a thought because you wrote about making out with Sylus an the rain and now it’s all I can think about

Sorry, not sorry. 😅😅😅

Can you tell I fantasize about it a lot? Rain is very symbolic to me. New beginnings, washing away old sins, providing cover for things we want to hide. Can symbolize happy or sad times. Ever since Sylus’ Lost Oasis card, I’ve been obsessed with seeing him with wet hair, too. I still melt when I reflect on that card.

Imagine this hulk of a man who’s all shoulders and danger, crowding you against the wall outside a mom-and-pop restaurant under its tattered awning, trying to shield you from the downpour. But it’s fruitless because your clothes are already sticking to you, and rain’s weighing your lashes down, and you’re freezing. But you’re laughing all breathless because you didn’t anticipate the weather shifting so abruptly, so you ran to the nearest structure for shelter like two kids about to get scolded by their mother.

When you’re this close, you notice everything. How warm he is. The pressure of his body even though he’s not pushing against you. How he smells, his warm musk intermingled with cologne and petrichor. Did he always have dimples? Were his lashes always this pretty and grey and full? Did his eyes always smolder like exhaling flames? Were his lips always this pink? Supple? Inviting?

The atmosphere shifts as his eyes fall to your mouth. Cars occasionally ease by, disturbing the puddles on the street. A pedestrian or two runs past, cursing and seeking refuge from the rain. Music from inside the restaurant thumps beneath your back pressed against the textured wall, but it doesn’t contend with the wild cadence of your heartbeat. Your pulse.

You want to kiss him so bad. You both want to kiss each other, the ache having plagued you both for what feels like eons. His gaze flits back up to study your eyes. He’s wordlessly asking for something. Permission. Offering you an out in case this isn’t what you want. Your breath corks in your chest. You’ll be more upset if he doesn’t kiss you right here and now.

You’re rarely one to initiate. But today, you make an exception. You’re moving on autopilot. Driven by desire alone as you curl your fingers in the collar of his shirt. Stand on tippy-toe, and he angles his neck to meet you the rest of the way, his massive hands perched on either side of your torso to keep from crushing you.

Your eyes slide shut as your mouths meet, and the world falls away. He sighs something barely-there and anguished as he kisses you. Something relieved. Like it’s been such a burden to hold himself back. To reel himself in. Can you blame him? You’re his Kryptonite. Make his chest all tight, and his heart skips a beat—all the cliches, all those love songs making sense.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he draws you closer until your body molds to his. Only the two of you seem to exist as the rain patterns the ground around you, thunder stirring in the distance to symbolize the shift in your relationship.

[chocostrwberry]

How does Felix in this au learn he’s a senti? How old was he, and how did he take it?

After the life-altering talk:

[weepynymph]

Penelope’s window 

Obviously the Featherington’s drawing room window looking out across the square to the Bridgerton’s house is a hugely significant part of this season (which is so fantastic because it’s been planted for two season straight now that’s she’s constantly sitting there - I love it!) but what about Pen’s bedroom window? 

On first watch I automatically assumed during the scenes where she’s sat at her bedroom window all day after her and Colin’s lessons are revealed to the ton that she was, as usual, looking out at the Bridgerton’s house. Especially because we immediately cut from this image to Colin looking out of HIS drawing room window towards the Featherington’s house. But then on second watch it struck me that her bedroom doesn’t look out over the square, its on the opposite side of the house, overlooking the gardens.

The best evidence I have for this is 2x08 where its looks as though Pen is watching the fireworks in her bedroom.

And during the scene in 3x02 from what I can see it’s mostly trees out there which doesn’t match up to the square at all so it’s got to be the back of the house.

So when she withdraws from society and hides in her room, it’s not the Bridgerton’s house she’s staring out at all day - it’s the garden. It’s the place where they made this disastrous plan, and the place where she heard Colin say he’d never court her.

Later that night when Colin meets her in the garden (God the symmetry is so GOOD) she describes herself as ‘a sad, stupid girl who believed she might possibly have a chance of love’ and I can’t help but be reminded of how crushed she was at the end of last season when she believed that things might finally be happening with Colin only to hear him completely reject the idea of ever courting her. 

I’d be willing to bet that she spent a good portion of that day in 3x02 staring out at the garden thinking about that night and punishing herself for having let herself hope, for having ‘brought this on herself’ again.

