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#abandoned dairy farm
yuputkaphoto · 1 year
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white-shape · 1 year
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Scary Dairy
Abandoned dairy farm formerly part of a metal hospital and worked by it’s patients.
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beardedmrbean · 5 months
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Q “How do you tell if someone is a vegan?” 
A: “You don’t have to, they’ll tell you.” 
Maybe it’s jokes like that, highlighting society’s stereotypical view of vegans as arrogant virtue-signallers, that have led to a slump in demand for some plant-based alternatives to meat and dairy, as well as a slew of business failures among manufacturers of plant-based food – most recently Heather Mills’s company VBites, which has just announced it is going into administration. 
Despite veganism being endorsed by a number of celebrities, such as the BBC’s controversial wildlife presenter Chris Packham, it doesn’t seem to have made much headway beyond those segments of the market that are either apocalyptic about climate change or fanatical about animal rights – or both. Perhaps much like Mr Packham himself. 
Then there’s the argument that veganism is good for your health, which has been on an increasingly sticky wicket, deconstructed by books such as the award-winning The Great Plant Based Con by Jayne Buxton. There is also a growing backlash against ultra-processed foods, which many vegan products are. 
But Ms Mills had the gall to blame “gaslighting” by the meat industry for the collapse of her vegan food empire. As a member of the meat “industry”, I take exception to that. Of course it is not really an industry at all in the UK – it is made up of family farms, in stark contrast to the public relations agencies promoting vegan diets. 
Farmers have been hounded and smeared by radical vegan activists for years. I wrote in these pages back in September about Laura Corbett, the Gourmet Goat Farmer, who was targeted by vegan “activists” on social media. Her business was attacked by malicious Trip Advisor reviews. 
Indeed, I would suggest that consumers have been put off by the taint of fanaticism surrounding vegan foods. Recent research has shown that omnivorous consumers are less likely to buy products if they are labelled with the V-word. While it is too early to consign veganism to the history books, I suspect when that history is written it will be seen as a fad that was rejected by the British public largely because the wild behaviour of its more extreme followers trashed the brand. 
It always seemed unlikely that, after millennia evolving on an omnivorous meat-rich diet, we would then wholly abandon it. There is only one species that has ever done that: the panda. And that has not been an unqualified success. 
If the vegans had wanted to actually persuade people to eat better, rather than hector them, they could have chosen a much less blunt message. But a more effective, nuanced approach, focused on stopping the harmful aspects of meat and dairy production, was not pursued and all livestock farmers were tarred with the same brush. This happened even after the positive environmental role of grass-based beef farmers was recognised by the authorities, as they began to be paid carbon credits for the net carbon they sequester.
We can’t allow vegans to continue to ruin the debate about food. We need a real food counter-revolution. 
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water9826 · 1 month
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Cursed Guardians (A JJK Fic)
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It is vital that you retrieve this, Ryomen.
I know. 
We cannot let any of those humans get in our way.
Of course not. I’ll kill them if they try to stop me.
Kill them? Heh. The sorcerers won’t like that.
Do you think I care? I can handle their ire. This is far too important.
I agree, but try not to burn the place to the ground. 
It’s tempting. All of these people are just worms desperate to consume whatever shit is available. I’d be doing them a favor.
Hm. And here I thought you were growing fond of humans.
Never. The four sorcerers we acquainted are the only decent ones. The rest can rot.
There are civilians in this place, Ryomen. We would draw attention to ourselves if there are casualties. It'll be a pain to deal with. 
Like I said earlier, I don’t care. If they try to challenge me, then they die. Simple.
I see.
And what of it?
Nothing. It’s just that…Well-
Spit it out. 
It just seems that I have severely underestimated your dedication to capitalism.
“Shut up, Sukuna.” Ryomen hissed to himself. He was currently in the supermarket looking for a very special item. It had been sold out for months, but Ryomen refused to go home empty handed today. He would fight tooth and nail for what he desired. 
The Limited Edition SPECIALZ DELIGHT: A Ginger and Brown Sugar Ice Cream Swirl With Crunchy Caramel Bits from Cyclop Cat Creamery. 
The mere thought of the frozen treat made Ryomen’s mouth water. He shopped almost exclusively online, using a false address so the delivery person would not discover the location of the shrine. For the last several years, Ryomen had everything delivered to a small house a few hours away from their true home. The house had been abandoned long ago, but Ryomen had chosen it due to it being remote, but reachable for regular humans. Due to the multiple barriers and seals Infinite and Sukuna had placed, no one could enter the shrine without permission. If they tried, they would be killed instantly by the powerful wards placed throughout. By using the house, deliveries could be made without the messenger being spontaneously combusted or sliced into a million pieces. Additionally, the house used to belong to a farmer. At first glance, the fact may seem irrelevant, but it wasn’t for Ryomen. He was nothing if not prepared. The house was small, but it was built upon the vast land of a ranch. The farmhouse gave Ryomen the opportunity to use the place as a way to stock up on emergency supplies. 
Though, the supplies did not only include food or water. The farm the house was built upon was used to grow crops in case of a sudden apocalypse or if Ryomen had to hide his family away for the next decade. On top of that, Ryomen used the ranch to house cattle, chickens, sheep, and horses. This way, Ryomen would not have to purchase goods like dairy, eggs, or meat, things that expire quickly. That meant fewer trips to the store. And fewer trips to the store meant less humans Ryomen had to interact with. And less humans that interacted with him meant less chance of his family being found and killed . 
It was the perfect plan!
Ryomen had grown up on the streets in a village that saw him as nothing but a bad omen. The sensation of his stomach writhing in agony from starvation was more familiar than the warm feeling of a full belly. He was not taking any chances when it came to his son’s life. Yuuji would always have food on his plate and warm clothes on his back. 
The man was also no stranger to war. He knew what it was like to have no form of transportation, no form of escaping, during a time of bloodshed and chaos. He had many memories of falling asleep next to the bodies of the fallen as a young boy, pretending to be among the dead so the enemy soldiers would not target him next. When he made the deal with Sukuna, he had finally learned what it was like to be on the other side, to be the one causing the terror and death. From what he had observed as a boy and as a man, being able to retreat was what determined if you lived or died. So. Horses . Ryomen was familiar with horses, often sleeping with the hooved beasts in their stables during the winter because he had no other place to go. The horses Ryomen had now were descended from the original horses Ryomen had ridden into the many battles he waged. They were strong, loyal, and, most importantly, fast. His mind could rest easy knowing that his son would be able to escape if anything were to happen to Ryomen or Japan itself. 
And this paranoia did not worsen from the fact that his son was going to be starting public school soon. Nope. Ryomen was completely fine with that. 
Liar.
I know. 
He was not a trusting person, and he could not afford to be one no matter how many allies he obtained. After the fateful meeting with the sorcerers, Ryomen had taken it upon himself to venture out in search of the peach seeds that held his son’s soul while training the young sorcerers while also raising his precious son while also also having to look after six powerful beasts and one grumpy curse. Needless to say, Ryomen was exhausted, but he did not trust Sukuna to handle things for him. Not anymore. There had been a strain on their relationship after Sukuna had revealed his many secrets at the meeting. For the sake of Yuuji, the boy who loved his father and uncle so much that he could not bear to be without either of them, they had worked things out. They had fought for centuries, so what was one more fight? That was the mindset Ryomen held in order to keep his temper under control. Yuuji should not have to see his loved ones fight. For the following weeks after the meeting, Ryomen and Sukuna tried their best to act civilly or ignore each other as much as they could. 
As time passed on, they had begun a ritual of sitting by the pond, neither speaking to the other. They would not talk, scream, or even whisper. They simply basked in the peaceful silence. One night, however, Sukuna looked at the man and broke the quiet they had become accustomed to. Instead of the expected insult or sneer, Sukuna had apologized to Ryomen for what he had done. His normally brash voice was soft and remorseful. 
‘I know how special Yuuji is to you, Ryomen. I should not have kept the information of his soul’s whereabouts from you, nor the existence of Kenjaku. I’m…I’m sorry. I should not have assumed it was alright to omit so many things about your son. I thought it would be easier to wait and focus on caring for Yuuji, but I was wrong.’
It had shocked Ryomen to his core when he had heard the curse’s apology. There were several facts about the world. The sky was blue. Ice was cold. Fire was hot. Infinite was annoying. And, the most important fact of all, Sukuna did not apologize . Ryomen had never heard the curse admit he was in the wrong before that night. He had wanted to hate Sukuna, but Ryomen could not bring himself to. Even when he knew that Sukuna was still hiding things from him, Ryomen did not hate him. His trust in him had diminished, that would never return, but he had accepted the apology. Sukuna and Ryomen shared the same body and soul. They could not leave the other even if they tried. Even if neither wanted to admit it, Sukuna and Ryomen were brothers. 
The next few years had been much easier than the first with the additional aid of the sorcerers. Even though Ryomen was doing far too much, he was happy to see his son thriving. He would be turning five in a few days, and Ryomen could not ignore that fact any longer. As much as he wanted to stay in the shrine, Ryomen knew he had to go out and purchase the gifts that Yuuji deserved. The boy had even written the shortest wishlist imaginable after Sukuna and Ryomen practically begged him to ask for something. However, most of the requested presents were for other people, but Ryomen knew it would break Yuuji’s heart if he did not respect his son’s wishes. There were only three things that Yuuji wanted for himself, and Ryomen would rather be burned alive again than not get Yuuji exactly what he wished for. 
Knowing that the trip to the city would take a while, Ryomen had reluctantly asked the sorcerers to come to the shrine earlier than expected. For the past three years, the sorcerers had developed a training regime that involved them coming to the shrine once a week or once a month if they had too many missions. Not all four could come at the same time due to their differing schedules. Their visitation was timed carefully as to not rouse suspicions from the sorcerer’s elders. Nanami, the supposedly strict and avid rule follower, was the most skilled at sneaking out and deceiving the higher-ups. He came up with an interchanging schedule that his group could use to make the sorcerers’ weekly outings seem innocent. Due to the unexpected timing for today, only one sorcerer could attend. It was surprisingly Gojo, the sorcerer who was the busiest of all, who could take care of Yuuji. However, Ryomen had a feeling that Gojo would have skipped out on any mission just to see Yuuji anyway. The white-haired man adored Yuuji, becoming another uncle that Yuuji loved. The two got along like two peas in a pod. 
There was one drawback. Gojo was able to visit, but he had to bring one of his children to the shrine. His adopted son, Fushiguro Megumi, had gotten suspended after a nasty fight in school (a fight he had won) and needed to stay with Gojo. Ryomen was about to refuse until Sukuna urged him to agree. It was strange that Sukuna was so passionate about allowing the older child to visit, but Ryomen had relented and agreed. In the end, the choice was the correct one as Yuuji had squealed and smiled brighter than the sun when he learned that he would be getting to meet a new person. 
There was still much to do for his son’s birthday preparations, so Ryomen shook himself out of his thoughts and wheeled his cart towards the frozen dessert section. Ryomen had a bit of a sweet tooth, though not nearly as severe as Gojo’s, and was delighted to see no one in the aisle. It was early after all. Too early for most people to buy ice cream. 
The Cyclop Cat Creamery was, in Ryomen’s opinion, the best ice cream manufacturer in the country. Many pints of their ice cream had helped Ryomen get through his worst nights. Nights that involved him watching shitty telenovelas or dramatic family comedies on the couch, bundled in a blanket, and crying with a spoon in his mouth. All to distract him from the constant worry and stress he felt. Sometimes, Boogie would join him on the dramas he watched, as long as it featured pop-idol Takada-chan. The man and dog tearing up at each rejection at a sakura tree, each confession at a sakura tree, each break-up in the rain or sakura tree, each desperate sprint through an airport, each admittance of moving away, and even each family member who randomly gets sick. Takada-chan’s movies always had at least one of those events. Though, it was more likely for her films to have all six. 
…So, yes. Ryomen consumed quite a lot of ice cream. 
At least, Yuuji adored the flavors they had as well. Even Sukuna, who ate meat almost exclusively, was fond of the frozen treats. 
Hurry up!
Be quiet! I’m the one who’s paying!
Sukuna grumbled within his mind. Due to the nature of their shared soul, Sukuna could not stay in the shrine when Ryomen left it. He had to stay with Ryomen whenever he went outside their home. It was another reason why Ryomen hated going out in public. The curse would never shut up within his mind, always finding something to complain about. Ryomen received many odd looks when he would respond to the entity in his head, and it took all his self-control to not snap at the humans. He was a single father with too much on his hands. He did not have the energy to deal with the fools who stared at him as if he was insane. Ryomen probably had several screws loose, but he did not enjoy other people thinking that!
The coolness of the freezer aisle helped soothe Ryomen’s nerves. He first picked out Yuuji’s favorite flavors: BLACK FLASH , a dark chocolate ice cream with strawberry and raspberry swirls and LEFT, RIGHT, GOODNIGHT, an ice cream with three separate flavors that included milk chocolate, vanilla bean, and honeycomb. The titles were…odd. But the ice cream was good enough for Ryomen to not care for once.
