#anyway I am gonna read it lmao

[essektheylyss]

I JINXED MYSELF I opened a book I wanted to read and then my third course site got published and there's an optional book to read THERE AS WELL THAT SOUNDS SUPER INTERESTING THAT WOULD PROBABLY GO REALLY WELL IN TANDEM WITH MY CURRENT BOOK, FUCK

[krysmcscience]

The Lamb is malicious in a funny way and the Goat is funny in a malicious way. No, I will not elaborate.

Anyway, everyone give thanks to the Lamb for interrupting what was sure to be a very boring and patronizing PSA from their grouchy cat hubby. Truly, they are doing God's work. Granted, the Lamb canonically is God now, so, uh. Mostly they're just doing their own work.

Speaking of their grouchy cat hubby, yes this is absolutely still Narilamb, Narinder is 100% into his goofy-ass spouse always no matter what and we all know it, he just wasn't expecting his brand new adopted kid to share the same single goofy-ass brain cell as the Lamb. :)

[starry-bi-sky]

Out of Context Danny Phantom Memes for a fic i haven't posted (yet)

[crystalpallette]

frye inspires this sort of manic "i can do whatever i want" kinda will in people and god. I sure did do whatever I wanted here

[hailsatanacab]

Your Favourite Author's Favourite Fic

in no way is this me sneakily trying to get fic recs out of people, but here's my new tag game!

Rules! When tagged, reblog with the fic you've written that you love the most

Not the fic with the most kudos, or the most comments, or the most hits, but the fic that you're the most proud of. I'm talking about the story that kept you up at night, the one that you still think about, the one that you wish more people would read

So, it's time to show off! I strongly encourage - in fact, I demand - that you give yourself some compliments, a well-deserved pat on the back, and tell us all the reasons why it's your favourite!

Then tag five people and make them go through it, too 🥰🩷

I'll tag @wolfjackle, @tourettesdog, @gilbirda, @die-erlkonigin6083, and @thewritingowl to get us started, please and thank you!!

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

oh it's Soliciting Book Rec Hours again:

has anybody read a NOVEL (preferably spec fic, like SFF/Weird/horror) where the major conflict centers around a Crisis of Faith? character driven, is what i'm looking for, specifically in long form genre fiction. upper YA or adult, please! bonus points if queer.

at this time i am NOT seeking religious fiction recs (no, not even religious spec fic like ted dekker or whoever is writing such things now)(is ted dekker still writing)(no shade on this market, it's just not what i need)

thanks!!

[jebiknights]

I adore Obi-Wan, don't get me wrong, but every time I see people make statements like "he's the most desired man in the galaxy" I just think of how he always has something smart mouthed to say and how deeply annoying it would be to work with the man half the time. He's lucky Jedi are good at controlling their emotions or else someone would've strangled him by now and it wouldn't be a sith

[bonetrousledbones]

Can you tell us your the reasons for why you like Papyrus? (I’m sure you’ve did this before xd, but I always enjoyed rambles about Papyrus. Hope you’re well!)

oh it is 100% his whole loneliness thing. growing up i was a chronic friend group hopper all the way from kindergarten to 8th grade and then by high school that didn't work anymore so i just kinda didn't have any genuine friends for basically that entire 4 years. so hyperfixating so hard on a character who's basically completely centered around that struggle helped me feel a bit less hopeless about it. the funny thing is i think pre-undertale papyrus actually had more friends than i did back then but like its the little things

that's why this fic that i'm gonna plug again hit me so hard tbh. shit sucks when you're trying so so hard to be friendly and engage in other people and then you get to a point where you have to realize they're not at all interested in returning the favor, even if they're not overtly rude about it or anything, they just don't care to get to know you any deeper than surface level convenience and it gets real hard to not let yourself get angsty about it lmao

i do think that while sometimes i wish i hadn't been given such free internet access as a kid i'm still really lucky that i was able to be exposed to undertale when i was. it's such a unapologetically hopeful game that i'm sure it absolutely impacted the way that i think about things today in terms of optimism and the ability to turn bad situations around, and papyrus plays a huuuge part of that entire message. if it weren't for him, i'm honestly not sure if i would've had the drive to keep trying to connect with other people even when it didn't work for so long.

