#and idk if its even good or not but we move.

[sailorsoons]

Petrichor (k.sy)

PAIRING: Soonyoung x afab reader

SUMMARY: Waking up to the sound of rain is good - waking up to the sound of rain and Soonyoung pressed up against you is better. 

WC: 1,796

AU: Established Relationship, Slice of Life

GENRE: Smut, Hint of Fluff

WARNINGS: Explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple play, groping (idk she’s rubbing his dick alright), sleepy/lazy sex, not somnophilia but both reader and Soonyoung are consenting adults, albeit kind of sleeping, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex 

A/N: It’s raining here and @highvern wouldn’t stop sending me pictures of Hoshi and now look at what happened. Sigh. 

A/N 2: This reader is listed as AFAB, as they are not explicitly described as using specific pronouns. No beta we die like men. 

MASTERLIST | PERMANENT TAG LIST | ASK

The smell of petrichor drags you from your sleep, eyelashes fluttering, muscles uncoiling. Rain taps against the windows, a soft buzz to accompany the cool, misty air that comes into the room. It’s still dark outside, that weird black-grey sky that precedes dawn. The windows are open, letting in the breeze and sound of rain. 

You shiver, sinking further into the bed, thoughts still a little slow and sleepy. Warmth presses up against you as Soonyoung shifts, sensing your alertness. His hand skims up your leg on instinct, reaching for you in his sleep until he settles his grip on your waist, fingers twitching slightly. 

This time when you shiver, it’s because of the warmth of his hand, the way he’s pressed himself against your back, and because you can smell the barest hint of his minty scent. 

Lightning splits the sky, quickly followed by a hum of thunder. That draws Soonyoung from his sleep, a brief moment of tenseness rippling through him before he relaxes back into drowsy awareness, arm resting across your hip possessively. 

Barely turning your head, you glance backward at him. He’s a dark silhouette against the bed, his face squished against the pillow and hair mused. His eyes are closed but he senses your tired gaze, cracking one eye open. Even in the darkest room, Soonyoung has the prettiest eyes. 

“Mmm.” His hum is low. Graveling. You shift a little, realizing just how tight he has you pulled to him. His grunt is neither a question nor a statement, it just… is. 

Soonyoung shifts behind you, bringing his mouth to your shoulder. You drop your head to the pillow, sighing as another wave of cool wind kisses your skin just as he brushes his mouth against you. 

A sound gets stuck in the back of your throat. You’re caught between the rain-kissed wind coming in from the windows and the blazing heat of Soonyoung’s mouth lazily making its way across the back of your shoulder toward your neck. 

On instinct, you tilt to make room for him, giving him access that he didn’t ask for. He chuckles and it’s deep and throaty, making your toes curl. Of course he realizes how pliant you’ve turned, of course he’s amused that this wasn’t going anywhere to start, and suddenly, it is. 

Soonyoung’s grip on your waist tightens for a split second before his hand is on the move, dragging warm, greedy fingers under the hem of your shirt and up your ribs. Your breath quickens, hands twisting in the sheets. 

You’re still somewhere stuck between awareness and sleep, a hazy place where Soonyoung’s teeth scraping against your throat before his tongue brushes over it drives you to insanity. It feels good, this slowburn fire spreading in you as Soonyoung drags his nails under the curve of your breast while his mouth an earlobe between his teeth. 

“Hnnn,” you grumble, not really words, not really a sound, but something in between. 

“Hmm?”

Soonyoung’s thumb brushes over your nipple, the warmest flick of friction and your whispered fuck is lost in a roll of thunder. Soonyoung hears it, though. Gets spurred on by it. He seems content with lazily flicking his thumb back and forth over your nipple, the action far more stimulating than normal  in this sleep-haze you’re both in. 

One of your arms reaches behind you, cool fingers pressing against his stomach. He hisses at the temperature, hot breath hitting your ear. He twitches behind you, his thumb momentarily stopping as you dip your hand lower, passing over the waistband of his sweatpants to press firmly against his hardening cock. 