Buy more.
I plan on buying several pints already. 
Good. Make sure you have enough to feed an army.
I expect you to tell me why.
Sukuna.
Fine. The brat and I will be having a competition to see who can consume the most frozen confectionaries. 
You mean an ice cream eating contest?
…Yes. It was on his birthday wish list…
Ryomen had to bite his lip to stifle a laugh. To anyone else, including Ryomen himself, Sukuna was the biggest asshole imaginable. Granted, Ryomen was as well, but his usual exhaustion hid his poor temperament. Sukuna was the type of person to push an elderly woman into oncoming traffic just because she asked for help crossing the road. An extreme example, yes, but it was great at showing Sukuna’s violent tendencies and astounding levels of pettiness. However, he was a completely different person with Yuuji. He would deny it constantly, but the curse was incredibly soft when it came to the boy. Ryomen shook his head with a small smile as he grabbed a few more pints. Once Sukuna deemed the amount of ice cream sufficient, Ryomen finally went for the flavor he had been waiting for for months.
At last! 
Just as his hand reached for the frozen dessert, another came and snatched the last pint of SPECIALZ DELIGHT before he could blink. It had happened so quickly that Ryomen’s mind needed a few seconds to process what had happened. 
OH, THAT FUCKING BITCH! LET ME OUT, RYOMEN! LET ME BEAT HER ASS! I SWEAR TO GOD, I’LL CUT OFF THAT HAND RIGHT NOW! THE FUCKING AUDACITY! STUPID BITCH! GOOD FOR NOTHING PIECE OF SHIT CU-
With practiced ease, Ryomen ignored the unholy screeching within his head. He tried his best to have a pleasant smile on his face as he turned to the thief person. It was a middle-aged woman with streaky blond hair that was cut into a bob. Her makeup was slightly cakey from the excessive powder she likely used. She had several fake gemstones on her rings and bracelets. 
The woman looked at Ryomen with a disgusted scowl. “What.”
Sukuna’s creative swears and insults grew louder, causing Ryomen to suppress a grimace. He pointed at the pint the woman was holding. “I was about to grab that, miss. I know it’s the last one, but I’ve been waiting for the restock for months. You see, my son is having a-”
“I grabbed it first. Go find another pint for your son.” She pointed a gaudy pink nail at Ryomen. “I suggest looking at the clearance aisle, you people can’t afford this stuff anyway.”
Stay calm. Stay calm. STAY CALM . Ryomen breathed in deeply, his smile resembling a snarl more than anything else. “It’s for my son’s birthday. Surely, you can let go of the ‘finders keepers’ mentality since you are clearly not a child.”
“I don’t care about your damn spoiled brat of a son! This is mine! Go to some other store!”
“No.” Ryomen gave up on trying to be polite the second the crone insulted his son. The woman looked like she had just sucked on a lemon with how pinched her face got. 
“How dare you! Do you know who my husband is! I can have you arrested for this-”
“Do it.” Ryomen said coldly. The woman immediately froze. “I dare you.”
For a few moments, it seemed like the horrid lady was going to give up. However, she got over her brief lapse and scowled harder at Ryomen. “You people have no respect whatsoever! I’m going to call-”
“My people?” Ryomen asked with his fists clenched, already feeling them heat up. 
“Yes, you people! You damn activists that dye their hair and act like they're superior to everyone else!” The woman looked more like a tomato with how flushed her face became from anger. She stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Leave us good people alone! I’m not giving you anything! Your stupid son can-”
It was as if the very air around them had gone still. The buzzing of the fluorescent lights could not be heard anymore nor the constant buzz of the refrigeration units. Finally, the woman realized the mistake she had just made. Her eyes grew wide with genuine terror as the man in front of her bore his piercing crimson eyes into her. For a second, it seemed like the tattoos beneath his eyes opened. She blinked hard, and the eyes disappeared along with the blood red gaze. Despite being in the freezer aisle, the atmosphere around them grew unbearably hot. This was the first time that anyone had ever scared her this much. Her hands began to shake as the towering figure came closer. 
Ryomen snatched the woman by the neck before she could utter a cry of help. He let his palms grow hot enough to burn. “The only reason that you’re still alive is because I have errands to do, so I can’t waste my time tossing your eviscerated corpse to the rats . Though, the rats don’t deserve such rotten meat. Perhaps the maggots would take you. They eat all worthless, putrid garbage after all.”
There was now blood streaming down the horrified woman’s neck as sharp claws pierced into her. She had dropped the pint, the reason for the argument, the second he grabbed her. Her hands pawed uselessly at the iron grip the pink-haired man seemed to have. 
“Your behavior is disgusting. If anyone behaves like they are above everyone else, it is you. You’re a rotten woman who no one will miss. I would say you have time to change your ways, but that would be a lie, wench. Now, get out of my sight.” Ryomen unceremoniously dropped the woman who collapsed onto the floor. Her neck was bleeding profusely and part of Ryomen wanted to let the old crone bleed out. However, his common sense kicked in. Leaving a dead body in a public supermarket would come back to bite him. Instead of slitting her through or turning her to ash, Ryomen begrudgingly healed her using his reverse cursed technique. His was not as refined as Sukuna’s, but it would do. After healing her, leaving no scrap of evidence behind, Ryomen picked up the tossed pint. He heard the hysterical sobs from the traumatized woman, but he did not acknowledge her whatsoever. 
Well done, Ryomen. Though, your outburst better not have melted our frozen confections!
“Shut up, Sukuna.”
-
If someone were to ask Satoru about wanting children as a teen, he would have laughed in the questioner’s face and mock the person for such a stupid question. ‘Hell no.’ He’d say. ‘Why would anyone want to take care of snot-nosed brats for the rest of their life?’ He’d jeer.
Well, his younger self could fuck off.
“Megumiiiiii-chaaaaan~” 
“I’m punching you next.” Megumi grouched from the backseat of the car. The eleven-year-old had gotten into a fight with several boys at recess. Based on his minimal injuries, Megumi had won the fight. The boys that had tried to gang-up on his boy were much worse for wear, bearing black eyes and broken noses and scratches that likely came from a protective demon dog. However, Megumi was cradling his right arm and would wince whenever the car went over a bump. There were little to no bruises or scuff marks on Megumi, but Satoru knew better than to ignore the risk of something internal occurring. 
After receiving a call from Megumi’s school, he had to ask Ijichi to drive him since it would be jarring if he warped there. The younger man agreed without fuss, sweating profusely as he readied the car. Despite his jittery nature, Ijichi’s skill behind the wheel was unmatched. It was the only time that Ijichi would appear calm and confident. Once they arrived, Satoru had to pretend that he cared for the feelings of the delinquents Megumi had injured and act like he was disappointed in Megumi. It could not be further from the truth, but Satoru needed to be a mature adult in front of the school’s principal. They had given no punishment to the group of boys that had initiated the fight, but had suspended Megumi for two weeks. The parents of the brats that had attacked Megumi tried to lecture Satoru on his parenting skills. He simply smiled at the morons, thanking them for the advice and assuring them that this wouldn’t happen again. If the school had not been the most secure place Satoru could find, he would have ripped those parents and the principal a new one. 
When Megumi and Satoru entered the car, the elder immediately burst into giggles. In his mind, Megumi was being punished for something minor. When Satoru was his age, he had done far worse things to others. Though, the fact that Satoru had been homeschooled meant that all his tutors were paid to deal with his preteen-self’s horrid attitude. He could get away with anything, but Megumi was not being taught by a private tutor. He went to a public school, and the school had rules. Perhaps suspension was warranted for the brutal beating Megumi had given the boys…Maybe. He needed the full story. Satoru had been trying to ask Megumi about what happened for the past ten minutes, but the boy refused to answer. 
As the scenery of office buildings and shopping districts changed to something far more rural, Megumi perked up considerably. His dark expression faded into one of curiosity. There were hundreds of questions brewing in the boy’s navy eyes. 
“Got something on your mind, Megs?” Satoru glanced at the boy.
Megumi huffed stubbornly, a trait he and the twins share. He tried to make his black hair cover his eyes, but it only made the boy look like he was pouting. Eventually, Megumi spoke. “Aren’t you gonna ground me?”
“I don’t think that was the question you wanted to ask.” Satoru teased.
“Just answer, Gojo.” Megumi demanded, though it lacked the normal fire the boy was known for. Despite how hard Megumi tried to appear apathetic or stoic, Gojo could read him like a book. The boy was nervous, likely believing that he was in deep trouble with his adoptive parent. He had a tension in his body that suggested that Megumi was expected to be struck or yelled at. It pained Satoru to see the boy struggle with the trauma his good-for-nothing father gave him. While Megumi never spoke of the first years of his life with Toji, Satoru could tell that it was anything but pretty. It left him with serious issues involving attachment, abandonment, and being more closed off than a clam. It made Satoru want to kill Toji for the second time. And a third. And a fourth-
He shook his head to rid himself of the murderous thoughts. Megumi was still awaiting a response, looking more uneasy than before. With a soft sigh, Satoru turned away, knowing that the boy hated prolonged eye contact. “I’m not mad at you, Megs. I would have done much worse in your shoes, but you showed restraint. You’re a smart kid, so I know that I don’t need to tell you not to do it again. Not because the bastards don’t deserve it, they did if you ask me. You know what you did wrong, and I know you like this school enough that you don’t want to be expelled. The principal is a jerk, sure, but I’ve seen how well the staff and teachers treat you.” 
“...You’re really not mad?” Megumi whispered, eyes wide. For once, he acted like the child he was supposed to be, which had become rarer and rarer over the years.  
“I’m not, Gumi. Promise.” The white-haired man only used the nickname when Megumi was in deep distress. It showed Megumi that Gojo was being sincere. As the road grew bumpier, made from dirt and not asphalt, Megumi’s curiosity returned. 
The preteen’s brow furrowed in the way that it always did when Megumi was thinking hard about something. “Where are we going?” 
“Remember the friends that Suguru and I visit every month?” 
“Yeah? What about them?”
“We’re going to visit them. They’re pretty reclusive, so that’s why you haven’t met them yet. They’re good people though. It’s thanks to them that Suguru doesn’t burn water when trying to boil it, heh. Anyways, an emergency popped up, and they had to leave immediately. Here’s the thing,” Satoru paused for dramatic effect, raising his index finger. The spiky-haired boy was listening with rapt attention and did not enjoy Satoru’s sudden stop. After several seconds of Megumi’s impatient glare, Satoru continued with a grin. “They have a son, and there was no one else available to take care of him. He’s four, but he’s as sweet as Tsumiki. Well behaved too. I know he is going to love having a new friend. The kid has no friends his age, so be nice to him. He also has… guard dogs that are really protective so do not summon your shikigami unless strictly necessary, ‘kay?” 
Silence followed as Megumi processed the information, analyzing every detail Satoru had provided. As the boy got lost in his thoughts, the road got even bumpier. Ijichi had driven this path several times, so he was able to smooth the ride enough for Megumi’s arm to not jostle. Satoru leaned back in the seat, taking out his phone and opening his favorite group chat. 
THE STRONGEST BITCHES🤞😎
infinity3435: @everyone
infinity3435: omw to see yujiiiii with megs o(≧∇≦o)
infinity3435: jealous @curse_gobbler ? 
curse_gobbler: not particularly.
infinity3435: ur such a liar
curse_gobbler: stfu
infinity3435: make me (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)
lesbianmalpractice: can y’all not be gay for once
infinity3435: nope  。◕‿◕。
curse_gobbler: no.
curse_gobbler: are u homophobic shoko?
lesbianmalpractice: only when it comes to you two.
infinity3435: wow ಥ_ಥ
lesbianmalpractice: the more fucking emoticons you use the more homophobic i’m gonna get
infinity3435: (づ。◕‿‿◕。)づ
Nanami.Kento: I thought that we established that this group chat was for emergencies only.
infinity3435: it is
infinity3435: telling you guys that i get to hang out with yuuji today while you guys are stuck doing boring shit is an emergency
infinity3435: very important info
lesbianmalpractice: ur such a dick
infinity3435: u love me tho (◕‿◕✿)  
lesbianmalpractice: not at all
infinity3435: (◕╭╮◕✿)
curse_gobbler: lmao
infinity3435: SUGURU UR SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE 
curse_gobbler: says who?
infinity3435: says your loving partner of 84 yrs
curse_gobbler: satoru neither of us are even close to being that old. you need to stop watching titanic so much
Nanami.Kento: Well, Gojo-san does have the white hair most elderly are plagued with. It is possible that he has fooled us all with his age. Perhaps that is why he acts so childish, it’s to throw us off. 
infinity3435: NANAMI HOW COULD U? ┗( T﹏T )┛
lesbianmalpractice: HAH
lesbianmalpractice: NANAMI JUST CALLED U A FUCKING GEEZER 
infinity3435: u guys are so mean (இ﹏இ`。)
lesbianmalpractice: ╭∩╮(╹◡╹)
infinity3435: SHOKO 
lesbianmalpractice: ─=≡Σᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ
curse_gobbler: (•_•) ( •_•)>⌐■-■ (⌐■_■)
infinity3435: ALRIGHT QUIT IT 
Nanami.Kento: ୧༼ ºل͜º ༽ºل͜º ༽୨༼ ºل͜º ༽╭∩╮
infinity3435: WTF NANAMI
lesbianmalpractice: YES NANAMI
Nanami.Kento: Apologies if I used it incorrectly. I am not accustomed to this type of text.
curse_gobbler: u used it perfectly. couldn’t done it better myself
lesbianmalpractice: ^
lesbianmalpractice: @infinity3435 that’s what u get for shoving the fact that you get to see yuuji in our faces
curse_gobbler: ^
curse_gobbler: i’ve had to exorcize almost thirty curses and now im omw to excorcize more 
lesbianmalpractice: and i’ve been at the morgue all day 
infinity3435: sucks 4 u
Nanami.Kento: At least, the three of us do not have to spend extra time with Infinite. Even if Yuuji-kun and Megumi-kun are present, Infinite never misses an opportunity to train you. And, frankly, beating the shit out of you. 
infinity3435: HEY
Nanami.Kento: Now, please stop spamming this messaging forum. I have work to do. 