For Penelope, the drawing room window represents the hope that she might someday be with Colin. When she says to Debling in 3x04 she’s ‘grown tired’ of the view I think she means she’s grown tired of hoping for something that will never happen.

Whereas her bedroom window, I think, has come to represent the destruction of that hope (at least at this stage in her story). The only times we see her looking out of it are 2x08, and here in 3x02: moments when all hope is lost for her, not just in terms of being with Colin, but of finding love at all. Portia makes it pretty clear in this scene that the idea of Pen making a match is unrealistic, one could say, laughable.

And then where does Colin bribe Rae to bring Pen so they can have a moment alone? Not the front of the house or that little side entrance we see her meet Eloise at in season one (which would probably be more discreet to be honest), but the garden.

Whistledown’s narration is significant here too, she says: ‘a small taste of the light can lead to that most dangerous of emotions. Hope. And once hope is lost, a lady may become reckless.’ They are literally standing in the place where hope was lost, the place where he broke her heart last season, and the whole script is about to get flipped. She thinks this is the end of everything, when really it’s the beginning.

She’s been staring at the garden all day thinking about everything it represents; how she is nearly on the shelf and may die without ever having been kissed, how Colin Bridgerton would never dream of courting her. But it isn't true. Instead, true love is waiting for her down there. Hope is waiting for her down there. She is not going to die tomorrow. She is not going to die without ever having been kissed. Colin Bridgerton WOULD dream of courting her (and is about to in the next episode! In the bloody garden!!!)

This turned into a dissertation but all this to say that this is why Colin Bridgerton needs to climb through that bedroom window in part two and thoroughly make it up to her, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[krems-chair]

The feminine urge to assemble a master team of individuals to make a large fan rewrite of Veilguard or in the alternative a large mapped out vision board

[what-th3fucc]

doodles I made but plot twist!

random ahh gust of wind 🙃

[xxlady-lunaxx]

A bit more of a fluffy ask than anything

Sanegiyuu discussing wedding stuff, and Sanemi goes "I think you should give me your last name" bcs he hates his last name despite the respect that came with it.

i say yes

Typically, for opposite sex relationships, the husband’s last name is taken. But, whilst discussing their futures, Sanemi points out that both of them are men. Giyuu’s quick to add that they could technically both keep their own last names, but Sanemi intervenes, poking Giyuu’s cheek to quiet him.

“I think you should give me your last name,” he says, resting his elbow on the table and leaning his head on his hand.

Tengen, who was visiting for the main purpose to be an annoyance, pipes up. “So you’re admitting that Tomioka’s the man, between the two of you?” He smirks. Sanemi throws the nearest thing close to him—an empty tea cup. Tengen, the fucking bastard, dodged it easily.

Ignoring their unnecessary banter, Giyuu hums. “You don’t like your last name? I thought you’d keep it…” He trails off, unsure how he was going to finish his sentence.

“Thought you might like the idea of me not being able to call you by your last name anymore,” Sanemi teases, rolling his eyes. Occasionally, when he was annoyed (or just for fun), he’d refer to Giyuu as ‘Tomioka,’ how he’d done in the past. Giyuu was never quite happy about it.

“That’s not-” Giyuu pauses. “Oh. It’s more than that, Sanemi. It’s just, like, Genya- And… I dunno. There’s a lot more to your name.”

Sanemi grows quiet for a moment. Tengen has the mind to not say anything.

“There is a lot,” Sanemi agrees. His tone is distant, and it’s clear his thoughts are elsewhere.

A flicker of understanding passes Tengen and he adds, “well, Tomioka, you could easily have a lot to your name if you let this guy take it as his own, too.”

Giyuu nods slowly, feeling that there was something more to why Tengen was the one who butted in. But he doesn’t question it, instead scooting closer to Sanemi. “So you’d be Tomioka, too?”

Sanemi flashes him a grin. “Sanemi Tomioka, right?” he confirms. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have thought I’d take the same name as the one I used to curse at.”

“Like, to my face, or alone in your room?” Giyuu pesters.

“Both,” Sanemi concedes.

“He was so damn in love,” Tengen grins. “Even when he thought he hated you, he was actually just fighting off the feelings.”

Sanemi shoots him a look. “I’ll just say that my hatred for you runs quite steadily, Uzui.”

“Okay, so, we’re settling on mine?” Giyuu asks, interrupting their arguing.