It’s his turn to whine, spasming at the new pressure as you keep your hand there, unmoving. When he moves, you move. His fingers go back to tracing the peak of your nipple, your breath coming out in quiet puffs. You drag your fingers up and down his shaft, the barest hint of friction through his sweats. 

Turning your head, you let Soonyoung kiss up the edge of your jaw before he finds your mouth. The kiss is idle and soft, a mess of slow-moving tongues and gentle teeth scraping against your lips. You moan into his mouth when his hand moves to your other breast, this time pinching you sharply. 

Your hips twitch forward as lightning splashes across the room, bathing you in a momentary flash of light. You can’t see Soonyoung but you know his cheeks are flushed by now, skin over-warm as he gets a little more desperate, hips twitching against you and breath getting a little quicker. 

Still, he knows how to pace himself. Instead of peeling down his sweats and prying you open like he wants to, his fingers leave your chest to dance down the soft curve of your stomach, snapping the band of your underwear playfully before he goes for what he’s really after. 

Soonyoung’s fingers find the damp warmth between your legs. He lets out a loud groan, breaking your uncoordinated kiss to bury his face in your neck. His fingers are devilish and inquisitive, pressing against your panties briefly before pulling them aside to expose you to his seeking hand. 

“Soonyoung,” you mumble, though it comes out more as a hiss. His fingers drift up and down your cunt, gathering the arousal there before swirling his fingers around your clit. “Hmmm.”

He peppers kisses over your shoulder and neck as he plays with you. There’s no rhythm or pattern to his ministrations, almost like he’s lost in the wet sensation of you on his fingers, hypnotized by the warmth he finds when he presses a finger into your entrance, intrigued. 

You clench around him and mutter his name again, your hand squeezing his cock at the feeling. He grins against your shoulder - you can feel the curve of his smile - as he starts to finger you properly, the heel of his hand pressed against the swell of your clit, his finger sinking deep into your pussy, stroking. 

You go quiet. All you can do is pant, closing your eyes as Soonyoung pumps his finger, hooking it ever so slightly against your front wall until he feels that soft patch giveaway and your squirming against him. 

“Mhmm,” he hums, shifting behind you so that your hand falls away but he’s got a better grip on you. He pushes a knee between your legs from the back, prying you open a little to fight your clenching thighs. “Let me.” 

You do. You let him do whatever he wants, boneless in his grasp as he slides in a second finger. Soonyoung is fully awake now, fucking you on his fingers properly, the wet sounds rivalled by the pattering rain outside. 

Both of your hands tangle the sheet in front of you, twisting in them as your eyes squeeze shut, flashes of color spilling across your closed lids. Soonyoung kisses your neck messily, his hands making an equal mess of your cunt as he works you toward an orgasm, burning low and slow in the pit of your stomach. 

Your breath starts to hitch and he can feel it coming, presses a chaste kiss under your ear as he chases it, fingers fucking into that spot over and over and over and - 

When you come, another roll of thunder drowns out your cry. You’re left shaking against the pillow, face hidden and lungs heaving. Soonyoung keeps his fingers steady through your high, only slowing as you come down until you relax entirely, bodily uncoiling. 

There’s a wet schlick when he pulls his fingers from your entrance. You don’t care and there’s not much time to think about it as he shoves his sweats down to his thighs, patting your leg with hands sticky from your orgasm to ask you to open up.

Wordlessly, you do. You hike up your leg to let Soonyoung press the thick head of his cock into your entrance, the pressure firm but good. He lingers only for a second, letting your pussy flutter around the intrusion before he’s sinking in, both of you moaning and falling apart at the feeling. 

You hook your leg over his, too lazy to hold it up. It’s not the most comfortable but it works as Soonyoung presses his cock all the way in until he’s hips-to-ass with you, deep enough that it steals the breath from your lungs. 

For a few moments, he stays there like that, fully seated in your heat as you twitch around him. He brings up his hand to your face, sticky and heady with your scent as he tilts you to face him. He steals your lips in spit-slicked kisses, his tongue eager against yours. 

When you groan, sucking his tongue into your mouth, he begins to move. The pace is slow but deliberate, each punch of Soonyoung’s hips enough to make you gasp into his mouth. You break the kiss, unable to concentrate on both, brows furrowing and mouth parted as you breathe hard. 

