More Of These Three

I stayed up until 4:50am looking at CapCut templates so I can make algebralian stuff and found this gem XD

Tw/cw: it’s kinda loud, also a lot of fast movement

Have you ever been to earth?

On earth, we use the word “burrito” to describe a tortilla filled with things you eat. Pretty simple stuff, and I’m surprised you at least got that part right. My burrito was, in fact, filled with food. In this, you and I agree and are friends. But this is also where my lifelong hatred begins for you and anyone else whose brain has been repeatedly scrubbed with the same mixture of bleach and Pop Rocks as yours has. Because that should have killed you, but left you around long enough to do what you did to me today. Let me explain:

You’re an idiot.

Let me further explain:

Burritos are eaten from one end to the other. So that means when you assemble a burrito with motherfucking ZONES of ingredients going that direction, you create a disgusting experience for the burrito’s end user. When you make a burrito, you should put the ingredients in layerslengthwise. That way, every bite has AT LEAST A FUCKING CHANCE of getting at least two types of ingredients, and there is little chance of becoming almost hopelessly trapped in a goddamned cilantro cavern.

Have you ever eaten one of the things you make all fucking day? You should try one. They are pretty good WHEN YOU ARE NOT WILLING YOURSELF THROUGH THE FUCKING EMPIRE OF SOUR CREAM ONLY TO END UP IN LETTUCE COUNTRY.

When you eat a burrito, you don’t stand it up and bite down on it lengthwise like a fucking Rancor. Humans can’t usually dislocate their jaws, and I’m not a fucking pelican. But you must think that’s how it’s done, since that would be THE ONLY FUCKING WAY to take a bite of your crapstrosity and have it taste like a burrito.

And guess what else, player? You probably can’t guess anything, because I’m pretty sure you’re just a mop with a hat on it that fell over and spilled some shit into a tortilla, but just in case, here’s what:

Humans also don’t eat burritos like fucking corn on the cob. Like a fucking typewriter from one end to the other a little at a time and then DING next line. But today I wish I had tried that. Because at least THEN I would be able to eat some rice, then beans, then be all like HEY BEANS I’LL BE RIGHT BACK JUST GOING OVER HERE TO THE GUACAMOLE FOR A SECOND.

Nope.

My experience was more like HEY BEANS IT’S JUST GOING TO BE YOU AND I FOR A MINUTE UNTIL I CAN FUCKING EXCAVATE THE RICE FROM BENEATH YOU BUT BY THEN YOU WILL BE A FADING MEMORY OH HEY I WAS WRONG I’M IN THE FUCKING CHEESEOSPHERE NOW RICE MUST BE NEXT I HOPE IT’S NOT ANOTHER FUCKING SALSA POCKET.

You built this thing like a fucking pack of LifeSavers.

And don’t even fucking think I’m about to open this shit up and re-engineer your nonsense 90 degrees. I ALREADY PUT A HOLE IN IT WITH MY FUCKING MOUTH. YEAH. THAT’S HOW I DISCOVERED YOU FUCKING SUCK AT LOOKING AT THINGS. I AM NOT GOING TO DO FUCKING TORTILLA ORIGAMI TO GET THIS SHIT BACK TOGETHER, ONLY TO END UP WITH A BURRITO THAT’S BEEN SHOT IN THE GUT AND IS BLEEDING YOUR INEPTITUDE.

What’s that? I should ask you to mix it up first next time? IS THIS JAMBA JUICE? I DON’T WANT TO DRINK MY FUCKING BURRITO THROUGH A BENDY STRAW, AND I DON’T WANT A PILE OF BURRITO SOUP IN A FLOUR CAN.

I just want a burrito.

In conclusion:

You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to the universe, you owe everyone everywhere an apology for this burritobomination, and I hope your babies look like monkeys.

UPDATE FOR EVERYONE WHO SAID “JUST EAT IT WITH A FORK”:

A fucking fork?

I DIDN’T ORDER THE FUCKING COBBURRITO SALAD.

If anyone ever handed me a burrito with a fork, THEY WOULD BE WEARING A BRAND NEW BURRITO HAT FROM MY FALL COLLECTION TEN SECONDS LATER.

That’s like buying a car and having them hand you a fucking wrench with the keys. Like YEAH WE KNOW THIS MOTHERFUCKER’S GOING TO EXPLODE AND BE SPREAD ACROSS EIGHT LANES AS SOON AS YOU HIT THE GAS, BUT SHIT, WE GAVE YOU A WRENCH, SO BE COOL.

Jesus already gave me two burrito forks. One at the end of each arm. They’re called fucking HANDS.

A fork. My god. I haven’t cried since I was six, but I’m fucking sobbing now.

People eat burritos with forks?

God is sorry he made us.

(Source)

A what now?

4x + extra four bc i've been obsessedSorry

Okay, I’ve seen a lot of people say that the writers “went back” on Four’s character development, and that he acts the same in TPOT as he did in pre-split, and to that I say. No!

Okay, yeah, Four is still kind of a jerk sometimes. He tried to keep the EXITors trapped even after BFB ended. He’s been mean. But I don’t think they’ve completely erased his development either.

Four is a complicated character. In the BFB finale, he apologized to the contestants for hurting them so much. He was genuinely vulnerable and admitted that he was in the wrong, and because of that, he was able to strengthen his bond with those contestants, and that’s great!

But he’s still the same person. He will continue to make mistakes. Even if he’s working towards being a better person, that takes time.

And I’m not saying we should excuse his actions or anything. He absolutely traumatized Pencil and needs to be held accountable for that.

