#after it's on tumblr dot com i feel free

[stefisdoingthings]

silence

also this is from Wolfwood's POV (in case it isn't clear) i have 0 normal thoughts (every song ever is VW)

[gibbearish]

oh boy its my favorite day where nonusamericans condescendingly explain to me that the election effects other countries too and therefore i need to be even more terrified than however terrified i already am

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Haircut

Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.

Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)

A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers. 

“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair. 

“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.” 

“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.” 

“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.” 

“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?” 

“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek. 

“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand. 

“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.” 

“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion. 

“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip. 

Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth. 

“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.” 

Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.” 

“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair. 

“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised. 

“Do your worst, Peña.” 

That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds. 

While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life. 

The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more. 

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down. 

“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine. 

“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you. 

“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke. 

“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.” 

“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?” 

“M-me.” 

“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart. 

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him. 

At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice. 

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).” 

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.

After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face. 

“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him. 

“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.” 

The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you. 

“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.” 

“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.” 

taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[miodiodavinci]

anyway i'm still thinking about it because it was quite literally this

lads i have shocked and frightened the specialist and become a part of their medical experience

[unowneyenon]

edit: hi guys this is from 2023 😭😭there’s still some cool stuff on here but for the most part it is a smidge outdated! feel free to look through anyway though bc i’m not sure if this stuff is on the site anymore :]

‼️UPDATING THE WELCOME HOME UPDATE LIST AGAIN‼️

i feel like i cant keep UP just SOOOO MANY PEOPLE ARE FINDINF INFO EXTREMELY FAST so by using my personal update list and the findings of others, here’s the update list, updated for the second time!

🏡BEFORE WE JUMP IN, i’d wish to highlight some weird things i personally experienced throughout the site🏡

more than one have i heard a sound while using my headphones that sounded like faint morse code.

i feel like i’ve heard a static/white noise on the site before

after exploring the “secret” version of the site, i thought i heard a heartbeat

one more thing that’s probably important! the company who made welcome home’s merchandise—Marlo— has a logo that looks like this

hmmm totally not suspicious using wally’s colors inside of an eye inside of a home silhouette!!

the morse code i am POSITIVE about. enough of that, onto the records and bug videos!

🐛the BUGS🐛

thanks to @underscore-duendie (for searching for hours i salute u solder 🫡) and @angel-lyah ‘s VERY useful masterlist, we now have what seems like a complete collection of all the bugs!! here are all of them, in order (as screenshots tho because tumblr dot com won’t let me post all the urls)

this is @underscore-duendie ‘s post!

🏡audios!🏡

@angel-lyah ‘s list covered this VERY well, even putting all of them together in a message👏👏👏 all of these audios have wally speaking directly to us. not sure if there’s more, but here’s what was found! (this is a screenshot btw i use tumblr on my phone)

angel also put them all together stacked on top of each other! it creates a whole conversation between us and wally! go check it out!

ALSO ALSO @gandalfsbongwater informed me that if you click on the red button on the phone of the “it’s for you” toy (the merch page) it leads you to wally’s duet audio!

@angel-lyah graciously covered this hidden secret too—the safe!

I EXPLORED I DISCOVERED ITS REALLY WEIRD AND IT LOOKS LIKE THIS (really bad screenshot edition)

there’s nothing to click on except the “it’s in here” button. at least, not that i know of. here are the images found on the site! (side note uhh what are those things in the background of the white screen?? like, next to the pictures?)

THERE ARE MORE IMAGES BUT ONCE AGAIN TUMBLR DOT COM ONLY LETS ME UPLOAD A CERTAIN AMOUNT. I WILL REBLOG THIS WITH THE REST OF THE IMAGES.

[sgnarl]

sgnarl 2024 updated comm post

helllooo. i know i updated my commissions last in january, but ive honestly improved and done a lot of work this year, so i felt the comm post needed to be updated

before we get into the details....

as always, if you're ever curious about the progress on a commission, just ask for an update and i'll send you one.

character credits: @loveaankilaq / @anaelwings, @goldencamelias, @orcapologist, @bearliquids, @hobgobbin , @too-many-muses , @mightymessenger @odiletheswanqueen

i only accept payment upfront & i will not negotiate on paying after. payment info at the end of post

you can contact me right here on tumblr dot com, just DM me!

Full Body Character - 30$

Add character +10$

Add shading & lighting +10$

Price points for the background can be negotiated based on the level of detail required, or if they are a complete or partial background

Portrait - 30$

Portraits will always be rendered

They will always have a "decorated" background (simple shapes, colors, concepts, or designs)

Portraits will always be from the bust up

Full Canvas - 70$

The full canvas option can get a bit abstract. Basically, you just sit and talk with me about your character/s, their aesthetics, occupation, their lore, specific poses or concepts you want and then I go ham on the canvas

It will always include some level of shading and lighting & some level of background, whether it is a literal setting or a decorated/abstract background

The base price is 70$. However, if you'd like to add another character (as shown in the second example), it will be +10$, just as it is with the Full Body Character option.

If you're only curious and want to discuss this option, feel free to DM me, no strings attached

Concepts I Will Accept

✔️ - some robot/cyber/mech stuff (i really determine case-by-case), furry/anthro, non-humanoid creatures, fantasy, sci fi, OCs, weapons, blood, nudity/suggestive

✔️ - some fandoms I'm familiar with are D&D, Marvel & DC comics/movies, Assassin's Creed, Disco Elysium, ATLA, Metalocalypse, The Wolf Among Us. I'm capable of doing any fandom artwork with sufficient references & have done so in the past

Concepts I Won't Accept

❌ - hateful imagery, underage/abusive/incest ships, certain fandoms (Harry Potter, Voltron, Supernatural are among these), gore, and ofc I reserve the right to deny anything

paypal: thundahouse

NSFW comm post (minors DNI this link)

Further various examples below

Furry/Creature

Full Canvas

Full Body

^ non standing poses can count as full body commissions

[the-californicationist]

Cali’s Nameless Challenge

It’s my first challenge, y’all! In honor of finally hitting the 500k word mark on AO3, I bring you a game I’ve been imagining for a while. Hope you like it.

