#『memes』sending interesting things.

[playfulkitsune]

『ooc』speaks the tired human. 『hc.』Follow me to the end of the dream! 『sp.』a shy、bouncy、curious kitsune. 『p.』you’re stuck with me、welcome to my world. 『memes』sending interesting things. 『music』it reaches hearts across the world. 『musings』the moon is softer than the sun.

[velvetwyrme]

the struggle. of wanting to share ideas about something but also knowing that in order to share odras about something. people have to be Interested and for people to be interested. you have to post about it. and make stuff. i just want to beam it out into the world.......

[pauls1967moustache]

Requesting a perspective flip on shotgunning if you should feel so inclined

two for a shotgunning perspective flip, so I'm starting with that one. here yous go x

“I saw these girls, once. They were doing it like that. But they were doing it together, you see,” Paul says, nodding to him, his mouth curved up in some abstract sort of mirth. He gets like that when he has something to tell John that he knows John’s going to like—all coy and playful.

John finds himself mirroring Paul, smiling even though he doesn’t know what’s funny yet. "What are you on about?"

Paul giggles, his eyes closing and his nose scrunching. John feels affection bloom warmly in his chest, watching him. Paul’s well and truly baked. John loves seeing him like this. Paul’s usually so full of energy—always thinking, always talking, always jumping and climbing over shit like a child on too much sugar. Seeing him languid and dopey like this feels a bit like catching a girl in her negligee. Same thrill, anyroad.

John’s so caught up in it, he’s wholly unprepared for Paul literally pouring himself half on top of him, out of nowhere. The warmth that was floating easy and calm in John’s chest fizzles suddenly, sparking in his fingertips. He doesn’t have enough time for his brain to catch up, his hands chasing the closest bits of Paul he can reach, on reflex—the solid weight of him, drooping over John like a lazy cat. Paul laughs at the touch—his breath making the hair of John’s fringe tickle a bit—but he doesn’t pull away like he normally would, Northern man and all that. He leans into it, even.

Paul plucks the joint from John’s hand between two fingers, and then his eyes meet John, steadier than John would’ve imagine in his current state.

“Like this,” Paul murmurs. John watches, rapt, as Paul’s cheeks hollow around the inhale.

And then, like he slithered his way out of John’s deepest held fantasies, Paul fucking leans down and hovers over John’s mouth.

John’s heart stutters. For a moment he feels himself go cold—he’s misread something, he’s hallucinating, Paul’s taking the piss out of him. He can’t make sense of what the hell is happening. He feels a light touch against his chin—fucking Paul—and his mouth opens involuntarily because he’s wanted this so much, for so long, that his body’s not prepared to do anything else. But Paul only breathes the smoke into John’s mouth, floating inches from John’s lips like some sort of wet dream apparition.

It settles John and it doesn’t. John breathes it in, sighing out the tension in his body as he does. Only, his heart’s caught up in it now—still running. It makes him dizzy for a moment, taking Paul into his lungs like that. It feels natural in an unnatural way, like some part of him’s always been breathing the same breath as Paul, and he’s just now noticed.

Paul’s free hand, sitting flat on John’s chest, closes a loose grip on John’s shirt. John taps a finger to the back of Paul’s fist, needing the physical reminder of Paul there when everything else about this feels so unearthly.

Paul pulls up, still half-smiling to himself, satisfied. His eyes blink open slowly to look at John, assessing—or as assessing as he can manage with his pot-soaked lazy stare.

John takes a breath of non-Paul air, unable to think of anything clever to say.

“Did it work?” Paul asks.

John blinks. He feels frazzled. His throat feels dry, and his heart is going, and going, and going, but Paul’s smiling down at him, fond and oblivious, and all John knows is that he’ll tear his own hair out if they never try that again.

“Do you want a go?”

“Is it good?” Paul asks.

John laughs, the tension leaking out of him with the baffled blast of it.

Is it good, he says, like he couldn’t drive a man to madness with one heedless blink of his absurd fucking lashes. Is it good?

“Yeah, it’s good,” John sys, his voice coming out embarrassingly fond, but christ, what’s he meant to do?

