Tumgik
#I think it’s bc the reference was his angry smoking face
saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
—————————��——————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
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suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
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grandlinedreams · 6 months
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omfg i did not realize ur requests were open! You're my favorite one piece writer!!!! The way you write the characters especially Law feels so canon huhu
Since Law seems to have a knack for picking up strays and taking them under his wing, may i request something platonic for Law which includes him encountering someone that reminds him of himself when he was young? Someone young and hurt and so so angry at the world, teeth bared, until someone showed them gentleness? Someone who loves like a feral dog, biting in defence when someone tries to pet it? (is it obvious i love dog references in regards to love yet?? lol).
He takes them in and they become deeply loyal to him, always following his shadow and being protective. Law gave them a home and taught them to love while Reader heals a part of Law's inner child because Law gets to help someone the way he wished to be helped as a child.
It all circles back to what Cora did for Law really. Instead of creating a cycle of abuse, its a cycle of love and care.
Thank you!!
Hiya papaya!! I'm honored to be a favorite but also I really hope that I can do this justice for you bc that's such a neat concept :(
[Heads up!: platonic relationship, some angst, more a little delve into Law as a person, Dressrosa/Law backstory spoilers]
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You remind Law of himself as a kid.
Were he anyone else, it might have been a fond sentiment, wrapped in sugared memories ㅡ but no. You remind Law of himself because he understands what you're going through perhaps more than anyone.
The sullen expression and white knuckled fists, bloodied fingers and bruised skin, testifying to your wild animal ferocity in the face of a world that's been far crueler than it needs to be ㅡ he knows.
He was you, all those years ago.
And he knows exactly what will happen if he leaves you like this. He knows someone will slink out of the shadows, whisper poisoned words in your ear, sharpen your fangs and claws against the wrong people in the name of what they think is good.
He won't let that happen to someone else, not if he can help it. He feels like he owes it to Corazon, owes it to you ㅡ and owes it to himself, just a little bit.
He has absolutely no idea how this will go, but he wants to try.
"Why did you help me?"
The question stops Law in his tracks, finding you watching him, eyes dark and wary of the answer. You're undoubtedly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make demands of you, set a debt to be paid back.
He knows it'll take more time before those claws truly retract, before you stop jumping at shadows and holding everything at arms length. But you're trying too, he knows that. (Bepo told him about the other day, when you'd asked Ikkaku a thousand questions about the internals of the Polar Tang, drinking in every word.)
"Because I know what it's like to lose everything." His voice is soft and low, hopes you won't lash out and demand to know what he knows of loss ㅡ because he knows plenty. It wreathes his entire existence like smoke, trailing tendrils into every aspect of who he is. "I know what it's like to be angry."
To ask why, over and over, desperate for answers from gods who choose to remain deaf and blind to those pleas. The world is hardly fair, deals cruel hands in spades and cares little for the aftermath.
"It's not fair." Your voice is a knife blade, aimed to sink into the softest parts. "What did I do to deserve this? Why am I being punished? What am I supposed to do?"
He remembers asking that, too. If he and his town were cursed, if they'd done something wrong to be taken by either disease or people afraid of them. He remembers being angry, that he'd gladly have let it swallow him whole, let himself blaze with it until it hollowed him, left him as a charred testament to who he'd once been.
But Cora ㅡ Cora, who'd owed him nothing, not when Law had sank that knife into him, hoping to kill him ㅡ had doused those flames. Put them out, raked over smoldering coals, refused to let him burn out the way he wanted to. Cora hadn't let him give up, and he's not going to let you either.
"You live," Law says. "I'm not saying that it'll stop hurting, or that the anger goes away entirely. But you take it and you find reasons to live."
"...I don't want to live for myself." Voice tiny, you curl in on yourself, shoulders trembling. "I want my family back. I just want to see them again."
He's no good at this, just as awkward as Cora had been, both men from broken homes and troubled pasts ㅡ both trying to ensure someone else didn't fall down the wrong path.
Warmth drapes over your shoulders, the tickle of feathers at your neck ㅡ and a hand on your head, trying to comfort.
"Then you live for them," he says. "Until you can find a reason to live for yourself, you live for them."
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sidsinning · 1 year
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OOF OK THIS ONES PRETTY DEEP STRAP IN
It’s hard to talk about Ariel without diving into the movie itself so this gonna be long lol
Ariel is actually an amazing character for half the movie RIGHT up to the point she enters the whole voiceless arc. She's so multilayered and her actions in the movie make a lot of sense because of her age and strained relationship with her father. People call her spoiled, a brat, or dumb bc she gave up everything she had for “a boy”. Which if you’ve seen my track record by now, you’ll know I disagree with lol.
Ariel is free spirited, adventurous, naive, daring, bubbly, curious, etc. She knows she doesn’t want to just be a pretty bird who sings to please everyone, but that’s the role she has been condemned to. No one sees Ariel, they see her prized voice. The beautiful princess with the angelic voice. She is told what to think and want by everybody around her and when she tries to express otherwise, no one listens to her. Everyone listens to her voice, but not what she’s saying.
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1.) Ariel is not selfish or spoiled. She is someone who knows she has a (mostly) loving family. She has been forced into hiding her true thoughts and desires because her father only reacts negatively, always screaming at her and silencing her whenever she tries to explain herself. She doesn’t constantly complain or snap at people when she doesn’t get what she wants, only getting angry when her father screams at her first and when Sebastian snitches on her which causes her entire safe space to be destroyed.
2.) She. Is. A. Teenager. She is in a very tumultuous time in her life with many emotions running rampant which, if not properly cared for, WILL cause her to make rash decisions and rebel. I am not only referring to the Big Moment where she becomes human, I mean those subtle actions like swimming to the surface when forbidden to and secretly hoarding countless human artifacts in a small cave. Small little things that are the brightest part of her day. It is only when her father is at his most abusive, angrily destroying all her most valued possessions right in front of her, does Ursula take advantage of her, stealing her voice to make that horrible deal, IMMEDIATELY when she is at her most broken down.
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Now, I know people immediately run to “wow, she gave up her entire amazing life and precious family just to be with this dude who doesn’t even know she exists just like that?” No. She has always desperately wanted to be human and explore what it’s like up on land for who knows how long, it’s Ursula who used her intense (and first!) crush on Eric to sweeten the deal. So, it wasn’t just for a boy.
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See. Look at all that delicious character building. She has an I Want™  song and everything.
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AND THEN THE VOICELESS ROMANCE ARC
Listen up I know what people say to defend this. Eric was entranced by Ariel’s voice just like everyone else when he first met her, but through those 3 days he had to get to know, and fall in love with, the real Ariel who wasn’t this angelic siren he pictured in his head. She puts forks in her hair, blows pipe smoke into people’s faces, rides horses across cliffs for the lols. When Ariel is in the human world she isn’t solely focused on Eric, she is living her dream, excitedly walking through streets on her feet as she’s always dreamed, exploring what the town has to offer.
But,,,they literally never properly communicate with one another on what’s going on in each other’s heads. Ursula says Ariel needs to make Eric fall for her in 3 days without her voice and Ariel is like, “How do I do that without talking???” Ursula basically goes lol men don’t care what you have to say you just need to be pretty.
And I know Eric doesn’t only like Ariel for her looks but,,,Ursula wasn’t exactly wrong??? Ariel doesn’t let him know about her interests, thoughts, feelings, nor does he ask for them. They go on the equivalent of one date where both seem to wanna see each other more after lol. Bc of that all the true love talk is very meh to me.
Basically once she becomes human, Ariel remains mostly passive for the rest of the movie. Her dad saves her from the contract, Eric saves her from Ursula (though I acknowledge her small lil save to Eric beforehand), then she becomes human forever and sails off into the sunset. The lesson she learns is sort of unclear here, even though she apologizes to her father. All her issues and mess ups are fixed for her in the end and she gets what she wants. It’s just unsatisfying to see how little of a role she plays at the end of the movie.
So, I don’t think Ariel is very admirable tbh, but I do think she is one of the most relatable princesses. A rebellious teenage girl with an overbearing father. She isn’t quite the strong feminist icon like Mulan or anything, but I do appreciate how much thought was put into her personality. She’s a fully realized and 3 dimensional person- emotional, driven, flawed, charming, gullible, bright, impulsive, etc. Which is really progressive looking at where she is in the timeline of Disney princess films. A step in the right direction. It's mainly the ending where I have the most criticism for with these movies lol.
SORRY THIS WAS LONG BUT MY FEELINGS ON TLM ARE EVEN LESS BLACK AND WHITE THAN SOME OF THE OTHER PRINCESSES
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and-stir-the-stars · 10 months
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thinking about. saffron henry. does he realize how badly he fucked up? what would the boys' reactions be if he reappeared? does jem know about him? also, is he like. healing his own trauma from charlie n everything or is he just. melting
also. unrelated. does mike ever feel like he should be less fucked up because evan's trauma is just so extreme that he compares it? does evan ever feel like others shouldn't be so traumatized bc of his frame of reference?
(Answered the first half of this ask here)
These are awesome awesome questions about the extent of and response to the trauma Ev and Mike went thru, thank you for asking!
does mike ever feel like he should be less fucked up because evan's trauma is just so extreme that he compares it?
Yes. Mike has a lot of guilt over the fact that HE was able to escape and form a life of his own when Evan so clearly wasn't.
This is probably a problem Mike had even before finding out what happened to Evan, actually. Mike has spent some time listening to other runaways stories, hearing how bad other people had it, and he would have compared himself to their stories and found the abuse he faced 'lacking' because Mike is just. Deep down, he's just a kid who wants to be loved, and he wants to be loved by his father, so even though he knows he's been abused by William, a part of him still can't help but think "maybe it wasn't actually that bad" "maybe i just did stupid stuff to make him angry and if i just stopped, things would get better" "maybe I'm just weak and shouldn't be hurt by the stuff he did".
And this tendency to like. Downplay everything he went through affects his reaction to what Evan went through. Not in that he downplays what Ev went through (he doesn't), but it makes Mike downplay his own trauma.
There's a lot of nights when Mike roams listlessly through the house, hating himself for not being able to sleep. Because what problems does he REALLY have?? Yeah William hurt him sometimes and shitty things happened to him after he ran away, but some voice in his head snaps that at least he got out! Usually when Mike can't sleep, he goes on drives in his VW bus to calm his nerves, but in this case, he refuses to let himself do that as punishment for "being so freaked out over nothing". He probably does this refusing-to-let-himself-be-comforted and pushing-himself-past-his-limits thing because he thinks what he went through "wasn't that bad" a lot. It's something he has to work on in therapy.
It also doesn't help that Mike feels obligated to be Put Together for Evan’s sake; it def makes Mike's downplaying/hiding/refusing to acknowledge what he went through thing worse. But that's the good thing about Evan's arc where he realizes Mike is his own person who went through a lot of trauma of his own; it makes Mike acknowledge some of the shit he went through and actually WORK through it, too. It is it's own kind of validation and relief for someone close to you to look at what you went through and admit "it's shitty that that happened to you, and I wish it hadn't."
does evan ever feel like others shouldn't be so traumatized bc of his frame of reference?
mmmm, kinda?
Evan's sense of empathy is complicated, especially when he's put in Mike’s custody; he's still mad at Mike for everything that happened between them. He still thinks of Mike as this big, scary, untouchable monster. Of course an invincible monster like that couldn't ever be hurt by anything.
Then, Mike keeps trying to treat Ev with kindness and sympathy instead of being cruel and monstrous. At this point, the times when Ev sees Mike flinch away from touch or flinching from Ev yelling at him or from the smell of cigarette smoke on Ev's clothes, or the times when Mike gets sent into a panic attack, are all met with confusion and a level of self-satisfaction. He doesn't know why these things are having such an impact on Michael, but it's satisfying to see that the monster that hurt him so bad can be made hurt and vulnerable after all-- especially since Evan takes this as proof that William chose Evan over Mike as his successor because he believed Evan was Stronger. Evan starts to understand that Mike can be hurt, but does not empathize with Mike over this understanding just yet.
But I don't think Evan would have the thought "why should Mike be traumatized over xyz thing when I had to deal with abc" because Evan hasn't been thinking about what William did to him as something traumatic. That doesn't come until later. He thought what William was doing was normal & good. The time Evan has spent in psychiatric facilities has taught him that the murder/using violence to make yourself feel better thing isn't normal, but Evan hasn't gotten over the barrier of thinking that it made him Stronger-- that it was a good thing even if it wasn't Normal.
It's not until Ev realizes that William was using him, didn't care, and wasn't trying to help Ev that that particular barrier finally comes crashing down for Evan.
It's not long after that that Evan has his "oh, Mike is a real person with his own trauma" revelation.
During the time between Ev realizing that William was so horrifically abusive and having his realization about Mike’s trauma, I think it's possible that Ev would lash out in ways that come across as "why should you be traumatized by xyz thing", because Ev has so much pain and confusion around the idea that Mike just left him there with William. YOU got out and I didn't, I was the one stuck there because YOU left me there, so what exactly do you have to freak out over? You chose the new life you ran away for.