so tl;dr thank you funny little skeleton man for constantly reminding me that making friends is still possible even when your demeanor is frankly weird as fuck. sometimes you just gotta keep truckin until you find your people even if it takes a while

[twinksintrees]

so i am absolutely obsessed with @play-rough’s classification au on ao3 and it got to the point where i needed to make a whole playlist dedicated to it, so here it is, i hope you all like it.

playlist breakdown under the cut

understand: it’s the first song on here because of @/knoxx.tbox’s animatic, it’s gorgeous and everyone should check it out. it captures the gentle, caring part of their relationship perfectly.

little space: it’s just a song about little space, i also found the line “and i start to give in/to the sin/to the sin” very fitting for dazai because of just how much he hates his little head space.

hazel: sad tired dazai vibes, it makes me think of the second fic where he stays up all night, trying to drop but can’t, and the poor baby is just so out of it. “hold me tightly” he wants chuuya to hold him so, so badly. but he can’t say that, he can never just say what he wants, so he has to wait until he drops and then he has no choice, and he hates it. but yeah it also just soft sweet comforting vibes to me.

smoke signals: this one’s weird cuz unlike most of the songs on here where they’ll apply to either dazai or chuuya, this one has a stark divide of both. the first few lines “i know i’m a freak/ripped the band aid, broke the peace/took the lock but lost the key/guess i set you free” are so dazai it hurts. he thinks he’s a freak, he hates himself for his regression, he thinks leaving and getting out of chuuya’s space and life is setting him free from dazai. but that’s not what chuuya wants, the rest of the song is all about chuuya always welcoming him back, always wanting him there when he’s upset, wanting to be there and to help him. he wants to take care of his baby and for his baby to let him.

almost home: this one just gave me very gentle sweet vibes. it also made me think of the car ride back to chuuya’s apartment after dazai bit tsu and walked back to his shipping container alone and regressed, and just chuuya lulling small dazai to sleep and holding him, happy to have his baby back.

moon river: i wanted at least one nice lullaby on here and this is what my mom would always sing me so it’s just very personal to me lmao. just picturing chuuya humming/singing it to little dazai makes me v happy.

treehouse: the childhood friends vibe. “i’m the captain/but you can be the deputy” just like, describing their bond together. the closeness, the trust, all that.

escapism: this one’s all about dazai. him wanting to be free from his pain and wanting to be free from his little space, while also using his little space to escape his pain, if that makes sense.

beautiful boy: first off this songs just makes me insane second oughhhh chuuya singing it to dazai would end me. he’s chuuya’s boy, his sweet little baby. and chuuya will always be here for him, will always keep him safe, will always do his best to quiet the overwhelming voices in his head. they’re so soft it makes me unwell.

yellow: also a chuuya one, he’d do anything for baby dazai. he would bleed himself dry if it came down to it.

i need to be alone: dazai angst. the isolating himself when he feels little space coming on. the antsy-ness, the irritability, all of that. he doesn’t want to snap at chuuya, but he doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know how else to handle it. so he lashes out and somehow, still, chuuya is there. he hasn’t pushed him away yet. dazai doesn’t think he can handle the day he hits his limit.

i’ll die anyway: similar vein to the above. sad dazai.

juliet: the opening verse is so dazai core to me it hurts. “but i need to understand/when I can power through/and when i need some help from you/when i should stand my ground/and when i need to just sit down/sometimes i act like i know/but i’m really just a kid” all of this speak to dazai and his relationship with chuuya, specifically with accepting his help with his little space. he doesn’t know what to do, how to handle anything, when he’s little he is just a baby. chuuya knows what to do, what will help him feel better, knows how to take care of him and make him feel good. and dazai has mixed feelings on that, because he loves chuuya and he loves his attention, but it hurts to receive sometimes, and it hurts to not know what’s going on with himself, and that chuuya knows better what to do. he feels out of control and he doesn’t like it, but he still trusts chuuya and yeah it’s a whole thing.