Nanami.Kento: Please tell Yuuji-kun that I said hello. 
lesbianmalpractice: goddamn i forgot how brutal nanami could be
cursed_gobbler: mhm
cursed_gobbler: well, i’ll follow nanami’s lead and log off. my train is almost at its stop anyway
lesbianmalpractice: yeah i gotta perform another autopsy soon
lesbianmalpractice: send pics of the little guys satoru
infinity3435: i will 
infinity3435: someway or another i’m gonna have megs and yuuji have a photoshoot 
curse_gobbler: good luck with that
curse_gobbler: you better send them 
infinity3435: you got it shnookums ( ˘ ³˘)♥
curse_gobbler: delete that this instant
infinity3435: no~
“I’m totally gonna start calling him that from now on.” Satoru giggled to himself. He put his phone in his pocket after turning it off. Now, the man could see that they had reached the expansive land of the ranch Ryomen… acquired . Using the rearview mirror, Satoru got to observe Megumi's smile as the boy pressed his face against the window like an excited child. The spiky-haired boy was none the wiser to Satoru’s stare, so he had dropped the indifferent front he tried so hard to keep. It warmed Satoru’s heart whenever Megumi acted like the eleven-year-old boy he was. 
Nothing made Megumi come out of his shell as effectively as animals. He watched the herds of cattle and sheep graze calmly on grass like it was the most intriguing thing in the world. The boy would also look at the many chickens across the lot with rapt attention, he had even unbuckled his seatbelt at this point to be as close to the window as possible. Both Ijichi and Satoru looked at Megumi with a fondness that anyone who knew the grumpy child would feel. After a few more minutes of driving, the house at the center of the ranch was visible. Several horses could be seen relaxing or grazing on the untrimmed yard. When the car made its way to the unmarked driveway, the horses made no move to run. The small herd had horses of various breeds and sizes with the largest towering over the car Ijichi was driving. In fact, it was the largest horse Satoru had ever seen. It was a deep, black color with white hair pooling around its hooves. Based on how it dwarfed the other horses, it was well over three meters tall. Based on the familiar crimson markings around its snout and eyes, Ryomen had likely given the horse considerable amounts of cursed energy to make it so large. Despite its imposing size, it did not appear to care about the presence of the newcomers whatsoever while the rest of the herd was watching them curiously. Satoru could not help but be reminded of Sukuna from the giant horse’s laziness. 
Whenever Satoru and the others were summoned for training, Infinite would appear before them and warp them to the shrine. He had no idea when or even how the damn bird knew where he, Suguru, Shoko, and Nanami lived. Infinite just did and would give whichever sorcerer he visited a heart attack. Wanting to delay Megumi’s meeting with Infinite as much as possible had led Satoru to request to go to the ranch Ryomen had spoken about. The pink-haired man had been ready to refuse before Sukuna convinced him otherwise, agreeing with Satoru that Megumi should not know what teleporting with Infinite felt like if he didn’t need to. Satoru was fine with warping himself and Megumi to the shrine. The ranch and shrine were over an hour apart, but Satoru could care less. He would deal with the migraine that came after warping a considerable distance easily. Ryomen had allowed Sukuna and Infinite to disable the many wards around the temple’s radius. It would be a temporary hold for Satoru to teleport to the shrine without issue, but the older man warned that the wards would reactivate soon and too not dawdle. 
“This is our stop.” Satoru said, unbuckling his seatbelt before stretching his lanky limbs. In the backseat, Megumi was still gaping at the horses in front of them. He gave Ijichi several hundred dollar bills as thanks, causing the younger to sputter and sweat. As an assistant director, Satoru knew that Ijichi was being overworked as much as the most talented sorcerers. There was so little staff that Ijichi had to do the work of at least ten people every day. He was treated with far less respect than sorcerers and expected to do much more work. Because of his younger age, the elders worked Ijichi harder than anyone else, like he was a dog. Yes, Ijichi did not put his life on the line to fight curses, but the higher-ups were giving their best shot at working assistants like Ijichi to death. It pissed off Satoru immensely. If it was not for Suguru, who was ninety-nine percent of his impulse control, he would have happily murdered those in charge of the assistant directors. Ijichi tried to give the money back, but Satoru remained firm. Eventually, he glared at the man. “Take the cash or else .”
It was an empty, vague threat, but it did its job. Ijichi yelped and bowed his head in thanks and accepted the money, blushing furiously. “Thank you, Gojo-san.”
“Don’t mention it. I know the geezers barely pay you a liveable wage. You need it.” Satoru allowed his cheerful front to drop for a moment. The assistant’s eyes were as wide as saucers from the sorcerer’s kind words. Not wanting to dwell on any thoughts involving the elders, Satoru gave his infamous shit-eating grin. “You better buy me something with that~”
Ijichi nodded frantically. As Satoru helped Megumi with his things, the tired assistant gave a small, grateful smile towards the older sorcerer before pulling out of the driveway and leaving. 
“Your friends are cursed users aren’t they?” Megumi said the second Ijichi’s car was out of sight. 
His abrupt words caused Satoru to choke on his own spit. “How did you- I mean- NO. They aren’t. Uh. They’re sorcerers. Good guys. Super duper nice. They’re harmless…” Satoru began to ramble as Megumi gazed at him with an unimpressed look. Dammit. The kid is too smart for his own good. He had planned to tell Megumi the truth in the safety of the shrine, but his cover was already blown. Ijichi had not been told the reasons as to why he had to drive to a random farm, so Satoru could not say anything in the car. It wasn’t that he distrusted Ijichi, he knew the man was loyal to Yaga and his friends far more than the higher-ups. Even so, the less people that knew about Sukuna and the cursed souls meant less chances of being caught. Ryomen would only allow so much information to be spread. Even Yaga was left in the dark as to where his previous students went. Deciding to bite the bullet, Gojo turned towards his son. He held out his hand, which Megumi begrudgingly took, and led him into the house. Two horses walked up to the pair, likely the youngest of the herd. It was a young filly and colt. The filly had a ginger coat, and she was clearly the more dominant of the two. On the other hand, the colt with strawberry blond fur tried to shove his snout into Megumi’s unoccupied hand. As if knowing the hand was injured, the young horse was incredibly gentle, sniffing at the boy’s fingers. The more prideful female did not get as close, but she was interested in whatever Megumi had in his backpack. 
Megumi had a small grin on his face as he went to pet the colt’s snout, much to the horse’s delight. “I don’t think a sorcerer would ever live this far out in the country. They’re needed in the city far too much. If a curse user wanted to stay hidden, they’d live in a place like this.” The boy’s deduction was correct. For a moment, Satoru basked in the pride of how intelligent his boy was. It made it impossible to hide things from Megumi, but Satoru could not help but be proud. 
“You hit the nail on the head, Megs.” Satoru watched carefully for any signs in Megumi’s posture that would indicate if the boy was fearful of meeting cursed users. When he found nothing, he huffed in amusement and ruffled Megumi’s hair. “You’re such a smart cookie!”
“Quit it!” Megumi snatched the hand in Satoru’s hold to swat at the much taller male. The ginger filly whinnied loudly at the two, almost like she was laughing. “See? Even the horses can see how annoying you are!”
“Oh, the pain! To be betrayed by my own flesh and blood! After all the hours I spent bringing you into the world!” He placed a hand on his forehead in fake agony. 
“We aren’t related! And you are not my mom!” Megumi growled with a fierce glare. However, it only made the boy look more like a hissing kitten in Satoru’s eyes.
“So mean!” 
They spent a few more moments with the horses until Satoru finally lead Megumi towards the inside of the house. The door hinges creaked loudly from lack of care. There was a scent of dust all around, but the house was relatively clean. The living room they were standing in was mostly barren, save for a ratty couch and worn chairs. Storage containers could be seen in every corner, organized in a system only Ryomen knew. Gojo knew better than to mess with any of the containers. 
Megumi had gone quiet again, observing the house. 
Eventually, he spoke up. “Your friends don’t live here, do they?”
“They don’t, but no one can disclose the location of their home. I made a binding vow along with the others to not reveal where their place is.” Gojo gestured towards the old home. “This is a middle ground of sorts. It’s safe if others know its location, that’s why Ijichi knew where to go.”
“But if we’re here, then how are we going to get to your friend’s house?” Megumi asked with a frown. The gears in his head were turning as he attempted to figure out the answer. Gojo could practically see the steam coming out of his nose. 
Satoru placed a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, kneeling to be at eye level with the boy. “I know you don’t like it, but we’ll be warping there. The place has countless wards and seals installed so no one can enter. It’s temporarily disabled, so we can travel there without issue. Warping is the only way.” At the idea of teleporting, Megumi shuddered. It was so disorientating, many had asked Satoru how he never experienced the effects of his teleportation. However, Satoru did feel the nauseating sensations that came with warping, he had just gotten used to it after years of practice. Besides teleporting, Satoru knew there was something more important to discuss with Megumi. “It won’t be too bad, Megs, I promise. But there is another thing-”
“Is it about the guard dogs you made up?”
“Damn, you're on a roll, kid.” Satoru muttered, mildly impressed. He pretended to not notice how Megumi’s little chest puffed up. With his knees beginning to hurt, Satoru decided to sit down, Megumi following suit. He pulled out his phone and opened a private album of photos that no one was allowed to see. There was even a passcode to the photo album. Satoru held out his arm in invitation, and Megumi climbed into his lap. Any embarrassment he would have felt was ignored for the boy’s need to learn more. Satoru pulled up a photo that he knew Megumi would enjoy. “You’re right, they aren’t guard dogs. Though, they still perform the same purpose of protecting my friend’s son. They’re called cursed souls. I’m sure you’ve heard of them, considering how much you like to sneak into Suguru’s study.”
“It’s his fault he didn’t invest in good locks.” Megumi defended. The preteen shifted his attention to the photo and immediately had to bite his lip to not burst out laughing. It was a picture of Nanami, but it depicted the man in a way Megumi had never seen before. To start, Nanami was not wearing his signature glasses and suit. He had on a loose, blue tank top and black joggers that were covered in sweat and mud. The normally stoic sorcerer had his eyes wide, looking behind him. He looked like he was shouting at someone with how his head turned and mouth opened. His well kempt hair was an utter mess. He was clearly being chased by something. It reminded Megumi of the many silly chase scenes he had seen in the cartoons he watched periodically with Mimiko. 
The ones responsible for chasing the blonde were three of the strangest creatures Megumi had ever seen. 
It was true that he had snuck into Getou’s study multiple times, but there was not as much information as Megumi hoped. It was mostly boring paperwork that Megumi did not care about. The treasures he did find were more interesting than any nature documentary. Getou had several drawings and notes describing beings called cursed souls. He had wanted to take the papers and read them in his room, but he knew that Getou was as observant as Gojo. He knew there were more details, they just were not in the study. Any items like textbooks or documents were likely hidden within Getou’s inventory curse. Megumi hated the ugly worm. Whenever he got his phone or remote to his television taken away, Getou would put it into the worm for safekeeping. Megumi knew he could not ask Getou about cursed souls without tattling on himself. From what little he managed to read on cursed souls, Megumi knew that they behaved differently from cursed spirits, they were powerful, they were unpredictable, and Getou hated the one that looked like a bird. 