But I think this fades once Ev has his Realization about Mike’s past. Because the Realization makes him understand that Mike didn't choose any of this, either.
so, this brings me to how your question applies to Evan when he's actually had a chance to start healing.
Evan’s definitely had his sense of empathy stunted and repressed as a result of his trauma, so it's hard for him to understand what other people are thinking or feeling. But I don't think this translates to him thinking other people SHOULDN'T be traumatized (as much sense as that as a trauma response would make for someone who has been thru what Evan has) so much as Evan not understanding that someone IS traumatized by something, and later, WHY they would be traumatized by it.
But Evan is a naturally empathetic person, and a naturally curious kid. So i think his response to finally understanding that the reason someone is acting weird is because they're upset by something, it would manifest as curiosity since his empathy has been so fried. He doesn't understand other people's trauma, but I think he'd be curious to understand the why's and how's of other people’s trauma. Why are you upset. What about this specific scenario is sparking this reaction. What specifically does it make you feel. Why aren't you acting like you normally do. How do i stop this from happening again.
His attempts to Understand come across as... maybe not clinical, exactly, but definitely as insensitive.
Like, when Evan learns that Jeremy is still fucked up about their (singular) little sister dying when they were younger, Evan’s brain is like. MY sister went missing (he knows how Liz died but repressed it) and my brother used her disappearance as an excuse to torture me. In Evan’s mind, what he went through is Worse than what Jeremy went through, but he's not being judgemental as is implied in the question "why should you be traumatized", he's just genuinely Trying To Understand "why was that so upsetting for you when it could have been worse?" Once he finally realizes that someone is upset about something, he struggles to understand WHY, and he accidentally comes across as insensitive.
I don't think it's emotional so much as physical pain that would elicit that kind of "why should you be upset when xyz traumatic thing could have happened instead?" response. Evan has been trained to be less responsive to physical pain by this point, as in is less responsive to being in pain himself and seeing others in pain. If he were to see someone get visibly upset from stubbing a toe or scraping a knee or getting cut/scratched, he'd just look on in utter confusion. Evan has seen people--kids-- be physically ripped apart. William and younger Mike both did things to him that could low key be classified as torture. I think the part of his brain repsonsible for registering physical pain is always gonna be a little fucked up.
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llycaons · 9 months
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ep21 (p2): a lot of pensive staring in this one
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this was a strange scene, and one that still baffles me. many questions:
why do we need to see the wen prisoners this early? we see wq later on her own, and it makes more sense for her to wander for a while alone than get captured and then escape leaving her granny behind. we see the wen prisoners later too, their harassment and their murders and their imprisonment.
what is wwx DOING? the smoke seems to flare up when he's angry about something then he plays and causes an avalanche. we've already seen that his music can do damage! and we see and hear him say later that his powers are connected to his emotional state
next question is whether his cultivation is connected to the yin iron, which is turns out it can be, but this scene has nothing to do with the yin iron either so ??????
it's very odd and if I was a novel reader I'd definitely be annoyed. one of the weaker choices from the drama
also wen qing in full makeup with one smear of dirt artfully applied to her forehead. okay!
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and then he's SO DRAMATIC coming in lmao the wind coming in at his back everyone covering his eyes, and he's all cryptic despite lxc's best efforts to figure out what the fuck he's talking about
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he says this but he still closes his eyes to inconvenient political situations if questioning them would cause any disruption in his sect or the system. his defense of jgy is out of compassion for a man discriminated against, but it's also out of a personal affection for him. and lxc is uncomfortable with injustuce, but he's an able politician and he doesn't have the intensity of lwj towards his principles, nor wwx's comittment or clearsightedness
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oh boy, this scene. is there a more loaded silence in this entire show?
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lwj lies so fucking much as a teenager it's hilarious how he got his reputation
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jc lmao
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this is a weird thing to say. first of all, it's hurtful when wwx clearly cared about lwj a lot, and second of all does he really think lwj was so determined to find wwx just out of wartime camaraderie? it's easy to assume lwj disliked wwx in CR, but surely three months of frantic searching and the threat of torture led jc to realize that maybe lwj cares about wwx on a personal level
...god, maybe not. jc and lwj were really never going to connect, huh. jc takes him at face value and lwj extends no compassion towards him in return
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coming from YOU?!
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this scene made me laugh. jc like 'get rid of your naughty toys!' and wwx like 'suuuure, yeah I'll DEFINITELY do that'
their dynamic here is pretty fun ngl
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ah! the depression setting back in. his eyes look so empty...some of it misery over the general situation, losing lwj etc. but also. the trauma
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oh I love this scene. the restraint behind not knocking. ah! my heart is a-flutter
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walking away in the middle of a conversation bc he's mad ♥♥♥♥♥ truly he and wwx were made for each other they love leaving situations
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I love this expression of his. truly does look on the verge of tears and MAD about it. a really important thing about lwj as a character is that he is so so seething with emotional at any given moment and he can't verbalize it so he expresses it physically. or artistically.
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here, he's attacking wwx as all his pent-up anger and frustration and hurt erupt and it's a language that wwx knows how to speak too and responds to. I don't know how they would have started talking again if it wasn't through this fight. going up to him and saying 'hey can we talk?' would only have resulted in more deflection, lies, and manipulation. but they're honest when they fight like this
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and this shot. whew
personal highlights:
jyl was incredible in this episode! I know most ppl's favorite scene for her is dressing down jzx, but I like to appreciate her more everyday acts of love and guidance as well
wwx referring to himself as 'no longer a child' fucking ruined me
lxc explaining the fact that nuance exists in a really kind and nonjudgemental way
that tense meeting of the two sets of brothers
jc and wwx conversation where jc expresses concern like a normal person and then does an epic eye roll
lwj and wwx both lying point blank to their families
lwj being SO reserved at the door makes me feel like a victorian maiden
the abrupt attack was really fun too. FIGHT!!!
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paterson-blue · 2 years
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Fine Line
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Summary: Henry pays you yet another visit.
Word Count: 2,372
Warnings: Dubious consent, somnophilia, consensual somnophilia, I'm serious y'all do not come for me if you get upsetty spaghetti--this is tagged for a reason, you can have a little dead dove as a treat, afab!reader, bitter!henry, mean & angry!henry, insecure!henry, jealous!henry, possessive!henry, .... it's canon henry y'all idk what you want me to say, henry mchenry is in love and he fuuuuucking hates it, cigarette smoking, passing reference to cocaine lol, degradation (sort of?), masturbation, spit as lube but also lube as lube, unprotected piv sex, creampie oop!, lil hint of breeding kink bc it's me, chance of pregnancy is ambiguous, .... harry styles cowrote with me and I will NOT face any slander for it bye – let me know if I need to add anything else!
A/N: This is part 2 to The Night, The Flame, but can also be read as a standalone!
Just took a sleeping pill so I’m sure I’ll be out by the time you finish up. Break a leg! Let me know when you get home safe.
Henry rereads your text as he sits backstage, cigarette clenched between his teeth. It was stupid, really, for you to ask to know when he got home if you were going to be asleep already. What was the point? What if he crashed his bike on the way back--it’s not like you’d know until the morning. He’d be cold and dead on the side of the road by then.
He thinks about calling you to tell you just that, to berate you over it as the much needed nicotine courses through his veins. But there’d be no use--you were always dead to the fuckin’ world after taking a sleeping pill. You didn’t do it often; you must be having trouble sleeping this week. Henry hates how concern bubbles up within him at the thought.
He’s been hating a lot of things recently, which he supposes isn’t new--but this time feels different from the usual.
Henry sighs in annoyance, stabbing the butt of his cigarette into the nearby ashtray before finally getting back into his street clothes. The set had been a wild success, and he’d been planning on heading into the club to join the audience members. A night of drinking, women, a little coke--he needed it, needed the stress relief. He needed to relax. He’s pretty sure the girl who flashed her tits at him would be game; or, she was last time.
And then he’d seen your stupid fucking text message, and all thoughts of anyone else went out the window.
It’s not how things were supposed to be. You were supposed to be a fun piece of ass that he could come fuck whenever he wanted. That’s how it started, and that’s what you’d agreed to. You wanted to use his body as much as he wanted to use yours, and the two of you were fine with that arrangement.
But now he can’t fucking sleep with anyone else. He doesn’t want to sleep with anyone else, only you. And christ, the thought of you in another man’s bed makes Henry see red. He knows he can’t be the one you want, not all of him--not anything other than his cock. He gets it; he’s beyond fucked up and you’re not, and you both know it. He’s good in bed, he’s confident in that. But what else can he provide?
God fucking dammit he wants to scream. He’s so fucking frustrated, his previous plans dashed. All his earlier urges, his thoughts of the indulgences the club can provide--they’re gone. His fingertips twitch, and he fumbles for another cigarette on instinct, taking in a deep inhale as soon as it's lit.
He knows what he wants--what he needs. And he’s going to get it.
He takes long drags of his cigarette as he grabs his motorcycle helmet and heads outside to his bike, flatly ignoring anyone who tries to talk to him. He’s on a mission now, and he doesn’t feel like interruptions.
It doesn’t take long to get to your flat, the journey one that he’s made what feels like hundreds of times. He thinks he can make the trip with his eyes closed, each and every turn familiar, his subconscious guiding him until he parks, shutting off his bike and letting the night fall quiet.
Henry stares up towards your balcony, taking a couple deep breaths. He itches for another smoke, but he resists the urge—he doesn’t need another hit of nicotine when he has you.
He’s done this before, come to you at night while you were sleeping. It’s the entire reason you gave him a key to your place. He hadn’t wanted to take the token at first, too scared of what a key represented, too worried about what it insinuated. But you’d made such a convincing argument as to why he needed one—told him you knew he got antsy after a show, and you’d be available to him even while you slept, unconscious to his actions.
Well how could he have said no?
Yes, Henry’s done this more than enough times now to have everything down to a science. He knows how to let himself in silently, knows where to step so the floors don’t creak. It wouldn’t make a difference really—you won’t wake up, and he knows it—but it just enhances the experience, pretending that you might.
He knows you’ll be sprawled out in bed naked; you always said you got too hot at night. He knows how to move you ever so gently, letting your legs fall open to reveal your sweet, gorgeous pussy. He knows where you keep the lube; knows exactly what he needs to make sliding into you slick and easy.
He forgoes the condom this time. Usually he wore one in order to prevent any mess—to try to leave no trace of himself, so you’d be none the wiser when you awoke. But not tonight. Tonight, he’s on edge, possessive, irritated with the feelings you cause within him. He’s going to make a mess of you, leave it for you to find in the morning.
He’s going to fucking show you just who you belong to.
He’s already hard as he unzips his jeans, palming his cock through his briefs. It’s not surprising—doing this always got him going. You’re so fucking beautiful like this, spread out and vulnerable for him. The prettiest, most obscene picture for his eyes only.
Mine, he thinks to himself as he shoves his underwear down his thighs, gaze greedy. He can’t help but suck his thumb into his mouth, wetting it before moving his hand between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You twitch in your sleep, cunt pulsing--begging for his cock.
He considers pulling you to the edge of the bed--kneeling and tasting you, coating his tongue with your slick. It’s just as much for him as it is for you, though Henry’s loath to admit it. Part of the appeal, though, is your response to him--your moans, your sighs, the wriggle of your hips against his face, your fingers gripping, twisting, pulling at his hair. The pain is a high stronger than any drug can give him; your noises, euphoria. He has none of it if you’re asleep, yet he doesn’t want to wake you and spoil the current moment.
It’s another frustrating contradiction. You’ve never made things easy for him.
Henry warms the lube in his palm before giving his cock a couple strokes; it twitches in his hand, overeager. His gaze trails over your body up to your face, expression lax and peaceful where your cheek is nuzzled into your pillow. He thinks about what it would be like to have this--have you--every night. He imagines a world where he comes home to you, pulls you into his arms, rests his head on the pillow next to yours and tells you sweet, beautiful, stupid little things.
It’s unrealistic and he knows it--makes his heart clench up in his chest. That ugly green feeling rises within him once again to replace his sorrow.
Sometimes, Henry thinks he loves you so much that he hates you.
It’s a fine line.
He jerks his cock the way he wants to fuck you: hard and fast and ferocious, squeezing himself tight. His chest heaves as he struggles to gasp in quiet breaths; his lungs feel heavy, suffocated by his irrational anger, his jealousy, his resentment. Henry knows he could let go of his feelings--could free himself from the darkness that swirls in his head, in his heart. But, if he did that, he knows what feelings he would have left, and love is a far scarier thing than bitterness.
He fights the urge to wake you--to pound into you mercilessly, a hand around your throat, making you cry out for him as he stares into your eyes. He wants to punish you for making him love you, for making him weak, for making him hopeless and discontent. But, he’ll save that for later. Because he knows, despite what he tells himself, there will always be a later. He can’t stay away from you long, and you always--impossibly--welcome him back.
