#Out of Town on a Case

[bacchuschucklefuck]

typical tavern scene

[galacticlamps]

if i was edwin payne and a giant inter-dimensional ghost-eating mushroom was about to consume me and my bff of 30+ years on the same day i went out of my way to dress up nice because i literally just figured out i was deeply and completely in love with him and despite my 100+ years of edwardian-era repression i already decided i needed to share this information with him as soon as possible because we are indeed that close, and said best friend/love of my life decided to take his hand off the branch/root thing we were clinging to trying not to get swallowed just so he could put his hand over mine for comfort in what even the evil witch attempting to obliterate us felt the need to comment on for being a sweet final moment, i would simply pass away. again.

[twitchyglitchy]

What do I have to do to get out of here? Who do I have to beg on my knees to so I can leave?

Get me out of my house

P@yPal: twitchyjayson

Current Goal: $55/$800

[demonkinguwu]

Skully J. Graves

The Pumpkin Prince

Future King of all Halloween 🎃

[completeoveranalysis]

[10]

Ohhh. Now that is striking. This frame in particular.

You could read as many metaphors as you like into how this matches the general Watanuki narrative here - Watanuki mirrored against a distorted image of himself. Is that his past self? Or Lava Lamp? Or the hole in the universe he's causing? His grief? The general weight of his existence? The influence he has on other people's lives? They all work well, especially with one Mokona being black and one being white.

But also (Bad Apple plays softly in the distance)

OH HELP, THAT IS TOO MUCH. 

I AM OVERCOME WITH EMOTION. 

It doesn’t even matter which Sakura is his mother, honestly it’s such a Sakura move. For his new name to be a literal promise that they will see him again. 

So, that way, his an existence proof of their promise. Every moment ‘Kimihiro Watanuki’ exists that means their promise lives on. And every time someone says his name, it’s like their words are reaching him all over again.

OH HELP THAT’S TOO MUCH. 

And that’s such a cute way to round it off! Watanuki hears Lava Lamp’s voice echo through the universe, making him promise not to vanish. And this time Watanuki can accept it honestly, because he’s already decided to do the same - for the people around him and for Lava Lamp.

[grimalditeuthis]

oh the tragedy of a podcast character with a daughter..............

[queerliblib]

Queer books?? fuck yeah. Indigenous Queer books for Indigenous Heritage Month??!? even better.

[nelkcats]

Lover Fight (Or Not)

Danny didn't know why he was in Gotham. Honestly, Clockwork just pointed him the way to see something "interesting" that would help him to "calm down", so he had no further clues as to what was going to happen next.

He continued to fly over the city without a care, until he saw one of his biggest nightmares walking. A fucking clown. The halfa scrunched up his face before realizing that the clown had a weapon? What the fuck Clockwork? Incredulous, Danny continued to follow the clown.

A man in a red helmet and a woman with a large hammer seemed to be waiting for him in the middle of the street. The halfa raised an eyebrow doubtfully, before he could wonder what was happening, the woman tried to smash the clown with the hammer saying that her "darling" had betrayed her. Maybe it was a lovers' quarrel?

Still curious, Danny approached the man in the red helmet and after becoming visible he asked him if he was dating the clown too. The man had an extreme reaction and yelled something similar to "What the fuck? He killed me!"

That didn't answer Danny's question, of course, both his parents and most of his ex's had wanted to kill him. But maybe his scale was just broken. He asked the boy in the red helmet if he needed help.

Jason, still confused by the situation, agreed. A few seconds later (after Harley managed to hit him with her hammer, apparently) the Joker had turned into a block of ice. Jason stared in disbelief at the boy next to him, who had a mischievous smile on his face.

Danny really hated clowns.

[a-timely-problem]

Overheard at the BAU

JJ, giving a press conference: "On a sidenote, to the person that decided to drive past my house and honk at 3 am, fuck you!"

Hotch, trying to do damage control: "She doesn't mean that!"

Emily, stepping up: "Seriously, whatever our unsub did, your fate will be much worse!"