He moves to take the joint back, but he finds he can’t quite let himself lose contact with Paul, making his hand slide up Paul’s forearm, over his warm skin and the dark hair there. He could hold Paul’s hand for a second and Paul would probably let him, stoned as he is.

The thought leaves him giddy, his heart already gearing up as he inhales. Paul’s watching him with his big, friendly eyes, unaware of any of it. John wonders—as Paul leans down to take the air out of his lungs—if Paul’s high enough to let John live inside him, if John dissolved completely and followed his own breath in there.

But he stays material. He listens to Paul’s slow intake of breath; the silent beat as Paul holds it. And then—Paul falters. He feels Paul’s fingers grasping his jaw, awkward and off balance. Paul’s lips brush his, the faintest of touches, not even a kiss, really—if Paul pulled away. Only he doesn’t. He lingers; uses his grip on John’s jaw to angle him, and presses in. Kisses him. Kisses John.

John half laughs to himself—and there goes that breath, too, straight into Paul’s mouth. And it’s not like before, with the uncertainty of Paul hovering. The ambiguous in-between of it all is gone. Paul’s solid against him. The wet press of his tongue is real. The heat radiating from his body to John’s is real. John holds onto the back of Paul’s head, and pushes his tongue into Paul’s mouth, and tastes something tangible instead of the ghost of a breath, and John thinks perhaps this is better than being inside him, because, here, he can feel Paul want it, too.

Where Paul had been lethargic before, he turns suddenly frantic, his hands roaming over John like he can’t figure out which part of John to hold—like he has no idea what he’s doing, and is simply doing it—leaving a hot imprint of his touch in his wake. John tries to make him settle, kissing Paul deeper, and pushing his thigh between Paul’s legs—giving Paul something to anchor himself too. He hears a faint whimper ease out from the back of Paul’s throat. He feels Paul, hard against him—fuck.

It makes John dizzier than any high—so good he almost loses himself to the sensations, but he doesn’t. He can’t. It feels good, but Paul’s erratic. Paul’s hips grind into John’s thigh, his breath stuttering out of him somewhere between a gasp and a moan, unfocused in his desire like he’s a little lost. John tries his best to hold onto Paul, as if Paul might overheat and explode in John’s arms, disappearing before they even get anywhere.

Paul pulls away from him, suddenly gasping for air, and burying his face in John’s chest—leaving John face to face with Martha, sniffing the back of Paul’s head, idly. John sighs out for a moment, hot and overwhelmed, and frustrated. On top of him, Paul has gone very still. Martha gets bored with him, and starts sniffing around John’s face. John twitches away from her on instinct, just as Paul decides to flee, apparently, rolling himself abruptly away from him, with none of the ease with which he rolled on top of him.

“Macca?” John asks.

“Sorry,” Paul says, not looking at him. “I don’t know what that was.” His voice is even, and soft, but in that nervy way of his. Like he gets when he has stage fright and doesn’t want to say it.

Maybe it’s the weed, or maybe it’s that the most exceptional miracle John could’ve conceived of just happened to him, or maybe it’s the fact that Paul clearly doesn’t—but John feels calm. Paul teasing him, or being too thick to realise John’s obsessed with him is one thing, but Paul’s lying there cracked open like it caught him by surprise the same way it caught John, and all John feels is a fluttering swoops in his chest—this gentle, protective thing that he always forgets he has in him.

Martha’s still sniffing about somewhere in the vicinity of John’s shoulder. John gives her a loving pat on her head. She chases it, trying to sniff the underside of his wrist, and he uses the movement to grab a hold of her collar, hidden under her clumps of hair Paul’s never bothered to trim for her, the lazy get. He guides her out of the dome, lets her trot out into the sunny garden. shutting the door resolutely behind her.

When he turns, Paul’s still lying flat on the rug, lost in his own head; his eyes shut tight like he’s trying to block out the light. John thinks of Paul looking down at him, smiling all attentive, and sweet, and giddy. It was so easy in the end. All that torturous fantasising John’s done, all these years, and in reality it took nothing at all. It takes nothing at all; just letting it happen. Just letting themselves breathe the same air for a minute.