He recognized the three cursed souls chasing Nanami from Getou’s sketches. Getou normally enjoyed drawing the many curses he encountered or consumed, so Megumi was not surprised that he would make sketches of these strange entities. One of them was a purple cat that had long, black spikes shooting from its back. It was the closest to catching Nanami, but the cat had a playful expression on its fluffy face. It had no intention of actually attacking Nanami. Behind the cat, there was a behemoth of a dog following with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. Concealing the canine’s face was a skull that could not belong to any animal on earth. To start, The top of the skull was jagged and uneven, as if there used to be horns that had been broken off, and seemingly fused into the dog’s face. It was wide enough to cover the canine’s wide features. Additionally, there were two tusks that curled upwards from the upper jaw. When Megumi saw the bottom jaw, he lost all hope of trying to identify the skull. It was bisected with jagged teeth throughout. It allowed the real mouth of the canine to move freely. Besides the haunting skull and strang fur pattern, it looked like an ordinary dog. A massive one, but still a dog. From the slobber on Nanami’s face, it seemed that the canine had given the blonde many kisses. Megumi’s demon dogs did not produce slobber, so their licks were exponentially less messy. The boy could not help but snicker at the image of Nanami being tackled by an overexcited puppy the size of a bear. 
The third creature had no animalistic features whatsoever, a stark contrast to the first two. Megumi turned to Gojo, a question on his lips. Before he could speak, Gojo answered for him. 
“The last one looks like Nanami, huh?” 
“Yeah. Did it copy Nanami or something?”
“Sort of.” Gojo pointed a finger at the last cursed soul. It had several spotted wrappings reaching towards Nanami. The left side of it looked like it was on fire while the rest of its body resembled a mummy. Its lower half reminded Megumi of a serpent. All the wrappings were identical to the ones Nanami used on his blunt sword. The cursed soul even had an altered version of Nanami’s glasses. When he looked closer, Megumi realized that the creature was wearing a second pair of glasses on top of its head. Likely Nanami’s. Gojo’s voice broke the boy out of his musings. “I’ll tell you everything when we get there, okay? If we wait any longer, the wards are going to reactivate.”
Megumi nodded, hundreds of questions swimming in his mind. He felt Gojo pick him up and instinctually wrapped his arms around the elder’s neck. The boy prepared himself for the unpleasantness that came with warping. Gojo gave the boy a squeeze, a nonverbal warning that he was about to teleport. He closed his eyes.
He felt the world around them shift and change. It felt like going on an elevator that was going too fast yet too slow at the same time. The elevator moved up and down, right and left, everywhere and nowhere. 
Then they were somewhere. 
“We’re here! You can open your eyes, kid.” Gojo said reassuringly. When the dizziness and nausea faded, Megumi was placed onto the ground. 
This wasn’t a house. 
It was a temple. 
Megumi was about to demand where the hell Gojo had taken him, but was stopped by a pink blur tackling him to the ground. As the boy’s mind processed what had happened, he went to yell at the jerk who slammed into him. However, any anger Megumi had vanished as he locked eyes with his assailant, who was giving him the biggest smile Megumi had ever seen. 
The younger pink boy wrapped like a koala around Megumi pulled away for a moment. “Hi! I’m Yuuji! I’m so happy to meet you!!!”
Somehow, Megumi just knew his suspension would not be as bad as he thought. 
-
If he was being honest with himself, Sukuna did not expect Megumi and Yuuji to be nearly as close as they used to be in this world. 
He had never been more wrong. 
Having Yuuji and Megumi meet was one of the best decisions Sukuna had ever made. Even Ryomen had begrudgingly admitted how grateful he was for Yuuji’s new friend. With a friend that was actually a child and not an adult or ancient curses, Yuuji blossomed. The amount of nightmares that Yuuji had had diminished greatly due to Megumi’s calming presence. 
Sukuna had not anticipated the bond between the two to be as strong as it was. Instead of being the same age, Megumi was roughly six years older than Yuuji now. It made sense back then for the two teenagers to befriend each other. Two teens had similar issues to relate to and were capable of having a balanced dynamic. Through Yuuji, Sukuna had seen how much the boys cared for each other. It had been something that Sukuna could take advantage of, and he did . He expected Megumi and Yuuji to be acquaintances at best in this time. Megumi was someone who was aloof and preferred to be alone. He did not seem like the type to be fond of children. He wasn’t.
But he was fond of Yuuji. 
Instead of ignoring the younger boy, Megumi had more or less decided that Yuuji was his little brother from now on. He was patient with Yuuji, helping him with preparing for kindergarten. Without any sign of the grouchiness Megumi was known for, he would explain the subject of Yuuji’s lesson in a way the boy could understand. It had been quite difficult for Ryomen when he was teaching Yuuji about reading, writing, and colors. Yuuji became distracted easily, often retreating into his own mind or daydreaming. Ryomen had never had the opportunity to teach Yuuji in things like literacy during their life in the Heian Era. The man had to prioritize on not having Yuuji starve or freeze to death every day. He enjoyed teaching Yuuji in the beginning, but soon realized he was out of his league. Ryomen himself had never been allowed to study in his previous life, learning how to survive instead of how to read. It was Sukuna who had taught Ryomen the basics. However, Sukuna’s teaching style was much less gentle. His tactics involved threatening Ryomen about ‘chopping off your dumbass head if you don’t memorize these damn kanji’. Among other threats of bodily harm or cannibalism. Megumi was the complete opposite. He tutored Yuuji without a hint of difficulty, no threats of eating his student alive whatsoever! Sukuna was slightly envious.
As a result of Megumi’s lessons, Yuuji felt more confident than ever about entering kindergarten. 
“Sukuna, are you sure-”
“Yes, Ryomen.”
“But-”
“No.”
“What if I-”
“ NO .”
“You’re a dick”
“Uh-huh.”
For Ryomen’s sake, they had agreed on having Yuuji start kindergarten at age six. The extra year had helped Yuuji be at the level he needed to be for school. If it wasn’t for Megumi’s tutelage, Yuuji would be incredibly behind academically. The many hours Megumi spent with Yuuji made the younger one stick to the preteen like glue. Whenever Megumi visited, Yuuji would follow him around their home like a duckling. Megumi did not seem to mind Yuuji’s clinginess, happily including Yuuji in whatever he was doing. He would talk about what he did at school and his older sisters the most. When he would speak about going to restaurants or shopping trips with his family, the longing in Yuuji’s eyes could be seen as clear as day. The boy had never gotten to know the pleasures childhood had to offer. However, Yuuji did not become angry like Ryomen or Sukuna anticipated. The child had every right to be upset, scream, or through a fit. Even so, Yuuji did not. Yuuji simply became…sad. He would ask a few questions about the outside world to Ryomen or Sukuna and would go quiet after they answered. Yuuji would nod his head before sitting on the backyard porch, Supernova usually settling in his lap. 
Sukuna could not stand the ‘kicked-puppy’ look in Yuuji’s eyes any longer. After many arguments that involved flames and blood, Sukuna had forced Ryomen to agree to letting Yuuji visit Megumi’s house for a few hours. Gojo and Getou had enthusiastically agreed, promising that nothing would happen to the boy. The guardians were not pleased at all. Only Supernova could accompany Yuuji due to his ability to shrink. It was impossible to hide away something as large as Infinite. The guardians’ forms were not discreet whatsoever. At least, Supernova could hide away in Yuuji’s backpack or hoodie. 
They had needed the boy to leave the temple for a reason. Yuuji’s first day of school was tomorrow, so Sukuna thought that a celebration was in order. It had been Gojo that had suggested a surprise party. The limitless user had bought gaudy decorations and entire boxes of Cyclop Cat Creamery desserts for the party. After seeing the competition Yuuji had had with Sukuna, Gojo demanded another contest. Yuuji had been too exhausted after his eventful birthday to have the ice cream eating competition he wished for. His fifth birthday ended with Sukuna and Yuuji eating their bowls sleepily. At the thought of a proper contest, Yuuji had perked up. Gojo and Yuuji talked endlessly about the competition and what they would do. Their energy was overwhelming to say the least. 
“Shit. I melted one again.” Ryomen grumbled. 
“Then let me handle the rest. You need to calm the hell down.” Sukuna responded without looking up from the table he was setting up. 
Even though Yuuji would be gone for less than a day, it was still the first time that Yuuji would be leaving the shrine. The boy could not contain his excitement when he was told the news. It was an important milestone for Yuuji. He would be leaving the safety of the shrine. Despite knowing that nothing will happen to Yuuji with the two strongest sorcerers by his side, Ryomen had never felt more terrified in his life. Sukuna had wanted to yell at Ryomen to shut up, but the trembling in Ryomen’s body stopped him. 
Their shared soul told Sukuna everything Ryomen was not willing to say. 
It wasn’t that Ryomen was a controlling parent and freaking out about his child being out of his grasp. Not at all. Ryomen encouraged Yuuji to make his own decisions and be his own person. He did not want to hold his son back. However, leaving the shrine was different. Ryomen now knew that Kenjaku and the disaster curses were out there. Sure, Kenjaku’s plan would not occur in another few years, but nothing was stopping the curses from harming Yuuji. Kenjaku did not need a plan to hurt his son. The fact that Kenjaku could disguise themselves as anyone in the country without detection made things worse. 
Sukuna saw the haunted look in Ryomen’s eyes. He was grasping a pint of ice cream so tightly that the carton had popped. The pain of flames and grief within their soul gave insight into where Ryomen’s mind was. It was the day the Ryomen had been burned alive with his deceased son in his grasp. The son that a healer had tried to take away and toss into a mass grave. The day that Ryomen left his humanity in the ashes of the village that he had once grown up in. 
The curse himself had seen the event firsthand. Sukuna had seen the soul-crushing agony Ryomen had felt when he realized that his son was not coming back. That type of pain could not be forgotten. Sukuna could still remember the scent of burning flesh and the sound of guttural howls from a man shattered by the cruelty of the world. Ryomen had never been the same, no one would remain unchanged after such an event. However, Sukuna had seen Ryomen’s normal concern for Yuuji begin to revert to the terror the man had felt centuries ago. 
That man would burn the entire world if his son was harmed and not be satisfied even after everything was destroyed. 
That man could not return. 
“Ryomen, go back inside. Watch your shitty television shows with Boogie and cry out the shit in your head.” Sukuna did not phrase it as a suggestion, but as an order. 
The man jolted at the curse’s sharp words. “What about the-”
“I’ll handle it. Go.” Sukuna spoke tiredly. He pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his face with a groan. “Yuuji will be back in an hour. I doubt he wants his father on the verge of a meltdown at a celebration meant for him.”
No rebuttal came from Ryomen. He was hesitant to leave until Boogie gently tugged on Ryomen’s hand with his teeth. The dog whined pleadingly for the man to listen. Ryomen resisted for a few seconds before giving in. He glanced at Sukuna, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than they had been in years. “Thanks, Sukuna.”
“Don’t mention it. Ever .” 
“Wasn’t planning to.” The pink-haired man ruffled Boogie’s fluffy mane. Immediately, the dog’s large tail began wagging so quickly that it became a blur. Supernova and Boogie had always been the closest to Ryomen. The purple feline helped Ryomen immensely during Yuuji’s infancy and continued to give his father useful insight on Yuuji’s wellbeing. Whenever Ryomen was overwhelmed after a stressful day or was being haunted by the horrors of his past, Supernova would leave Yuuji’s side, as long as it was safe, to keep the man company. Normally, the breakdowns, anxiety attacks, and other episodes that Ryomen suffered from occurred in the dead of night. Sukuna had no idea how to help, but Supernova somehow did. He would place himself on Ryomen’s chest and begin to purr and knead his paws, allowing Ryomen to pet his silky fur as much as he wanted. Sukuna would always be nearby as silent support, but it was Supernova that did most of the work. Boogie was the one that made Ryomen let loose. The mastiff was the most energetic of the guardians and was one of the few things that can tire an energetic Yuuji out. Especially a Yuuji with a sugar rush . His jovial energy was contagious to Ryomen. When Boogie wasn’t making Ryomen chase him or wrestle, the dog was Ryomen’s movie partner in the shitty dramas he watched. Sukuna had caught the two sleeping on the couch after a binge countless times, a puffy eyed Ryomen using a snoring Boogie as a blanket and pillow. 
It seemed that the guardians helped more than just Yuuji. 
Sukuna knew he would never be the subject of their concern, and he had accepted that. The cursed souls would not attack Sukuna like they did when they had first met, Yuuji would burst into tears if he saw the way Sukuna and the guardians hurt each other. Over the years, the guardians were mostly indifferent towards Sukuna and kept their distance. Infinite would still find new ways to make Sukuna’s days worse, but the bird did not give Sukuna hallucinations anymore. He would take Infinite’s pettiness over his psychic torment any day. 
At least, they were useful today. Without Yuuji, the guardians were lost on what to do. They were restless. Even though they had the perfect opportunity to attack Sukuna, they decided to aid him with the party. It was only for Yuuji’s sake. Infinite made it his personal mission to remind Sukuna of their dislike. The draconic bird would peck Sukuna with his sharp beak and then pretend that he had done nothing. Currently, Infinite had his beak shoved into the pint of ice cream Ryomen had dropped. His lengthy body was tangled in part streamers, but the entity did not care enough to remove them. Overtime slapped Infinite, causing him to squawk in offense, before taking the pint. The mummy used his wrappings to clean up the mess Infinite had made of himself. With Overtime occupied with Infinite, the two remaining guardians had to take on his workload. Resonance had placed herself in charge of decorations and would raise a razor-sharp nail threateningly at anyone who tried to interfere. The roses she conjured were quite beautiful, so Sukuna didn’t mind. 