Emily, grumpy: "waking us up at 3. Who raised you?"

Hotch, looking at the reporters: "She means that... so good luck."

[luckyarchivist]

Don’t be afraid, give us more of your Ais/Ocudeus thought crumbs

You mean, like...the spicy thought crumbs? Well, if you insist...

Ais/Ocudeus Sexytoxic HCs

Have been doing some research on The Tumblr and have seen people imply that Ocudeus can actually have full control of Ais's body? Which I guess I should've realized, but now that I have... Oh, the implications.

How many times has Ocudeus hijacked Ais's body when he was in bed with someone else, the odd pupils of his eyes hidden by the darkness?

It definitely taunts Ais, when he has sex with other people. Ocudeus is the awful, intrusive voice in his head that tells him that the person on top of him is totally unaware, lost in pleasure — it would be so easy, and so good, to kill them in this moment.

I think Ais knows from experience how dangerous and cruel Ocudeus can be. He himself has been hurt by it, physically and emotionally — has had those tentacles around his wrists, around his neck. But he's learned to live with its rules, and to play nice with his bodymate.

But when it takes him over and squeezes hips hard enough to bruise, bites until the person underneath its mouth cries out, Ais remembers why he can't get truly close to anyone, especially anyone without their own defenses.

Ocudeus wonders: Would Ais prefer that it just subsume his partners into the groupmind? It's not above dragging people in just to placate its host.

(Ocudeus knows Ais's preference is for conflict with his friends and lovers, but clearly that's an inferior way to live. It just has to convince him that total subservience is best through example! Besides, if Ocudeus rules all minds, there will be no one around to distract, to stop it from consuming every facet of Ais's body and mind, and every corner of his life.)

When they're alone, Ocudeus will take control of Ais's body just to run his hands across it, enjoying the feel of its host's skin under its stolen palms. In Ais's head, Ocudeus is more cut-off from the world, but when it inhabits his body, every sensation is clear and present.

It knows where Ais is most sensitive (because of course it does, knowing this information about its host is absolutely vital) and spends its time leisurely working him up with his own hands, indulgently pleased at the way that Ais fights for control of his own body from within his mind. And right when Ais's body is at its limit, Ocudeus retreats and leaves its host wanting.

Has Ais ever been desperate enough to finish what Ocudeus started, or worse, ask Ocudeus for help? I don't think so, but Ocudeus is very patient. It can wait. It's waited this long.

Of course, sometimes Ocudeus wants its contact with its host to be more...tangible. At night, its tentacles crawl across his skin. It wants to explore him, to please him, maybe to win him over, even as it demands his mental and physical submission.

I do think the tattoo is like a brand — less Ocudeus's actual body, and more a symbol of its presence in Ais's. The black ink squirms and wriggles across Ais's shoulder as Ocudeus's large tentacles caress Ais's skin, creeping under clothing, lavishing something like love onto each centimeter of skin when its host is most vulnerable.

Ocudeus is a terrifying, awe-inspiring being, one that could rend unending torment on any person it chose. It is cruel, and jealous. It demands, and deserves, complete obedience. But its host deserves to be worshipped, too. When he's being cooperative.

[panaceatthedisco]

It's been over a month and I'm still wondering where the boys go/what they do at night

[shih-coulda-had-it]

totally reasonable development to the American Dream plan, don't even sweat it

(and the 24+ sentences i owe to the pollers)

Toshinori bounces on his heels, feeling lighter than air with the anticipation of tonight’s activities buzzing along his nerves. He’s dressed in a dark hooded sweatshirt, denim jeans, and the sneakers Gran Torino had bought specifically for their high-quality rubber soles.

And speaking of, Gran Torino should be up on the roofs somewhere…

The front door to the Midoriya apartment opens, and Izuku slips out after a hasty farewell to his mother, which is paired with a lackluster promise to stay safe. Toshinori manages a single jaunty wave before Izuku shuts it, and then his attention is turned to give Izuku’s outfit a critical once-over.