John picks the miraculously still burning joint off the floor. He lowers himself down next to Paul again, and rolls into him like Paul did earlier, waiting for Paul to crawl out of his head, back into the real world. Paul sighs and opens his eyes, blinking for a moment as he adjusts to the light. And then, looking up at John—small and unsure—with his big, sad, boy eyes like when he flubbed that first solo.

John holds his gaze as he inhales.

He used to think it was a good thing, that Paul thought he’d excommunicate him over such a flimsy transgression. That he could make Paul—eternally and infuriatingly self-assured, as he was—doubt himself. Maybe they were both a bit thick about each other. In any case, they certainly don’t need to be anymore. Seems a bit silly to play games with friends willing to stick their tongue in your mouth.

John ashes the joint on Paul’s obnoxious, antique rug.

“ ‘s alright, love,” he promises. “It's only me.”

He leans down, and gives Paul a breath of relief.

[privatelife]

y'all who actually have partners,, what is a text ice breaker to start conversation? im really bad at it 😭

it feels important to note that when we do talk, the conversation flows great we have a nice rapport and complimentary senses of humors it's just starting the conversation that is the problem i think we are both just painfully shy 😔 (and maybe traumatized .)

[nadekosnake]

neglected manuscript - Do you have a favorite novel?

from this ancient ask meme

LMAO NO!!! PICKING THE ONE I WAS AFRAID OF 💀 I could make it easy and lie but y’know what? We’re gonna be honest about this 🫡 Gonna be LONG bc I have 1) not talked with about this in any capacity with another human being before and 2) a pretty complicated relationship with this book 🤕

Content warning for CSA 👇

This is difficult partly bc I do love a lot of books but partly bc I don’t like to reveal my actual favorite book… I genuinely worry people will perceive me in a very negative way LMAO. My favorite of all time is Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov 😶 It’s the book I’ve reread the most in my life so far and it is genuinely one of the best written books I have read 🤧 I think generally people are like 😰🤢 when you drop a bomb like that what’s typically supposed to be a light-hearted convo so I usually will say something else! Typically my safe answer is The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (which genuinely was my favorite book at some point in time, we are not going to dive into this right now).

(A disclaimer as I talked about Lolita fashion before, I am aware that the fashion gets its name from the novel but that’s where the relation ends. I like Lolita fashion because I’m a loser that likes subculture fashion and not because it has the same name or any other connection to the book. That happens to be coincidental. I am staunchly against fetishization of the fashion ok thanks! 🙂‍↕️ back to the program!)

Brief summary for those who need it: Humbert (the narrator) is a scholar and a secret pedophile, who one day meets the Haze family for a home stay. He obsesses over the daughter, a 12 year-old girl named Dolores Haze, who he personally calls Lolita. Humbert marries Ms. Haze to be around the real object of his obsession. Through unfortunate events, he ends up Dolores’s sole caretaker. She lives with Humbert’s constant sexual abuse that spans a cross-country roadtrip, but eventually she runs away with the help of another pedophile. Unfortunately it is not a happy ending. Despite Dolores’s escape from both pedophiles, she dies before she can rebuild a normal life with her future family.

The first time I tried to read it, I was too young (around Dolores’s own age 🫥). It was recommended to me by another middle school girl! God knows what the fuck we were doing back then LMAO but the girl who recommended it to me said it was a love story. Older man girl our age whatever. Tbh when I started it I understood that it wasn’t a love story… and I couldn’t finish it because of how uncomfortable it made me. I reread it a handful of times between middle school and uni with varying degrees of success, and I only really started to grasp it when I reached uni. I do think I was entirely too young to read the book or even understand it, and thankfully it was not used as a tool to manipulate me. It was a dicey time tbh. When I was growing up, there weren’t communities of young women that centered around accepting Dolores Haze as a victim.