Here are the rules:

— Write a 500(ish) word fic about any COD character!

— You can never name the character in the fic!

— Everyone can guess who it is in the comments!

— Tag it with #cali’s nameless challenge and also please @ me so I can reblog it and add it to the...

Masterlist!

This is meant to be just a fun little writing game, so even if you’ve never written a fic before, feel free to join in! Can’t wait to read these stories about your mystery blorbos!! 🩷👀

Challenge closes July 16th (but like you can still submit after that if you want to! there's no rules here in this wild wild west we've got going on at tumblr dot com...) So, be on the lookout for your favorite stories' big reveals!

[duelacadatoolshed]

it's a bitch convincing people to like you {Evan/Reader/HABIT}

Part 4/4 // FINAL

{ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 }

Summary: HABIT doesn't do aftercare, he leaves that you for Evan to deal with in the aftermath.

Warnings: so much blood, nudity, graphic descriptions, brief flashbacks and discussions about sex, wound aftercare including use of anaesthetic and suturing, mentions of violence, consent regarding the HABIT/reader situation is still a tricky grey area but it's framed in the discussion as SA even though the reader considers it to be CNC-adjacent.

A/N: probably final emhpost in the year of our lord, 2024. end of the story. not going to extend it and get burnt out. happy with this as the ending, beyond this is just the fucked up cycle of the worst throuple you can imagine. If you liked this, you can give it a like, or even a comment, I'd be very appreciative. Or put it into a time capsule and unearth it in 50 years so those closest to you can ask you if you really chose to bury only the 4th part of a 4 part NSFW HABIT EverymanHybrid X Reader fanfiction from Tumblr dot com. If you hated it, let me know so I can flick you through my exact coordinates, and we can fist fight about it in person like rational adults.

You're not sure when you pass out, only that it was from a combination of overstimulation, and pain as HABIT had been carefully carving his name to your chest beneath your boobs. It would definitely need stitches, but it wasn't anywhere near life threatening. Just a little something to remind you of him every time you looked in the mirror, he'd said with a grin, thrusting into you particularly hard, which had you choking out a moan, arching off of the bed.

He'd actually gotten you off far more then twice, and degraded you to the point of tears each and every time. The most shameful was how turned on you were by his cruelty, even if it logically upset you.

The first thing you hear as your waking up is swearing. Evan specifically swearing. He has two fingers to your pulse point, and his voice is shaking. You've curled up on your side away from him, hands still locked up to the headboard, and the more you wake, the more pain you feel; the cuts HABIT left on you are agonizing, but the rest of you somehow still feels all foggy and euphoric. Your thighs especially are feeling sticky and sore, but they don't hurt like they've been cut like your chest had.

"Ow," you whimper hazily, and then Evan's collapsed against you in relief, his forehead pressed against your side. He's shaking, babbling how thankful he is that you're alright, how he has no idea what's going on. You groaned, trying your best to wriggle onto your back, "HABIT broke my hand," you mumbled weakly, still feeling so foggy and pained, but Evan's sat back up, going completely still and silent when he sees your front.

"Please unlock my hands," you pleaded weakly, but your boyfriend is frozen, staring at your chest, "Evan, please, it hurts." You're coming back to yourself more now, and the sharper your awareness, the sharper the pain becomes.

"Yeah," he sounds shocked and sick, but he stands, begins moving. Tilting your head, you see him by the drawer HABIT had gone through before. He looks clean and showered, wearing pyjama pants, his expression far away, almost shattered. As more and more came back to you about how you got into this state, the more guilt, the more self disgust and shame welled up within you.

The demon that possessed your wonderful boyfriend had fucked you senseless after he'd made you kill a man in cold blood, and you'd absolutely loved it. God you fucking hated yourself right now. Maybe even more than you hate HABIT.

Evan comes back with the key and immediately sits beside you, unlocking the handcuffs; your shoulders ache like a bitch, and the moment you're free you burst into tears. Evan surges forward, pulling you into his arms as you sobbed, cradling you to him, on the verge of tears himself as he whispers apologies to you.

"I love you, I'm sorry," keeps tumbling from your lips, and all he can do is reassure you softly.

He carries you to the bathroom, and finally you get a good look at yourself, at what had horrified him so much. There was blood everywhere, but mostly on your stomach, dried and dark and caked to the cuts that very clearly spelled HABIT across your ribs. But in black Sharpie, across your chest and tits, it takes you a moment to figure out in your reflection, but you realise it says 'IF FOUND RETURN TO' above his fucked up signature in your skin.

Evan promises to take care of you as he sits you beneath a gentle, warm shower. Every touch is so tender, always asking before he did anything; your arms can barely move, so sore after being restrained like that for so long, and you let him clean you up. He's so careful when he washes you, though he has to stop every few minutes to give himself a moment as the situation would overwhelm him when he thought about it too much.

When you're clean and dry, he helps you into a pair of sweatpants, and strips the bloody sheets from the bed. He haphazardly tosses a clean sheet down, not bothering to tuck it in before he rests you atop it. Again you apologise, guilty, shameful tears in your eyes, but Evan lets out a long, shakey breath. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

"I'm so glad you're alive," he whispers faintly, "you have nothing to apologise for," except enjoying yourself, you thought, lip trembling, pain and all. He gets you pain killers and a medical kit, and you're actually surprised when he pulls out a syringe and a bottle that he tells you is a local anaesthetic. When you marvel at how he's so confident when drawing up a dose to numb the cuts on your chest, he quietly tells you he doesn't want to talk about it. You still can't help but wonder; it seems like exactly something HABIT would do, give him the chance, the cruel hope of helping his victims, and snatching back control the moment that hope is finally in reach.

"I love you, Evan," you whisper as he's finished with the anaesthetic and was discarding the syringe. But he freezes, his back to you. You see his shoulders sag.

"I love you too," he murmurs, turning back around and sitting at your side; he can't look at you, "too much to keep putting you in danger like this. You know you shouldn't be with me." He's absolutely right, you shouldn't have fallen in love with a man who was occasionally possessed by a sadistic megalomaniac with supernatural powers. But you did, and you'd the price for it, but you know deep down it's a price you'd happily pay again. But you can't find the words to explain yourself in a way that doesn't make you seem like a monster in your own right.