He doesn’t mind, letting your head loll back onto the pillow as he busies his mouth elsewhere, tracing the curve of your shoulder and the delicate slope of your neck. It is heaven. You’re barely aware of the way the rain has picked up outside, or the way the apartment shakes when it thunders. All you can focus on is the slide of his cock, the heat of his mouth and the pressure in your stomach. 

Soonyoung knows you’re already close. You’ve always been easier to please when you’re tired like this, so easy to peel apart and pull pleasure from. His fingers slip between your legs again, keeping you trembling as he finds your clit and circles it lazily, pressing his fingers hard for the added pressure you need. 

It fucks you up. He’s hardly fucking you into next week like he often likes to do, but this lazy snap of his hips, the rough press of his fingers, the messy heat of his mouth - it’s enough to send you melting into another orgasm, coming around him harder than the first time. 

Lucky for you, your cunt squeezes Soonyoung so hard he comes undone without warning, hissing as his fingers go still, hips twitching. A string of raspy expletives drip from his mouth until he’s panting, spent and just as dazed as you are. 

Thunder rolls through the room again, but you barely hear it over the thudding over your own heart and the way sleep whispers to come close, to give in. 

“Sleep,” Soonyoung mutters, sighing against you. He doesn’t pull out, doesn’t make any move to separate your bodies. “Clean in the morning.”

“Kay.” You sigh, drifting. “Love you.”

“Love you.” 

You fall asleep to the sound of rain and the smell of petrichor. 

PERMANENT TAG LIST

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched @eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380 @bultaereume @yoongznme @kaitieskidmore97 @coffee-addict-kitten @gyubakeries @archivistworld @asyre @kaepjjangiya @fancypeacepersona @beckyloveshannie @imujings @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jbluen @mingumis @kimsaerom @imlonelydontsendhelp @eunyi @smiileflower

[shutupineedtothink]

The Beauty and the Brutality - a quick analysis of the WoT S3 sneak peek

Wanted to share a few thoughts now that I’ve seen that opening clip a solid 7 or so times.

Off the top as always I am struck by the sheer volume of powerful women this show has. I can’t believe it isn’t talked about more on that basis alone, and I hope this season changes that because look at them!!! Holy shit.

Once you get past that (and to be clear, there is no getting past it, you just have to relegate that fact to a corner of your mind where you can separately freak out about it), the thing that most struck me about this opening clip was the beautiful brutality. Not two words you pair together often, but that’s what we have here. And it’s a super unique thing this show does that sets it apart - and I would say elevates it - from other current fantasy properties (let’s be real, RoP and HotD).

Let’s tackle these separately and then together. First, the brutality. This is a scene of 20 or so women just absolutely destroying each other. There’s no holding back. Somebody gets cut in half. Leane beats a woman to death with her staff. Siuan seems to be actively trying to destroy Liandrin from the inside out (more on that in a bit). There’s blood and stone everywhere.

They’re screaming, they’re throwing the one power around in insane ways, people are dying. Chaos, carnage, etc. It’s very striking in a room of exclusively women.

But then you have the beauty. Obviously, item #1, the looks. Dear god everyone is serving. EVERYONE. I need a full breakdown on every single one of these costumes. Like fuck if I don’t know Liandrin is a piece of shit but she looks so good that I want to root for her anyway!! The black and red swirl with the gold accents and the braids and the eye makeup— I digress.

I guess between the costumes and the one power effects what I’m struck by here is the use of color - not anything overly saturated but certainly distinct - in a way you would NEVER get in HotD for example, where the color palette is largely shades of dark colors and an overall dark tone. You know, the gritty realism thing. Which was fine for a while, but now bores me. RoP on the other hand uses color more liberally, but its going for more of that “everything you’re seeing could be taken straight from a renaissance painting” look - which is also cool and a choice that fits the property but arguably also something we’ve seen before from the Jackson films, which they are trying soooo hard to emulate.