I think there’s a disclaimer for those you haven’t read it and think it glorifies CSA and pedophilia. It really does not. Nabokov himself was a victim of CSA and did not condone it. I think that the #1 thing that movie adaptations and pop culture struggle with is that people believe the narrator point blank. So the adaptations all have this horrible romanticization of the story at their cores. People even struggle with understanding the book because the narrator is an Educated & Scholarly Man who is like ✨I’m a poet I’m a sensitive soul and we poets just believe in love✨ like NO!!! The whole point of the story is that he is an unreliable narrator!!! The narrator is a murderer, rapist, kidnapper, and if you’re actually paying attention you see it all with your own damn eyes! And of course nobody really does pay attention! 😭

So like, why is this my favorite? This is also complicated LOL, but I think that there’s a couple of main reasons.

Ultimately, to me, the novel is a puzzle that Nabokov invites you to solve. You have an unreliable narrator, but he’s an excellent manipulator. I think a lot of people lose “the game,” so to speak, the first time they read the book because the narrator is so good at making you see only what he wants you to see (he loves her, he’s just a nice sensitive guy who lost his first love too early, he’s doesn’t mean to hurt “his” “Lolita,” she “seduced” him, she “makes” him do horrible things to her, etc). It is written so well, and since the character himself is a professor and an intellectual, I think it’s easier for folks to let their guard down and to literally be tricked. Genuinely speaking I struggled with what to believe too, especially as a child. The only reason I didn’t buy into the “love story” bit was because by some intuition, I was aware that something Bad was happening despite the narrator’s insistence that it was all good. Tho I could not pinpoint what it was at the time.

But once you break past the facade and you’re fully paying attention the novel, it is like two stories in one. One hand, poets romantics in the name of love blah blah blah, but on the other hand? Dolores is a girl from a broken home, who’s mother is murdered by a man that wants to rape her. She’s kidnapped and shows clear signs of abuse (triggered by paternal affection, cried herself to sleep every night since the abuse started, bouts of disassociation, extreme rebellion towards Humbert, etc). Some of this stuff is actually glossed over by the narrator, but signs of a whole other part of the story are literally right in front of you if you’re paying attention.

For example, there’s a single line about Dolores’s mother, Charlotte, where she reveals in a letter to Humber that both her first husband and her youngest child (Dolores’s baby brother) died. And the narrator does NOT give a rat’s ass about this woman or her woes so it’s never talked about again. It’s whittled down to one single dismissive sentence, and I missed it tons of times. But knowing that, it makes sense why Charlotte acts as she does, why Charlotte and Dolores’s relationship is fraught. And why Dolores acts as she does at the beginning of the novel. Literally the Haze family is going through extreme grief with barely the emotional resources to process a double death in their immediate family. Without that context though, you’re just going along with whatever Humbert wants you to believe. You don’t see who Charlotte or Dolores are as individuals. You miss a chunk of the truth. And that’s literally just one of the smallest instances I can think of. There’s so much to dig through both directly and in between the lines. Nabokov is so deliberate with his writing and so extremely detailed that there’s a LOT of things that are easily missed unless you read it multiple times. This shit is so detailed, there’s scholars dedicated both to Nabokov and to Lolita the novel.

I think the last big reason I keep coming back to it is because I think it’s something so deeply rooted in society, you never really live without Lolita. The book has been bastardized to hell and back because most people, especially those in power once again, Do Not Understand how to read this book. So we’re left with not necessarily Dolores Haze, but this enigmatic “Lolita” the abstract figure of Humbert’s delusions. She is so influential, we all live our lives with her whether or not we’re aware of it. Coquette aesthetic? Lolita. Lana Del Rey? Katy Perry? The Police? Lolita. Marc Jacobs? Carven? Lolita. Vladimir? Excavation? My Dark Vanessa? Lolita. Heart-shaped sunglasses? Lolita. Butterflies??? Yes, Lolita. You can even go so wild with the connections to the point of bringing up the goddamn Lion King (animated 1994 version, Scar is voiced by Jeremy Irons who played Humbert Humbert in Adrian Lyne’s 1997 adaptation).

And it’s this constant reminder, every day. You pass by her on the Internet or in an ad while you’re out and about. She lives in the shadow of your acquaintance or your loved one. She haunts everything in a very real and literal sense. I think that’s what keeps me coming back to the book… even if I wanted to forget about her, I don’t think I ever really could.