Instead, he forces his hands to stop their incessant movement; the lack of stimulation makes his hips jerk. Wiping his hands on the sheets, he clambers onto your bed; his cock bobs between his legs, hard and drooling. You stir slightly, and Henry settles his palms on your knees, watching your face intently--still, you remain unconscious. As soon as you settle back down, Henry wraps his long fingers around your upper thighs, spreading you open just how he needs in order for him to shuffle closer.
Your cunt twitches when he notches the head of his cock to your pretty little hole, as if trying to pull him in. It makes him groan--quietly, low in his throat. He’s already close, cock throbbing as he rubs the head through your soft folds. You’re relaxed enough like this--and probably still open from last night--that he can press in with little resistance. You make a noise akin to a sigh, but Henry’s too entranced by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock inch by inch to check and see if you’re waking up.
It’s perfect, though it always is, having you on his cock. The lube slicks the way just enough for him to press in deep, holding himself there as your cunt flutters around him, adjusting to the intrusion. He’s so on edge--physically, emotionally, mentally; just this is enough to make his balls pulse. Henry allows himself a couple slow strokes, muscles tense as he moves his hips in deliberate, steady thrusts. Your walls grip him tight, hot and soft, sucking him back in as soon as he starts to pull out. He thinks, idly, that he could stay like this all night. Maybe he should lay down, pull you back against his chest--press his cock into you from behind, let your warm pussy milk him until morning while he nuzzles his face into your neck.
But it’s too soft a dream; too intimate an image--it’s not something he deserves. And, more than that: it’s not something he’s ever wanted before. You’ve turned him into someone else.
Henry clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth. Fucking pathetic, he thinks, both of us. Gathering saliva in his mouth, he lets it drip down onto the top of your mound before spreading it around your clit with his thick fingers. It’s messy and unrefined; if you were awake, you’d probably do that thing where you pretend not to like it. He hates that he knows your each and every reaction.
As it is, your pussy clenches on his cock, your body still giving away how much you want it even while unconscious. Each little movement of your hips, each hitch in your breathing, each furrow of your brow pulls Henry closer and closer to the edge. He rubs your clit leisurely; he’s practiced enough to know exactly how much you need to make you cum without jolting you awake.
He swears he can feel your cunt getting wetter and wetter the more he works you; he pulls out just enough to check, and groans quietly when he sees the sheen of your slick coating his cock. Pressing back into you makes him shudder, and the movement of his fingers gets sloppy; he’s desperate to feel you break, desperate to watch you shiver through your peak. He doesn’t have to wait much longer.
You make a whimper that cuts off almost as soon as it begins, a pretty frown decorating your once peaceful facial features--and then, all of a sudden, your hard little clit is pulsing underneath Henry’s fingertips. He clamps his teeth down onto his bottom lip to muffle himself as your pussy squeezes around his sensitive cock, pulling his orgasm from him. It’s all too easy: your soft walls milking him, the knowledge that you’re unaware of what you’re doing. Your body wants his cum, wants him--he’s your most basic desire. He won’t deny you what you need.
Henry’s fingertips circle your clit until your hips jerk, wanting to ride the wave of your orgasm as long as he can. The heat of his cum floods your pussy, coating his cock, leaking out onto the sheets; it makes his head spin to think that maybe--just maybe--it’ll take root. That he’ll place a piece of himself inside of you, that you’ll let that hint of darkness grow. He heaves in a sharp breath, goosebumps peppering his skin. Don’t make a fool out of yourself, the sneering voice in his head tells him.
He doesn’t move for a while after your aftershocks fade, ignoring his aching knees as he savors the moment. It’s quiet in the darkened room aside from his trembling breaths and the faint noise of the city outside. You still haven’t woken, even with the sheen of sweat decorating your skin and his cum sticking to your inner thighs. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe this is how the two of you last. Him stealing little moments while sparing you having to be with him--maybe this was the only way he can know you.
Henry shakes the thought from his mind, finally spurring his body into motion. He doesn’t bother cleaning himself up this time, just watches the creamy white of his cum drip from your pussy as he tucks his cock back into his briefs. It makes such a pretty picture that he wants to document it, but he’s already overstayed his welcome and he knows it. So he leaves the scene as it is: your legs spread akimbo, sloppy cunt on display, sheets stained. That angry little voice within him raises its ugly head once more, telling him it’s what you deserve. He shoves the words away, draping one of your quilts over your bare form as gently as he can.
When he gets back to the safety of his apartment, he shoots you a text just as you’d requested.
Made it home. Sleep well.
_______________________________
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dr3amofagame · 3 years
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the amount of angst in the post-prison writing you did just gave me massive post-prison dream brainrot and i'm just. sitting here thinking about how sam dealt with the curious looks and glances and having to face what's he's done as a warden. and everyone else's reaction to everything because hey, maybe the prison WAS a torture chamber that nobody deserves to be locked in to be treated like utter trash.
(btw i love your writing and analysis! they give me so much life :DD)
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thank you anon!! this universe is ,, Fun ,, im ngl -> have this continuation of it, w/ sapnap and sam!! it’s a bit messy but oh well
(edit: i added these two asks as well bc they fit and i thought it’d be a bit redundant to rewrite this scene lmao -> the implication that dream’s admissions abt exile mightve been the result of ,, torture is. uh. yikes.) 
(This one is DARK, please heed the warnings)
TW: PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ABUSE (heavy warning for this one), starvation, toxic relationship, manipulation, references to the prison and exile, c!sam/warden!sam critical, violence, blood, dark themes, emotional distress, child abuse, torture
“Be honest,” Sapnap starts, quiet. “What did you do?”
Sam opens his mouth - hesitates, looks away. He should’ve known that his vague words and half-explanations that had been enough to push away most of the crowd - or at least, postpone the conversation for later - wouldn’t have been nearly enough to convince the man standing in front of him, but a part of him must’ve hoped, anyway. He’s not ready to speak, not ready to admit anything to himself, never mind someone else entirely - but ‘ready’ doesn’t matter, not when Sapnap is right here, waiting.
(He ignores how ‘ready’ didn’t matter for Dream when Sam had gone in, that first time, pick in hand and nothing but questions and rage spinning in an endless cycle in his mind, whirling together into something incomprehensible, insatiable, vicious - he’s not thinking about it.
He can’t think about it.)
“Well?” Sapnap’s voice raises, impatience coloring his tone, and it’s almost enough to draw a chuckle to Sam’s lips - he’d always been a little overeager, not doing well with silence, waiting, even as a kid. It’s part of the reason why he got along with Dream so well, Dream jumping at the chance to spend time with someone that didn’t shut him down for rambling and Sapnap simply excited at the chance to have someone that would join him on his hare-brained schemes instead of dismissing him as a dumb kid- and oh. Right.
The scrunch of his face is the same, Sam realizes, absently, as the expression Sapnap had when he was little; it’s the same crease between his eyebrows, the same slight jut to his bottom lip. Even with a new scar decorating his left jaw and the shadows under his eyes and collection of faint wrinkles belying his stress, he doesn’t look all that different - still looks young, a kid playing dress up in armor too big and too war-torn to belong to him. It’s easy to forget, but even after all the wars they’ve fought, even with all of the combat experience he’s had, Sapnap’s still barely twenty - only a few weeks out of being a teenager.
(He crushes the thought of what that makes Dream - he’s not. Thinking. About. It.)
“Hello? Earth to Sam?” Sapnap snaps his fingers in front of his face, and Sam blinks away the memories, the guilt, boxing it up and filing it neatly away to deal with - later. Never, ideally.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
Only later is now, there’s no escaping this conversation, and Sam. Really doesn’t want to be talking about this, right now. Sapnap fidgets, leaning on his right foot and then his left and then rocking back again - the feeling is mutual, then, but he knows the look in the younger’s eye well enough to know that neither of them are leaving without an explanation leaving Sam’s lips.
(Netherite and iron and smoke, bloodstained pickaxe tipping up a gaunt face, hand reaching around a too-prominent jawline with bruising force - are you going to answer my question, prisoner? Or are we going to have to do this again?
He’s not-
He can’t-)
“I-,” guilt, thick and heavy, circles his throat, chokes the words rising in his mouth. What can he even say? Can words really capture the sweat-slick desperation, the bubbling lava and heat and smoke stealing away all breath and thought, leaving nothing but a humming buzz of rage burning, hissing, begging for release? Can he really describe the endless darkness and weight settling on his shoulders, the hard edges and jagged fear taking anything soft, anything kind? Words swim in the back of his throat, try to reach his teeth, fall short; bloodstained memories haunt the back of his eyelids every time he blinks; there is so much, too much, to say, and yet nothing at all.
How does he even start?
There is no sympathy on Sapnap’s face when Sam looks, but there isn’t any cruelty either, just dark, watching eyes, lips thin and pressed together, jaw clamped shut, tense. Indifference, or a pale imitation of it, meant to hide the mess of his hair, the tremble in his hands, the helpless, desperate thing growing in his pupils. Sam understands and wishes he doesn’t; regrets, and wonders if he has the right, anymore.
“It- started, as an interrogation,” Sam stumbles over his words, stares at his hands because looking at Sapnap’s face will be too much, is too much. “I was angry. The prisoner- Dream- was desperate. That cell-” he shakes his head, remembers obsidian in his hands, remembers tearing away carpet, paintings, plants, remembers leaving the box bareboned, desolate, a cage and nothing more, “It messes with you. Screws with your head. I knew it, he knew it, but I guess we didn’t realize- I guess I didn’t realize-”
(Blood and crunching bone and shrill screams - tell me what you did to him-)
“I needed information. He wasn’t talking. I got- heated, and he laughed, and something- snapped, I guess.”
(I’ll tell you I’m sorry please please sam stop please)
“All I had on me was a pickaxe. He wasn’t talking, I was desperate - angry - I needed to know. I didn’t-”
(I just knew I needed to drag him away, he was ruining everything, he was destroying everything, I just needed him to leave before he brought down the whole damn server with him - the tnt was supposed to be a one time thing)
“It was supposed to be- one time. Was never supposed to happen, at all. But I guess I got mad - for me? For Tommy? I don’t- I don’t know, and it was- easy, you know? Take away the clock, one day. Give him less potatoes the next.”
(It was easy to do it again, I guess, mess with his invitations a little, take some of his stuff. There was nobody around but me and him and he’d ruined so much, he’d messed everything up - I thought that maybe if I took away his armor enough, he wouldn’t be able to go back. He wouldn’t ruin everything.)
“He’d done- so much. He was so awful to Tommy, to everyone- I thought I could prevent that. I thought maybe if I broke him enough, he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone again. I renamed the pickaxe Will Breaker, to remind me, to remind him, I don’t know. I-”
Sam laughs, tired, poisonous, ignoring the way Sapnap whispers, stricken, looking at his hands and seeing nothing but red. Dream’s face, bruised, bloody, but glimmering with something almost like satisfaction comes to mind - and oh. Oh.
(Bloodstained teeth twisted in a bitter smile - Sam, I thought I had to.)
He gets it now. He wishes he didn't.
“I thought- ha-” His hand comes up to his face - he’s crying. When did he start crying? ”I thought I had to.”
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miyuskye · 3 years
Text
I saw some pretty hot takes on Eden lately and I just needed to vent.
I don't understand why Eden is /this/ badly received by the fandom (the whole fandom, even from Adam fans), and that, if you ship Eden, you must do it in secret or attach a post scriptum to say that yes, you ship Eden but, like, in a toxic relationship interpretation.
I have a very long history of shipping toxic and unhealthy age gaps ships, and I absolutely love this kind of dynamics if written correctly. I made my fair share of posts in the past rambling about the proper way to portray unhealthy relationships and not romanticise them (as well as saying that liking bad in fiction doesn't equal to condoning it in canon but we're not even in this territory with sk8).
However, that's not the case with Eden. We could argue that the relationship kind of starts like this (but it's up to discussion, in my opinion) but how it becomes post canon is the farthest from that kind of dynamics. I could understand where this is coming from from someone who doesn't like Adam and makes him to be Everything Bad That's On Earth, but I also see this kind of reaction from Adam's fans and it's a bit weird to me.
It's clear that Adam has romantic, arguably sexual, feelings for Langa. He makes it very clear during the course of the show and also in post-canon material (i.e. referring to the sk8 six group as "Langa and the (5) others" twice). I saw some people saying that Eden relies on an Adam's interpretation that it's not supported by canon, but I feel like these interactions and banters (VA event, DVD package box, him still showering Langa with flowers in the post credit scene) show otherwise.
Moving onto Langa, since I also saw a lot of people surprised that, wow, Langa seems to reciprocate??? At least it's better than people still thinking that Langa would ever reject Adam's advances in canon. This is probably a point that's very dear to me, since it's actually the basis as to why I think Eden places miles away from the toxic relationships above. The dynamics in these relationships usually goes that the older one coerces the younger and more naive one with something and exploits them in a way. Then, the younger one usually reacts and a new dynamics establishes in the couple. It's a cool thing to explore in fiction, but, again, not an Eden thing in the slightest.
First of all, Langa already is into skateboarding before meeting Adam. He didn't make Langa interested in skateboarding so he could approach him, he just saw him multiple times and only after that he decided to approach him.