"But I do want to be with you," you mumbled, sounding almost pathetic to even your own ears, "I know I should know better, but I..." your heart breaks at his pained expression, and you sniffle quietly, apologising again, "you're right," it's barely audible, but you can't help but concede.

"I'm sorry," he offers quietly, "about everything."

"You, Evan, have nothing to be sorry for," you told him firmly.

"Even if you don't blame me for HABIT hurting you -"

"I don't."

"I still put you in danger by being around you knowing he could take over at any time," and he threads the needle he was about to suture your wound with, "and the fucked up thing is that I know HABIT better than anyone, and this is his version of gentle." Oh, you realise, that's what's getting him, that's what he can't figure out. He thought HABIT didn't care for you, because HABIT didn't care about anyone, so why had he left you comparatively unscathed?

"I think he did it because he knows it'd mess you up," you sighed. Even gives a wry, humourless smile as he stitches you up, muttering that HABIT was very good at what he did. After a moment, you laid back, eyes closed, "can I admit something?"

"Like what?"

"The fact that the worst part was knowing it was a way to torment you," you swallowed hard, "as fucked as it is to admit, the rest I could stomach; the pain, being violated, all of it I could tough out mainly because my genuine passion for refusing to give HABIT the reaction he wants outweighs my own sense of self preservation," Evan stills, looking at you with an unreadable expression, "but I still gave it to him when I realised how you'd find me, and that he was just using me as a tool to upset you, against my will."

"You can't say stuff like that," he says weakly, eyes going glossy as it looks as though he's about to cry again.

"I know what he's done, what he can do, I'm not scared of him," you insisted, "I just really don't want you to go through this on your own; I know you have the others and you're all going through this shit, but Evan," you voice caught in your throat, giving him a pleading look, "you especially push people away for their own good, with good reason I get, but I don't want to be one of those people if I don't have to be."

"He's going to kill you."

"I keep telling him he should," you give a watery laugh, "and instead he carved his name in me because he was so mad that I don't give even a single shit about him except when it comes to you."

Evan let out a long, shaky breath, closing his eyes as he processes everything you'd just said. He looks genuinely pained.

"I'm going to get you killed if we stay together," he mumbled, "that's- Y/N you know that's a fact. Whatever fucking game HABIT is play with you only ends one way if you don't leave before it's too late," he says it like he's seen it happen too many times before. You're conflicted; you don't think you could live with yourself if you walked away, but you don't want to be used as a tool to hurt him.

"Evan, do you want me to leave?" You ask softly.

"You should."

"That wasn't my question."

It takes a long time for Evan to open his eyes. He swallows hard, gaze trained on his hands as he set back to work stitching you up. You give him the time he needs, however, letting your eyes fall closed as you fight the urge to continue pleading your case; he knows what you want, and that it's to be in his life, to be with him. Now the choice was all his.

"I love you, of course I don't want you to leave."

[paintednailsandsoftdetails]

911, a confession

Let me start by saying that I don't really know what I'm doing here, so bear with me. If I actually go through with posting this, and you find yourself tagged and wondering who I am and why, or even if you happen upon it in the tags, I hope you take a minute to read this.

You don't know me, but you've been my community for a while now. I've checked your blogs daily for years, I've read your posts and loved your art and sent you countless anonymous asks to pick your brains- never hate though, because I'm not a Freak.

What I am, however, is a lonely lesbian with depression and (newly diagnosed) OCD, who has always needed some hyperfixation media/fandom to find life bearable. For some ~fun context, I was Raised by the glee fandom, I will die on the hill that watching queer as folk when I was 14 and discovering its fans 10+ years after airing made me who I am, I've got the most bizarrely timed stint in the 1D fandom under my belt, and I find nothing in the world more interesting and also affirming than Queer Reading (verb) media- to the extent that I earned an English degree and wrote a thesis specifically about it.

I haven't posted on here in 1.5 years, since I fell out of my previous fandom (apologies to anyone from said fandom who still happens to follow me and is seeing this, feel free to move along.) But I've been on this app every day since, because of 911.

(starting the read more here to spare you- again especially if you are tagged, I know you're probably feeling miserable rn but I do hope the entirety of this love letter reaches you)

I started "watching" mid season 5- by which I mean I was in a deep depressive state after disconnecting with previous media hyperfixation and, when I happened upon 911 trending while in need of distraction, I quickly fell down a rabbit hole. Tale as old as time, tumblr dot com convinces you that you need to tune into *insert media here* bc its fun and there are gay people! I caught myself up through all the big blogs and by the time May Day was airing I felt like I had a decent grasp on all the lore, all the fandom drama, all the places the writers were "definitely, so brilliantly" going to be taking the show that we had to look forward to, all without ever having actually seen an episode of the show (before you boo me, yes I've watched it by now, even season 1)

But I think it is important, and also a little messed up, that I fell in love with 911 through YOU, through the fans. Obviously watching the show initially through the lens of fan reactions first and not whats actually happening on screen can have some... interesting results. We've heard it all before, with the people who started watching specifically for Buddie around season 4/5 because they saw The Will and by the time they caught themselves up and watched the end of season 6 they wanted their refunds.

Here is where I want to make a clarification- the reason I got so interested, why I started coming back every day to check in on tags and certain favorite blogs I didn't even follow bc I was denying the want to become fully Involved, was because I fell in love with Evan Buckley. I won't lie, it was Buddie that caught my attention first- of course, thats what everyone here was talking about- and as much as I quickly started discover the value of the show outside of them (Henren my absolute Beloveds!!!!! Captain Dad Bobby Nash you are so special to ME. Chimney man of all time i can keep going) none of it was enough initially to bite the bullet and catch up on 5 seasons worth of a show I also knew would have elements I WASNT interested in (Copaganda and Taylor Kelly I am looking at you.)

