#Stanford Pines

#Stanford Pines

I’ll show you the Universe.

Buy Me a Coffee

Yes.

Still needs a hug.

Jason: hey, do you think I’m going too far?

Tim: you went too far eight hours ago

Tim: now you’re going to jail

Cute.

…what? Don’t look at me like that, you all knew this was coming. Gr!Mabel and Gr!Gideon give me life.

Wish By Spirit And If By Yes Sabo Headcanons

It has come to my attention that I prolly ought to talk about my Sabo and why he’s this civil-masked broken child who only feels safe being nasty to those he loves. Have some thoughts: His references for emotional stability growing up were his family and Ace. Yeah. Sabo literally grew up with Ace as his touchpoint for emotional health, and they spent most of their day trying to beat each other up. When most people are trying hide their rough edges, he spent that time sharpening his, and most people aren’t prepared for that. And then he forgets. Yeah. (Garp and Luffy show up late and he barely had a year with them; they don’t count but also don’t help) He hates nobility and his family and what he is so much he’d rather live in an actual dump, and yet to this day he wears the trappings of a noble (top hat, cravat, jacket, etc). That takes a really special kind of self-hatred.

The Revolutionary Army has a child army. (I can accept Sabo as a one-off thing because extenuating circumstances, but there were too many children in that flashback for coincidence. Not that many kids are morally driven enough to hunt down and join a revolution.)This is an organization that raises children to be soldiers for their cause. We can assume they indoctrinate them too but that hardly matters to someone in that deep already. But consider: in this group of lonely, broken, probably nothing-left-to-lose child soldiers…even in that company, he still stands out as too vicious and strong. Unpopular opinion: I don’t think Koala and Sabo are friends. I think they’re partners, and she and Sabo get along so well because she respects both his subtle crazy and his suicidal willingness to defy and attack any authority ever. Of course, in my headcanon they have this snipy, mutual respect, unable to pull punches type of masochistic relationship. Like, mostly they laugh and spar and dance on the razor line of propriety, but they know each other’s weak points and can’t help but poke every now and again, and then it gets dirty and vicious and bloody so fast, but they keep it private and it’s kinda a release mechanism because occasionally you just really need someone to remind you that you’re an awful monster, and they’re that for each other he learned high manners and fancy language and he’s very good at pretending to be society-normal, but his normal is a casual violence and words as weapons, which is why he and Ace work so well together. Ace is blatantly mean and straightforward and rude, but he uses it to hide his squishy hope-y center that really wants emotional connections. Sabo wears a polite and nice veneer over his cutting and cruel nature, and he knows better than to think about emotional attachment Basically, that throwaway line about Ace being the emotionally healthiest? Not exaggerating. At least his type of broken can be bettered. tl;dr: Sabo is a small ball of seething self-hatred and anger, and that was before the Army made him into a weapon. Boy is not even a bit okay but he’s very good at hiding it, and those few who know see no reason to fix it.

if no one has beaten me to it, horrible exorcists #42

canon divergence au ahoy. also… prompt divergence? this didn’t end up being what it was supposed to be. i’m v. tired.

(buy your love by playing make believe.)

At the very least, they look good.

Natori had thought once that he might become an actor. He knows how to catch people’s attention. (He does it with intent, now, after years of not having much choice in the matter.) 

A grand old hall in a grand old villa isn’t so much different from a stage, and he can reduce it to set pieces in his mind. Cast the gathered crowd as the chorus and Matoba, whose ability to draw the eye — like every other ability — is just a bit superior, and himself, slightly behind, as his support. 

They look very good, balanced in color, almost matched in height, Natori’s sharp worldliness met by Matoba’s vague otherworldliness. An obvious partnership. He knows what the others see when the look at them. He becomes less a grasping upstart, Matoba less an icy, unreal prodigy. The shining hopes of their generation. That’s casting, too.

They are tremendously helpful to each other, in their ways.

“Talk to Fukuyama-san,” Matoba murmurs as they enter. He can speak almost without moving his lips. “He won’t say useful anything to me.”

“Who will?” Natori tosses back. He can’t speak and keep a steady face, but he can grin through any words.

Matoba’s smile, in response, is very thin. He looks back at Natori the way he looks at his bow before he draws it. “You, maybe.”