When they meet for the first time, Adam isn't very much different than he usually is at S. He's still the extravagant, arrogant and self-confident legend of S. That is to say, he's not trying to appear different in Langa's eyes to install a false sense of security. Adam straight up claims him to be his prize and not only Langa isn't put off by that but this also makes him want to skate more against the other. If he wasn't genuinely interested in Adam, he would've been put off by this behaviour (like Reki is). In fact, Reki skates against Adam to prove a point, Langa skates against him because he wants to, no reasons needed. Again, during the recent VA event, after re-enacting some of the pivotal scenes in the series, Reki states that it's peaceful without Adam (his va wasn't present at the event) and Langa ~immediately~ says that he would have wanted to see some of Adam's scenes. That's not what you say about someone you don't like XD
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He probably doesn't realize that Adam calls him Eve for a while, but when he does, Langa doesn't look weirded out or annoyed by it. He is surprised by it. And it's hard to think that he didn't get the reference when someone named Adam calls him Eve. I don't want to say that he agrees to be Adam's Eve, of course, but he's fine with it. Like he's fine with Adam giving him roses and his violent behaviour in general.
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Talking about violent behaviour, he's never angry with him when Adam gets violent. He understands that such are the rules of S and during the last episode Utsumi said that she wanted them to fight with fists so she thinks that Langa would be fine with getting violent too (but after the Famous RinHaru Scene I see why she'd think that...) but that's just speculation. In ep 5, he just wants to skate with him, full stop. But also, even after seeing Adam getting extremely violent with Reki in ep 11 he's not actually angry or wants revenge. Instead, he's bent on wanting to know Adam better and teaching him the fun in skating. He rooted for Reki because he wanted to skate against him in a beef for sure but also bc he thought that the message could get across Adam even if delivered by Reki but when it didn't he wanted to do it himself. If Langa was being exploited by Adam, or groomed, or anything, he would've woken up after the Renga makeup. But, oh well, he didn't. That's because Eden was never meant to be abusive. That's not the face you show to your abuser.
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Him and Tadashi are the only one in the series with the balls of actually calling out to Adam when he goes out of line. Joe does it in ep 11, but only because he's afraid for Reki's safety. Langa has no problems with flashing Adam an annoyed gaze when he smokes instead of skating against him, and has no problem calling out his bs in ep 12. I'm p sure that if he knew about Adam's warped conception of love, he'd call out on that too. He is able and has the agency of standing up to him and he's not a passive part in the relationship. Very much different from toxic relationships, where making the other unable to react (or them escaping from such a situation) is one of the main points of the dynamics.
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There are countless ways Eden could go wrong and get toxic (the last ep showed us a pretty good example when they both got in the zone), but Reki teaching Langa the fun in skating prevented it. In a way, Reki made healthy Eden possible, but we're not ready to have this kind of talk yet XD
thanks for reading this very long post lmao
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the-acid-pear · 3 years
Text
Tumblr refuses to let me reblog the post again, so this is the second part of me reading the second btg book! ☺️
Still Chapter 211
Son on son violence
Chapter 212
This dude pretty cute ngl
Shit, rip
AAWW HIGH 5 🥺🥺
It's almost like they are a regular father and son 😭🥺💔
Chapter 213
Look how thigh those shirts are hehehoho 🥴
OYXITSITDITDLTD
Ooooh there goes my man Jyaku ready to kick some ASS
🥺😭💞
Baki really just forgot his mom eh, thought you were getting stronger for HER smh
Oh Jyaku vs Retsu? Nvm Jyaku i can only hope Retsu is nice w you
I like how most are like, confused over who to cheer for lmao
I know he won't make it but I'm cheering for Jyaku btw i like him more <33
Chapter 214
Love that title, can't believe Jyaku is gonna ask Retsu out 😍 /j
He really is just honest Igari
I love that he apologizes
Chapter 215
OJFOYDITDISTOTDG
HIS FACEEE THIS FUCKING CLOWN 😭😭😭
THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING FUNNY
Chapter 216
Burgir
GHZJDUDDRHD THEY ARE SOOO MAD
That smile so cute...
Jyaku is a king
Love it when Retsu throws that pose, though y'all know why
HDGSSGSGF you are coming to Japan wether you like it or not 🔫
Chapter 217
Finally Jyaku got serious too
WITH HIS TOES 😭
King is just obsessed i luv him
HEHE HAIRY LEGS
It does seem like Jyaku is trynna confess his love jfnshdshdf
Chapter 218
I remember i almost laugh cry with my dad when we saw this
His damn beard... 💔
THE HAND OF THE TRAITOR
He has a good point
They be calling my man Jyaku a masochist noooo yfjdhdgs
Chapter 219
Okay seems kinda into it <:/
Old man? He doesn't look that old Baki :/
That was so smart 🥺
Chapter 220
Retsu calm down please you are gonna break his back
Oh my god Retsu, oh my god.
He did apologize at least
Chapter 221
Damn dude be a little more gentle with him
Oh, get was picking him up, okay
FR FR
🥺🥺🥺
FARHDHDYFTH THE KINGGG
Chapter 222
I love how everyone completed him (except Yujiro but not surprising), these warriors are such a good team
I want to eat an apple too now
That was fast
I got distracted watching a vsauce react video sorry
Okay I'm glad a comment actually mentioned Sik
Chapter 223
Had to take a uh idk 5 hour break bc lights went out :/
Feet be fuming lmao
Ohhh that's a cool analysis
Chapter 224
What a good punch
That "please",,,
Poor Li man, having to see his brother DIE /j
No, Viêt Long, i have not been hit by a truck before.
Chapter 225
It's so funny how Jyaku lost bc he fought a main charac and only those win
Sad day for the Chinese citizens
Mf got tits in his back
This is gonna be so goodddd
Chapter 226
Look at the size of his tits, the slut
INSTAGRAM INFLUENCER POSE WOOO
These two are cool fighters
Chapter 227
Old man showing skin
His smile is so fucked up lmao
Chapter 228
Baki what the FUCK are you wearing?
I just remembered when Hana did a flip, that was so good
Retsu babey 🥺
I love how confused Yujiro looks
Chapter 229
Hey, i recognize that name...
Kaku just too op
Yujiro you are gonna pop your testicles if you do that with your leg
Chapter 230
God that's such a good threat
Love Retsu's confusion
Damn bitch you saying we gotta keep up w this whore cuz you were too slow? Ffs Kaku 😢
I love when you can tell someone is still hanging around just quietly by seeing their response in a comment
Chapter 231
God this just feels so good, to see Yujiro actually scared 😍
YOOO THAT'S POG
Chapter 232
I wanna finish this book and start the next one grrr
This fight is so satisfying
That last bit is so cringe but whatever that's okay
Fight so controversial comments were deactivated
Chapter 233
Itagaki hincha de boquita el más grande? 😳 /j
Okay yeah it IS just rude
Hohoooo shit getting nice
Chapter 234
This asshole lmao
Yuji-chan really went "how many times do i have to teach you this lesson, old man?!"
Mfs be doing Jojo references in the comments lol
Chapter 235
GTFO WITH THAT LOGIC RETSU IM SORRY CHINA IS LOSING BUT GET LOSTTTT AJSGAJGS
Ffs Kaku you are doomed 😢💔
Yujiro so strong my mouse disconnected
Chapter 236
Abs in his back...
Crying and shaking that is NOT true
DON'T FEED HIS EGO, KAKU
LIONS CAN BE KILLED BY TIGERS TOO!!!!
I thought Yujiro was bleeding for a second there smh
Chapter 237
OKAY YEAH IT IS HIS BLOOD ITS COMING OUT OF HIS NOSE ITS NOT MUCH BUT HE BLED
THE HEAD APPLAUSE
HE'S SO UPSET LMAOOO
Yujiro surprised is good shit
GSJDUFTHSTD
KAKU YOU LEGEND LMAO
Kaku has boyboss energy
Chapter 239
This cover almost gives me a stroke
I love how they all just shat their pants
These minor Chinese characters were so good tbh, sadly i don't think they will ever return
Don't worry Retsu, we the viewers have seen a man revive before
King i don't think any of us understands
It really is
CAN MEN IN THIS FRANCHISE JUST OPEN BOTTLES REGULARLY?!
Oh my god i though Yujiro was sitting on the air for a second i almost cry 😭
Coca cola must have paid Itagaki /j
Chapter 240
Oh so the Kaioh part takes the name, not the surname
...is Yujiro wearing a floral shirt? 😭
I LOVE THAT ENDING SO MUCH 🥺😭
Jyaku has his eyes fixated on Retsu eh, proud of having him come to Japan lmao
Chapter 241
HORRIBLE fit Baki
CHILDHOOD SAGA PART 2? 😰
Jk though i do miss Yuri 🥺
Oh hey Jr
You gonna fuck his girl, bro?
Chapter 242
So straight forward lmao
I'm starting to appreciate Baki's feminist ass every day even more
AAAA GRANDPAAA 🥺🥺💞
This page didn't allow me to call two mfs virgins smh, 1984
Chapter 243
Grandpa they shrunk you
Chapter 244
Kings idc about this
Okay true but also he's 70 dude pls... Though idk if this guy will go thru worse than Jack lmao
Such a nice lad
Chapter 245
Baki being such a feminist icon is so meaningful considering how his parents were,,,
MY MAN IS BACKKK AND AS DAPPER AS EVER
Doppo he's called Ali Jr how are you surprised?
OH MY GOD I JUST REALIZED HIS EYE PATCH HAS A PATTERN THAT'S SO COOL 🥺🥺😢💞
These men love throwing their glasses eh
Chapter 246
If only Igari and Toba had done this lol
OKAY THATS COOL I LIKE THAT
Me lo re devaluaron a mí pelado eh
HEHE OOOOH NICE 😳
Scenes that give me a boner
CHU...
Such a good callback...
Chapter 247
My man got serious, sweet
Doppo has been trying out his luck a bit too much like he's been betting with his life an uncomfortable lot like king do you need to talk? Are you okay? First asking Gouki to kill him now this like, is everything alright Doppo?
YEAH A BIT FUCKED UP TO THINK ABOUT
I love that blocking technique
OSHWOWHIWWH "gay ass Orochi, out of option so he touching dick" SHUT UPPP 😭😭💀
I really wish he got kicked in the nuts again see if he's still using his technique
Chapter 248
Poor guys thought he was bout to get murdered
A kiss? 😏 /j
When i saw this in the anime i actually thought Orochi was going to die, i was gonna get sooo angry
Chapter 249
What a way to cockblock em
Feminist icon
Jack is that the only sweater you own?
Chapter 250
I have been thinking of that scene of him eating the whole steak a lot
Jr like 🥺
Imagine being stupid enough to tease Jack like, i get he defeated two masters but they are NOTHING compared to this monster
Imagine jack just smoked some weed right there lmao
Jack needs to bite people more
Chapter 251
My shitty ass son gave me parkinson's
Jack that's not how human anatomy works what the fuck did Kureha do to your body spine?
Chapter 252
DAMN JR WHAT A FAT ASS
Looked like Jack was going for a handful
Those techniques must fuck your neck up so bad
Okay Jack you are going a bit far now don't cha think?
Chapter 253
You are tempting your luck sunny boy
Look at that, you pissed him off!
You cannot just know out jack hanma bro
HHH
This was so stupid yet, unironically, iconic
Chapter 254
Bruh i thought it said Pog 😭, ain't manslaughter poggers Mr Hanma?
OKAY THANKS JACK
Such a simp he downed that coffee cup
Grandpa put here cockblocking
Chapter 255
"no he didn't >:/"
These two masters are a pair of fucking idiots like understand this i love my grandpa and i love my man but mfs have to take the L for this one time sksgwjgshgw
Gouki bro my senses gonna shut down if you put your sucks against the dirt again OUGH sensory hell 😭
FOR FUCKING REAL JR
STOP ENABLING THE OLD MAN!! WKSGKSGSJSHDD for once I'm on Viêt's side 😭
Chapter 256
Hoho Gouki out here getting a panty shot 😳
Grandpa i love you but this was unnecessary
Chapter 257
Kozue should wear a Korn tshirt
GET HIS ASS KOZUE
OWHWLWGISGSJWG 😭😭 MF JUST STANDING THERE LIKE A FREAK I LOVE HIM BUT I HATE HIM SM!!!
Love how consistently round his hands are, king got no knuckles
HEY DONT CALL MY MAN A FREAK KOZUE
King hasn't changed his clothes ever since i see
His shoes look so nice...
OKAY OKAY HE HAS A POINT AT LEAST, HE AT LEAST ACCEPTED HE LOST BUT HE'S STILL BUTTHURT FROM IT SKSGAJGS BUT HE ADMITS IT!!