“Definitely,” Sanemi agrees. “Wouldn’t mind ditching ‘Shinazugawa’. I’ve had it for long enough.”

“Are you just marrying me so you can change your last name?” Giyuu deadpans.

Sanemi snorts. “Oh, yeah, my entire purpose of our relationship was to take your last name. I’ve never cared a moment about you, I just thought ‘Tomioka’ would be a nice replacement,” he huffs, affectionately nudging Giyuu’s shoulder with his own.

“You could say goodbye to me, too, if that was true,” Giyuu says flatly, though a smile plays on his face.

“I just realized how hard it’ll be to get used to this,” Tengen grumbles. “Alright, Shinazugawa, you’ll just be Tomioka. And Tomioka, you can be the pretty Tomioka. Or something. The original, better Tomioka.”

“You are so good at playing favoritism, there is no way you don’t have a favorite wife,” Sanemi grits out.

“I just like Tomioka better than you,” Tengen says, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t get so bitter about being a boring person. Can’t believe Tomioka’s actually agreeing to marry you.”

Giyuu smiles. “He has his pros and cons.”

“Wouldn’t take a genius to know which column has more,” Tengen mutters. Sanemi stands.

“You little shit—”

[pb-s-corner]

no comment

[best--dress]

WIP Wednesday

hello friends! I'm having a hell of a week, but thank god we're more than halfway thru it. Thanks @orange-peony and @fiend-for-culture for tagging me today 🥰

I've had a cold since saturday (although I took another test today and it still says it's NOT covid thank goodness) so I'm drinking a fancy juice with ginger AND I have a big chocolate chip cookie. I haven't been feeling well enough to write, but I got a big chunk of my @carry-on-sapphic-week fic written last week, and I'm at the beta/editing stage on the next chapter of my fem snowbaz fic!

This is from my sapphic week fic, which I was surprised to realize is also my first non-snowbaz fic.

“It’s amazing what you can order on the Internet,” I say. [Redacted] sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. “I always wondered what it would feel like to wear one of those.”

“I guess this is why they made the windows so small.” “Lesbian mages in the middle ages?” I wonder.

Any guesses what's going on? Who's getting up to what? Why there are so many jokes in a fic that is supposed to be smut? Why I love making my wipsday posts so mysterious??

May all your internet finds be amazing @facewithoutheart, @thewholelemon, @ileadacharmedlife, @martsonmars, @youarenevertooold, @rimeswithpurple, @aristocratic-otter, @leithillustration, @iamamythologicalcreature, @alexalexinii, @cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @onepintobean, @emeryhall, @arthurkko, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @monbons, @ic3-que3n, @roomwithanopenfire, @blackberrysummerblog, @bookish-bogwitch, @the-beard-of-edward-teach, @bookishbroadwayandblind

[sunfloweraro]

Sky’s still got it

Sky plays a certain soothing tune on his harp to help Bunny get some rest. It works a little too well.

Tags: @thatonecrazysidekick and @tiredgaytheatrekid

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Sky began to pluck the strings for one last song, his eyes slipping shut as he thought of his beloved back home, often troubled by nightmares after her journey, similar to the ones that plagued him. He would sit by their bed after a bad dream of hers, once he had comforted her and wiped her tears away with his thumb, and he would play her this song. Zelda would never fall asleep in the first play-through, rarely the second, but by the third, soft snores would always escape her despite her insistence that she wouldn’t be able to sleep again that night.

As Sky played the final note, letting it linger on the air sweetly, he opened his eyes, slow and calm. All around him, the Zora had fallen asleep, either leaning against each other or curled up on the floor. Four had drifted off against the railing, his relaxed features making him look much younger than he normally did. Time leaned back against the wall of the Domain, arms crossed and chin lowered to his chest, fast asleep.

And next to Sky, Bunny had slumped, his breathing deep and even as Sky had hoped it would be.

“Still got it,” Sky murmured to himself, pride glowing within his chest at having knocked out both their normally serious Smithy and the Old Man, and at having helped Bunny get some rest after such an eventful day.

“That ye do.” Sky jumped, raising a hand to his chest when he realised it was only Twilight, leaning against the railing of the stairs, staring down at him with a fanged smile. “Sorry, we didn’ mean tah scare ye.”

It was then Sky realised Wild stood across from Twilight, his slate out as he attempted to capture an image of Time, conked out against the wall. He snapped a couple before Twilight grabbed him by the back of the shirt and dragged him away.