[umbral-dominant]

2, 7, 13

2. Has your muse been mainly attracted to masculinity, femininity, androgyny, or an even split (between two, many, or all of the options specified)?

Most of his attraction comes from the personality or engagement with a person, though in a purely physical sense those who he's had direct attraction too have varied greatly - most people however are often smaller than him both in height and musculature so he's had a penchant for that (Varied in form and identity); though people of his build have also haunted his thoughts from attraction.

7. Where is your muse most sensitive?

Beyond the obvious places that most people are, the scale-scarring is highly sensitive to touch (Feeling akin to oversmoothed snakeskin, or when primed arrowhead-scales) so that carries over to most of his right side, though beyond that would be his throat - direct as it is to sensation, and underused in talking - the collar often keeps him from wearing things that would cover it beyond higher collars so it's sensitive from that lacking touch.

13. What traits does your muse value in a romantic partner?

Respect of his comfort in silence, Fully-Capable in their own right without his help (but allowing him to show affection through assistance or action), and Understanding of 'why' he doesn't talk about certain things (at least right away, eventually in a relationship he would share very specific things he doesn't talk about.)

[solradguy]

There's this guy I did a really big commission for like 7 years ago that I didn't talk to much after the job wrapped up, as it goes with commissions generally, but for some reason in the last month or so he's started messaging me horny memes and videos about those sex robots from Atomic Heart. I asked him if he needed to, like, vent about something and he said he was fine and then just sent more memes the next day like... ok. I've never had a positive reaction to any of these memes but alright, man

[chibishortdeath]

So I was playing Simon’s Quest (again) earlier and you guys might know by now that I’m incredibly normal (extremely deranged) about that game, but it’s got me thinking about something: what exactly are the hearts and why are they the money in this game?

Hearts in the first game and almost every game after Simon’s Quest are the thing that you need to collect to be able to use subweapons and they primarily come from candles, but enemies can drop them too. But in Simon’s Quest, while they do still power a couple subweapons, it’s only the ones we’ve never seen before like the Sacred Flame and Golden Knife while not being used for the Holy Water, something that does in every other game. And they only come from enemies because there’s no candles. And there’s different sizes of them. And collecting enough of them levels Simon up. And their primary function is completely shifted to currency!!! Odd, isn’t it?

And the whole way that you buy anything in this game is really framed like some black market sketchy deal. These sellers (or crooked traders with bum deals lol) are primarily holed away in their houses under one or two layers of walls and floors only breakable by magical infinite Holy Water, something only the local badass vampire hunter guy would have after having bought some with said hearts in the first town, or they’re way tucked away in the thick of these Dracula’s army overtaken mansions, some of them even standing directly where skeletons walk past them or in between relatively large pits of spikes. Whatever the reason, these guys obviously want this fairly secret. (Aside from the first town white crystal guy, he’s fine being out in the open lol.)

So what gives??? What is Simon grinding monsters for and trading with the locals for weapons and herbs???

Now this is where things get really ✨speculative✨. I’m gonna put the cut here for suspense and intrigue I guess lol XD. This is gonna be a lot of me thinking out loud and throwing down ideas, not really like a confirmed answer to anything, just havin fun thinkin about a part of a game d(•w• )

I think there’s a few possibilities. They could be the same thing that they are other games or they could be something different just used similarly as a power source.

But first we gotta break down what hearts could be in Cv1. In a lot of the games they seem to be some kind of a general mana, a magic energy possibly not unlike how metaphysical/magical things are depicted in other media. Perhaps the subweapons themselves are magic objects and not really a physical thing that require “hearts” to be conjured. Maybe they could be physical objects that need to be enchanted with “hearts” to be anywhere comparable to Vampire Killer level usefulness. Just a few possibilities.

If the hearts in Simon’s Quest are the same thing, then this kinda makes some sense. Simon trading monster soul energy or whatever with presumably magic users for things he needs on his Quest, especially since things like Laurels (also can be called bay laurels or bay leaves) are commonly used in spells and who better to be selling a spell component than someone who does spells! Also, it makes sense that these people would be fairly out of sight as magic use was still a touchy subject at the time.