“Don’t even think about it.” Sukuna growled. 
Chimera had been assisting with the chairs and supplies needed for the competition. However, the inky entity had apparently finished due to the fact that the being was now trying to sick his wretched frogs on Sukuna. Chimera clicked harshly in response, green eyelights narrowing. When his eyelights went to shift into another shikigami, Sukuna growled again. While Infinite was obvious with his hatred, Chimera’s ire with Sukuna was much more subtle. He would summon his frog shikigami the second Sukuna’s back was turned and release the frog the second someone was watching. Chimera’s gama frogs were a pain to deal with. They were not as dangerous as Nue or his demon dogs, but they were annoying. If Chimera was lucky, he would have a frog shoot its tongue directly into Sukuna’s ear. He had been successful a handful of times, and Sukuna remembered each one very well. 
A distorted warble came from Chimera as he stared down Sukuna. Eventually, Chimera’s hatred was put aside, knowing that Yuuji would be upset if his uncle was hurt. Despite not having any facial features besides his eyelights, Chimera appeared to be scowling fiercely. He shrunk into his smaller form, a sea-urchin blob of malcontent, and went underneath a table. 
This was going to be the longest hour in Sukuna’s life. 
.
.
.
-
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.
.
The crisp air provided by the spring breeze in combination with the warm sun made it the perfect time to eat something cold. Many people were likely partaking in eating their favorite frozen desserts on such a nice day. 
One such family was indulging in the need for an ice-cold treat. However, what should have been a relaxing time spent with others had turned into an all out war. 
“QUIT CHEATING, SUGURU!” A man with white hair and dark sunglasses barked. It was Gojo Satoru, the person known for his sweet tooth, and he was being beaten by his partner. 
Suguru Getou, a sorcerer with a technique that forced him to eat the most vile objects in existence, chuckled. He had just finished his third bowl while Satoru was still on his first. In a sickly sweet voice, Suguru crooned to his boyfriend. “I’m not cheating, darling. You’re just being a sore loser. Even Yuuji is miles ahead of you.”
The boy mentioned perked up from his name being called. His cheeks were full of ice cream, making the child resemble a hamster. Five bowls were stacked next to him and he was already halfway through his sixth. His honey eyes sparkled with glee as he nodded to Suguru, mouth still full. When the boy swallowed, the other adults at the table watched for signs of discomfort, but Yuuji did not even flinch. 
“WHAT?! YUUJI-KUN! ARE YOU JUST IMMUNE TO BRAIN FREEZE?!!” Gojo exclaimed with wide eyes. 
Instead of seeing who could eat the most ice cream at once, the competition centered around who will get the infamous ‘brain freeze’ that comes with consuming something cold. If the competition had been based on the former, then Gojo would win without question. However, the sorcerer had to take miniscule bites to prevent his head from aching. Gojo Satoru was notorious for many things. Being the strongest sorcerer in the modern era, being the first person in five hundred years to inherit the Six Eyes and Limitless, being the fastest person on the planet, being a skilled mathematician and physicist, among many other things. One of said things was the fact that Gojo Satoru had NO tolerance for frozen sweets. His mind was always running one hundred miles per hour, so his brain was vulnerable to experiencing a brain freeze. It was ridiculously easy to make Gojo have a brain freeze. Due to this, Gojo was trying to eat as slowly as possible to prevent it…But-
“AGH FUCK!”
“Language!”
It didn’t work. 
“Gojo! You’re out!” An older boy with black, spiky hair and a megaphone announced from his seat on a lounge chair. Beside him were the first contestants that had lost, Nanami and Shoko. Though, neither person wanted to participate in the contest, so they forfeited after one round. Now, the pair were relaxing on identical lounge chairs the boy was sitting on, a bowl of their preferred flavor in their hands. Each had sunglasses and a matching smirk. 
The man in his twenties pouted, but left the ‘podium’. “Fine, but I’m gonna be the announcer! You suck at it, Megs!”
“I do not!” Megumi shouted, holding the megaphone to his chest. 
“Yeah! Fushi is the best announcer!” Yuuji defended his friend without hesitation. He pointed his messy spoon at Gojo with a frown. “Don’t be a meanie!”
“See! Yuuji said I’m better, so go away!” Megumi made a shooing motion with his hands.
Gojo shook his head with a frown before disappearing. He reappeared behind Megumi’s chair with a microphone in hand, causing the preteen to seemingly jump out of his skin. Wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulder, Gojo smiled devilishly. “We’ll be a tag team then! I’ll do the cool stuff and you do the boring stuff.”
Knowing that Gojo would not take no as an answer, Megumi just rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Fine.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet, Megs!” Gojo cooed before kissing his son’s cheek with an obnoxious ‘MWAH!’ 
Megumi looked like he had been stabbed. When he touched his cheek, his pale skin adopted a twinge of green. “You got ice cream on me, you jerk!”
Instead of responding, Gojo just stuck out his tongue cheekily. As Gojo approached the podium that was really two tables stuck together with a cloth on top, he raised the microphone to his lips. When he spoke, he sounded identical to a sports announcer. “Welcome folks to the most intense competition you will ever see! We pitted several champions against each other to determine who has the Toughest Brain in Japan!” He turned to his son with a flourish. “My fellow commentator, Megumi, will inform us on the rules of the game!”
For a moment, Megumi stayed silent while glowering at Gojo. Eventually, he caved in with a sigh and began to speak in a monotone voice. “You have to eat ice cream until the timer runs out or we run out of pints. Whoever gets a brain freeze is out. The person who lasts the longest without getting one is the winner with the thickest head, I guess.” 
“Indeed! Let’s look at our leaderboard. Tied for dead last are Nanami and Shoko! Who quit after one round to laze around like old people!” Gojo pointed at the aforementioned forfeiters. Neither reacted to their friend’s overdramatics. However, Shoko flipped the taller one off without looking away from her bowl. After Gojo finished teasing the two, he approached the table. He leaned down to the man sitting next to Yuuji. “It seems that Ryomen is the closest to being out! How are you doing, champ?”
The only answer Gojo got from Ryomen was a groan. His head was pressed against the surface on the table. Beside his head was a bowl of melted ice cream. “Trying to drink it was a mistake.” Ryomen’s muffled voice slurred. His hands were wrapped around his stomach in pain. Groggily, he lifted his head to try eating more, but gave up. “Yeah, I’m done.”
Yuuji patted sticky hands around his father’s broad back. “Papa, you gotta keep going! You can do it!” 
“Honey, if Papa keeps going, Papa is going to hurl.” Ryomen said, face still planted on top of the table. However, his words did not placate his son. It had the opposite effect. With determination in his golden eyes, Yuuji shook Ryomen harder. The boy’s inhuman strength accidentally made the entire table shake. 
“You can do it, Papa! I believe in you! You’re super duper strong! Your fire powers can just go FWOO and then HYOI! BRAIN FREEZE HAS NOTHING ON THAT, PAPA!” Yuuji said encouragingly. And loudly. Very loudly. “DO FWOO HOI, DAD! FWOO, HYOI!”
From her seat, Shoko cackled. “Kid’s gotta a point! Fwoo, hyoi is the way to go!”  
Gojo and Getou sent her a withering glare. 
Shoko grinned.
Ryomen groaned. “Yuuji, honey, not so loud. Inside voice-”
“But we’re outside?” The pink-haired boy cocked his head, confused. 
“Then use your Don’t-Make-Papa’s-Ears-Bleed voice.” Ryomen pleaded. He willfully ignored the mocking laughter from the four armed curse next to him. 
Finally noticing how terrible his father looked, Yuuji quietened. “Okay, Papa.”
“Thank you, son.” 
“Does your tummy hurt?”
“Yes, Yuu.”
“Oh! Do you need the orange tea that you give me when my tummy hurts?”
“Not right now, hun.”
“What about hot cocoa? It makes me feel better because it’s so yummy!”
At the thought of consuming another sweet, Ryomen sprang out of his seat with a hand on his mouth. He breathed deeply for a few moments until his stomach settled. Looking like he had completed a marathon, Ryomen panted. “Papa is gonna join the loser’s spot. Beat your uncle for me, alright?” 
Fortunately, his request halted any further questions Yuuji had. Without Ryomen in between them, Yuuji and his uncle could see each other. They locked eyes.
The curse with four arms and similar pink hair bared his sharp teeth in a challenging grin. He had eaten the most out of the group with a tower of bowls wobbling precariously. “So you think you can beat me, brat?”
“Yeah! I’m going to beat you and make you give me piggyback rides every day!” Yuuji replied with the same glint in his eyes that his uncle had. Both were competitive to a fault. “I’m gonna win, Uncle Kuna!”
“That a challenge, brat?” Sukuna leaned towards the boy, his predatory smile growing wider. 
“Yeah!” 
“Good luck, brat. You’re really going to need it.” Sukuna ruffled Yuuji’s hair, his hand large enough to palm Yuuji’s head. 
“Hey! I’m gonna beat you even more ‘cause you did that!”
“You mean lose?”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yeah-huh!”
“Nuh-uh!”
As the uncle and nephew playfully bickered, Gojo slunk to the opposite end of the table. His grip around his microphone tightened as he bore his piercing gaze into a smug curse manipulator. “With Ryomen out of the competition, it seems that we are down to our final three. I wonder who our next loser is.” 
Getou smiled like a snake that had just caught its prey. He batted his eyes innocently at Gojo. “May I ask why you’re staring at me in particular, announcer?” 
“Because dry ice is next!” Megumi answered before the taller sorcerer could. His bored expression turned malicious. It was a look Getou and Gojo knew well. It was the look their children had before turning into goblins of mischief and mayhem. All the confidence Getou had been feeling vanished as Megumi grinned like the evil miscreant he truly was. “We’re entering the Sudden Death Round!” 
The moment the words left Megumi’s mouth, a screech sounded from the leaves of the largest tree in the backyard. Twigs and leaves fell as the creature inside climbed down. Snow white fur, colorful feathers, and a hooked beak twisted in amusement. It was Infinite, the being who loved tricks more than anyone. Infinite’s talons dug into the bark of the tree as he descended vertically. When he reached the soft ground, the draconic bird trotted to Megumi with a pleased trill. The group of cursed souls that Infinite belonged to did not react to his antics. Similar to Shoko and Nanami, the other cursed souls were sound asleep across the land. Two of them, a demonic canine and feline, had smaller bowls of their own that had been licked clean. The larger of the two, Boogie, was laying belly-up with a full stomach and snores. Supernova, the feline, had hopped onto Ryomen’s lap before promptly falling asleep in the perfect imitation of a loaf of bread. Due to not having mouths, Resonance and Chimera watched underneath the shade of a tree. It was up to Infinite to stir up things!
With his beak, Infinite reached into the cooler that Megumi had hidden and procused three bowls of ice cream. Each bowl appeared to be steaming like a boiling pot. However, the vapor was caused by the chunks of dry ice inside the innocuous container. There was only a small scoop in the bowls, small enough that it could be eaten in one bite. Which was exactly what Megumi had intended. Seeing the surprise on his parents’ faces, Megumi revealed his plan. “I knew that Gojo would want to take over the announcer role. That’s why I accepted the role and did it as lifelessly as possible. It would ensure a 100% success rate of Gojo taking my role.” 
“We really shouldn’t get on his bad side.” Getou softly uttered to Gojo, who nodded solemnly. However, Megumi had heard him.
“Too late.” Megumi deadpanned. 
From his seat at the table, Yuuji raised his hand instinctively, the motion ingrained into him after the many lessons he had had with the preteen. “Fushiguro?”
“Yes, Yuuji?” The older boy replied without a hint of the vengefulness he had shown his parents. 
Yuuji spoke in a small voice, curling in on himself. “Am I on your bad side?”
The sharp features of the ravenette softened. Megumi shook his head. “No, you’re not. You can be dumb sometimes, but you’re not stupid.”
While the adults were confused and slightly insulted by his response, Yuuji nodded sagely with complete understanding. “Got it. They’re idiots, but not morons.”
“Exactly.” Megumi nodded in approval. His voice immediately hardened as he looked at the others. “Now. Here’s how Sudden Death works. You have to eat the scoop in one bite and hold it there for at least five seconds. Try to eat it if you can, though I wouldn’t recommend it. You’ll probably break your teeth. Anyways. The one who can hold the scoop for the longest wins. Infinite?”
The cursed soul chirped in agreement. Within his durable beak and talons, the ice cold desserts did not injure him. He would place a bowl, fan it with his tail, screech, and repeat. When Infinite reached Yuuji, he cooed instead of shrieking, preening the boy’s mussed hair. The remaining contestants each had differing expressions. Suguru looked at his bowl with apprehension. Sukuna looked at his bowl with mild intrigue. Yuuji looked at his bowl like it was a hero to be admired. The contestants that had lost looked on in anticipation with Gojo cackling at the sweat beading down Suguru’s neck.  