Doppo i love you but shut UPPP you lost get over it!! You are just going for the rematch bc you have the higher ground against a injured guy!!! Like Shibukawa didn't have time but you were already getting serious!! Hhhgrrrrrr doppo i love you but I'm going to bark
Hehe nvm he still hella fine... keep talking king 🥴
This was so mean of him sjsgwjwg
Chapter 258
Low-key starting to believe these two mfs plotted against Jr sjshsj
THAT FACE AKSGWJGS just 😐
If i didn't know you would get your ass handed in a plate i would be a lil mad he's planning on being that savage
He has been thru worse, sunny boy
Niceee
Tbh. I don't care anymore. Doppo is in the wrong, but GOD I'm a simp and i love seeing him fight 😍😍🥴
Yeah a comment mentioned it, we all were on Jr side until he threatened to kill Doppo Orochi like, even if not everyone here is as horny as me we all like an og fella
I also love how the prisoners really changed them all, the scars (both physical and mental) those 5 left will be remembered lol
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retroateez · 4 years
Text
Prophecy - Chapter Five
i still don’t properly understand how this website works but slowly,,, i am learning.
also if ur enjoying this au please like/reblog bc it rlly helps me out ty x
wc; 2649
A month had passed since Yeosang took you under his wing, and he (thankfully) hadn't decided to kill you.
Although the trip to harvest the sand mandrakes often made you think otherwise.
Despite that, Yeosang had been patient with you as you grew accustomed to his lifestyle. Oddly, he trusted in you immediately, sharing with you secrets he wouldn't dare tell other strangers.
"I'm a mage," he had told you suddenly over porridge one morning. He clenched his large palms into equally large fists and laid his forearm upon the table, facing upwards towards the canopy of jade leaves above your heads. "You see those blue lines? They're called veins, and our blood runs through these."
You nodded silently, unsure of what his point was.
"In mine, flows blood as well as chaos," he explained. "Almost anybody can do basic magic, provided you're taught by the right people."
Using his other hand, he ran a gentle finger down the stripe of his prominent veins, and the cerulean bumps bubbled and boiled into a startling shade of sunlight. You squinted in awe; you swore you could see a lightning storm rattling around inside of his arm.
"But only those born into chaos possess the abilities to truly wield it." Yeosang snapped his fingers, and the bolts of lightning in his veins returned to the cool, sea blue they were before.
He had grinned at you then, proud that his magic had impressed you. He didn't get to show off his magic often; most people would trade his life and talent for money in a heartbeat.
Except now, Yeosang wore a frown as you pleaded with him.
"Why can't you teach me any magic?" you beg. "You said yourself that anybody can be taught! By the looks of it you're well up to the task!"
You follow him like an excited puppy, bouncing along behind him and pawing at the back of his shirt to get his attention. Yeosang had his back turned to you, intent on finding the wolfsbane he had been asked to find before you arrived in his life and threw it slightly (majorly) off balance.
"I said no, Iris" he murmurs, keeping his eyes on the mossy ground.
You weren't sure where Yeosang had gotten the name 'Iris' from, or why he started calling you that in the first place. It certainly wasn't your name. Not that you had ever told him your name. He had never asked, so you assumed he didn't want to know. Either way, you didn't care, nor did you find it particularly important, so you let him call you whatever he pleased.
"Why?" you whine, grabbing the bottom of his cotton shirt and pulling it. "What harm can it do to just teach me a little magic?"
He sighs harshly, and turns to face you. Scowl evident, he shoves a handful of wolfsbane into a basket and grabs you firmly by the shoulders.
"I said no. Do not make me repeat myself. Do I make myself clear?" His eyes burn into yours and guilt washes over you; you hadn't meant to make him angry.
"But-"
"I said," he growls. "Do I make myself clear?"
You stare up meekly into his eyes, seeing the same flashes of firebolts from his veins, now crashing around his pupils. You nod, not uttering a word. Yeosang lets you go with a soft huff, and heads back up towards the house. If you'd have known he would get so angry with you, you wouldn't have pestered him so badly.
A few more days pass, and neither you or Yeosang bring up the incident in the woods. You, in fear of angering him again, and you assume Yeosang just didn't want to mention the subject at all. Maybe it was a sensitive topic for him? He acts like it never happened, resuming teaching you how to cook various stews and soups, testing you on the properties of sage and echinacea.
"Echinacea... helps burns?" you hazard a guess, Yeosang's face contorting to an expression of pain informing you that once again, you were wrong.
"Echinacea helps colds and flu." he corrects you with a sigh.
Frustrated, you hurl your notebook down onto the desk in Yeosang's study, crossing your arms and exhaling harshly, much like a horse. His study was as breathtaking as the rest of his house. It was smaller compared to the main, circular room and had no windows. With no natural light, Yeosang had strewn luminescent mushrooms across the ceiling and draped them all over the walls. They were long and thin, but the heads and stems shone bright in tones of seafoam green and azure blue. They made the room glow a strange, ocean mash of colour, often making Yeosang look as if the ocean floor had sprouted atop his head, dyeing his neutral blonde locks with a very startling sea themed concoction.
The room had an earthy smell, as did the entire house. You theorised Yeosang either had an addiction to growing plants in his house, or plainly a plant addiction. Still, the air throughout his home was always immaculately clean, so you couldn't complain about the slight dirt smell, or the soil that was always clinging to your arms and legs.
"I'm no good at this, Yeosang!" you cry. "I don't know why I bother!"
You glare angrily at the wooden planks of the floor, blinking back frustrated tears. You desperately wanted to prove to Yeosang that you were capable of learning something worthwhile. After all, your survival depended on it; why would he keep you around, feed you, house you, protect you, if you couldn't offer anything back to him? More than that, it actually gave you a purpose, something more than just stealing your way through the game of life. Here you were, handed an opportunity to learn and, provided you were any good at it, use the skills to help people in the future instead of stealing the products of other people's hard work and determination.
You're dragged from your thoughts by Yeosang crouching down at your figure sitting on his desk chair. He softly places his rough hands on your knees and offers a rare, but soft and caring smile.
"You'll get the hang of it ,Iris, don't fret. I failed my alchemy exam five times before I finally passed it." His eyes crinkle at the corners when he hears your quiet laugh at his comment.
"Only an idiot would fail five times," you quip. "What happened to three time's the charm?"
"Charm is a load of bullshit," he remarks. "Everything is decided by fate, you know that don't you?"
You nod in response. Everybody knows your destiny is your destiny. It can't be changed, altered or avoided. You wonder if magic has any effect on destiny. After all, before meeting Yeosang you had no idea magic was real in the first place, so really the possibilites could be endless.
"Does magic work on destiny?" You ask the golden haired mage.
Yeosang leans back on his heels, glancing up at the glowing fungi as he ponders his answer.
"Yes and no," he admits. "No magic can directly change, or redirect your fate. But magic can delay it, sometimes quite significantly"
"How so?"
Yeosang lets go of your knees and with a grunt, falls back so he's sitting on the floor in front of you.
"Are you familiar with Virgil's Aenied?"
He takes your silence as a 'no'.
"The Aeneid is an epic poem, centered around a single man named Aeneas, whose destiny is to discover the land that would become Rome. There's a lot that goes on inbetween," Yeosang explains. "but Juno, the goddess of love and marriage, despised Aeneas, and did everything in her power to make sure Aeneas would never be the catalyst of Rome's foundations."
"But Juno couldn't stop him from doing that, could she?" You connect the dots fairly quickly, and Yeosang nods.
"Correct. Even the gods have to abide by the laws of destiny. Jupiter himself unravels the scrolls of time and fate, and nobody can change them. But what Juno did succeed with, was delaying Aeneas as much as possible. Setting him back years and years from the destiny bestowed upon him from the very beginning, at the sack of Troy."
"Do the gods powers count as magic though? You're not a god" You think aloud. You think you catch a wave of offense wash over Yeosang's face, but it passes so quickly you can't be sure.
"In a way, I suppose you can view it as a divine type of magic, magic so powerful that people on our realm couldn't possibly wield it without certain death, or other circumstance..." The mage stands up, bones in his knees cracking as he moves.
"Anyway," he continues. "My point was that your destiny is exactly that. It's been written in the stars since the very dawn of time, and you physically cannot escape it. You may delay it, but the time will come where you will have to fulfill your role in destiny's prophecy. The first step to that though, my young student, is passing your alchemy exam!"
You and Yeosang spent the next couple of days pouring over his hand-written notebooks, reading and re-reading his scrawled handwriting and weirdly endearing drawings. Him presenting you with various herbs and smoking liquids, making you guess what they were used for and forcing you to eat and drink the gross ones when you got the answers wrong. You hated it, but his method of teaching was rather effective.
"We're going to have to make a trip into the city," he tells you one gorgeously warm afternoon. "I've run out of primrose and the only source I can get it is the kingdom."
Yeosang hadn't taken you to the kingdom of Ateez yet, nor had he visited there since your arrival, but the way he spoke about it terrified you to your core. He refused to go unless he needed to, no pleasant day trips or lesiurely strolls. For him, it was dangerous.
"The King has a special band of witch-hunters," Yeosang explained to you as he grabbed his brown satchel and coin purse. "Of course, they're just referred to as 'guards', he wouldn't want rival kingdoms knowing he was explicitly prejudiced towards anybody." he spat.
"Have you met the king?" you ask quietly, handing him a notebook with a list of items you needed to purchase.
Yeosang notably hesitated.
"Yes... he helped me a lot. He gave me this land, and in return I occasionally do him favours."
"I thought he didn't like mages?"
"Hatred for magic kinds is rooted in fear," he turns to you. "Whether or not you like a mage, it is always better to have one on your side, as opposed to having one against you."
"So if the king likes you, why are you so worried about going to the kingdom?"
Yeosang wedges a soil brown hat onto your head, pulling it down over your eyes.
"He doesn't like me," he corrects you. "He merely tolerates me because I posses something that may prove very useful to him one day. Anyway, enough questions, small one. We have plants to buy!"
---
You wished Yeosang had told you just how long the walk to Ateez was before you agreed to go with him. Technically you didn't have a choice, but still. You'd been wearing 'tailored' versions of Yeosang's clothes (tailored being he had ripped the excess material off), as your own were ruined beyond repair during the storm. They were too big for you even still, the sleeves of his white cotton shirt coming past your fingertips and copper breeches almost hanging off you if not for the makeshift belt, (wine red ribbon Yeosang used to bunch flowers together) tied around your waist. As grateful as you were, his clothes were weighing you down and making the journey painfully longer.
"We're almost there, Iris!" Yeosang calls back to you. He was wearing an outfit similar to yours, except his actually fit and suited him. He was extremely good looking, you'd admit. What with his piercing cobalt eyes and effortlessly wavy hair. You wondered why he had been alone before he met you, and for what reason.
You turn your attention to where Yeosang was pointing and felt your stomach drop immediately. It felt as if a pit had opened at the base of your torso and every one of your organs was being sucked into the abyss. Despite the uncomfortable feeling seeping throughout your body, you felt compelled towards the miles of kingdom below you. You could see almost the entire kingdom from your position on top of the hill. You realised too, that the western side was situated on the edge of a cliff, with your best friend, the ocean, waiting readily thousands of feet below. You felt uneasy thinking about the drop.
Between the bottom of the hill and the gates of Ateez, was a vast stretch of forest. Towering oaks bundled together like a poor family on a cold night, protecting one another with what little comfort they could provide. You didn't want to imagine what creatures lurked in the woods either, having a hunch that they wouldn't welcome strangers into their habitats with welcome arms.
"We don't have to walk down this hill, do we?" you gulped.
"No," Yeosang said. "We can just jump."
You stared at him.
"Of course we have to walk down it, Iris."
You both began the everlasting descent down the hill. Luckily, a dirt path had been stamped into the grass by plenty of other people making the same journey as you.
No matter how much you tried to push down the growing feeling in your stomach, it wouldn't go away.
You could hardly explain the feeling either. Like your intenstines were lined with the prettiest hydrangeas, and somebody was tugging at the flowers with the strength of a thousand horses, but regardless of how hard they pulled, the roots stayed firmly put.
You surveyed the kingdom, the endless rows of tiny houses and roads, the pathway up to the gates of the castle and the grand towers standing in the castle grounds. On the highest part of the city, towards the east, was the most important building of all; the castle itself. Overlooking the entire of Ateez which stretched out for miles.
"Once we reach the bottom of this hill," you ask. "Won't we have to walk all the way to the gates?"
Yeosang glances back over his shoulder at you, pushing his wavy blonde hair out of his face.
"No, they have horses and carriages that take people to the city, thank the gods."
After approximately 3 decades, you and Yeosang reach the bottom of the hill (more like a mountain, you think). Yeosang guides you over to a line of carriages, attached to the biggest, bulkiest horses you've ever seen. The ones you'd seen back at home were simple, baggage carrying horses. Nothing compared to these absolute monsters. Your companion hands the coachman of a carriage a handful of coins, and you both clamber into the back.
Throughout the journey, the hole in your stomach continues to expand, growing deeper and wider that you're surprised it hasn't totally consumed you. The closer you get to the kingdom gates, the more and more nauseous you feel, the beating of your heart and pounding in your head keeping perfect time with the canter of the Shire horse pulling you along.
The second cog, hand-crafted but not yet complete, waits patiently. He cannot continue welding it until the next steps are taken; until destiny is fulfilled. Until then, he sets the half-finished cog on his workshop table, then he too, sits patiently. Fate is a waiting game, and everyone is a pawn to fate.