But then I started really getting into fan's readings of Buck *insert footage of me learning the Buck Begins of it all for the first time* as a character separate from Eddie (as much as people were capable of anyway, and I will say some of yall continue to be absolutely atrocious at it) and I knew I was done for. Buck, this character so full of goodness, and his need to be Found but to also Find his own family and purpose and sense of self, for whom the show's thesis statement concerns the act of working to Make the kind of Love you want to have in this world, even if you were raised without a blueprint for it- I'm sorry but what else were me and my gay ass queer reading inclined hyperfixated brain to do other than take Evan Buckley into the folds and never let him go?

I love Buck. I was convinced by the time the s5 finale was airing before I had actually watched the show that Buck had to be bi. Even if they never did a thing with it you couldn't convince me otherwise and I was also confident that Oliver was portraying him with a similar mindset. I never wavered in that interpretation, even when the utter disappointment of the s6 finale and the failure to do anything truly meaningful character development wise through the lightning strike-Natalia speed run hit, and certainly not as I got fully caught up actually watching the show outside of tumblr live reactions during episode airings. I'll admit I was pretty ready to Check Out after the end of season 6, to the point where I hardly checked in on fandom at all going into 7 until the rumblings of possible canon Bi Buck reached me and I doubled back like "hold on, for real this time?" But when I say Check Out, I mean I was ready to walk away from the hyperfixation with a joint lack of satisfaction with canon & firm conviction that Buck was queer.

Things with Eddie are a lil different- and I want to try and keep this bit brief bc this is ultimately a post about Buck and Bucktommy and I have no interest in unsettling those of you who may have a queer reading connection to Eddie as real as the one I feel for Buck, but unfortunately this conversation cannot exist separately from the Eddie/Buddie of it all- I personally don't think Eddie is queer. I don't really think I ever did, even when I was in the thick of it with falling for Buddie. I know me saying this would cause certain audience to pelt me with accusations of fetishizing Buck or treating Eddie as nothing more than a vehicle for Queer Buck via Buddie- false! I actually think Eddie is an incredibly fascinating character, a deeply compelling representation of grief and fatherhood and masculinity, and also a hilariously weird lil bitch guy. I just don't feel like- especially having removed fanon glasses while actually starting to watch the show, and taking the time to acknowledge that the things about Buddie that appealed to me on a romantic level (this is NOT about their friendship which i stand by being beautiful and important) all boiled down elements I was reading within and onto BUCK specifically, not Eddie. Perhaps an impossible concept for some, the idea that Bi Buck could feel so real and apparent to me primarily divorced from the idea that Eddie had to be queer as well, but I won't bore you with my explanations for it, though I suspect the people tagged and still reading by this point know exactly what I am talking about.

All of this potentially obnoxious prologue to say, I've spent the last however many months falling in love with canon Bi Buck *insert footage of me speed running back into my daily fandom involvement/blog check ins the moment I knew Buck kissed a man*, with Bucktommy, and with Bucktommy fans.

For a long while there I had resigned myself to an odd, though perhaps not as unique as I thought, reality of loving and fully believing in Queer Buck, not necessarily feeling the same about Eddie or Buddie, but also in full agreement with many that already 6 seasons in with literally nothing else having remotely worked, Buddie would be the only satisfying conclusion for Buck's love story. This is again not exactly how I felt about Eddie- but a big part of that for me is that I don't think Eddie's primarily story in 911 is a love story. He's the vessel for telling other important, beautiful stories about fatherhood and forgiveness and that is OKAY bc not every characters story is a love story!!! Evan Buckley's is though (Despite some very weird and confusing things mr stark has just said about his character that actively contradict what hes previously said and what audiences have been looking at and for this entire time, but I digress)

But then! By whatever happy accident we want to call it 911 had Tommy Kinard fall back into its lap as the solution to what felt like the impossible: They found the ONE way they could introduce a non Eddie Diaz love interest for Buck that COULD be satisfying for Bucks story. Someone with connections to the 118 and the shows history and potential for further development within main storylines as his job directly pertains to their plots. Someone with such compelling connections for interweaving these two characters that it got us- including the showrunner- talking about the Red String of Fate. That it got some of the beloved tumblr pals I had been watching for years, who NEVER would have believed they'd ever root for a Buck endgame that wasnt Buddie doing exactly that, and with joy, love, and conviction. Again I'll ask, what else were me and my Buck loving brain to do but take Bucktommy into the folds and never let go? (apparently I hadn't considered that there was apparently horrifying alternative- more on that next!)

As you all damn well know, falling in love with Bucktommy has not come without its trails. I have never seen things in fandom as vile as the things I've seen go down here. And as I mentioned before, I've been IN IT with yall for a while, even if you didnt know it. I was here, lurking, and I know this fandom has had its highlight reels of racism and misogyny and harassment (despite certain factions current batshit consensus that things were "never bad" before *gasp* a couple of people, some over the ancient age *double gasp* of 30 heard about bucktommy through tumblr the same damn way the 90% of you who havent been watching since season 1 heard about buddie and decided to invest)

What happened tonight made me cry, for about 40 minutes straight. And yeah, its been a devastating week for us all for a lot of reasons. On top of the ~national dread (I'm a lesbian in the US btw) today was my 7th out of 9 straight days of open to close shifts in a demanding retail/management position, and I have a head cold so maybe this was just a Breaking Point after a whole lotta shit.

But also, maybe, it was really fucking shitty to watch this play out. I've already seen countless people say it better than I could. Yeah, its a tv show. It's a fictional ship. But its also escapism, a spot of joy many of us were extra dependent on this week. It was something GOOD, queer representation and a love story on national tv days after a horrifying reality set in for queer people, and we are allowed to acknowledge how much losing that sucks just on a general level for a second...

Second over, now lets talk not on the general level. Lets talk about how I've watched real human beings get harassed, sent death threats, be told they are faking cancer and failing to properly grieve dead loved ones, I've watched deeply homphobic language be adopted and incorporated into everyday use despite constant correction and pleas from queer men to knock it the hell off, I've watched homophia as a whole run rampant and unchecked by big blogs, with some biphobia to boot, I've seen some images of horrific anti gay violence and historical trauma invoked as a way to make fun of others, I've seen lesbianism slandered and proffered as an excuse for such vile behavior in a disgusting erasure of the beautiful solidarity that has historically existed between gay men and lesbians in the face of homophobia, and yes, I've seen graphic descriptions of child rape via targeted fanfiction attacks.