“That’s enough. We need tuh wake ‘em up”—Twilight jerked a thumb back at the sleeping Zora—“and get this lot in bed. We’ve a busy day ahead of us tomorrow and the last thing I wan’ is to listen to the Old Man bitch about ‘is sore back.”

Sky couldn’t help but snort, raising a hand to his mouth to stifle the sound. Wild had no qualms with bursting into laughter, quickly achieving their task of waking the Zora with their sensitive hearing. Grumbles were sent his way, and they received a half-apologetic wave before they dispersed.

“Ah’ve got this one,” Twilight said, already crouching by Time. Rather than shaking him by the shoulder to wake him, Twilight carefully picked up Time, carrying him effortlessly in his arms like Time was a toddler who had fallen asleep at a family gathering. Sky couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the thought, turning back to Bunny and Four.

“How strong are you feeling today, my dear Champion?”

“We both know these two will weigh about the same,” Wild shot back. “Your choice.”

Rolling his eyes, Sky pushed himself to his feet, dusting off the front of his pants, a force of habit from the many times he had been knocked down on his quest that he couldn’t quite shake. He passed his harp to Wild to be stored in his slate for the moment. “We both know while our Smithy is small, he’s all muscle. I’ll ask again, how strong are you feeling?”

“In that case, I’m taking Bunny.”

“Ye jus’ wanna cuddle ‘im.”

“Perhaps,” Wild said as he scooped Bunny up into his arms, cradling him close like Hyrule and Twilight always did. “Oh. Oh, I see why you two want to carry him all the time. He’s so soft.”

Twilight grinned a fanged grin. “That ‘e is. Be careful with ‘im, yeah?”

Where he might normally take the words as offensive, Wild merely nodded, as if the weight and warmth of a real, breathing creature on his shoulder gave something to Twilight’s words he never heard when he was handling an item. “I will,” he promised.

“In the case,” Sky said, not at all upset he missed out on carrying Bunny when it meant he got to ensure his close friend slept somewhere comfortable and warm. He gathered Four in his arms, grateful he had thought to consider Four’s strength rather than assuming their Smithy would weigh next to nothing with his height. “Shall we?” Sky asked, holding Four closer, smiling when Four leaned his head against Sky’s chest in his sleep, hands reaching out to grasp at the front of his shirt.

“Let’s.”

[here-comes-the-moose]

I feel like Crosshair’s (the rest of the batch’s too tbh) reaction to the people of Pabu would be like my reaction when I moved from the city I spent most of my life in to the one I went to college in. My home city has a (very well-deserved) reputation for being full of rude people (amongst other things) so I was used to that and didn’t think anything of it. However, when I moved to a different city for college and was at the supermarket someone in line with me started chatting with me and complimenting my outfit, and I was trying to act normal because internally I was freaking tf out I was like “who is this person and what do they want from me? Oh my goodness what if this is like the intro of a true crime show?” So then after I pay I RUSH to my dad and am looking over my shoulder like “we need to leave and be careful that person was very suspicious and asking how my day was and complimenting my outfit.” And my dad was like “umm…people are just friendly here? We’re not in X anymore.” It took a while for me to get used to it and I still haven’t fully.

But yeah I feel like that’s what Crosshair’s first reaction to Pabu would be.

[liamket]

Day 27 - Voiceless

Character(s): Wind and Legend (LU)

Words: 1126

Summary: Wind is usually one of the loudest of the chain. Him staying silent means that something is wrong

Whump scale: 3 (see the full scale here)

Warnings: Injury, future Character Death referenced (he's just being a ghost here)

Kinda related to day 19

Also thanks to @majorproblems77 @ordonianhero and @gryphonlover for giving ideas! tried to combine them and get something new out of it, sorry if this isn't what you all though at first, but hope that this fills your expectatives!

-

Arriving to an era between heroes wasn’t that pleasant, just meaning that they will need to do extra work to go around an know more of their surroundings.

Sometimes they could recognize if an era was after or before them, these times made even easier their mission. This time it seemed like they arrived to a time after Legend, maybe a hundred years passed since his adventures.

Traveling was easier this way, he could easily recognize the paths and where did they lead to. This was going to be quick.

They arrived to the first monster camp, killing any monsters and leaving it clean. There was no portal yet, so there must be one or two black blooded monsters camp left.