WoT feels different. We have this distinct use of color and style - and camera/cinematography style - but it still somehow maintains a “realism” to it. Maybe because these women still look like women as opposed to Tolkien’s elves? Idk. Moving on.

Let’s talk about camera a little bit. This is another thing that falls in the “beauty” category for me. Some of those slow mo shots during the tower fight? Insanely beautiful. Composed. The from-on-high shot of Liandrin being hoisted up by the one power? Gorgeous. Even the slow mo of Siuan apparently crushing Liandrin from the inside and then her coughing up all that blood - gross, and yet somehow also beautiful!

My point is that this feels like something they’re really paying attention to so that the show looks and feels different from anything else. And honestly such a power move to start the season, because if I was coming at this without having seen the previous seasons, I would look at this and be like yeah that looks fucking awesome and like nothing else I’ve seen recently, sign me up. So I really hope they get people on board with this clip.

Idk I guess there’s just something about 20 beautiful women dressed for the gods going for each others necks without reserve or remorse that speaks to me.

[mugentakeda]

scoring a job at the tea shop was too easy. but now that he’s staring at bowl of jasmine flowers next to the black blend, it might have been a dumb idea. it’s not busy enough to numb his stupid brain.

the owner, mr. dugu, a short middle aged man with greasy long hair, was all too happy to hire him. we could use a looker like you, it’ll bring all the women in!

lu ten thinks back to zhao and jiro in dismay. he highly doubts his love life will ever heal itself back to normalcy. azula would agree with that.

it’s probably for the best that zhao doesn’t know where i am, he muses, but jiro would probably try and send me money.

now that he thinks about it, mr. dugu kind of reminds him of jiro. just a few decades older, and in green. a slick and stout guy that thinks he’s all that and a bag of fireflakes. so slick, you wouldn’t see the earnest, hard working gentleman hidden beneath at first.

but his dad is in there too. with the crows feet, receding hairline, deep tea scent, big hands. laughter in his eyes, at just about anything.

in the tea shop, however, his dad is everywhere he looks. his dad is the smells, the old tea cup rings stained in the tables, every sun ray shining through the windows, the cheap peeling wallpaper with painted leaves floating in the wind.

is it betrayal, what he’s done? or is he just dying on the hill of what his gut tells him is right?

he’s forcing his heart and his gut to become one, so he can physically stand loving his father, but not liking his father, simultaneously. letting them both exist together, at the same time. it’s not life ruining or earth shattering. it just… is.

lu ten misses the parts of his dad that he enjoyed, with great guilt. the roughhousing, the morning meditation, a warm hand brushing through his feathery hair, carrying him to bed after a long day at the beach, dropping his bags and letting lu ten barrel into his arms at full force after weeks being gone, bickering over the do’s and don’ts of tea. things got spotty and more spaced out once he turned double digits, because at that point lu ten was old enough to go longer without seeing his father. he was a busy guy and lu ten had been okay with that. he’s never been someone that needed constant attention, anyway.

but those parts were only enough to satisfy the young lu ten who didn’t care what his dad was outside of being his dad. then his aunt was married into the family, and lu ten started caring about a whole lot of things.

his aunt and his cousins give him purpose. what would he be, without them? they shape his interests, his entire worldview, his habits, his sense of self. the areas of politics and legislation that he dipped his toes in as a prince were even influenced by them. he tells right from wrong by wondering, if it was your aunt and your cousins, would you be okay with it?

what ursa went through after having azula haunted his dreams. the afterbirth stench, her hyperventilating, hoarse wails. the fire sages and azulon and ozai all muttering to each other, just to add to the chaos. he’d gripped little zuko to his chest in the dark corridor across from her chambers like a vice, biting his lip in terror and cheeks flushing as hot tears rolled down his face. it was the worst thing he’d ever heard in his life, and nobody seemed to care.

then he finds out that his mother went through the same thing with him over morning tea with his grandfather. casually, like he was being informed of the weather.