Again, others have already said it better than I can: This isn't about Bucktommy. It's about the way that everyone who was Pulling for them as a couple, who DARED to *checks scribble on hand* enjoy a canon queer mlm couple featuring a character (or two) they've grown to care deeply for, has been subjected to all the above mentioned and more, and for...what. For. What.

In the name of a fanon couple that has not been legitimized by the writers in 7 years? of a fanon character interpretation of a canonically straight man (not just assumed straight, verbally assigned straight now on multiple occasions) that people cannot fathom perceiving this show, let alone liking these characters, without? For the version of this story that, if the writers REALLY wanted to happen could have happened so many fucking times by now- especially when the show was coming to what might have been its end in s6- and still hasn't? A version that has been dismissed multiple times by the writers cast crew and every other unfortunate individual who has been harassed repeatedly about it?

And I'm not here to say Buddie is inherently bad!!!! It brought me into this same as the rest of you. I don't even believe it would necessarily be a bad or wrong conclusion for either character or the show were it to eventually, finally happen!! But for the love of god, hear me when i say from the outsider pov of someone who has experience the show in the way I did first through fandom then stepping back to watch for real and now watching it with my mother who is a near Exact representation of the general audience of this show (experienced Procedural watcher, no idea about Buddie or fandom interpretation, had no sense of gay eddie to speak of, and is not shocked but pleasantly surprised by and endeared by Bi Buck) you are SEVERELY deluded if you think what happened tonight by breaking up Bucktommy "makes sense" to any audience outside of buddies who've been writing manifestos for years about how every single thing in this show is "carefully, intentionally, clearly" leading to Buddie canon. I swear to you the people at home do not fucking see it. The people at home saw Buck in a nice, developing relationship that finally seemed to be going somewhere real for him after discovering an important part of his identity late in life, and then they saw that relationship abruptly ended and Buck heartbroken, going to sit with his best, still straight, bud Eddie Diaz. The ONLY people this makes sense for are the people who I am afraid it seems may have legimately bullied this into happening.

And if that is the case? We are sooo far fucking past the point of no return here. There is no true satisfaction in a Buddie canon endgame here for anyone who's lived through the past half a year in this fandom unless you were a perpetrator of any of the horrific shit mentioned above. I mean that with my whole fucking chest. If, and i do think it is a Big Fucking Fat if, Buddie does happen, and you find yourself no qualms happy and satisfied with it as your well earned endgame, I hope you know how rotted you are. And while I'm at it, I hope some way some how you come to see that this was not the carefully crafted beautifully developed loved story of all time you were gods bravest soldier in waiting for. Its just what left after years of meandering storytelling and cyclical character "development" with a bow slapped on top at the last moment because the gift giver was afraid you might kill them if they presented less.

Anyway. I said a million words ago that this was a love letter, and I do mean that. As much as its also been an mental health exercise for me to write this all out. So,

@kinardbuckleys @bucksboobs @kirkaut @tevankinkley @userautumn @sunglassesmish @tommyscurls @ohithankyou @buckxtommy @princessfbi @bigfootsmom @firewasabeast

(And so many other people I'm surely forgetting, and the few artists and writters on other platforms I dared to venture to- maybe never opening twitter again after this xoxo)

Thank you. You don't know me, I never quite got over the anxiety of trying to re-enter a fandom space after a time away, or maybe some of the imposter syndrome or embarrassment I felt accidentally falling in love with this show and Buck by just watching you all talk about him before anything else. But for the last few months, some of you years, you've been my community, my escape. I've loved watching your brains and your hearts work to discuss and create, even amidst the absolute shittiest fandom behavior Ive ever seen. And I am as grateful for getting to experience it from a far as I am devastated at the thought of losing it, of not individually typing in all your blog names (I was too anxious to even FOLLOW you guys truly rip) to see what new content or spec or art or love you had to share about Buck / Bucktommy every day.

In another life- one where idk perhaps people were kinder or showrunners weren't bullied and actors weren't dropped last minute after months of torment and a satisfying canon queer love story for a character who genuinely needs it could just Be in peace- I would have loved to one day put on my big girl pants (aka saved Buck url) joined the fandom for real. To have directly talked to any of you in a way that wasnt... this.

I would have loved to love Bucktommy with you.

[anonymous-dentist]

Okay guys, let's have our first ever Spiderbit Theme Week here on Tumblr Dot Com!

The theme week will take place from:

NOVEMBER 26 - DECEMBER 2

Anyone can participate regardless of "skill level" (if there's even such a thing.) You can write, draw, make playlists, make webweaves, make edits, anything!! Put it on AO3 or on Twitter or Instagram or just keep it here on Tumblr, do what you want!! Just tag me in whatever you do so I can share it, and remember to have fun!!!!

The point of this theme week is for everybody to have a chance to sort of just chill and relax after the first half of Purgatory wrecked our morale, and it'll be a fun way to keep us busy during a good portion of cc!Cellbit's break from the server so we don't despair quite as much.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me!

See you next week!! :D

-A.D.

[namazunomegami]

Atonement

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.

CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie

WC: 5.3k

Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕

Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.

A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕

Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork

It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.

Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.

Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.

“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.

He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.

Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.

“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”

Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.

“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”

You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.

“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

This… was a bit too far, you must admit.

You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.

“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”

A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.

“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”

You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.

“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”

You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.

Hold on…

You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.

Did he just… no, it can’t be.

He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.

But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.

It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”

“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”

Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.

“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”

You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.

But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.

“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”

The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.

You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.

“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”

His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.

This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.

“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”

A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.

“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”

His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.

The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.

“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”

You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.

“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”

Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.

“This is not your cross to bear.”

He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.

“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”

He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.

Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.

Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.

“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”

All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.

I’ll keep an eye on you.

It’ll keep an eye on you.

You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.

“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”

You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.

“I promise.”

You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.

You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.

You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.

“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.

“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.

“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”

Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.

“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.

And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.

In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.

The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.

There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.

You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.

“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.

“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”

And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.

The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.

And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.

This is what real worship looks like.

When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.

He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.