“You don’t have any other shoes?” Toshinori asks, contemplating the red hue of his successor’s sneakers. The rest of the clothes are appropriately sturdy and dark in palette.

“No? Sorry…”

“Eh, it should be fine. There shouldn’t be a lot of traffic up top anyway. Come on, let’s move!”

They make their way to the stairs, but to Izuku’s obvious confusion, Toshinori leads them further up.

“Yagi-san, you said that this was going to be a special Basic Physical Fitness Training session,” the kid says. “Can I ask… who thought of it? You, or Gran Torino?”

“Oh, this is totally my idea,” says Toshinori breezily. “I know the beach clean-up is the ultimate goal, and it’ll stay as your focus before high school, but I realized today that there are some experiences that you just can’t replicate as a holder of One for All! Experiences that even our Quirkless bodies can manage!”

They head higher. Izuku gets more nervous, but gamely follows Toshinori up the fire safety ladder.

On the roof, Gran Torino greets them with a curt, “Boys. This is the stupidest thing I can imagine for you two to do, in the stupidest place possible.” He’s sitting on the ledge, and as Toshinori requested, two lengths of steel pipes are leaned up next to him.

“Musutafu’s perfectly safe,” Toshinori counters. “And with you here, Gran Torino, there’s minimal risk of, well...”

“Falling to your deaths?”

Izuku squeaks. He quivers beside Toshinori, and when Toshinori glances down, Izuku is staring at the pipes, aghast. “What are we doing, Yagi-san?”

“We,” Toshinori says with great dignity, “are training in the great art of parkour. The pipes are insurance for safety, supposing we see real trouble that a pro-hero won’t get to in time.”

“Legally speaking, vigilantism,” Gran Torino interrupts.

“But we’re not going to get caught.”

“Which makes you juvenile delinquents.”

“Gran Torino,” Toshinori complains, feeling delightfully young and unburdened now that he’s gotten accustomed to Torino’s incredible, mellowed-out approach to training Izuku. What trauma? What spars? Toshinori at fifteen didn’t know anything about that, and Gran Torino at his current age looked nothing like the pro-hero who haunted the end of his high school career!

“I’m enabling you, aren’t I?” the old man shoots back. “Don’t I get to express my own opinions?”

“Is it really safe, though?” Izuku asks.

“Of course!” Toshinori picks up a pipe, hefts it, and tosses it over to Izuku, who catches it while wearing a thoroughly beleaguered expression. Then he grabs the other. “Listen, Midoriya-kun. If it’s really going to be a year until you get One for All, then the American Dream plan can afford to be a little flexible! You want to be a U.A. student, right?!”

“R-right!”

“Then we can’t just train your body!” he cries, lifting the pipe like a torch. “We’ve gotta train your willingness to get into a scrap!”

A little more wobbly, Izuku repeats, “R-right!” And because his successor is more polite, Izuku turns to Gran Torino and executes a little bow, adding, “Thank you for letting us do this, Gran Torino! And for keeping an eye on us!”

Torino sighs.

[gingermintpepper]

Hello! I want to know... Besides Hyacinthus, who is your fav Apollo's lover (male or female)? I really love Cyrene 🤭

Oho, thank you so much for the ask!

There are a couple candidates that immediately come to mind tbh. I'm not the sort that has a strict OTP sense when it comes to Apollo because I imagine there's importance in each of the affairs of the gods that are written about - there must be some reason that we remember their names and stories even now, y'know?

Ultimately, I have a brief selection of the lovers of Apollo whose stories I have personal and vested interest in with no particular preference except maybe for Evadne who, if I were forced to give only one additional favourite besides Hyacinthus, I would probably say it's her.