But I think that scene in BFB 30 was showing that he CAN apologize. He CAN recognize his mistakes. He CAN be better, and it’s going to take time, and he will hurt more people, and he might have traumatized the EXITors, and he’s still a jerk sometimes, but he CAN change. He CAN be vulnerable. He CAN apologize to Pencil and try to make things right again. He’s not the same as he was in pre-split, because he has learned that he needs to change, and if he keeps trying he will eventually become a better person.

I don’t think any of that made sense. I’m tired, I’m just trying to force myself awake until TPOT 17 comes out/

MEOWMEO another bomb incoming!!/silly

(ill colour if bothered) I LOVEE FOURX

fully obsessed with them

•☽────✧˖°˖ SUMMER MEMORIES ˖°˖✧────☾•

(COMMISSION)

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson ENA X Reader Who Likes To Draw

★ Commissioner: @namosaga

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ You doodle when you’re bored. You doodle when you’re sad. You doodle when ENA’s talking about a “high-risk divestment strategy involving artificial soap and stolen cafeteria spoons.” And at some point, you started doodling her. It’s not just her whole self—though that too, many times. Sometimes it’s just the curve of her clawed hand reaching for a megaphone. Sometimes it’s her striped suspenders tangled around a heart. When ENA notices, her Salesperson side lights up like a SALE sign. “Ohhhh. What’s this? That triangle is my face! Do you find me marketable? Beautiful? Business-presentable?” You nod. The Meanie stares. “Gross. Now we’re a MUSE? Ew. I’ll be charging you royalties for my likeness.”

☆ She finds the sketchbook one day when you’re away—left on a folding chair by a half-eaten pastry and an unopened bottle of fizzy coffee. She’s not snooping, no, not at all. Salesperson insists she’s “simply browsing local investments!” The first ten pages are filled with swirled lines, nervous clutter, random eyes. But then she sees herself. Over and over. Her bent legs, her hair curling wrong in the wind, her Meanie side squished into a heart-shaped frame. She freezes. Then she flips the pages again. Faster. Slower. Backward. She eventually whispers: “I look like someone’s safe place in here.”

☆ After that, ENA starts posing. Not directly. That would be weird. And vulnerable. So instead, she just happens to linger in dramatic stances longer than necessary. Flinging her arms toward the sky like a puppet cut loose. Curling on a desk with a fake frown. Standing by the megaphone with her head tilted at exactly 37 degrees. “My right angle is better for composition, by the way,” she mutters, fake-casual. “Stop telling them that,” Meanie snaps. “You look like an expired crayon.”

☆ You doodle her in the margins of receipts. On the back of pamphlets. In the corner of forms she begged you to fill out (“Sign here to legally acknowledge the weight of our friendship.”) ENA doesn’t get mad. Not really. She just starts leaving blank forms around on purpose. Sticky notes with “FOR DRAWING PURPOSES” scribbled in all-caps. One day she hands you an envelope. It’s empty except for a note inside that says: “Put more of me inside, please. Thank you for your service to the brand.”

☆ She watches you draw one day. Quietly. Which is rare for her. You’re sitting against a wall by the noise garden, sketchbook on your knees, tongue poking out a little from concentration. ENA crouches beside you and doesn’t say anything for a whole minute. Then five. At the six-minute mark, she finally mumbles: “You only draw the good parts.” Her voice is all Meanie. Soft. Sincere. And she won’t look at you when she says it.

☆ She starts giving you feedback. “Bigger shoulders—make me more powerful! Like a tank top model with clawed ambition!” “YOU MISSED THE HAT. DRAW THE HAT OR SO HELP ME I’LL SUE.” “You made me look too nice in this one. I look like I forgive people.” Despite the commentary, she keeps them. Every doodle you give her—ripped-out pages, napkin sketches, whatever—gets tucked neatly into a growing portfolio. You caught her one night whispering to it like a bedtime story.

☆ You try to draw her when she’s upset. Not meltdown upset—just quiet. Twitchy. Detached. Her mouth stuck in a not-smile. You sketch the tension in her shoulders, the downward tilt of her hat. You don’t show her those pages. But she finds them. Of course she does. “Is this how I look when I’m breaking in half? …Accurate.” She tilts the sketch. “But you drew me like I’m still loved, even then.” She doesn’t tear it up. She folds it gently and puts it in her cap.

☆ One day, she draws you. Sort of. It’s lopsided. Chaotic. The head is too big and the hands are just rectangles. But she gives it to you proudly, declaring: “This is YOU. You’re holding a flower and a sword and a bottle of ink and also a stress ball shaped like my face.” “You look pathetic,” Meanie mutters. “Pathetically important.”

☆ She asks you what each doodle means. You explain: That one was when she made you laugh so hard you choked. That one was when she got you out of the shadow hallway. That one was after she called you “a limited-time offer worth investing in.” ENA stares at you for a long time. Then says, “So I’m…a record? A message? A monument?” You blink. “You’re a muse.” She grins. “I’m also a tax deduction.”

☆ Eventually, she lets you draw her on her. You get a marker. A red one. She offers her arm with theatrical flair. “Brand me. Immortalize my essence. Turn me into a living portfolio!” You doodle a little heart on her clawed hand. Just one. Meanie stares at it, blinking fast. “…Dumb,” she mumbles, voice like cracked glass. Then quietly adds: “…Draw another one.”

learning that 4x is actually canon threw me for a loop but i love it

i don't have internet for the foreseeable future so idk how often i will be able to post art </3 getting this image to post took over half an hour in itself