Now I don’t know how accurate this is, and if I do find a source somewhere in my way too many bookmarks I will reblog this and link it to it, but I remember reading somewhere in an interview about either SotN or one of the games made close before it that the candles are like the souls of Dracula and his army’s victims that you free when you hit them and they leave you a little parting gift for it. Yes, these games were made way after, so it’s not certain if that was the original intent of these, but I figured it adds something to this.

But what if the hearts in Simon’s Quest are not the same thing? After all, the Holy Water doesn’t use them and we can’t say if they would or not work for other subweapons that appear in CV1 since they aren’t in this one. Well there’s something else that could be dropping from killing monsters that could also fit into the above probability that these traders are magic users and it’s a little darker!

Hearts! Bones! General viscera! And this also kinda makes sense! I mean the whole plot of the game revolves around Simon already carrying pieces of Dracula’s corpse around to burn all together on an altar to cure his and the surrounding area’s curse, it’s not that far of a stretch to say that he’d be fine with carrying around pieces of other monsters and that magic users might be willing to trade things for them so they can use them in their own spells, potions, and so on. And that might also explain why Holy Water isn’t powered by hearts and is incredibly weak in comparison in this game. And why these weird, new subweapons seem to be Simon exclusive! They could be powered by things like monster blood instead of the usual magic energy-ish stuff we’re used to hearts symbolizing.

Regardless of if I’m right or not with either of these, Simon is probably taking advantage of some underground monster essence/organs trade the whole game and this is just such an interesting batshit detail for him as a character.

Anyway, I love this game so much, I’m gonna be spreading propaganda for it like this a lot hopefully lol. Okie that’s it hope that was fun, do with this information what you will :)

[katadastical]

I’ve recently gotten closer to a group of girls in one of my classes and they’re super nice but I’ve been sat here trying to have a normal conversation where I don’t bring up Star Wars, my art acc or gaming and it’s HARD

Like oh yea I like this game rdr2 :)

Acting as if I like it a normal amount meanwhile in every conversation I’m suppressing the urge to talk about Arthur Dumbass Morgan and John Meow Meow Marston the fictional middle aged cowboys

Like oh yea I love Star Wars!

and then I become very aware of my Star Wars wallpaper or my silly little Obi-Wan Kenobi picture in the back of my phone or the fact that in the background of EVERY FaceTime is an A3 empire strikes back poster-

I love my interests but man oh man is my neurodivergent showing I’m probably known as the Star Wars/gaming girl of my year group 😭 😭

[starwonderz]

📱 for dirk ?

[ TO: TT ] > how much longer are you going to be in your room? i'm starting to get bored. (unsent)

[ TO: TT ] > sorry about coming home so late yesterday. i didnt even get to see you before going to bed! ill try to make it up to you. if i can get out early -- (unsent)

[ TO: TT ] > hey you seem preoccupied lately. has something been bothering you? you can talk to me if so! (unsent)

[ TO: TT ] > every time i walk to the prop room theres all these puppets hanging around on the shelves. youd probably have a field day with those. i should get you a picture one of these days. the fact im no longer perturbed by these things tho...ugh... (unsent)

[ TO: TT ] > ah btw i have no rehearsal tomorrow so if you would like to do anything please let me know! i'll admit i've missed hanging out with you -- (unsent)

[ TO: TT ] > JUST BC IM NOT HOME STRIDER DOESNT MEAN I DONT NOTICE THE SWORDS IN THE LINEN CLOSET THOSE BETTER BE OUT OF THERE WHEN I GET BACK (sent)

unsent messages / @boundlss

[gu6chan]

99% just my autism speaking here but something ive been noticing lately that im sorta kinda 😶 about is when ppl are like "I think you'll like this" but not bc they ACTUALLY think you'll like it, rather they just got into it and want you to also get into it so "I think you'll like this" is a nice personal hook. i love chill stuff as much as any other person ofc but given i don't divulge that EVER, what makes you think my berserk reading, made in abyss watching, drakengard playing ass would like YURU CAMP????