As for why I prefer Evadne over all the great and powerful romances Apollo has had; maybe it's just because I'm a sucker for the ooey-gooey romances but there's something so sweet about Evadne and Apollo's relationship and the consequent relationship Apollo has with Iamus, his and Evadne's son. I also love the subtle politics of such a relationship - from Evadne's side, yes she's a princess but more importantly, she's one of Poseidon's inhuman daughters - a child between Poseidon and a nymph - and the child between her and Apollo - a son of Zeus - goes on to become the father of a long line of famous prophets for the King of the Gods himself. That makes Iamus one of those rare children of a major god who is not divine but certainly not human either, something that is further exacerbated by the fact that for the first five days of his life, Iamus is cared for by his father who ensures that the baby is fed not milk but honey from the fangs of a snake.

All in all, it's not a very remarkable story in the grand scheme of things. There's no big drama like with Admetus and there's no great tragedy like with Coronis or Melia. Apollo doesn't act particularly noteworthy in either Pindar or Hyginus' account of the tale like he does for Cyrene or Branchus and the end result is a line of prophets sacred to Zeus and the Olympia oracle - a classic example of Apollo in his role as father to the great prophets and wisemen and yet something about the gentleness of Apollo in his affair with Evadne has always captivated me.

Evadne, who so feared her father that she would abandon her newborn child just to spare herself his anger, was able to trust and love Apollo. Likewise, Apollo did not once abandon her, sending the most blessed of attendants to help in her birthing and automatically stepping in to make sure Iamus was fed, clothed and warm until his mother returned for him. It's something about a young Iamus going into the River Alpheus - an ancient stream - and calling out for his purpose from his father and grandfather. It's something about Apollo's immediate and calm response and the way he leads the youth to the temple that will be his destiny and personally educates him in the ways of divination.

It's just one of those stories that always sticks out to me for the portrait of a father and lover it sketches of Apollo, even in a seemingly innocuous myth such as this one.

[gojoest]

it’s election day in my country tomorrow and i am back in my hometown to vote bc shits been going down esp here and i have not seen this kind of repression ever in my life i’ve only heard of it from my parents when they were young what the hell is wrong with the entire world nowadays

[diathadevil]

Do you ever think about how Fakir, after him and Ahiru finally broke everything that kept the town of Goldkr��ne in the ghostly hands of its writer, after they finally have some air of peace over the town finally being able to live in its intended early 2000s environment, that Fakir still feels at times like it's not real and that for a while he fears that if he closes his eyes it'll be back in Drosselmeyer's control. Like it just doesn't feel real to him during that first year of calm, until he feels the dull pain on his recovering hand injury and Ahiru who follows him without a pendant anywhere to be found.

He doesn't feel it's real, the calm finality of this town, but he makes sure to feel the scar on his hand. And he makes sure to hold the little duck and realize that she is who she has always been. Him and the town are finally living peacefully.

[writingwife-83]

Have a romantic little Sunday ficlet. Cuz I just felt like it. 🥰

Negotiations

“A month.”

“No, Sherlock, a week at most. The case is already solved so we don’t have that as an excuse.”

“Three weeks. You’ve got holiday time saved, and what better time to use it? And besides, nobody in London has to know the case is solved yet.”

Molly paused. “Maybe I could push it to ten days, but not longer. Don’t forget, I only packed for a long weekend. I didn’t plan for… everything it turned into!”

Sherlock pushed himself up onto his elbow, gazing down at her with darkened eyes. “I promise, you have the perfect amount of clothing with you, even for a month.”

Molly glanced down with a smirk at the rest of her body, haphazardly covered with a luxurious bed sheet. “Not all of us want to wear this out and about.”

“Who said anything about going out?” Sherlock murmured, leaning over to cover her body with his and capture her lips. Molly’s fingers were soon buried in his hair, curling into fists.

“I suppose…” she panted softly when his mouth had released hers. “I could manage two weeks.”

“I’ll phone the front desk…” He pressed a kiss to her jawline. “In a half hour or so…” Another kiss to the side of her neck. “And I’ll tell them three weeks. Just in case.”

“You do know we’ll have to- mm- tell everyone when we get home,” Molly whispered.

“Exactly. So, if you don’t mind,” Sherlock practically growled. “I’d like to keep my new wife to myself for as long as possible.”