Infinite retreated to Megumi’s side and chirped three times. The boy patted the cursed soul on the beak, which Infinite leaned into. Once everyone was settled, Megumi raised his megaphone for the last time. “You will begin eating in…Three…Two…”
Megumi stopped.
The remaining three were as taught as the string on a bow. Copying the technique that Gojo often did to annoy others, Megumi let them stew in the heavy silence. He would have made them wait longer, but Yuuji was actually vibrating with how hard he was trying to stay still. Placing the megaphone down, Megumi cupped his hands over his mouth to yell the loudest anyone had ever heard him. “ONE!” 
Instantly, Getou, Sukuna and Yuuji snatched their spoons. They all had a moment of hesitation as they stared at the plain vanilla ball. Deciding to risk it, Getou took the first bite with Sukuna following suit. Yuuji enthusiastically popped the ball in his mouth like a squirrel snatching a nut. 
“OWOWOW! NO! THAT HURTS! THAT REALLY HURTS!” Getou spat out the chilled scoop after half a second. His mouth felt numb all over. He thought his gums and upper palate were frostbitten. Somehow, it was so cold that it burned. He could hear triumphant cheers of Satoru and the quiet snickers of his other friends. 
Sukuna tried to appear nonchalant with the ice scalding his mouth. He had handled much worse. A little cold could not beat him. He made it to four seconds. The cold became too much, and he spat it out with a painful cough. The curse began using his reverse cursed technique to return blood flow to his numb and tingling mouth. Sukuna had been so distracted by the relief he felt to after being rid of the deadly dessert that he barely heard Ryomen’s worried shouts.
“WAY TO GO YUUJI! NOW, SPIT IT OUT!” Ryomen did not know if he should feel proud or terrified for his son not succumbing to the impossibly cold ice cream. So cold that Yuuji could develop irreversible frostbite. Okay, he was definitely terrified. “YUUJI! SPIT IT OUT! YOU WON!”
Taking Ryomen’s pleas as another challenge, Yuuji shook his head. The little boy went to bite down on the ice cream. He wanted to brag about eating the ball to his uncle, so he did not think twice about the consequences. As his jaw clenched, there was a loud CRACK . 
The air went deathly still.
Yuuji finally spat out the ball of ice cream. However, there was a tinge of red to the vanilla. He turned the ball around in his hands and saw his front tooth lodged into it. The boy yanked his tooth out of the scoop, waving it around excitedly to his father. “PAPA! I LOST A TOOTH! CAN WE PUT IT UNDER MY PILLOW?!”
Ryomen gave a shaky thumbs up.
Then he fainted. 
-
“Pencils?”
“Check!”
“Paper?”
“Check!”
“Crayons?”
“Check!”
“Folder?”
“Check!” 
“Snacks?”
“Check!”
“Water?”
“Check!”
“Lunch?”
“Check!” 
“Supernova?”
“Check!” Yuuji giggled, holding his beloved cat in the air. His Papa was so silly! He carefully placed a shrunken Supernova into his backpack. He gave his father a salute that he had seen in one of the movies Gojo had shown him. “Onii-cat is secured!”
“Then it seems that my little cub is ready for class.” His father sounded happy but sad at the same time. He carded his hand in Yuuji’s hair with a happy-sad face. Saddy? Ha-ad? 
Everyone else had given Yuuji hugs and well-wishes yesterday, but not Ryomen. At first, Yuuji thought his Papa was mad at him, but Uncle Kuna told him to not worry. Uncle Kuna said that his Dad was just sad, comparing his feelings to his guardians because they couldn’t come to class with Yuuji. 
He loves you, brat. So do your guardians. Don’t you think they’d be bummed if their favorite person was somewhere they couldn’t follow?
His Uncle Kuna was really smart. Fushiguro was smart too, but his uncle just knew things that Yuuji could never understand. 
All of the other kids had said their goodbyes except for Yuuji and Ryomen. Yuuji really wanted to go to his class, but his Papa still looked sad-happy! An idea popped into his head, and Yuuji wanted to pump his fist in the air. He stood up on his tiptoes and pressed his forehead against his Papa’s. It was a good thing that his Papa was kneeling. He was too tall!
“I’ll be okay, Papa. I pinky promise!” Yuuji stuck out his pinky. 
His Dad blinked several times before the sad-happy just became happy. He linked his larger pinky with Yuuji, a smile on his face. It made Yuuji feel all warm and bubbly inside! He liked it when his Papa smiled.
“Alright, Yuu. It’s a promise.”
“A pinky promise!”
“Yes.” Ryomen kissed the top of Yuuji’s head. “It’s a pinky promise.”
When his father left, Yuuji turned to finally enter his class. It was so colorful! His classmates were running around with toys or drawing on construction paper. He was so excited! Mister Getou had been teaching him how to draw, and Yuuji knew he needed to draw something for each member of his family. 
“Hello, little one. I take it you’re my last student?” A sweet voice spoke from behind Yuuji. He turned around and saw his kindergarten teacher. She had dark hair tied back with a pretty yellow headband-scarf thing. It had flowers all over and it matched with her yellow shirt and blue skirt. She had her hand out, waiting for Yuuji to take it. Remembering what Nanami had taught him, Yuuji took her hand and shook it as hard as he could. Doing it harder meant more respect, right?
His teacher laughed. “It’s nice to meet you too, Itadori Yuuji. I’m Miss Kenko and I’ll be your teacher from now on.”
“I can’t wait!” Yuuji squealed. He already wanted to run around, his legs were screaming for it! 
“Neither can I.” Miss Kenko said. She smiled at him, and it made Yuuji feel warm again. And cold. The nice lady pointed towards the cubbies. “You can place your backpack over there, little one. There won’t be any need for notes. Today is all about introductions!”
“Okay!” Yuuji couldn’t help but squeal. His first day was going to be cool! Not boring! He ran to place his backpack on a hook and took off his shoes, placing it in the nearest empty cubby. He put on his school shoes and grabbed his crayons. He heard Supernova meow worriedly, so he kept the zipper open. “Miss Kenko said we aren’t doing anything today! You can explore if you want! I love you, Nova! Bye!”
He saw an empty desk and headed towards it. There were four pages from a coloring book, just waiting to be filled! The first page was a volcano with spots, the second page was a forest with lots of roots, the third page was a beach with a big squid, and the fourth page was of a funky-looking cube. Yuuji began coloring in the first page when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 
“If you need extra coloring pages, let me know.” Miss Kenko smiled at him again. 
“I will! I’ll show you when I’m done!”
“That sounds great, Yuuji! I’m looking forward to seeing your skills.” With that, Miss Kenko left as fast as she came. It made sense. There were a lot of other students she had to keep an eye on. 
He got so absorbed in his drawing that he completely forgot about the question weighing heavily on his mind. 
The surname his father had given him was Ryomen. Ryomen Yuuji.
So…
Who was Itadori? 
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So what happens in 50 years when I retire on Mars and run my own self-sufficient farm in a domed area on the foothills of Olympus Mons? My own garden (no bugs or rodents to kill), no animals to exploit, no life on the barren land. My solar panels, my water filtration. Organic and ethical. Will carnists scream about veganism then? Perhaps. But I'll gaze up at the sun in the hazy, rusty sky and know that you're back on Earth, the dying planet murdered by beef and dairy industries, choking in smaug and grime. And I'll smile.
I didn’t know Elon Musk knew how to send anons, that’s fascinating.
Nothing truly screams “I care about animal rights” quite like abandoning them and living in a planet separate from them entirely while doing nothing to actually stop climate change lol.
I also have horrible news for you about your “garden” with “no bugs” and the ultimate fate of it, but I would advise you not look up pollination.
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yandere-writer-momo · 10 months
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The Au that they use in other fandoms to give farm animal characteristics to the characters is seducing me, and I can't help imagining it for Baki, mainly those in which the S/O are the farmers and their cattle are in love with them
I need holy water
I get it.
Ranch AU with Rancher Reader
Kaoru is definitely a Belgian Blue bull you rescued. He is too massive not to be. He takes a long time to warm up to you but he slowly becomes incredibly possessive of your time. He refuses to mate any of the cows on the ranch
Jack is a massive Shire horse. He’s so gentle to you and helps take you around the ranch to herd up the others.
Baki is an Australian cattle dog. He terrorizes all the other farm animals to get your attention.
Katsumi is a ragdoll cat that just won’t leave your farm alone. You think he was abandoned so you’re very sweet to him (your other animals are jealous of him).
Retsu is an Anatolian black goat. You find him sitting on all kinds of weird places with Katsumi.
Kureha and Kosho are French Brown dairy cows. They are very demanding when it’s milking days.
Doyle is a Cochin chicken (rooster). He’s a scrappy little thing. Him and Katsumi fight for your attention a lot of the time.
Sikorsky is a Russian red fox that lurks in the forests and constantly tries to steal chickens and eggs from you (Gaia chases him off a lot). Sometimes you leave eggs for him on the edge of the property
Gaia is a miniature donkey that protects your livestock better than Baki does.
Doppo and Natsue are swans that decided to permanently stay on your property. They also adopted Katsumi
Oliva is a Black Welsh Mountain Sheep. He loves being sheered and he takes excellent care of his fleece for you.
Muhammed Ali Jr is a border collie that you adopted from the shelter. Baki and him hate each other.
Kozue is a Holland Hop bunny that lives in your house with you. You don’t ever let her out of your sight.
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deramin2 · 6 months
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Rūrangi should be on more people's radars for queer media.
It's a New Zealand show on Hulu about a gay trans man who works as a youth activist. After his boyfriend commits suicide, he has a public breakdown and runs off. He finds himself back in the small dairy farm he abandoned 10 years ago and starts picking up the pieces. Slowly he realizes that while he did need to leave to live, he also has an important place here where his activism is needed.
His best friend is a bi Maori woman who grew up alienated from her culture and is trying to learn the language and reconnect (and gets into delightful mischief fighting colonialism with the aunties).
His ex-boyfriend is coming to terms with his own bisexuality.
His dad, a many generations dairy farmer, has become an environmental activist practicing organic farming trying to pass a bylaw outlawing chemical fertilizers, which he believes contributed to his wife's death from cancer.
It's about how the movements for queer rights, indigenous rights, and environmentalism are intertwined, and just as important in rural areas as cities. Rural towns aren't just conservative backwaters that aren't worth fighting for. They're full of diverse people fighting for a better world.
It's a really powerful series. Almost all trans and nonbinary creators behind the camera, and trans people playing trans characters. It's a great introduction to trans rights if you have family that are ignorant but not necessarily hostile.
Biggest downside: it's extremely indie. The episodes are short and there aren't many of them. The seasons end on big personal wins, but the overall struggle is very ongoing (it's realistic), and three story is obviously incomplete. I think they're still trying to make more but it's slow going. If they got more viewership and more cast they might be able to finish faster.
I just love how real the series feels. I almost think I'll appreciate it more in 10 years and onward when I can look back on it as a time capsule preserving it's moment and who we were as queer people. There's almost no representation for trans men port there so this is really special for me.
Please give it a watch. There are two seasons so far and the entire season is the length of a movie. So it's easy to get through.
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shonpota · 6 months
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Boycott Israel Products Starts Today! Please reblog! I
We need western market consumers to abandon Israel too! Abandon if you are pro humanity!
Electronic:
HP
Siemens
Banks:
Axxa
Clothing & Fashion Accessories
Ahava
Puma
Source Sandals (Tekking and hiking sandals)
Elie Tahari
TNT (clothing)
Tzomet Sfarim
YVEL (Necklaces, Rings, Earrings, Bracelets)
Leibish & Co. (Natural fancy color diamonds Fine jewelry)
Cassidi
Castro
Fox (Clothing)
Gottex (Designer swimwear)
Honigman
Kenvelo
Naot (Shoes, sandals)
Food & Dairy Products
Nestle: Maggi, Milo, Nescafe, Nesquik, Perrier, etc
Danone
Caxmel Agrexo
Jordan Plains
Karsten Farms
King Solomon Dates
Hadiklam
Starbucks
Sabra
SodaStream
McD
Cola
Milo
Pepsi
L’Chaim Vodka
Landwer Coffee
Lone Tree Brewery
MacDavid
Max Brenner
Mey Eden
Neviot (Spring water)
Noblesse (cigarette)
Osem (company)
Rabl (company)
Strauss Group
Tara (Israel)
Tempo Beer Industries
Time (cigarette)
Tiv Ta’am
Tnuva
Vodka Perfect
Wissotzky Tea
Angel Bakeries
Bamba (Snack)
Berman’s Bakery
Bissli (Israeli wheat snack)
Carmel Agrexco
Carmel Winery
Cow Chocolate
Eden Water
Ein Gedi Mineral Water
Galilee Green
Klik (Candy)
Krembo
Drugs, Health, Medicine & Food Products
Teva Pharmaceuticals
CardiacSense Ltd
Super-Pharm
Teva Active Pharmaceutical Ingredients
Other stuffs
Keter
Outstanding
Lipski
Jardin
Allibert
Curver
Contico
Interstar
Edushape
Taf Toys
Tiny Love
Rummikub
Halilit
Other brands:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Israel barcodes number, don't buy anything that has numbers like these:
Tumblr media
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vague-humanoid · 8 months
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Hannah doesn’t have to call herself a tradwife because she already is one. As such, Ballerina Farm has become the lodestar for those still aspiring to establish an aesthetically pleasing—and, ideally, monetized—pastoral existence. Most of her acolytes are less subtle about their politics, which they assume Hannah shares. In 2021, Morgan Zegers, the founder of the Turning Point USA-affiliated group Young Americans Against Socialism, said that Ballerina Farm gives her “DAILY inspiration on how to live out my values as a Conservative.” On her podcast, Zegers, who recently got engaged and does not have any children, gives “young unmarried women who dream of becoming a traditional wife and stay-at-home mom one day” advice on how to “become an asset for your future family.”