Although, there was something that didn’t let Legend sleep well that night.

Wind was usually one of the loudest in their group, always in fights indicating or calling for something that he noticed, like an attack that came by surprise or monsters trying to escape.

Nothing of this happened their whole fight, no sound came from their sailor. Now that he was thinking about it, no word has been heard from him since they arrived.

The veteran went for the third shift, occasionally looking at the sailor’s direction. Seeing him so still was also worrying, like if any movement would make someone mad, normally he would be rolling around and snoring like a walrus.

The next morning the rest of them went like they normally do; Sky being grumpy until having his cup of coffee, Twilight already up and packing his things, Wild making breakfast, the usual. But there was something that they were lacking.

The usual jokes and stories that the sailor always tells to fill the silence weren’t present, he just sitting there eating his breakfast without a word.

This continued for other two days of traveling, and Legend was getting tired.

He decided to ask, he knew that the others knew but nobody dared to do the question, maybe thinking that the kid needed his space. Unfortunately for them, he hated to just wait and do nothing.

The vet went to walk next to the sailor, calling his attention by just walking a little louder “Hoi Wind, Can I ask you a Question?”

If this was a joke from the goddesses, then he can tell that they don’t have a good sense of humor. The captain called for them, already localized the camp of monsters.

He will have to postpone this talk, but this will not end here.

As they expected, these were black-blooded monsters, being a little more intelligent than their usual normal selves. Still, they had managed to coordinate and know how to take them down more easily.

Anyone who gets hurt Hyrule goes to aid them, and if he was busy or out of magic Warriors took that job. This was going well.

Until, from a corner of his eyes, he found Wind already surrounded by monsters and with injuries all around his body, is that a cut on his neck?

Why the fuck did he not call for anyone. This was definitely not okay.

“GUYS! WIND’S IN TROUBLE!” He called for the rest, already going by his own to aid the sailor. He saw something in his eyes, maybe a plead to not come closer, to ask him to stay away. He will not do such a thing, first dead than that.

He killed the biggest of the monsters, a moblin ready to swing its sword towards Wind, making it fall to the ground and disappear in a cloud of black smoke, just leaving a dark-colored blood on the grass.

“Din’s damn it kid! Next time call for someone, you would almost get killed!” The lack of response or an insult for calling him a kid was feeding his fears. There was something wrong with him.

The rest took care of the monsters, now the camp was completely clean of any monster. It was confirmed by the feeling of the portal opening in the center of the battlefield.

They all prepared to go through, as always going in duos if the portal separated them.

He will talk with Wind after this.

-

The first thing that his eyes saw was a spectral figure. He knew what it was, he sees them in a daily basis, almost everywhere he went.

When he was about to do a comment, the spirit puts a hand on his mouth, shutting him and a voice, too similar to his, answered.

You will share with me, no voice to cry out what you get to witness. No voice to refuse to my request.

Even if he wanted, nothing could come out of him.

Every request he wanted to do, the spirit answered, nobody being able to hear it but Wind. He heard his own voice say his fears out loud, comments that he would never dare to tell on the other’s faces, things that he would never share.

If the others ask what was wrong, how could he tell them that a ghost was haunting him with his own voice and saying that he felt weak and not worthy next to them?

How could he tell the vet that…

During fights, even if he wanted help, even if he decided to put his own doubts aside, to call for help, no voice could come to him. The spirit kept using the stolen cords, now saying things that he could never say.

When Legend came to his aid, his own voice was there to haunt him.

Look at you, here being a bother that they need to protect just out of pity, if only you even got there in time, if only you were able to do something… But no, you are not able to do even that. You are not even able to protect one of you brothers.

He didn’t know what was it referring to. He didn’t want to know, an idea forming in his head. He didn’t like his mind sometimes.

When they finally leaved the era, he felt like chains finally let go of his throat, breathing becoming even easier and the cold feeling always in his back gone.

If he ignored the veteran, nobody commented on that. Legend doesn’t need to know; he doesn’t deserve to know what will happen.

The image of his ghost, a clean cut in his throat almost separating his head from his body, was something that he will take to the tomb with him. If he can, he will try to be faster. To be useful.

If he never went back to telling stories, jokes, or anything else, nobody dared to ask. And if they do, a proper answer will not be what they get.

[support-ponies]

Hiiii! I love this blog sm it makes me so happy!