“Since when were you so reckless?”

His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.

“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.

Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.

You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.

The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.

And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.

You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.

“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.

And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.

Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.

You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.

But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.

You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.

He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.

Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.

But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.

You’re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.

“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.

Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.

And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.

“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”

No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.

“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.

There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.

“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.

His words cause anger to bubble up in you.

“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.

“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.

“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.

“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.

Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.

“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.

“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”

He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.

“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.

Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.

His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.

His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.

“And what do we say when we apologize?”

The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.

“Forgive me.”

You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.

Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.

His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.

He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.

And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.

“I forgive you.”

Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.

He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.

“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”

“I know. But you love me all the same.”

You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.

Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.

But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.

And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.

“Is your hand alright?”

He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.

He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.

And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.

You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.

“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.

“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.

“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”

[hongluboobs]

tumblr user hong lu boobs have you played any of the new canto yet im very interested in your thoughts

Yes I do!!! I don't want to make a big post on Some Of The Stuff til the whole canto is up (if you are aware of this account and some of my recent postings it may become aware of what i am talking about) but ohhghghgh. This shit Re Awakened the naive cyanism in me!! I thought it was gone. I thought I was over Hong Lu! I haven't even been doing my dailies and weeklies as of late that's how out of it i've been. but NOPE!! We are sooooo limback babey!!

(i apologize for yapping about hong lu right off the bat. its not that guy's turn yet. it's don's world and we are all just living it, but with the way don's character is structured my brain goes more towards a "wait and see" approach for her. I know it'll be awesome and i Am invested but like. this is hong lu boobs dot tumblr dot com. I'm sorry women)

I'll put some basic stuff above the cut and then some more spoiler-y stuff below.

HUGE fan of the presentation this canto. PJM continues to get crazier with this stuff every canto and this is no exception.

In the light of that previous bullet, I am fully expecting some meta fuckery here. They've pulled some cool stuff at the ends of cantos 5 and 6 but. this is the sinner about delusion/unreality! I Live In Fear of whatever pm is cooking.

The setting is also REALLY fun. whenever I saw a new battle bg i was cheering and clapping. they're all so fun and whimsical and there's so much potential for interesting things

I really like seeing how people dress in the north of the city! We've had so many new factions/branches of factions thrown at us so far and I love a lot of the outfits! Will this still hold true when I try to draw them and get upset at the level of detail after drawing standard formalwear on pm characters for so long? Maybe!

The CGs have been really clean so far? As an artist I get worried about this stuff sometimes because it's a lot of work to get done but all the ones I've seen so far are really nice :)

If you aren't reading passives and status effects this canto. do that. my brain might be a little too small atm to comprehend some of the gimmicks w the main enemy type but some of the wording in the enemies passives may be hinting at things. Also some of them are really funny

this Might be my favorite direction they've taken the OST? Honestly it's so hard to pick because this ost NEVER misses but I've been typing this whole thing to that one boss's theme (you know the one)

If you've played through the first part of the canto, feel free to click through the read more for some of my thoughts that delve more into spoiler territory

I am so intimidated anytime the screen goes black and I have to deal with various colored text and Scary Voiceover. I cannot say much on it aside from just how scared i get whenever it happens. I'm pretty bad at identifying voices (especially if i don't understand the language) but these lines just get. so interesting

Here they are all together for my convenience (and potentially yours :) )

I don't have a ton to say on it especially because anything I say can be proven wrong Very Quickly and I am not a don quixote scholar but I think the "Please, please! I don't want an adventure, stop! Please!" line from (who i assume to me) second kindred don is VERY interesting. much to think about regardless!

UPDATE: while I was writing this my buddy lu-is-not-ok (follow him. if you like what I do you'll like what he does.) sent me this image.

Yep, we've got identity stuff going on. Yellow seems to be Our Don Quixote (It's her text color, at least, but back then she'd be the bloodfiend second kindred, hence being able to obliterate that bear immediately, and acting less in line with the DQ we know and love) while red is... maybe the original don quixote? The original owner of rocinate at least,("Your running shoes look like they could fetch a nice price...") who seems obsessed with justice and fixers like ours. I haven't read the book so I don't feel like I can add a ton more to this aside from flat speculation but I am very interested in how this develops.

Ok now I want to talk about Hong Lu stuff. Let's ignore the elephant in the room for just a second :)

I'm a big fan of the exchange between Dante, Verg, and Hong Lu. THERE IS SO MUCH CONCERNING FORESHADOWING IN HERE!!!!! OH MY GOG. I can't handle it.

the specific wording of "the most lucid one" is SO interesting to me. fully expecting these cantos to be a True Combo. I was already anticipating it because they both have so much to do with rules and the boundary of reality and delusion but with the familial hierarchy theme present in bloodfiends its Definitely happening. And the light in Hong Lu's left eye going dimmer??? with the water theming being used??? Gloom/sinking themed distortion Please Please Please. you're nothing. Theres some water connections from the book irt the land of illusion (near the end bao-yu's enlightenment is seen as realizing that everything is akin to moonlight mirrored in the water- it ultimately doesn't matter and everything predestined to happen will occur regardless) and this water theming is present in Hong Lu as well (base ego) but it's really interesting to see it Like This.\

And now. there's probably some other stuff I can talk about but I wanna say things about The Elephant In The Room. If you follow my stuff and are caught up on this canto you know what I'm talking about.

I have been compiling a diagram with every mention of Hong Lu's family across all his dialogue. (which you can see here if interested, though it's now outdated for obvious reasons) We only really get vague mentions, the only direct family appearance is Jia Huan, who shows up to say one line and then fucks off.

I was not expecting to get stuff on Hong Lu This Early. They've been giving us mostly crumbs and I was NOT expecting to get hit by All This. I have been surviving on scraps and I just had the Hong Lu lore equivalent of a rotisserie chicken thrown to me. I'm kind of rusty on DOTRC because I haven't touched up on it in a while and as such I cannot give too many details but it's very interesting to see Xichun.