she believed she had the right to name you toshiro, despite not showing any enthusiasm over you at any other time of day, azulon had grunted. i don’t know why he ever bothered with that commoner wretch. you’d still have a mother today if he hadn’t picked some halfwit dancer with a smart mouth, you know. i even went through the trouble of setting up a whole line of good, wellborn women right before him, and he didn’t entertain a single one! but i suppose it doesn’t matter now, seeing the fine young man you’ve become regardless. i was afraid you’d inherit her crassness, if you’ll forgive me.

so she got sick of the shit and disappeared. to this day, he barely knows what to do with that information.

he hates ozai for doing the same shit to his aunt that his own father did to his mom. forced, unwanted marriage. the pain and misery of childbirth. postpartum. making heirs. he fucking hates that word. heirs.

toshiro. it’s a good name.

he’d leave his dad if he were his mother, too. he did leave his dad.

mr. dugu asked after hiring him if he was a soldier, going by his posture. he’s no earthbender, and the scars are from trial and error lightning bolts. but there are nonbenders in the earth army, and lu ten can put his mouth where the money is when given a staff. so he says yes.

that must be why i like you so much, mr. dugu had sighed. my own boy is a little older than you and lives in ba sing se with his old lady, as a teacher in a little kid’s school. he’s a bender, so he enlisted to help fight- but that stubborn old prince bastard is persistent. you know the ash and blood is filthying their water? his old lady is pregnant, and she has no clean water to drink. it’s unbelievable! but that ashmaker doesn’t realize how steadfast the good people of the earth kingdom are. the spirits will deliver them, and he’ll tuck his tail between his legs and run for the hills.

filthy water also means sick livestock. and sick livestock means sick people when the livestock is eaten. sick people means sick mothers and children, and sick doctors that can’t help sick pregnant mothers give birth. and then ba sing se is cut off from incoming supplies due to his father’s army, so they’re probably rationing the medicine. so sick pregnant mothers giving birth without proper medicine, without proper doctors because they’re also all sick. that leads to dying mothers, dying newborns, or mothers and newborns dying together.

lu ten just isn’t sure his father realizes little stuff like that. or maybe he does, and just doesn’t care. and that thought makes him so angry, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.

his father had acted like all that was happening in the impenetrable city was something funny in his letters. along with a couple of thinly veiled pleads for lu ten to quit being stubborn and join him already.

narrow, ignorant self-interest does not impress him. its ugly coming from his own father. its even uglier on a man that’s supposed to lead their fucking country one day. lu ten will not be the same. the people he loves most in this world cannot afford for him to be the same.

you have a savvy for diplomacy, zhao had snapped at him. your father could use something like that. what’s keeping you here? don’t you see benefits waiting to be reaped from this? your cousins will still be here when your father succeeds! get over yourself!

“diplomacy,” lu ten sneers out loud. then sighs loudly in frustration when he knocks the cup over with a jerky hand.

one minute ba sing se is being taken by his dad so it can become one with the fire nation. the next minute he’s burning it to the ground. if it’s the fire nation, why in the all fuck is he ruining it? is that not counter-productive? is that not hypocrisy? what diplomacy is there to be had when there’s nothing left of the city?

but then, people on the homeland get arrested for some real petty shit. the colonial towns get paid dust. his dad killed the last dragon, despite a good portion of lu tens childhood folktales composing of dragons. despite agni herself being depicted as a dragon. a million things that he never questioned before that make no sense to him now that he has the freedom and time to truly ponder.

the spirits are not to be trifled with or questioned, my son. the spirits can even judge the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.

lu ten isn’t a man who claims to know the spirits ways, nor does he question them. he wasn’t there when they laid foundation to the earth. he doesn’t know who determined its measurements. but he does know that agni wouldn’t deliver a message so stupid and pointless.

he just questions his father, and the authenticity of his pointless quest to flatten a city being spirit-sent.

what do you wanna bet he used the wrong kind of flower for his tea and was just tripping balls?

the more he thinks about it the less grace his train of thought is willing to spare.

he’s so mad that he can’t like his dad. he’s so mad that he exists at the cost of his mother’s everything. he’s so mad that everything his proud, beautiful country stands on and believes in has the strength of a single grain of rice. he can’t bare the thought of just continuing to ignore it to maintain his sanity- he’s never been so glad to be an adult with a brain and not a kid in his own little world- but realizing things is so painful. its only ever painful. he wants to curl up in a ball and rot away. the guilt and anger is mind numbing.