Chapter Six
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theskyexists · 4 years
Text
Spyfall part 2
SO!
I enjoyed it a lot. I’m embarrassed to say. I think it’s Chibs’ best yet. And that’s embarrassing for him.
I enjoyed: the pace remaining super high, the Doctor getting to be badass, extremely clever, snappy, annoyed as hell, and getting to win, win, win, keep on winning. I loved Ada, the sorta subtle feminism, I loved Noor- how badass SHE was in the face of Nazis, only twitching when the guns went off. I loved how Ada and Noor were like: wow. wow - having that moment of enormity at what’s happening. Ada saying the Doctor is wise and she trusts her. It was clever how she beat the Master by using a phone, tied the theme just slightly back together. Loved the Master’s alliance with the creatures being uneasy. I loved how the Master actually had to live through the twentieth century bc he got stuck - and the allusion to terrible historical darkness in it. Loved the plane bit, with the instructions and her knowing that Graham was talking back to the screen. Loved how she forgot to do the plane bit bc it carries on the trend of her just FORGETTING about her companions’ safety (???) - EVEN AFTER they almost got obliterated???
LOTS of dialogue i loved - almost everything the Doctor said had me going: YES! YES!!! THAT’S IT!!!!!
“And I’m not treating you like a fool.” after rambling about the whole situation. All the ways she disses the Master. Loved her annoyance at him. Loved their intensity. Loved her disbelief at him saying Gallifrey was gone. Basically, Jodie does phenomenal work in almost every scene.
Loved the intimacy of the morse code telepathy scene, actually love the kneel scene (the shots and acting MAKE it, so close up and the Doctor so annoyed) and the Master going down on his knees only to unintentionally reveal that he’s an idiot lol, loved the intensity on top of the Eiffel tower. Loved the brooding and darkness and such of the Doctor sitting around the TARDIS. Once, again, amazing acting there.
Loved how sweet the memory wiping was. She TOUCHED them. She never touches anybody. The assurance that the fascists won’t win (Rose vibes), and catching Noor before she hit the bed. Telling Ada she’s amazing and will figure it out herself with this look of love on her face, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
What I feel conflicted about and disliked (and it was bad): The Doctor going back to WIPING PEOPLE’S MEMORIES EXPLICITLY UNCONSENSUALLY???? ARE YOU SERIOUS???!!! I was screaming on the inside. It was unnecessary? WHOLLY UNNECESSARY. Graham asks: are you replacing us? NO! the Doctor says - because she ignores Ada’s plea to see more and TAKES EVERYTHING SHE’S SHOWN HER FROM HER. Historically significant people have no rights I guess? NOT EVEN TO THEIR OWN MEMORIES??? did she just Donna two whole damn people and make her sweet speech and assurance completely irrelevant??? AFTER CLARA AND BILL???
What was bad: The overarching story set up here. No reference to Missy at all, no placing the Master in the timeline, explaining nothing about why he is like this, destroying Gallifrey - AGAIN?? The Timeless Child?  WHAT ARE YOU DOING. This is like destroying both Moffats and RTD’s eras in one fell swoop. WHY.
Daniel Barton is a loose thread. Him killing his mum was a great villain moment but also? led to nothing. Guess she was the only one who got to die - actually die - and Barton gets away scot-free, having destroyed the companions’ lives - is there gonna be no follow-up on the companions getting their lives ruined? Feel like that might have been a significant scene by the end there - them sitting in the smoking ruins and having a reason to be pretty damn upset with her and demanding answers.
The monsters were from ‘beyond’ this universe and had their own plan but then the Master came in and changed the plan and now they can’t use human DNA to...download themselves into the world? and.....now they’re angry at the Master but they had no backup plan? Are they still just spread around the universe waiting to get in? Is there going to be a follow up about that?? because these are the most underdeveloped monsters since Prisoner Zero. And not very scary at all.
As I feared, nothing made sense. Why try and kill them with a car? shits and giggles. Why kill C? shits and giggles. Why pretend to be O when he could have easily zapped them from the very beginning? shits and giggles. Why was he stuck in the first place? If the Doctor could use the dancing statue remote control then why couldn’t the Master use the creatures again to jump forward? nonsensical writing.
Worse, why was the Master portrayed as so giggly and self-satisfied in part 1 and so angry and teary and vulnerable in part 2. i liked the giggling, but i guess the reveal was just a high??
There are so many lost opportunities. Why was the implication/possibility of the multi-verse floated and then explicitly discarded IN DIALOGUE. Why have the Master be a spy but then refuse to make a companion an unwitting agent. Why have the Master flirt with Yaz, traumatise her, place her back in the team, and then NOT make her that agent?! Why have Daniel Barton, the third shitty man in power in this series get away ??? Also the theme on your data getting stolen only worked so-so because it didn’t really have anything to do with getting your dna fried so you could serve as a databank - having a device would have been enough anyway. (and how presumptuous to say that EVERYBODY on the planet has a device in the first place). How was them knowing stuff about you important to their plan? Also I had no sense of what would happen to Earth and humanity if the creatures came through - which is bad if you want people to care about it not happening. Like, ok, so people die when that happens? uh yep. coolio. Daniel Barton and the monsters were upstaged as villains by the Master at every turn.
Anyway. when you think about it, what’s shit in the grand scheme of things in fact hugely outweighs everything else.
But i really enjoyed it.
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geniusbuilttm · 5 years
Text
BMC 4/6/2019 2 PM Show
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Soooo I saw BMC yesterday with @awkwardpersontm and it was an amazing day so I have a lot of notes from the show..... a L O T
This is all me copy+pasting from a note I made on my phone so sorry it’s so long
ALSO SPOILERS!!! LOTS OF SPOILERS SO SCROLL IF U DONT WANNA GET SPOILED
Also signatures (those who came to the signing): George, both Jason’s, Gerard, and Anthony
Pre-Show
Talked to Zachary so much and he was signing a little while talking
He is so excited about giving everyone their custom pins and talking to them
The pin this month is ‘I ❤️ Play Rehearsal’, last month was a SQUIP pill (green and white), and February was a Michael Mell pin
Here is a pic (also Zachary is amazing I adore him and love him sm):
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He geeked out about my pants and told me I need to show my pics of them to George Salazar
Jake’s understudy went today and Anthony ROCKED IT!!!
Act 1
Jeremy’s mom went to Long Island with her prom king bf
Jake’s whole character starts to change since he first talks to Christine
The book Christine is reading is a worn book about Barbara Streisand
He loves Sbarro bc his parents used to take him there (he tells her about it during the mall)
Wolverine is v creepy and swallows a lot
They have a mailbox
Mr heeres table was full of newspapers and cereal
During TPG George didn’t catch the controller so they scrambled so it wouldn’t fall off the side and did the part until after Mr. Heere on the floor
Jeremy when he first sees rich is like I’m not in the mood I had a bad daaaaaay then proceeds to get swirlied in the toilet
Outfit changes per day
Michael has a vest over his hoodie the second day
Squips countdown before Christine says ‘guess there’s a part of me that wants to’
Upgrade got replaced and completely revamped
George wasn’t apart of the ensemble of SQUIp song
Jenna has an adorable pineapple bag
Jeremy and Brooke made out in the bleachers at the football field
The wombat mascot of the school changed to an elephant
The SQUIp pill was huuuuge
Michael’s explanation of what exto cooler tastes like: *deadpan voice* ghosts
Brooke and Jeremy both hate being the player two
Chloe kicking Christine’s backpack aaaaaaall the way stage left and it hit the wall
Me and Mikaela (awkwardpersonTM) in second row got hit with confetti that Squip tossed
He doesn’t squirt out the lotion to masturbate anymore
Squip solo before Be More Chill Part 1
Karl has lots of sequins
Mall cop Jake is replaced with bedazzled af dude
Lots of Michael references when he is ONB’d and props and stage stuff covers him and apparently headphones aren’t allowed in the halls
Chloe is scared of losing attention
Jeremy is halo’d like a king with light when looking down at Michael at the football field
New patches on Michael’s hoodie back: Atari, floppy disk, and one other I don’t remember rn
Jeremy smiled and was proud of being a masturbator
The kids in the new song all had a way to connect to Jeremy and we got bg info on them a bit more that way so it makes more sense why Jeremy says yes and is ‘suddenly popular’
Act 2
I got too caught up after with hurrying for stage door but
Jeremy isn’t late for the Halloween party this time
Christine is a princess still but instead of having her old Juliet costume, she tried to be someone she wasn’t by dressing as a slutty princess (it also had a hoop skirt that was short)
Halloween has an extra bit st the end
Do you wanna hang is a lot better with no awk lap dance
Jake unfortunately no longer hops in through the window
The entire time of the Halloween party yoy see rich getting more and more panicked and in pain with his squip
He takes a jack o lantern and starts the fire with that
The army stuff is still there in pants song
Before pants song they have an actual news broadcast on the tv on the table they recorded
Michael tries to awkwardly do military stuff back and Mr. Heere does it in return to make him feel better
Smoking effect and the mells have a lawn chair up front, garden gnomes, and a plastic pink flamingo
Jeremy tells Jenna about what the squips are before she drinks the beaker
Jeremy ends up hitting Michael and punching him in the nose and I think breaking it?
Jenna says that she refuses to not be connected and has the squiped kids grab him and she knocks him out
Michael wakes up as Jeremy is confronted with Christine and no fake out kiss attempt is made
He explains that one destroys them all before they all go
SQUIp actually wants to take over the world
SQUIp: you helped me realized what I was meant to do (context: take over the word); Jeremy: ... ah SHIT
He gets angry at Jeremy after he originally is upset and sad that he was shut off
Jeremy explains that he wanted to save Christine and that he didn’t knowing shutting one off shut them all off and Michael says that Jeremy’s less of an asshole than he thought
Rich has realistic burn makeup on the side of his face (not really real but i gasped)
Jenna/Brooke/Chloe/Jake call themselves Jeremy’s Squad
They have actual closure for the issues, even if very brief, for what happens during the show
Squip still faceplants onto the bed
Jeremy’s voice is glitching out as he insults Michael
On Squip’s anime villain look his lit up chest piece reacts and freaks tf out when Michael shows the Mt Dew Red (which is literally printed out paper around a bottle)
Jake clings to the bottle during most of it and dumps most out into the sink
Brooke wants to be seen and Chloe wants to be liked (they say they see/like each other)
Basically everyone is creepy hugging each other after being Squipped like they’re blissed out happy
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authorpocketcow · 5 years
Text
Pooh Characters as Queer Environmentalists
No seriously.  I had a very vivid dream involving all the Winnie The Pooh characters as a group of enthusiastic (and queer) environmentalists who meet once a week to talk about environment things because they’re nerds.
Starring Christopher Robin, Pooh, Tigger, Rabbit, Kanga, Roo, Gopher, Eeyore, and Piglet.
·       Christopher Robin
o   33 years old
o   Head/leader/founder of the Environmentalist Group
o   Really interested in saving the whales
o   Chill dude, but kind of an airhead
o   Everyone thinks he’s some kinda office worker
o   One day someone accidentally found out that he’s the CEO of some green-planet organization and runs this group for fun to see what kinds of ideas he can get and to see what people think of environmentalist efforts
o   He always credits people for their ideas, but people assumed that he just worked for the company, not that he ran the damned thing
o   A pansexual icon
o   Has been to every single pride event that their city has ever had
o   Rumour has it he started the pride events
o   Wilder rumour has it he threw the first stone at the Stonewall Riots
o   Even wilder rumour has it that he’s an immortal vampire who survives on the blood of homophobes
o   He won’t deny any of these rumours but has yet to confirm it
o   Has a genderqueer partner that literally nobody has met
o   Seriously, not even Pooh
·       Pooh
o   29 years old
o   Really wants to save the bees
o   Like, REALLY wants to save the bees
o   Vegetarian, but because he doesn’t like meat
o   Massive sweet tooth; dentists hate him!
o   Ace/Aro
o   Loves children, wants to adopt his own someday
o   Babysits Roo all the time
o   Kanga and him are best friends
o   He brings little sweets for Roo every meeting
o   Perhaps a little bit of a pothead but he’s not addicted
o   He just smokes a joint once in a while to chill out
o   A stereotypical “make love not war” hippie
o   Nice to everyone all the time
o   Cries when someone is mean to him
o   Gets uncomfortable when people hit on him
o   Christopher’s little brother
o   A visual artist; uses lots of colours and sells his art at galleries and markets
·       Tigger
o   27 years old
o   ADHD
o   Like SUPER ADHD
o   Gay
o   Hit on Pooh once but when Pooh got uncomfy he backed off
o   Thought maybe Pooh was uncomfortable with gays and was confused and sad
o   When he found out Pooh was Ace/Aro he totally understood
o   They’re good friends now
o   Really wants to save rainforests and trees
o   A freelance writer; his books are elementary school Magic Treehouse shit
o   Very much into fantasy shit, his non-children’s series’ lore is always the deepest mindfuck ever, how the hell did he even come up with that
o   Bestselling author tho
o   Kinda famous tbh but he doesn’t like media attention
o   He just thinks everybody should have fun all the time
o   Does he vape? Probably.  Has anyone ever actually seen him do it?  No.