I'm going to check up on Xichun's characterization in the source later because there's so many characters in that book and she wasn't really one I had that close an eye on during my read. From what I remember, she's one of Bao-yu's cousins who lives in the garden with him, and eventually runs away to become a nun when the family starts falling into decline. (mirroring Bao-yu running away to become a monk for the same reasons.) I'm probably missing stuff I'll catch when I go out to reread the book, but based on how she's depicted here it gives me more of an idea about what themes of dotrc they're pushing for canto 8.

They're for sure emphasizing the familial abuse and how fucked up the jia family is. It almost reads like all of the siblings are in competition with each other (building "factions"). and Hong Lu has said his siblings have attempted to kill him before.

Hong Lu has been like this, which lines up with his book equivalent of Bao-yu, who is notorious for being childish/naive and not necessarily working within the pre established rules and conventions set up by his family. I'm curious how he's managed to survive this long with the jias a lot more willing to Kill Eachother.

"My most amicable sibling" fucks me up so much. what the hell is this family's deal man. I'm really curious about this line, because xichun is not a sibling but a cousin in the book. I'm curious what's gonna happen with Bao-chai and Dai-yu in Limbus because it's very challenging to adapt this story without those two. Dai-yu in Dotrc is one of the characters Bao-yu feels most comfortable being himself around. Generally, the female characters in DOTRC are better people than the male ones, and Bao-yu spends most of his time with the girls as a result. I'm curious how/if they'll adapt this because it's a pretty big thing in the book and they serve as an escape for Bao-yu from dealing with the nightmare that is people like his father. I feel if it was happening, they'd probably write Xichun a little kinder, but I don't know nearly enough to make any sort of call yet. Absolutely TERRIFIED (positive. this is a good thing) for what PM is cooking.

I'm gonna have to cut this off here because i have A Lot of thoughts but i also have many assignments to finish and have been typing this for way too long! Thank you for asking the question anon I hope you enjoyed reading some of my thoughts :) !!

[fighting-these-demons]

Divorce Saga Domon - A Haunted Honk Prequel

Hello Internet Stranger looking up G Gundam on Tumblr dot com!

This is an idea for a fic set in an Alternate Universe involving Queer Non-Canon Relationships between the characters of the series.

If you are not looking for this content please scroll on.

If you ARE looking for this content - and you're ok with reading my and other's Headcanons for this Alternate Universe I've haphazardly spun up -

Then go ahead and feel free to:

Check The Tags Of This Post For The Pairings

and click the Read More below!

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Ended up outlining a completely different fic as a Segway for an explanation instead of making progress on the Royal Flush Haunted Honk AU's Clown Motel Fic like I wanted to but uh....

For y'all's review for the AU: A Prequel Outline - Divorce Saga Domon

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Hey real quick - I'm thinking of maybe changing the timeline to 2 years post canon as opposed to 3 years and change post canon.

The reason being: I had a thought that this scene could either be part if the fic or if it's getting to big then it could be a stand alone tie-in prequel fic as part of this AU but - like

Immediately Post Divorce Domon Needs Space and runs off. As one does. And he runs to Earth because he just wants to Get Lost for a while.

He has Argo smuggle him out to avoid detection.

Argo has Andrew help stow Domon in a storage hanger of a Neo Canadian supply ship that's returning to the US - they have trade often enough and share agricultural resources - which leads to Domon ending up in New York when he hits Earthside pavement.

He's privately worked on his English the last couple of months and after being dropped in New York with a different hairstyle, outfit, and accent he's unrecognizable. 

He considers making his way west to get some solitude in the wilderness, but something about that initial plan feels off now that he's on the ground.

Chibodee is also Earthside for a special series of prize fights aimed at raising charitable appeal for the US in the eyes of Neo Americans.

Domon decides to hit up Chibodee for a fight on a day between matches hoping it'll clear his head and give him the clarity to decide on a course of action. What ends up happening is an unexpected heart to heart via blows and a breakdown.

Domon is happy for Rain and Kyoji, and he knows it's not true; but he feels like he lost a piece of himself when his relationship with Rain fell apart.

Domon's instinct is to run after that but Chibodee knows this city and Domon doesn't hide out for long before Chibodee drags him back to his place to stay and just "Chill out and breathe. You don't have to be anyone but yourself here. You can take as long as you need to find out what everything changing means for you." Friends and teammates stick together.

So Domon spends a few weeks with Chibodee sparring and hanging out in New York. Chibodee does a frankly awesome job at containing his feelings because he's focusing on Domons feelings and being a good friend first and foremost. Whatever he's feeling can wait until after Domon is done going though it.

There's a bit of a twinge in Domon's heart as he leaves that he can't really place.

After he returns to Neo Japan and gets settled back into life with his family, The Dreams start.

They're mainly set in New York. Small things first like noticing Chibodee's smile and his eyes. Then sparring sessions that begin to turn lurid.

He thought these kinds of dreams would stop after he was married.... he doesn't know what to do about this.

I just figure it gives more clarity and sense of time for the journey from Comphet Marriage Dissolution to Feelings to Confession. Idk.

But I got stuck on a bit and then had this thought and needed to get it down before I lost it and it was so long it made sense to make it its own post as opposed to several replies.

The Maize and Clown Motel will probably still be 3 years and change post canon for clarification.

@thedragonchilde @amplexadversary @youreaclownnow

[cleolinda]

In which we try to do something with the Patreon

I'm gonna try something tomorrow: the first of the month is when the Patreon billing cycle starts, so on Sunday (October 1st), I'll open a $5 level. (Right now I just have a $1 level with tumbleweed rolling by as a tip jar sort of thing.) There, you'll be able to see Effort Posts, you know, the essay-length things about vampires or perfume or music, or anything else that strikes me, early. At least 24 hours early, in a handy PDF file, and also, I can see if people like the piece before I post it here on Tumblr. Some personal pieces may stay Patreon-only, depending on the topic (do I want Tumblr at large commenting on my genealogical research? Probably not!), so there's also that. Similar things I've already posted are the Varney recaps, Donna Summer and Disco Demolition Night, Sparking Joy (Jean Patou, 1930), or my retelling of Tiny Moist Hand, so that's the kind of thing you'd see early.

That up there, in screenshot preview format, is a two-part (true) story called "I Grew Up in a Haunted House and I Didn't Notice"; it's about 5300 words all told. (Question: would you rather have the pdf in the larger font size, which I found easier to read on mobile, or the standard 12 pt, both shown above?)