do you think of me with as much frustration as i think of you, dad? do you sit and ruin your own day trying to understand what goes on in my head, or is it just me?

the fumes from the boiling teapot steam his face as he bends over it slowly, trying to curb the acid crawling up his throat like a demon emerging from hell. static curls up and down his arms and brings his hair straight up, the heat bleeding from the tips of his fingers and his palms into the counter is teetering on the edge of unbearable-

“cousin?” a little voice startles him out of his thoughts.

he pauses, and turns his head.

zuko’s standing there in front of mr. dugu, who’s grinning at him cheekily.

zuko is wearing a green apron that drags on the floor. the anger building in his chest melts like chocolate over a fire. the counter is already cooling beneath his steel grip.

“…li,” he greets, weak humor in his voice. “what’s shaking?”

the kid flushes. “i got bored and walked here from mom’s work. and mr. dugu said no loitering in his store. so i’m….. hired.”

“are you a seasonal employee?” lu ten snorts.

“i don’t even know what that means,” zuko replies curtly. he doesn’t realize his sass definitely matches azula’s. “i can bring the tea to the customers.”

“well,” lu ten sighs, “i believe i’ve scalded the hell out of this jasmine by accident. give me a few minutes and i’ll happily provide you with something drinkable.”

“…do better!” his baby cousin orders awkwardly. and so he does, because lu ten is only ever the loyal servant to his baby cousins.

zuko brings the tea to the customers. every time lu ten hears his lispy little voice thank them for their patronage in monotone, he can’t help the way his lips quirk in amusement.

“the girls in the front kept baby-talking me,” his little cousin grumps later that day. “i had to run away before they got the chance to pinch my face.”

mr. dugu laughs, and pats zuko’s little shoulder heartily. lu ten’s heart aches. he can think he hates ignorance until the sheep-cows come home, but there’s nothing crueler than seeing his father in this man’s mannerisms, who’s son could be dead or alive at this very moment, due to his father in question.

“just be glad your sister wasn’t here to see it,” he replies, lest he choke himself up with his own angsting.

zuko huffs and slides off the chair he’d been sitting crosslegged on. “mr. dugu, could i take some cakes from the back to my sister? she’s a sweet tooth.”

“it’ll be coming out of your paycheck,” the man replies teasingly.

zuko frowns like a cranky owlcat. “i don’t know what that word means either.” and with that, he stomps to the back.

“that one’s a trip alright,” mr. dugu laughs. “and you say the younger one is even worse?”

“sure is,” lu ten sighs happily. “they both are the worst. i’m wrapped around their greedy little fingers. they don’t let me hold the house keys, but they’ll let me buy them candy.”

“it’ll be like that forever,” mr. dugu says sagely. “my only son is now a grown man with a wife of his own, and soon, he’ll make me a grandfather. but at the end of the day, he’s always gonna be my precious boy. my baby. and no matter what, i want him to always know he can come back home to me. despite everything. no matter what.”

the man deflates suddenly. “if anything, i might just beg him to come back home to me, once ba sing se chases that scumbag away. i have enough room to house the three of them. my boy lives and breathes to be a teacher in the city, but this old heart can’t take not knowing….”

he trails off, and pushes over a rock with his foot glumly. “they say he has children, too. the fire nation prince attacking the city, i mean.”

lu ten’s blood turns to ice in an instant.

“i doubt one such as he would feel anything if he lost them. if a man can kill another man’s child, i believe he’d might as well kill his very own. and this father would protect every child in this village as his own. you, and your little monster cousins. you know?”

agni is a big blurry dot in his vision, and he swallows hard. “yeah. yeah, i do. this one thanks you for it.”

he holds zuko’s little hand tighter than usual as they go to pick ursa and azula up from the florist.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Advanced Hall Monitor Technique: Go To Detention

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[thegreatyin]

this nemesis ambition started out a little slow but I am getting closer to finding that bastard who killed my wife, and I’ll not rest a minute now that im far closer to on his trail

sorry got in character for a second

Anyways fun ambition so far very fucked up though

congratulations on joining the murder club anon!!!! depending on who you ask the name refers to either people who have murdered or people who have witnessed murder. usually both. actually extremely often both. it's a swell time you'll feel right at home (don't mind our collective skyglass knife collection in the back)

[skitskatdacat63]

"Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily."