She is far from the only tradwife-in-training who has been inspired by Ballerina Farm. Take Gwen the Milkmaid, a Canadian “ASMRtist” and wellness-influencer-turned-tradposter. “Pov: you used to be a pro-abortion, anti-marriage, lesbian ‘feminist,’” reads the caption on a TikTok post of her rehydrating sourdough starter, “but now you’re getting married to your fav man on earth, love serving him, and can’t wait to make babies.” Like Hannah, Gwen is blonde, posts videos of herself cooking and frolicking in prairie dresses, and emphasizes the difference between her old life and the new one she has built for herself—or, rather, the life she hopes to have built, someday. In one video, Gwen asks God “why I don’t have a fifty-acre farm, seven children, forty chickens and five jersey cows yet.” Lacking a multimillionaire father-in-law, or a dairy cow of her own, she’s forced to churn store-bought cream into homemade butter. Gwen’s videos turn the subtext of Ballerina Farm’s videos into text, as if to compensate for the ranch she lacks: Gwen is proudly antigovernment, antivaccine, and anti-birth control.
Ballerina Farm has also been frequently boosted by Evie Magazine. Billing itself as the conservative answer to Cosmo, Evie publishes articles on everything from “How to Wear Shorts Like a French Girl” to the supposedly rampant child sex trafficking to which the Biden administration has turned a blind eye. In February, they responded to a minor scandal that broke out when details about the Neelemans’ family wealth began circulating on TikTok. The article ends with a full-throated defense of Ballerina Farm. “Our culture has become far too comfortable with criticizing people for being rich,” it reads. “There’s nothing wrong with having money or coming from money. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with using that money to create a beautiful homesteading life that creates useful food, products, and content for people all across the country.” For Evie, the Neelemans’ secret wealth isn’t proof that living off the land is largely inaccessible to the masses but a symbol of the virtuousness of Ballerina Farm’s mission. They have enough money to live glamorously; instead, they choose to live a simple life. That this simple life might be an expensive illusion is never considered.
A month later, the magazine published a treatise on tradwives by Gina Florio, a personal trainer who moonlights as manager to Candace Owens, a conservative commentator whose BLEXIT foundation urged Black people to abandon the Democratic Party. (Owens has also promoted Ballerina Farm on Instagram. Hannah, for her part, reposted the endorsement and later deleted it.) Like Gwen the Milkmaid, Florio is a reformed liberal who wrote for Teen Vogue and PopSugar before she “left the left.” Tradwives, she argues, are superior to “the shrieking, blue-haired protester who wants on-demand abortion and supports the ‘free the nipple’ movement.” She describes Ballerina Farm as the example on which conservative women should model their lives: “The children are blonde and seemingly well-mannered. The father herds cattle in a cowboy hat. And the mother is impossibly beautiful as she milks cows in her overalls, loose braids, and zero makeup.” This is all in contrast to “the average twenty-five-year-old woman” who “lacks basic domestic skills, serially dates multiple men, and loudly opposes manners and decorum.”
To her credit, Florio acknowledges that it’s functionally impossible for most women—even those who want nothing more than to dedicate their entire lives to caring for a husband and children—to fulfill the tradwife ideal. She points out that real wages have stagnated since the 1970s, making it impossible to raise a family on a single income. “We have to really ask ourselves if we want to truly return to tradition,” Florio writes, “or if we want to just fantasize about the perfect trad wife who is both gorgeous and domestic.”
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erikamaybe · 7 months
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Welcome to Hellhound Farms!
Welcome to Hellhound Farms! We hope you enjoy the tour!
We are now entering our Hucow dairy facility. These lovely ladies spend up to 18 hours a day in the mind erasing bliss of being milked! To maintain output they do need to be bred regularly. If you're interested in helping with breeding duties feel free to stay and you can continue with a later tour. If you're more interested in feeding than breeding, they could always use some extra protein. Simply step around to the other side of the railing and give a gal a little tickle under the chin, she'll open wide and be ready for for you to use her throat for as long as you like. There's not a thought in those pretty heads, they don't really need THAT much oxygen anymore.
Moving on, looks like it's time to sheer the sheepgirls! It looks like they're a bit shy today, it's been a while since they've felt this... exposed... But don't worry, these soft little sluts love to show off, so be sure to give them lots of encouragement. Just head on over and give squeeze or a spank or whisper the most obscene thing you can think of in her ear! If she blushes keep going, if she slaps you that just means she's already wet and ready to get railed. It's ok to get a little rough with them, our livestock are studier than they look. Well look at that! With the sheep in for sheering, our hard working dogs have some free time on their hands. Sure, they might look dominant bullying the sheep, but a few head pats and a good girl, and our dogs with be rolling over in a flash to show you their soft bellies and needy holes. Please show them that their hard work is appreciated! Up next, the harpy coop!
Wasn't the Harpy coop amazing? Those girls can push out a dozen eggs every couple days! Now you may have noticed that most of our laborers are centaurs. It's just sooooo convenient to have the height and strength of a horse, and a brain that actually works! Plus, it takes some good old fashioned horse cock to leave some of our gals feeling properly bred. We also have a thriving colony of semi-feral catbois and girls here on the farm to keep assorted vermin and nuisances in check. Some of them are very friendly, but they all might bite or scratch with out warning, so make sure you have a good hold on the scruff before you mount one! We are now approaching the end of the livestock portion of our tour. If you would like to become livestock, you're in luck! We're always accepting applications to abandon the life you knew to live here on the farm. If you want to become one of our centaur laborers we offer short term, long term, and lifetime contracts. And if you'd like to take some livestock home, we hold auctions every Sunday! Whether you're looking for a fresh faced filly, some mommy milkers, or a proven breeding bitch in her prime, we have a wide variety of offerings every week. Be sure to come early for the Meet'n'Greet'n'Fuck brunch before the auction starts.
Moving forward we're approach what put Hellhound Farms on the map, our Living Latex trees! Our unique Living Latex is perfect for so many applications. No drone suit is more comfortable and permanent. Just add a helmet and you're set! Tired of being made of meat? Frail, fallible, delicious meat? Our expert dollmeisters and toy sculptors are standing by to give you the Big Dip and give you the Ultimate makeover! You can become the slutty fuck doll you always knew you were today. We also offer inflatable and onahole options. And once we're done, it's off to the showroom to wait for your future owner to buy you. Or, you can be your own toy and work off you debt as a public use plaything at one of our Hellhound Farms amusement parks or one of our stand alone Latex Love stress relief booths around the world! If you're interested in the classic silicone bimbo look our teams of jab masters are ready to plumpen lips, pump up tits, and thiccen that ass with our silicone alternative Living Latex injections. It's safe, it's soft, it wobbles like jello when you slap it. Whether you want to augment your assets or leave humanity behind, Hellhound Farms has what you need!
And Hellhound Farms needs YOU! Today! No application will be refused! Can't make up your mind? Headmates disagreeing on what to become? Good news! We have timeshare and multi-platform options on all our contracts. What's an extra decade of servitude if you're doing what you love?
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2x4plank · 10 months
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Stepping out of my despair from finishing Season One and I will now talk about Episode Two (my favorite) and then three.
Episode Two is so funny to me. First of all, Mark comes out of nowhere (probably because his introduction would be too boring). He was so enthusiastic to go to the dairy like a kid on Christmas or maybe a man with little to no food finally getting the chance to eat. But he doesn't know the golden rule: never be excited for anything or you might end up being 50% dinner.
Kenny and Lily's squabbles are silly. On one hand, I understand Lily's concerns about food completely, but I think the perfect middle ground is giving the newcomers help and then making decisions about food later. You should help anyone within your power, I believe...even if they do come from some rich private school that can afford to have names stitched into clothing and one of them is as dumb as he is tall.
Kind of unrelated, I love that Lily has an indicator whistle and training routines. In fact, I liked her until what happened in Episode Three.
I knew the St. Johns were cannibals right off the bat or at least killers (those were some suspect camera angles on those biscuits), but they make sure to distract you with the bandit business. The thing was, I didn't know the extent of it. I didn't know "Mark [was] upstairs with NO LEGS!"
The buildup was concise and enjoyable. I love farms/rural areas in survival horror games, so spending most of the episode there was a great choice.
I'm keeping the running joke that Andy was a serial cannibal due to his low social battery, but he probably did get drained by having all those people around. He seems "kind" upfront but when you keep talking to him, he slowly becomes increasingly standoff-ish and it's amusing (if a little scary, as someone who is deathly afraid of being yelled at) to watch him get annoyed at Lee and Kenny's antics--especially when you screwed with the generator. He totally knew they were going to keep messing with that door.
Speaking of Kenny, I suggest Berleezy's playthrough after beating this episode. I completely felt it when he said, "This man Kenny don't do NO WORK!" because I felt so abandoned when Kenny leaves you to open the farm door yourself. You said you'd back me up, man!
Danny on the other hand is...probably the "dumber" sibling? He seems like the one who is better at taking orders than giving them, and in the end, he seemed totally committed to the whole cannibalism bit. Like that man was fully ready to get eaten--he had his heart in it. And that is...I don't know if I'd say commendable?
Finally, Brenda. Uh, she's a single mother running an entire dairy with her two son's help. That's hard. She seems able to make peace with cooking people, but not killing them, which she leaves her kids to do. I love the part when you call her out on their misdeeds and she's like, "That's not a very nice thing to imply. :(" YOU FED US OUR BEST FRIEND! If she was able to disguise human meat as barbecue, then she must be a mean cook though... Prpbably got some sweet and tangy saucy Cajun magic. I'm not gonna lie, even with all the shouting, I'd probably be gobbling like Duck.
But anyway, after dinner, you get locked in a meat locker with a very angry Larry and a good portion of your gang. And again, I'm not gonna lie...I was so inwith the salt lick plan. I think him turning was incredibly dangerous and while it is scarring to Lily, what has to be done has to be done. I was surprised to see so many people choose otherwise because my brain was committed to Clementine's safety. It would've been way too inconvenient to kill him when he turned, so doing it while he was down seemed to be the best and only plan to me. And also it was worth it for the opening in Episode Three where Kenny is like, "Lily isn't doing too well. 🤔"
"Well, we killed her dad."
"We did kill her dad."
And lastly, we have the showdown. When you sneak up on Danny, you find him talking to himself about how he's treated lesser and how he thought he gave Mark enough morphine to lay him out, which ignores the elephant I'm the room: they've been turning guys into brisket. Danny is 50% responsible for making Mark 50% Mark. Then, he moves on to excitedly talking to the cow about his evil plans for trapping escapees before getting caught in his own trap.
Andy is the villain-villain. I love when you tell him, "You brought this on yourself!" And he's says, "Uh-uh!" and throws it back to you like you're the guy that made homies a part of your food pyramid. Like he keeps coming back to the gas. This is all because of gas. I don't know, when most people find that gas is unobtainable due to the price skyrocketing they don't end up holding a ten-year-old at gunpoint. Something to think about.
He's also maxed out the skill of talking trash while he's down. Lee literally beat him past good sense, apparently.
Anyway, 11/10 episode. I should mention I'm partial to cannibal storylines (see: Baker Family), especially when they involve family. They're just fun!
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yuputkaphoto · 1 year
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rametarin · 5 months
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Just a little rant.
Inspired by a childhood and lifetime of dealing with know-nothing vegetarians and vegans since the late 80s.
youtube
Back in the day, vegetarian and then vegan peers would say shit like, "Red meat stays in your bowels and becomes toxic poop for 7 years!" And then go on these weird pseudohistorical rants about how the human body, "isn't meant to eat meat." And then kinda dip into this vague spirituality that can kinda sound like empirical science if you don't read into or question what they're saying.
They'd go on and on about toxic chemicals in the food that big corporations and capitalism just puts there, "to save a dollar" and, that largely was not true. Really, it became a source of bad information and propaganda in the form of a peer, who is usually scared or antagonized by other peers to become outlets of bad information.