i’ll keep you safe: chuuya song. very straight and to the point, chuuya just wants to keep dazai safe and happy and he wants to protect him, be there for him, quiet all the bad thoughts in his head. he knows how much it takes for dazai to regress at all, and the fact that he keeps doing it around chuuya (even though sometimes it is out of either of their control) just proves a huge amount of trust and chuuya values that so deeply, and that is a bond he would never dream of betraying or breaking.

rises the moon: imma be honest this one’s just for the soft vibes. i could see chuuya humming it as a lullaby, but mostly it just made me feel soft and happy so i put it on here.

small hands. this song. this song oh my god. i love this song so much it hurts. anyway it’s chuuya talking to dazai, “if you need come build your home in me, i can’t fix what was done to you, but i’ll shield you from the rain.” it’s chuuya knowing he can’t go back and erase dazai’s past, but being here for him now. he’s here now, and he’ll be here in the future. “cause i never mind, no matter the day or time, i never mind” chuuya would do anything to be there for dazai, it’s him telling him to reach out for help, telling him it’s okay, telling him he truly doesn’t mind, he wants this. he wants to care for him, to help. “and all the anchors that they hid inside your chest/we will unravel all of the chains/toss the remnants all down the drain” the anchors and chains being the trauma mori’s instilled about little space being bad. that dazai’s not supposed to, that he just push through and push it down and be fine. it’s chuuya telling him that’s not how it works, but together we can get you to regress safely and see that it’s not bad, it doesn’t have to scary, it can even be fun sometimes. it’s the slow process of working through all that trauma. “i will be there to pick up the pieces, and keep you housed while you bend them up” literally just chuuya always trying to have dazai over. his apartment is so much better than dazai’s shipping container. like just objectively. “if you wind up in the dark again/just turn and call my name/if the fire in your chest goes out/well i’ll hold you all the same” this whole bit also makes me think of after dazai bit tsu. “if you wind up in the dark again” is dazai going back to his container alone and scared. dazai doesn’t even need to call chuuya’s name before he’s showing up to help him, even if it’s a bumpy ride getting on the same page. “well i’ll hold you all the same” goes for chuuya’s feelings towards dazai in general. he wants to care for dazai in and out of headspace, it’s just the type of care looks different depending on where dazai’s at. sometimes it’s holding him in his arms, sometimes it’s pulling him back from a ledge. sometimes it’s gently feeding him a bottle, sometimes it’s forcibly fighting him into dry, clean clothes so he doesn’t get sick. and now for my favorite line “if you need to take this out on me/well you know i won’t complain” it’s chuuya never getting angry at dazai’s outbursts in headspace, cuz he knows how hard it is, how hard his baby is trying, he just doesn’t know what else to do with his overwhelming feelings. so chuuya takes his outbursts and handles them, and he’ll never hold them against his baby, because he’s literally just a baby what else is he supposed to do but cry and lash out when he’s tired and grumpy.

tired: sad tired dazai and specifically the line “cause i’ve been eating less all day/to give my brain some extra space to think.”

coffee: I know it’s called coffee but honestly this makes me think of chuuya prepping dazai’s bottles, making sure it’s just the right temperature, the right flavors for his baby. vanilla and strawberry, something more special than just milk. it’s cute.

feb 14: honestly i just kept coming back to this song and the playlist didn’t feel complete without it but i couldn’t tell you why, i don’t have a real detailed reason for it other than vibes.

this side of paradise: chuuya not wanting dazai to feel lonely/be alone and scared while in headspace. “come be lonely with me” all that jazz. i chose the slow version cuz the og felt to fast paced and overwhelming compared to the rest of the playlist, and i this fit it better.