After a day or so, I'll put the story here as two normal tumblr posts. So you will be able to see them here, but if you want to know how tf I could have been haunted and not known it and then my sister said I had it all wrong anyway, you can see it tomorrow on Patreon Dot Com Slash Cleolinda.

What I would also like to do is start posting weekend links as free/public posts on Sundays--kind of like a newsletter you can get whether you chip anything in or not. I'm more concerned with people knowing where I am while all these social media platforms crumble into the sea, honestly. I'll also archive some older posts as PDFs as well, although that might take a minute, so there'll be a back catalogue to browse.

As we go along, I'd like to see if I can either record some readings or just do short (under five minutes) voice posts, but I would also want to type up transcripts for those, so I need to get a feel for how much time that takes. I miss doing podcasts, although I deeply need to get a new headset. And some Throat Coat. I'm already looking over the two short Halloween stories from Livejournal that people mentioned, the ones I read aloud years ago; I'll repost those as we get further into October, and I have some posts about scary movies in the works. And you'd get those delivered to your inbox rather than them be solely awash on the waves of Tumblr.

Anyway, I'll reblog this tomorrow once the $5 level goes live, but I thought I'd get some feedback a bit in advance.

[alexiaugustin]

season two of shadow and bone should have shown absolutely every last fucking person that this show is a soulless piece of trash adaptation that doesn’t understand nor gives two fucks about the source material they're allegedly trying to adapt and that the people behind this show were all lying to your faces when they apologized for the things that upset people for 24 hours before season one streamed two years ago, because after all this show still erases the trauma of a woman’s sexual abuse story and they are still sexualizing bisexual people and they are still fucking everything about these characters and their dynamics up.

season one should have upset most people enough to stop stanning this show but during the last two years we have learned that there’s A Lot that the tv industry can do that people won’t care about. an ableist, colorist and fatphobic and age inaccurate casting that hurts people by taking their representation away is something people won’t care about. complex characters being reduced to an inch of what they actually are like so they and their relationship can neatly fit into archetypes, tropes and ao3 tags is something people won’t care about. showrunners getting exposed for having their white stunt doubles do brownface is something people won’t care about. a show having a dumb script that makes everyone on the show look like a fucking loser is something people won’t care about.

and now season two is out and they did everything they already did in season one wrong but it’s somehow still so much worse. after watching season one i felt like the deeply offensive and wrong things about this show were still explainable, season two actually has me at loss for words because of how bad it is. because of how there’s not a single thing they did right about the soc books; not the characters, not their relationships, not their storyline, nor the world they live in. i could give a few examples like the fact that kaz told inej that feeling as if she’s not really free from the menagerie where she was sex trafficked as a child "isn’t her fight anymore, it’s his“ just because pekka rollins owns her now. or the fact that wylan and jesper met via a one night stand and were fucking by episode four even tho they don’t even kiss before the end of ck. or that they turned pekka rollins into a super villain who wants to kill kaz even though the whole point of his role in the books is that he has no idea why kaz has it out for him and he doesn’t care abt these teenagers.

i could explain all these and so many more examples in depth, and still it wouldn’t be enough to capture the the true scope of how bad and truly horrible this show is. and yet. and yet when i log into tumblr dot com or twitter dot com i see gifsets of this show, of the relationships they don’t understand, of the characters they butchered and i'm seeing people rooting for another season of this nonsense. at this point this show feels like a social experiment that’s trying to see how far people will go to defend a deeply offensive and atrociously bad piece of media. and during the last 48 hours i've come to realize that some of y'all will never be able to be pushed too far. some of y’all had their brains rotted away a long time ago when tiktok and ao3 made you believe that media is nothing more than the consumption of aesthetics, tropes and archetypes and that it’s a good thing if these are responsible for the death of art. if you claim to love the book and the show at the same time you are lying to yourself because that is simply impossible. you have, in short, truly lost the fucking plot.

[sgnarl]

thundahouse 2024 commissions \o/

hellooooo once again. its the beginning of the year so you know what that means! reworked comm post.

before we get into the details....

in the past i've used slots, but this time i will do every commission as i receive them in order and there will be no slot system. as always, if you're ever curious about the progress on a commission, just ask for an update and i'll send you one.

i only accept payment upfront & i will not negotiate on paying after or partial payments. payment info at the end of post

you can contact me right here on tumblr dot com, just DM me!

Full Body Character - 30$

Add character +10$

Add shading & lighting +10$

Add simple background +7$

Price points for the background can be negotiated based on the level of detail required, or if they are a complete or partial background

Portrait - 30$

Portraits will always be rendered

They will always have a decorated background (simple shapes, colors, concepts, or designs)

Portraits will always be from the bust up

Full Canvas - 70$

The full canvas option can get a bit abstract. Basically, you just sit and talk with me about your character/s, their aesthetics, occupation, their lore, specific poses or concepts you want and then I go ham on the canvas

It will always include some level of shading and lighting & some level of background, whether it is a literal setting or a decorated/abstract background

The base price is 70$. I can draw the same character 3 times, and it will still be 70$ (as shown in the first example). However, if you'd like to add another character (as shown in the second example), it will be +10$, just as it is with the Full Body Character option.

If you're only curious and want to discuss this option, feel free to DM me, no strings attached

Concepts I Will Accept

✔️ - some robot/cyber/mech stuff (i really determine case-by-case), furry/anthro, non-humanoid creatures, fantasy, sci fi, OCs, weapons, blood, nudity/suggestive

✔️ - some fandoms I'm familiar with are D&D, Marvel & DC comics/movies, Assassin's Creed, Disco Elysium, ATLA, Metalocalypse, The Wolf Among Us. I'm capable of doing any fandom artwork with sufficient references

Concepts I Won't Accept

❌ - hateful imagery, underage/abusive/incest ships, certain fandoms (Harry Potter, Voltron, Supernatural are among these), gore, and ofc I reserve the right to deny anything

cashapp - $thundahouse

paypal - thundahouse

NSFW COMM POST

Examples of character drawings below