And so here we are, 2024, with a ton of vegan youtubers and tiktokkers hitting their wall and abandoning veganism because, nutritionally, it just doesn't work. The very imperative to do it is faulty and bogus, and on the other side we learn everything from our dentition to our organ setup to our physiology requires a certain amount of meat eating, and how there's so much we DON'T know about nutrition to adequately supplement it with pills.
Vegetable substitutes are "okay." But they aren't sufficient to replace meat, pound for pound, nutritionally. And it ultimately just comes down to this weird ideological fixation that vegetarians and vegans have regarding how raising beef is for the planet.
Well, we can mitigate the methane emissions, we can get nutritionally defunct corn out of their diets, we can make sure they are grazing places where it's acceptable. But there's no reason to hate on the beef and dairy industry for existing.
And one of the biggest driving factors is either 1.) The existential horror over the loss of life and the grissly way they're killed to make the food, because they find the entire thing morally repugnant. 2.) The belief in suffering itself. So, kind of buddhist/hindu-lite that won't commit to any real coherent belief system but still wants to treat suffering like it's an element on the periodic table, and ideologically treat killing animals for food like a form of suffering that's not acceptable.
Really, adjusting for the lack of nutrition from meat substitutes, about the only alternative that makes ANY god damned sense, is cloned meat. Those meat tissues that are artificially grown. But, even that won't give the quality meat we need from the sort we get from the organisms themselves;
In order to do that we'd effectively need to clone the animals' entire digestive system and its ability to synthesize the nutrition it gets. That, ultimately, is where the benefit is in eating other animals. Other animals have the ability to process plants into essential vitamins, minerals, amino acids and a whole fuckton of proteins humans just do not have the infrastructure to do, ourselves. Not just grow the animal muscle tissue in a vat. Conceivably not a bad idea, but it's just not a sufficient replacement for actual animal products.
Really the only good argument towards cloned meat in place of just raising animals for meat is that it involves less slaughter and could conceivably take up less space than grazing cattle or industrial chicken farming.
Nutritionally we need it, there's functionally no difference from an animal living and dying in captivity and not if you do it right, and the only theoretical advantage to cloned meat would be the convenience of a chemical vat to grow the meat in the absence of an animal you have to slaughter.
Refusing to eat meat because slaughtering kills animals will always be a major stumbling block that results in generations of people going into their own echo chambers and deciding that those that eat meat are barbaric. But at least now we can make refutations to these talking points more available and visible.
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heart-forge · 1 year
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wow i did not even think about the logistics of ice cream in a post-apocalyptic scenario. now i'm curious about other things like sunscreen and coughdrops. do they make their own sunscreen? i'm assuming it didn't all spontaneously combust with the collapse of society, but where do they find it? it's kind of necessary for pale people because i spend like 15 minutes in the sun and end up burned.. and there are other things like what do they do for periods? just free bleed? cloth pads?
and also are they just relying on clothes and fabric they find? eventually they will run out, yes? are there settlements that spin cotton into thread, then weave the thread into fabric? actually is there trade between settlements? like milk for wool or something??? do they give each other advice? i know like with our settlement and roaches people, they hate each other and people are assholes sometimes, but i feel like some people must have realized it's easier to live if we don't hate each other
are there groups of people that are nomadic? or is it generally agreed that it's better to settle in one place and defend it really well? what did the farm that zed came from look like?? was it defended? did zed and their guardian just assume that everyone else assumed it was abandoned, or that there weren't enough people nearby for it to be a problem? was the farm chosen carefully or was it like whatever this is fine?? what were they doing there, just surviving and maintaining the farm??
also does zeds guardian talk to plants also? i'm assuming yes but i don't know if thats been stated. i'm going to go ahead and assume the farm was super far from other people because a giant wall or something doesn't make sense to me and if there was a giant wall around something near my house i would die to get in so that feels counter-intuitive. also if there are more zeds out there i feel like people would like kidnap them or something to use their powers because people are shitty and that--
--feels like something they would do, or like.. shoot them. so it would make sense for them to be isolated too, so there must be more zeds on more farms with more guardians somewhere, assuming there are more zeds. were the people that raided the farm hunting zeds???? mysteries. anyway i hope you enjoy the four additional asks about zed and the hybrid world.
sorry that cut off so abruptly my thoughts did that too
jfdsjk that's fine that's usually how I generate lore in the first place.
I swear to GOD that I've literally talked way too much about the sunblock thing but searching "sun" "block" "sunblock" and "sunscreen" gave me nothing but a man doesn't just FORGET researching ancient egyptian skin protection, because there was a thing in there about skin bleaching so I left that ingredient out when I talked about it because it had no bearing on the actual recipe.
But the gist of it is that industry invented itself within the past two centuries, so there was a period immediately post-apocalypse where shit was a real mess, but at this point settlements can either produce or trade for things like sun block, wool, dairy products (depending on how close they are to the settlement to trade), all kinds of stuff.
As far as clothes and pads go, that has a lot to do with the right now. Right now, you can look up how to make your own cloth pads that are reusable. Right now, there's so much textile waste that's 100% overproduced clothing being thrown out at the retail level instead of actually circulated once it fails to sell. Clothing and fabric are pretty easy to get a hold of, and they're still able to make stuff like yarn from wool and stuff. Hybrid takes place in a post post apocalypse: the delicate Fallout question of who knows if who is where and when and if they're willing to share resources is something that's already gone through an initial stage of confrontation. Like you said, people can be assholes, especially if they feel like they have power or resources that someone else doesn't: but it wouldn't be unusual for a settlement to have trade routes set up along honestly pretty old routes.
Nomadic people definitely exist, especially those that come from a historically nomadic culture. A lot of video games do a very coy wink and wiggle towards nomadic Romani traditions, various groups of indigenous peoples across the world, stray lore picked up from early Hebrew tradition, all kinds of groups (for better or worse, yikes)! I feel fairly confident that given the opportunity to wander in groups without the interference of people throwing a fit over whether or not you can stay, for how long, and what you can do while you're there, I'm sure more than just the people with a rich history of nomadic lifestyles would jump at the chance. Wandering groups of #vanlife people, plus like, just regular people who were relieved that passports and cops stopped existing.
I've never explicitly stated that anyone but Zed can canonically communicate with plants (yet), but that was definitely a big part of keeping the farm hidden. "The Farm" also doesn't necessarily imply much land at all: it was self sustaining, but my parents do that every summer with a corner of the fields cordoned off for a garden. Realistically their "farm" is a very small parcel of land surrounded by plants who think the weird little guy who lives there is? Pretty chill.
And I did like answering this! Thank-you 💚💚💚💚
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quick-drawn · 11 months
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in case you're new here, the cowboy thing isn't just an aesthetic. cassidy grew up on a farm — a rather large one at that. familiarly: deadlock acres. in addition to CATTLE, they also rotated crops across nine hundred twenty-seven acres. their house was located just about dead center of it, and it was home to not only the cassidy's, but plenty of DEADLOCK activity. while not the headquarters of the gang, colton's father often dragged his work home due to his high position in the organization, much against his wife's wishes. it also didn't help that the entirety of the farm's workforce was made up of the gang's active members, meaning they were on the property often. the farm THRIVED. everyone put in their fair share of effort and performed their tasks well — profits were split between keeping the farm running, providing wages to the "employees" and funding the gang's next contract. it kept people busy, gave them something to work on during down times and put a little change in their pockets — but it also worked PERFECTLY as a coverup for the gang's gun running operations, which was it's main purpose. they had legitimate paperwork for everything — from all of their trucks to the eighty thousand square foot warehouse to the storage bins they used to transport both farm product and gang related merchandise and everything else in between. there have been multiple investigations by local and federal law over the years, but none successful. the receipts, the licenses and permits — everything always fell into place, almost too perfectly... cassidy of course grew up oblivious to this. he simply saw them all as employees, and he enjoyed helping around the farm himself where he could, once he was old enough. his favorite was always tending to the cattle. that's why, when they abandoned the property and uprooted to texas, he'd settle on a RANCH. it supported a wide variety of livestock, big and small, including beef and dairy cattle, chickens and goats. he'd also begin to dip his hands into the equine category a bit later on. it was simply named dry valley ranch — and colton would quickly learn why after experiencing the first drought of the season. miraculously, he wouldn't consequently lose any livestock that year, but he made sure to have the water distribution down to a science by the next season. cassidy got pretty good at running the farm by himself. pretty good for a TWELVE YEAR OLD anyway. it kept him busy, between running the market, keeping up with the farm, and taking care of his mother, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. he oftentimes thinks about going back, reclaiming the property and living that simple life as opposed to fussing with overwatch. what life would be like if he'd never left, never got tied up with the gang or with gabriel... he has no regrets in his life, knows everything happens for a reason — but sometimes he just can't help but wonder.
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its-monster-mash · 3 months
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Moodboards for my New OCs
So I'm planning to write a new horror-sort-of-romance loosely based off of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, so I made a couple of moodboards for the main characters.
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Name: Vanessa "Nessie" Abbott (formerly Andrews). She was given the name "Abbott" when she "joined" the family at three years old.
Eye color: Gray
Height: 5'6"
Age: 19
Backstory: When she was three, her family’s car broke down in the rural hills of West Virginia, not a house in sight. When a man came out of the woods, saying they had a house up the overgrown drive, Vanessa’s (wealthy) parents went with him, in hopes of using his family’s phone, but something wasn’t quite right about the rustic mountain farmhouse, even if it was warm and homey. Unbeknownst to her, while Vanessa played with the family’s younger son, Sylas, her parents were being brutally murdered. The Abbotts told Vanessa that her parents had gone for a mechanic, and when they never came back, they led Vanessa to believe she’d been abandoned, but consoled her with the fact that they would care for her now. 
The Abbotts raised “Nessie” alongside Sylas and the other kids (their biological children, probably). Once she got old enough to help with the killing, she realized what must have happened to her parents, but she tries not to think about it, because she likes her life and loves her new family—all thinking about her old family would do is cause problems.
Nessie doesn’t remember her parents very well, but she does remember her grandma’s house, and how she thought it looked like a castle. Her only really distinct memory of childhood was of playing with the cousins. It’s odd to her to think that those cousins are probably still out there, thinking she went missing with her parents.
Nessie and Sylas are close—she sees him and the Abbott kids as her siblings, but she doesn’t know yet that the Abbotts kept her to be Sylas’s wife.
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Name: Sylas Abbott
Eye color: Green-Hazel
Height: 6'2"
Age: 20
Backstory: Middle child in the Abbott family of cannibals living in the wilderness of West Virginia.
He knows he’s supposed to marry Nessie, and he genuinely loves her, but he’s nervous about bridging that gap because he knows she sees him as her brother, and he doesn’t want her to hate him.
He's known since they were kids that he was supposed to marry her when they grew up, but she didn't get the same memo, so that puts him in an awkward position. Still, the family has him under increasing pressure to make a move.
Takes care of the animal livestock (they eat human meat, but they have sheep for dairy and wool, and chickens for eggs) and the farm.
Notes on other Abbott family members under the cut.
Grady Abbott: 28, 6’1”, brown hair—always has motor oil in it, a little beefier than Sylas. Oldest Abbott child (up for debate whether he’s an Abbott by blood or not). Mechanic; keeps the machines up and running. Gruff personality, not parentified by the parents, but considers himself the “head” sibling. Father’s favorite. (He gets a picture because I found the perfect picture for him when I was trying to find one for Sylas)
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Abigail Abbott: 25, 5’9”, ash blond hair, wiry build, was awkward and lanky when she was younger, but she’s grown into herself. Cherishes The Hunt more than any of the kids; strives to be father’s favorite. Thinks Nessie is being overdramatic when she takes issue with Sylas’s proposal.
Wilder Abbott: 16, 6’1”, ash blond hair, Faye’s twin. Very average redneck teenage boy. Prankster. Great at making traps—learning mechanics from Grady.
Faye Abbott: 16, 5’8”, ash blond hair, Wilder’s twin. “Boyish”, prankster, really good at hiding—Nessie sewed her a ghillie suit which she cherishes. Ambush predator.
Harrison Abbott: Abbott family patriarch, 57, 6’, dark brown hair, wiry build. Quiet, in contrast to most of the family. Dark past (obviously). Obsessed with “keeping meet on the table”. His mom killed his father one incredibly lean winter and fed him to young Harrison to keep him alive. Harrison is intent on never having to eat another family member, and never having his family go hungry. He feels that if they're willing to kill outsiders, they'll never have to resort to killing their own kin.
Genie Abbott: Abbott family mother, 49, 5’9”, ash blonde hair, stout strong build. Classically motherly, mother-hens her children. Considers Nessie a “blessing” to their family (it was her idea to keep Nessie as a future wife for Sylas). Very doting on Nessie, always had her at her side when she was growing up. Grooming Nessie to be the kind of woman she wants her son to marry. Sweet like the smell of a rotting human body.
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The main Victim group when I actually write the book will be led by a cousin of Nessie's from her birth family. A rich asshole. Might have a "Final Girl" in the Victim group, but I haven't decided yet.
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