o   Does he sleep? Probably.  Has anyone ever actually seen him do it?  Once.
o   Kanga caught him powernapping when she came into one of the first meetings really early, but all she did was put a blanket on him and leave to go to the convenience store or something to stay out for a bit longer so he could rest
o   He didn’t know who it was until a bit later he figures it was her since she’s always knitting and it was a very pretty knitted thing
o   That’s his momma figure now
·       Rabbit
o   25 years old
o   Vegan and very in-your-face about it
o   “Bugs are important to the ecosystem but boy do I hate them in my garden”
o   Scifi enthusiast
o   Post-apocalyptic things slightly terrify him because he believes that’s how the world is gonna go
o   A bit of a conspiracy theorist
o   Genuinely believes the government is vaguely spying on everybody
o   Did Bush do 9/11?  Who knows… but the moon landing was real, and the earth is round, don’t be dumb
o   Just identifies as queer, doesn’t like labels
o   A very organized person but when he’s very upset perfectionism scares him bc he thinks he’s not ever gonna be good enough and will mess things up on purpose
o   Has a long-distance boyfriend
o   A farmer
·       Kanga
o   38 years old
o   Divorced trans woman
o   Has a 5 year old son that she fostered as a baby and adopted when he was 4
o   Recycles aggressively
o   Calls everyone “dear”
o   Uses reusable bags and plastic containers all the time
o   Knits a lot, everybody always gets scarves or mitts or hats for Christmas
o   Usually in the design of ‘planet earth’, but also makes pride flag designs and takes requests for fave colour schemes
o   Vegetarian but not aggressive ab it like Rabbit is
o   You know what she is a bit aggressive about? Recycling
o   If you throw something that’s recyclable in the garbage in front of her...
o   Lord help you
o   Last man who did that was never seen again
o   Okay that’s a lie, he was seen two weeks later
o   But he was advocating for a save the whales organization on the side of the road and wearing all thrift store clothing
o   She traumatized him into throwing himself into the environmentalist pit headfirst
o   Thinks Gopher is just a big softie; is the only one who is super nice to him all the time (besides her son, and Pooh who is nice to literally everyone)
o   Kinda has a thing for the grumpy man but won’t admit it
o   She’s like an accountant or something, nobody knows what she does for a living but she seems to be well-off
·       Roo
o   The adopted 5 year old son
o   A little bit spoiled, but not just by Kanga, by everyone in the group
o   Loves sitting in on the meetings
o   His first sentence at 15 months was “recycle that!”
o   Loves blue because of recycle bins
o   Literally wears nothing but blue
o   Will accept things that are less than 100% blue as long as its more than 50% blue
o   Also likes things with pink on them
o   Thinks Tigger is the coolest person ever
o   Doesn’t understand all of Tigger’s books but reads them anyway
o   Except the non-children’s ones of course
o   Reads everything he can get his hands on
o   Don’t let him get his hands on anything inappropriate for a 5 year old
o   Asks a lot of questions
o   Everyone adores him
o   His mama is his favourite person on the planet but also Mr Tigger is so cool
o   He likes Mr Gopher too, he thinks Mr Gopher is great because of “how happy Mama is when he’s around”
·       Eeyore
o   23 years old
o   Has depression
o   Trans boy
o   Just really wants friends
o   Wants to help the planet
o   Is a massive pessimist that thinks the world is doomed
o   Very smart boy
o   Talks about CO2 emissions and carbon taxes
o   A university student studying some kinda chemical engineering
o   Very quiet
o   Bit of a crush on piglet tbh
o   Has a big love for superheroes without powers because he loves the idea of things being solvable through hard work mixed with passion and technology
o   Except he doesn’t believe it because his depression makes him super pessimistic
o   Also a big tech nerd
·       Gopher
o   45 years old
o   Landlord of their meeting place
o   Grumpy ass old man
o   Sometimes people are grumpy right back to him and he’s ok with that
o   Actually a soft spot for these weird hippies and joins them sometimes but says its because he wants to make sure they’re not damaging the place (they know that’s a big fat lie but won’t say anything)
o   Will fight anyone who mocks them
o   Has actually fought someone who mocked them
o   Has not told them about said fight
o   Especially adores Roo
o   Thinks Kanga is a bit of an odd woman but also thinks she’s very pretty
o   Repressed bisexual
o   He thinks nobody knows he’s bi but eventually when he kinda mentions it he realizes everyone knows
o   Specifically, Piglet and Kanga are super supportive
o   He definitely actually has a crush on Kanga, who knitted him a bisexual flag scarf once
o   He wears it all the time but will vehemently deny that it’s the same scarf when called on it
o   Big brawny weirdo
o   Was a football player in college and can definitely bench-press everyone
o   Works construction now, which is why he’s still in good shape
o   Actually a brilliant man, can architect and calculate like nobody’s business
o   Will help Piglet with his mathematics homework in exchange for Piglet teaching him more things about the LGBT+ community
o   After a while he realizes that perhaps genderfluid fits him well but Piglet is sworn to secrecy
o   Has a daughter who is institutionalized for her mental health issues that grew beyond his care
o   Piglet reminds him of his daughter and he’s very protective
o   That’s why he legit fought that asshole who mocked the “little F****t hippies”
o   He was almost arrested for assault on that one actually
o   The cop was a buddy of his and 100% believed the “defense of those who can’t defend themselves” explanation that Gopher had
o   Got off with a warning and fined for “disturbing the peace” or some mundane BS
·       Piglet
o   21 years old
o   Gay and demiboy
o   Anxiety disorders through the roof
o   OCD
o   Recycling is a compulsion
o   Reducing energy consumption too
o   He checks his lights all the time
o   He walks or bikes everywhere
o   He says it’s to reduce CO2 emissions
o   He’s just scared of vehicles
o   Has some kinda PTSD but nobody knows the source
o   He got into a massive car accident when he was little
o   Because his father was angry and speeding
o   His mother died in the accident
o   But nobody knows this!  Someday he will tell them tho
o   Today is not that day
o   Tomorrow is not that day either
o   But someday
o   Crush on Eeyore
o   Also a university student
o   Studying mathematics because it makes sense to him
o   Gopher reminds him of his grumpy old gay uncle who died when he was in high school
o   Feels like he can actually not double-check or cross-reference anything that Gopher teaches him because he trusts him a lot
o   Still will sometimes check everything if he’s having a bad day
o   Gopher doesn’t mind, he understands that Piglet has a lot of anxiety issues
o   Has an exception in his uni file to be able to take twice as long on his exams and tests and get an extra few days for assignments because he checks every single answer 3 times
o   His OCD number is 3, everything is 3, he turns his lights on and off 3 times, etc
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variantia · 5 years
Note
❤️(Ayatsuri) 💙(Dmitri) 💛(Mother) 💚(Vesper)💜 (Any muse that you think needs more love)
Peer into my muse’s memories  //  accepting !
BELLUM.  I chose Webber for the last one !  under the cut bc is long and also D’s and Vesper’s have some triggers ! !
❤️- A happy memory that makes them smile
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   Soft hums leave the puppet master’s lips as she finishes the final strokes of paint on her doll.  The marionette is small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, with details like one would expect from an expert artist.  She’s beautiful, with stark white porcelain for skin, pin-straight black hair that shines like a gemstone, and an intricate silvery outfit with dark trim.
   A simple melody plays from a music box in the background, a soundtrack to Ayatsuri’s delicate work.  Dark polished nails sweep gingerly through the doll’s hair ; her eyes roaming over every inch of her handiwork.          ❝  Oh, Tsukiko,  ❞   she coos.
   This is the first puppet she’s ever made completely on her own from scratch.  She fired and molded the porcelain, painstakingly laid every strand of hair, and spent countless hours sewing the dress.  They’re all things she’s practiced before, but now holding something that is entirely her own creation, with her time and taste and essence poured into it, is something unlike anything else.
          ❝  You’re perfect.  I can’t wait to make you a little friend.  ❞
-
💙- A sad memory that makes them cry
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          ❝  Mother, please.  Let go.  ❞
   D has never been so relieved and regretful to say anything in his entire life.  Now Mina Harker has slipped away into a quiet death, and he will have to navigate the world without his mother.
   He sees the spark fade from her eyes, but she passes with a smile on her face.  Her twisted fingers are around his just as tightly as they have ever been ; when they go limp, he knows she is gone.  His mother was a light unto the world, and the world never appreciated her.  Everyone cast her away because of him.  Because of her son.  Because of what he is.  She suffered so much, especially now as her body was failing her, as she clung to her life only for her child.
   It wasn’t fair.  None of it.  And because he’s never gotten too close to anyone else, D has no frame of reference for this.  What is he supposed to do now that she’s gone ?  Why does he feel so empty ?  Why was she smiling ?  Why did she always let people say ugly things to her, and why did she forgive everyone, and why has she always treated him like he is the most important thing that exists ?
   Not for the first time in his life, but for the first time since he has learned to control his emotions, D breaks down in tears.  Crouched by his mother’s bed, with her lying lifeless under the sheets, so close and so far away, he feels more like a terrified little boy than he ever did in his youth.
   He doesn’t know how long he stays like this, lost in his own head as tears refuse to stop.  He thinks about every beautiful memory he has of Mina.  Every time she held him close or kissed his forehead or erased someone else’s awful words with a gentle lullaby.  Despitethe fact that that he was the greatest source of her own pain, she treated him like a precious thing.
   After a long while of thinking, he reaches a conclusion.
   Even though the world never appreciated her unrelenting kindness, he did.
   From this moment on, he will do his best to be someone who deserves it.
   If it’s the last thing he does with his pitiful life, he will make his mother proud.
   But for now, a wound has been ripped open in his heart, leaving it raw and angry and full of despair.  Before he makes his mother proud, he must heal.
   He’s sure it will take a long time.
   He’s not sure he will ever truly heal.
-
💛- A memory that makes them feel angry
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   The fact that Greed left the group is only half of the reason that Mother feels fury burning inside her chest.
   The bigger reason is Envy’s reaction.
   Envy, the one of her children she’s always felt like she never had to worry about, Envy who claims they hold no real affection for their brothers and sister, is currently on a pseudo rampage contained mostly to their own room.  When she arrived back, it was them who toldher that Greed was gone ; in a screaming voice that sounded like it was going to tear their throat in two.  Now, they’re throwing things and breaking the few possessions they have and punching walls.
   Her other children have wisely decided to find reasons to suddenly be far, far away so that they can just leave Envy to their tantrum.  In the meantime, Mother has slipped away into the streets, disguised, to unleash her rage in a less violent manner.
   She doesn’t know where Greed has gone.  Her best guess would be that he’s gone somewhere with a lot of humans, maybe with a lot of wealth – because he’s predictable.  Because he’s always been fascinated by those two things in particular.
   Even as her eyes scan the crowd, she knows she won’t be going anywhere.  Looking for him would just be a waste of time.  It wouldn’t matter if she found him or not.  He won’t allow himself to be dragged back, and she can’t bring herself to incapacitate one of her children in order to force his return.  She’s perhaps cruel, but she’s not that cruel.
   Wherever he is, though, he should make no mistake.  His mother is furious with him to the point that her hands are shaking in anger.  Her eyes are sharp as she moves through the throng, and it’s a surprise that the streets don’t start to smoke wherever her feet touch.
   Greed will find himself in her arms once again, whether he likes it or not.  Whether he realizes yet that he will.  He can’t stay away ; they’re his family.
   That said, she thinks that the next time they meet, she will have to punish him before she permits herself to embrace him.  How dare he hurt his siblings like this.
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💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty
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   When Vesper wakes up, he’s lying on clouds so soft he knows he must be in heaven.
   For a few minutes as he tries to gain his bearings, he can’t remember anything.  Even the exact chunk of time that would explain why he was unconscious in the first place is missing.
   There’s noise and speech all around him, and as soon as he’s able to focus, he knows what this is.  It’s one of the judgment rooms that belong to the other angels.  There are screens forming every wall that are replaying his failure nonstop.
   The memories that flood his mind are those of an attempt to guide a woman toward happiness.  Someone who had just had a fight with her girlfriend, who was still angry.  Vesper can remember gently pressing his essence against this young lady, trying to influence her toward the best path.  If she could just talk to her girlfriend, now that a few days had passed, things might be better.  They might be able to make up and get back together.  They would be happy.
          ❝  Go, go,  ❞   he whispers on the screens, an encouraging smile on his tender features.  He remembers being so hopeful.  So careful.  And now this is coming from so many angles, he can’t stand it.          ❝  You can do it.  Just talk to her.  It’ll be okay.  ❞
   How could he have predicted that which the screens suddenly cut to ?  – The image of this woman lying on the sidewalk with a bullet in her head, fresh blood staining the stone, dead eyes staring through these screens at him.
   Another angel, full-blooded and pure, stares at him from outside the room, and when he lifts his head to look at her, tears streaking down his face, her eyes look at him coldly.
          ❝  You are a menace, Vesper.  LOOK WHAT YOU DID.  ❞
   And he cries harder, because she is right.