I wanted to request a trans pride sunburst? He’s my comfort character, I project onto him a lot and he feels so trans coded imo. It would mean a lot to me :D

Thank you so so much if you get around to this!! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

[anoonimthepoorchad]

I went for a long walk today! Turns out Kyiv didn't magically become less filled with hills and all roads didn't thaw overnight in freezing temperatures, but I didn't even fall once. And I had a chance to take photos of pretty places I visited along my way.

[figbarofknowledge]

Carrey Jim my wayward son

Dumb and Dumber you have done

Lay your weary Mask to rest

Cable Guy The Grinch

[good-beanswrites]

I’m going to hell for this request but Mikoto as a SoundCloud rapper and he gets jumped by the prisoners for his SoundCloud song

LMAO your requests always get me -- out of all the possible milgram prompts I have to say, "soundclous rapper Mikoto" was not on my radar but it was so fun 😂 I hope you enjoy haha!

To say Mikoto was stressed would be an understatement. His interrogation was coming up in a few weeks. He still had no idea what he was doing here in the first place, or what he was supposed to do once in front of the warden. The two prisoners he asked about it had broken into tears and charged at him swinging, respectively. If that was how the little girls reacted, he was confident he’d get nothing short of a punch to the face if he asked any of the stronger adults.

So, trapped between uncertainty and danger, Mikoto did what any normal person would do in his shoes. He blew very loud raspberries, made wailing siren sounds, and sang tongue twisters into the echoing panopticon.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Fuuta banged open the cell door.

“My scales.”

“No shit. Why?”

“I’m warming up.”

“How come?”

“So my voice is ready.”

The look on his face told Mikoto he was still in danger of getting punched. “What. Are. You. Warming. Up. For.”

“Oh! My interrogation is coming up, right? Since we’ll be singing to the warden, I really want to be prepared. I always do these leading up to a performance.”

“No, you idiot, we don’t –”

“A performance~?” Mahiru peered her head into the room. She, too, let herself in. “Are you a singer, Mikoto-kun?”

He lifted his chin. The earlier stress in his chest melted away, now replaced with a wave of pride. “Well actually, yes, I happen to have made a name for myself.”

“Really?” Her squeals of excitement attracted a few onlookers to the cell. (Well, maybe they were still curious from hearing his vocal warmups.) “To think, we have a real singer here with us!”

Haruka’s eyes were wide. “Are y-you like. Um! Are you f-famous? I’m sorry I-I didn’t recognize you...”

Mikoto laughed, waving his hand to dismiss the thought. “No, no, it’s not like that.” He placed the palm on his chest, trying to appear modest. It was about time he got to finally talk about his identity. “Although, I’d like to say I’ve gathered a solid listening audience.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I was kind of surprised no one here recognized my voice. But then again, I create for a pretty niche and artistic corner of the art form… I guess you’re all pretty mainstream…”

Fuuta scowled even as the other prisoners gathered around the entryway to hear about their superstar cellmate. “I’ve never once heard of you, and trust me, I’m into some pretty niche circles. I think you’re just fucking with us.”

“Eh? Of course not! Tell you what, I’ll request an ipod this week, and prove it to you. I always go by a stage name, anyway.”

“What is it, then?”

Mikoto’s lips curled into a smile. “My fans call me Yamada Taro.”

“That is the lamest name I have ever –”

“So cool~!”

—

The panopticon was abuzz with excitement after that. The prisoners double checked, triple checked, and then checked again that Mikoto had actually asked for the device when request day came. As much as they asked him to sing for them, he refused any “spoilers” beforehand. Even after they explained that no singing would be involved at the interrogation, some of the prisoners joined him for random sessions of warmups.

When requests finally arrived, the group huddled around him with anticipation. Es, too, lingered in the corner of the common room, pretending not to be interested. The prisoners leaned over Mikoto’s shoulder, shushing each other as he started looking through it.

“Just search up a song!”

“I’m trying… my stuff isn’t really on the major streaming apps…”

“Oh?” A few faces fell.

“Oi, don’t judge soundcloud! Lot’s of famous rappers get their start there.”

“Excuse me?” Fuuta pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole week, you didn’t think to mention you’re a fucking soundcloud rapper?”

Mikoto chuckled. “Cool, huh? I thought it’d make a good surprise. I didn’t want you guys fawning over me all week long…”

And, somehow, despite it all, Mikoto still ended up with a punch to the face.