+ process(tw blood)

Also, look at him, bloody little guy 🥹

This drawing was inspired by several matador pics :D here and here:

^ I don't think I'll ever live up to the second one ah. There's several pics of that specific guy just soaked with blood, and I'm uh a bit obsessed with then ITS FUCKED UP I KNOW OKAY! But I've not drawn blood in a while so it was a bit difficult so I added less than I would want to I guess. Also I'm obsessed with how often they kneel in bullfighting?? Like okay who are you arching your back and spreading your legs for-

[sabotourist]

People seem so jazzed about the possibility of Grimmons being canon but idk. I can't really hope for it. In my ideal world, Grif and Simmons would buttfumble their way into a legal marriage, a beach house, and a child sooner than they would confess to each other. They sleep in the same bed but fuck no they aren't a couple. Ew. They discuss the possibility of taking walks on the beach, decide that shit sucks, and opt to bitch about movies all close on the couch. No they aren't ACTUALLY married, dumbass. Just legally, for tax purposes.

[guinevereslancelot]

starting to kind of date someone right before christmas is so stressful fr. do i get him a gift or what we've been on two dates but i'm seeing him tonight n it's christmas eve.....but what if he didn't get me anything then it will be weird.....

[bottombaron]

i was trying to find some positivity in the Simms transcript and instead i just found something else to get mad abt:

“[the Nandor and Guillermo relationship is about] the experience of having a boss that [you] worship and adore and love. That’s what we’re exploring.”

…so this whole time they were writing Guillermo and Nandor’s relationship as a way to explore their own experiences of hero worshiping their bosses…

and that, somehow, is the greatest, most profound love story in all of modern television…

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

god is swuarshing me beneath his thumb like i am an aphid or perhaps a clover mite. yeah. its slow and painful and im small. and also meek

[b4kuch1n]

tdov was like a week ago already but I just wanna say when I came over to vacation slash help my sworn brother move flat he told me, "ever since you said you wanted to get top surgery I've been thinking about it. it's straight up number two on my bucket list"

[waywardsalt]

with my phantom hourglass replay, there are two things i noticed;

a possible theme you could glean from the game is action vs inaction, and i think it's especially prevalent before you even leave mercay the first time, with oshus frequently urging link to not go after the ghost ship, then to just wait until the broken bridge is fixed, and seems reluctant at every turn while link and ciela are more than eager to go and do something about this problem, and the people of mercay in general talking about things and their problems but never seeming to act on their fears or desires, as well as the mention that due to the ghost ship, very very few people are still sailing around, while linebeck is one of the only people we see in the game actively going after the ghost ship and still sailing around. i might make a longer post just talking more about the action vs inaction in phantom hourglass but i just noticed it a bit and thought it was a bit of an interesting sort of theme you could find in the game.

linebeck moves so fucking much. i think he moves more than any npc in the rest of the game. not just in his intro cutscene where he is very animated, just in how much he moves when just standing in his little idle post, it's damn near distracting when the camera is focused on him, he moves a lot. i don't think i've really acknowledged how much he moves, and it really gives the impression that he's antsy or eager to get going, both of which fit him pretty well with how he acts.

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[kingtankgirl]

about half of my apartment is packed up and in a week im going to be living in a new state for the first time in my life. kind of surreal n scary but extremely exciting. this has been in the works for like 8 months now so its incredible to finally be at the precipice of such an awesome life change

[storm-of-feathers]

I maintain that stress sickness is a stupid maladaptive response like oooohhh the numbers in my bank account aren't big enough so now my body is cooking itself. bruh.

[hauntingblue]

Them doing a photo lineup of the mugis for the battle and when it's Robin's turn she just turns and does a blue eyed stare at the camera 😭😭

Look at her 😭😭