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💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad
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   Even as young as Webber and Wendy are, they can still be useful to the rest of the survivors’ group.  Often, they are.
   Today is a day for relaxing, however.  Although they could go forage or build some things, the adults are taking a break for the day, so the children decide to follow their example.
   Wendy is lying on the grass with her long hair splayed out behind her, arms crossed over her chest in a manner that would suggest she were a corpse in a coffin, and Abigail’s flower is resting comfortably on her stomach.  There’s a subtle chill in the air which indicates that while Abigail isn’t right here next to them, she’s not far away.  Webber sits next to his friend, quietly crafting something that there’s no real need for.
          ❝  What are you doing, Webber ?  ❞   Wendy eventually speaks up in that eerie, whispery voice of hers that makes adults nervous.          ❝  You’re making this rustling noise.  Is that actually you, or has                  some great, terrible beast finally come to ravage our camp-                  ground ?  ❞
   A gravelly buzz of a giggle leaves him, and he taps her shoulder.          ❝  No, of course not, silly !  I’m making something for you.  Sit up ;                  it’s all done !  ❞
   Once Wendy has taken her time in doing so, opening her eyes to blink at him, he reaches over and slides his creation onto her wrist.          ❝  There we go !  It’s a friendship bracelet.  Isn’t it lovely ?   ❞
          ❝  Oh.  ❞   That’s all she says for a moment, staring down at the bracelet.  It’s not very fancy, just made out of woven grass with some flowers for decoration, but it’s something he made specifically for her.  At last, she leans over and wraps her arms around him.  She doesn’teven seem to mind the feeling of the bristly spider fur.          ❝  Thank you, Webber.  I’ll never take it off.  ❞
   For the first time in a long time, he feels warm without being near the fire.
   It’s nice to have friends even if none of them know what exactly tomorrow will bring.
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prkcr · 6 years
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hey there demons, it’s me, ya girl...again. and if you don’t know who i am, then my name is sam, she / her, 21, est timezone and i’m so excited to be here! i wasn’t feeling very inspired with luna so i decided to switch her out with an old favorite muse of mine! ( truly i......love this garbage can SO MUCH. ) that being said, let’s look at the theories! aka i’m a buzzfeed unsolved stan and parker’s intro will be under the cut, so feel free to give that a look and message me if you would like to plot!
「 DANIEL SHARMAN, CISMALE, 27, RISE AGAINST. 」┈ did you read that latest viral gossip issue on RILEY PARKER?  he is the LEAD GUITARIST in RENEGADE, one of my favorite HARDCORE PUNK groups. they’ve been releasing music for FIVE YEARS now, but viral gossip has only been talking about them for the last MONTH. get this, i think i heard HE COULD BE FACING JAIL TIME DUE TO AN ALTERCATION WITH PAPARAZZI. they’re known as the MISFIT of the music industry, since they have a rep for being DAUNTLESS but TEMERARIOUS, but who knows. maybe that will change once they become #1.
so, this guy right here...riley ignatius parker...will throw hands if you call him anything other than parker. it’s what everyone calls him. you gotta be really special to call him riley and not immediately get decked for it
parker was born to a wealthy family in a small but affluent village called alderley edge in cheshire, england. his family is stupid rich, hails from a long line of architects and business people. he spent his early years sheltered and pampered and homeschooled by tutors and nannies, so his parents never spent much time with him, but that’s okay because he never really got along with his parents anyway.
has an identical twin brother named rian who he never ever talks about mostly because they absolutely DESPISE each other. rian thinks parker is a disgrace to their family name, parker thinks his brother is a sheep who turned out exactly like their parents because he always did whatever they said without question. they haven’t seen each other in ages and for the longest time all their interactions have ended in ( usually physical ) fights anyway.
parker’s always been a HUGE TROUBLEMAKER with a restless nature and desire to ~be free~, so his wealthy, uptight, lowkey shady af parents who are obsessed with the family’s image could never really deal with him and eventually resorted to sending him off to boarding schools all over england, just one after the other bc ofc he kept getting kicked out for one reason or another. 
about the only thing he enjoyed about his childhood and schooling were his music lessons. he was taught to play piano, violin, and even the harp. other things like math and history and science didn’t come easily to him at all, but music? he was great at it, and he’s always loved it. during his teen years while away at boarding school was when he first procured an electric guitar and learned to play. along with that, he also discovered punk music, aka the greatest thing in the entire fucking universe if you ask him. far as music goes, he'd found his calling in his early teenage years, but it would take a while for that to really feel legitimate to parker.
he was basically that rebellious kid in all the movies who wore doc martens with his prim & proper school uniform and carried around a pocket knife and cut class to go smoke while vandalizing school property and would absolutely fuck up some prissy pretty boy’s face just for looking at him the wrong way.
literally the only reason he actually graduated rather than flunking out or getting kicked out of every fancy boarding school in the uk was because his father was able to pull some strings aka bought his very last boarding school a whole new library wing. parker did actually consider running away a few times, but there was a part of him really reaaaaally deep down that actually enjoyed some aspects of school ( though he very strongly believes many education systems across the world need a serious overhaul and blahblahblah don’t ask him unless you want a lecture ). anyway, the moment he was done with school, he did finally skip out on...well, everything and everyone and ditched the country altogether, heading out first to new york city for about two years, then california for the last seven.
he’s been completely independent of his parents since the age of 18 and hasn’t had any access to their money since they cut him off for basically running away from home and since renegade only recently hit it big, he’s probably still a little poor tbh.
and since moving to california he’s been jumping from disgusting apartment to disgusting apartment and from shitty job to shitty job. played in various bands on the side, mostly for fun and even sometimes as a frontman himself, but when he joined renegade about five years ago as the lead guitarist, he immediately knew that this was his place. parker absolutely loves being in the band and wouldn’t trade it for anything at all. that being said, the fame that’s sorta popped in out of nowhere in the past month ( ever since renegade signed with a major record label ) has been...something else. being that he’s from a prominent and wealthy family he’s quite used to attention, but he’s also one of those everyone in hollywood is so fake where’s the real people making real music types and seeing as he has a very very short temper...well, parker’s already got a reputation for being a bad boy and yeah, he actually kind of is. he’s especially not a big fan of the paparazzi and is known to be very rude with them and get into actual physical fights with them he will throw hands with a n y o n e i’m telling you. his most recent run - in with a photographer who wouldn’t leave him alone even after parker told him to fuck off a few times ended in him being charged with assault and battery. long story short, he beat the guy’s face in with his own camera. parker’s...eh about it. he doesn’t really care? if you ask him, the guy should’ve just left alone when he told him to and it’s not like parker hasn’t been to jail before. he’s a vandal, a thief, gets into fights more often than he breathes but hey he usually wins so there’s that
i think that’s all i have for backstory atm though i will update this post if i ever feel it necessary. anyway, onto personality!
looks like he could kill you and could actually kill you
that’s it that’s all you need to know
nah jk there’s actually a few more things! first off, he’s basically the living breathing personification of the jerk with a heart of gold tv trope. so, he seems like a major jerk most of the time and that’s because he kind of is. especially around hollywood people, he’s standoffish and snide and just all - around has a bad attitude. he’s very short tempered and impulsive af, but underneath all of that he’s actually an observant and caring person. like, he’s not very book smart but he’s good at reading people and WOW DOES HE FEEL EVERYTHING SO DEEPLY. he’s a ridiculously passionate person. he feels everything all the time. every emotion is felt in extremes and the one that’s usually most prominent? ANGER.
see, parker is just a very angry person because he’s seen the way things are in the world. he’s lived a life of wealth and unimaginable opulence, but then he’s also been so poor that he’s slept beside dumpsters in alleyways. there are so many people out there who need healing in so many ways and he’s seen it for himself so he knows it’s true. yet, nobody really seems to wanna help. so many people seem to be involved in activism for show or for good person points and he just he HATES it. he constantly wants to scream about all of the unfair things going on in the world and how much he wants to just make them better because he is actually a rather compassionate person when someone is in need.
like, he’s the type of guy who says thank you to waiters and janitors and average, working class people — though i imagine anyone who doesn’t know him very well would be surprised by that.
thinks robin hood was a guy with some great ideas
feminist af
extremely sarcastic
also extremely english. he talks with a very thick accent ( similar to how daniel sharman talks actually if you wanted that point of reference for some reason ) and yeah, he’s fulfilling a stereotype here but he doesn’t care — he loves a good cup of tea.
not usually one to initiate conversations but once he actually gets into talking he can be a pretty cool person to talk with. he actually has a lot to say about many different topics and if you can handle his constant like every other word swearing, then parker might just be your guy to have a deep af conversation with at 3am
along that deep af vein, he enjoys the songwriting process a lot and i imagine he’s very involved in it with renegade. he totally doesn’t seem like the type, but he’s got this old messy notebook that he takes with him everywhere and it’s just full of song ideas and other random things. it’s basically a physical manifestation of parker’s brain, so he’s probably not about to just hand it off to some random person. if you want notebook privileges then he’s gotta trust you that’s just how it is
also, a total lovesick fool when he's got a thing for someone — a soft but only for you type and it’s highkey cute af
doesn’t care much for wealth at all. he’s lived that life before, didn’t like it, and these days he’d rather wear his favorite old band shirt stained with motor oil and eat greasy diner food ( mostly french fries ) than have some grandiose celebrity experience. 
not the easiest person to befriend or be friends with, but if you do have him for a friend then guess what? you have him FOR LIFE. parker is super loyal — a true ride or die but don’t fuck it up with him because if you do he will hold a grudge forever
which reminds me: he’s got a motorcycle and HE LOVES IT. he pretty much built it himself from scratch and it’s just...it’s literally his child ok he will FREAK IF YOU TOUCH HIS MOTORCYCLE OK /F R E A K/ LIKE DON’T EVEN LOOK AT IT THE WRONG WAY
i feel like his reputation precedes him even though he hasn’t been around very long and that’s definitely thanks that messy altercation with the paparazzi. like, he literally beat this photographer up with his own fucking camera?? word has definitely gotten around and i think some people might be wary or even afraid of him?? 
though really aside from his short temper he really is and really tries to be a decent guy. anyone who knows him well would see that very clearly and honestly, that’s probably why they stick around even though he can be very difficult.
i think that’s probably enough from me for the moment, right? there’s probably some stuff i’m forgetting, but if i don’t get to a bio page then i’ll just edit this with anything else. i also don’t have a plot page yet but i definitely want all of the connections, so please do feel free to message me if you would like to plot! i’m so excited to write with you all!
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whatisinthewoods · 6 years
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How did your day go??
Fuck ok so here's what happened (sorry I'm on mobile so I can't put this under a cut)I've been staying at @pewpewtakeo's place for like a week and I've been getting to know his roommates which has been hella chill except two of the roommates (I'll just call them Roomie #1 and #2) apparently fucking hate eachother. Roomie 1 says that Roomie 2 has been lying and stealin her stuff and being generally really terrible (but I can't confirm if that's a fact bc I have never seen the two interact) and Roomie 1 decided that she was gonna move out which is nbd. SO today Lars had to go out to his parent's place and he's been gone all day and he just left me alone which is totally chill since I've just been hanging out. Roomie 1 comes home and starts packing her stuff up and all is good, then Roomie 2 comes home from work and IMMEDIATELY starts talking shit about Roomie 1 (they had an argument over text before this) and then Roomie 1 comes downstairs tryna start something and they get into an argument but they stopped p quickly but the entire time this is happening I'm literally just sitting on the couch experiencing this while I'm deadass just trying to watch The Office??? Then Roomie 2 calms down and we're like "let's go smoke some dank and just chill out" so we start smoking out on her balcony. Hella. Chill. Then Roomie 1 comes in and is like "give me my charger I let you borrow" and Roomie 2 is just like "no you gotta say please" and it was really immature imo on both sides but that's not the point. Eventually one of Roomie 1's friends said something rude which set Roomie 2 off and she. Threw. The. Charger. Right over the balcony. Didn't even think twice about it and it's honestly terrifying because I'm stoned out of my gourd watching this happen and I'm just thinkin that I'm about 10 seconds away from getting my ass beat concave by four angry women just because I was hanging out with Roomie 2. So Roomie 1 gets up in Roomie 2's face and they're about to throw DOWN and next thing I know Roomie 2 is swinging away but one of Roomie 1's friends just laid her ass OUT. Deadass tho the thing that set Roomie 1 off is because Roomie 2 referred to me as "him/her" (you know how straights do when you correct them on your pronouns?) And honestly I don't remember exactly what happened after that because I smoked so much weed I'm basically stuck at the halfway point between being a living organism and a completely formless enigma, but I know there was a lot of crying so I comforted the two Roomies and I just went into Lars' room and locked myself in there. Then the police showed up and I silently lost my shit because I was high enough to be the poster child for a "not even once" anti drug ad and I didn't want to explain that to the fuzz. So I hid under the bed and waited for them to leave for like over an hour. Then I literally passed out from fear.TLDR: @pewpewtakeo left me alone in a house filled with crazy people and I'm never doing drugs again
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