[rasafcrged]

@lncarnon / nekros sent a meme.

“They torture me, but still they fear me. Do you fear me?“

He was a fascinating construct. He seemed to be something akin to herself - a sentient ... mechanoid, or perhaps a form of adaptation, a melding of bionic and mechanical forms. A blending of species, but yet like nothing that she had ever seen before, and something that she could not readily analyze or identify. And that made him ... fascinating to her. She had no way of knowing what he could ascertain of her own making, what abilities and systems of analyses that he had access to and that made him ... potentially dangerous. But she had long since learned that her curiosity would outweigh a chance of harm in nearly all scenarios.

"Fear?" An easy smile graces the edges of her lips as she watches him, hands clasped loosely together at the small of her back, a light bounce of weight from heel, to toe, and back again as she settled. "No. I am not one that is given easily to fear, or hatred, or the violence that seems to go hand in hand." That brings a slight furrow of her brow, a pensive crease. "I do not desire to see you hurt, or constrained. I am sorry that they have resorted to such tactics. Is there anything that I can offer? Do you require food, or water, or nourishment of some kind?" She did not have the authority to free him, not in the innocuous position that she had obtained with those that currently held him, but she could try and make his time here more comfortable.

[mechahero]

@pzfr asked- 📺 + What's the use in spending time with other people? send 📺 + a question, and my muse's shadow will answer it!

"You know, if you asked the real me, he'd tell you that it's because 'being around people is nice!' or whatever." The shadow shakes his head, barely biting back the disgust rising in his throat. "I'll tell you how it is though. Because deep down, that sad sack is still so desperate to find someone, anyone who will like him enough to let him hang around."

"After all this time, he's still that little kid on the playground with no one to turn to. Sad, really."

[sickmachete]

do you ever just get hit with a wave of grief when you think about people you don’t talk to anymore? like i’m over my ex but every so often something will remind me of her and even though i’ve moved on it’ll be like a punch to the gut (sending this to you because i know you went through heartbreak a few months ago so hopefully you get it, sorry if this ask makes you uncomfortable !)

i think the thing that still gets me about it is that more than anything you end up losing a good friend. like just putting aside all the breakup drama BS for a second losing someone like that so abruptly when theyd been such a big part of your life for so long fuckin sucks and it really does take some time to get fully used to

so yeah i get it. we're in this together anon hand in lovable hand

[paralianprince]

@islandiis continued from here!

[sms]:  OH hold on

[sms]:  wow alright my offer to do all your chores for you mustve been like even weirder than i was worried it would sound, well done me

[sms]:  srry someone gave me your number ages & ages ago.  this is Sea, based just to the southwesterly of the lands of freezing ones ears off

[sms]:  anyway!!  hi !  i figured itd be a bit silly to go all that way without yknow askin first so i sort of got ahead of myself

[astrumocs]

HMMMM odarem and deliro in pale or red.. i cannot decide. but its a fun thought swirling in my brainnn

1) … rate the ship:

pls N O | not shipping it | nah | maybe | I WISH it’d work | yasss | I ship it | wOW PLEASE!

2) … tell you shortly about how I think they’d work (or why they wouldn’t) in that quad/general opinion

Okay, so I didn't know a whole lot about him other than remembering he was in the medical field, which naturally meant I scanned his profile semi-thoroughly..

Tbh there were a couple moments where I was like maaaaybe pale? but Oda respects other people's autonomy and stuff and the only way he'd go pale is if he could make Deliro a different, better person dshjfgadkg

Unfortunately, there are a few too many deal breakers for Oda to develop feelings here, the hemoloyal outlook and self-important attitude put him in a place where he starts to write someone off, And generally speaking, a serial killer is also a hard sell to someone with Oda's strong moral code yk? and the smell of too much death can make him feel a bit sick :pensive:

He can be cordial with other medical professionals tho, even if he doesn't like their methods, so it's possible they could chat! Oda's had a few nice enough conversations w/ Dami's Kizien, even tho that guy's vibes are rancid to him lol