[chimerahyperfix]

Being frozen in time definitely does something to you. Physically it cages you. Mentally it throws you into the longest dream you could ever have. It's not comfortable-- far from it in fact-- but you've grown to look forwards to it, when you loose. It's better than being mashed to dark paste at least.

You're frozen right now, in fact. Waiting in silence for time to loop back. Stuck with your thoughts and a vauge feeling of a dream. The house is around you and you're moving through it. Empty rooms and endless hallways, curling and twisting in ways that make them feel alive despite the lack of any living thing that isn't you. No sad monsters, no frozen bodies, no dark stains. There doesn't seem to be an exit.

The dreams you have when frozen seem to correlate to how you're doing emotionally. Most of them have been lost to time, like most things in your life now. Dreams, wounds, emotional bonds; everything is turning back with you, and that’s started to do something to you, because now you can predict the actions of those around you with quite a bit of accuracy. You can recall little bits of things, but the further back you go is just static. There was a bunch of dumb things that you can’t piece back together anymore, there were times with those you love, there was endless rage flowing through your very being, and there was this. The desperation. The empty halls of the very House you’ve worked so hard to protect.

You want out.

You've kept count of how many times you've been frozen. How many times you've died. How many loops. 61 is the counter and it's far, far too many times to relive the same day over again. You grew tired of the monotony by the tenth go around. Twenty five felt like a stab wound. Forty, like you were being split in two. Big 6-0 felt like drowning. You don't feel real anymore.

But that's fine! You can still see the good in this, if you stretch your imagination like taffy, as far as it'll go. It's better to be just you, just one person, than everyone else! You can live with the weight of the country on your shoulders for a bit longer, if only to keep it off of Euphrasie's. You’re doing this for her! For everyone. You can do it for a bit longer. You just need to find the King’s weakness, or something. Make a more powerful potion, or scrap together the materials to make a second craft bomb, or, or something! You’ll find it soon enough. You’re smart! You can do this!

You have to.

You turn down the hallway. Find yourself on an entirely different floor. Just as much of a ghost town. Just ice and cold and tiredness, your breath forming clouds in the air. That’s fine. This is just a dream or something, anyway. You’ll wake back up at your desk any time, with the looming vials of all sorts of toxic stuff you keep drinking that you crabbing neglected to put away because you didn’t think time would crabbing loop, because realistically, WHY would you assume that would happen? Preposterous! Ignore the burning feeling in your throat and the smell of sugar and push on. Wait for it to start all over again.

Because it has to be you, doesn’t it? You wished for this, or something. You don’t remember. It was a long time ago. It has to be you, because only you have the power. It HAS to be you, because who else would it be? Euphie? She’s already got enough on her hands. Mirabelle? You’d rather die. It’s better you do this than the ones you love.

It has to be you.

it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be

It's sucks, having to be the one to do it. Your limit was a long time ago.

You can't do this forever.

[llumimoon]

No one asked for these I just wanted to draw them LMAO anyways have a cute lil Normal and Link hanging out <3

[essektheylyss]

Because I'm going to be thinking about this forever, I do want to talk about how Caleb speaks, because I think there's something to be said for how his protectiveness (in general) actually presents itself.

Caleb uses epithets and allusions a lot. He refers to Nott as "my goblin friend," to Jester as "my blue friend," to Yasha as "my barbarian friend." Yussa is at one point "our wizard friend," and Essek is "my Kryn friend," in the two-shot.

He is also, notably, paranoid about being surveiled. He wears the amulet of nondetection for most of the campaign, and it's not unwarranted, given that Trent locates him and nearly burns down the Blooming Grove the moment he's able to get a lock on them. Trent in fact has been shown to use any and all information he can get ahold of about or from Caleb against him, to a truly extreme level. His seemingly single-minded goal is expressed to be to ensure that not a single aspect of Caleb's life and loved ones is safe at any moment, to perpetuate the threat of harm from any direction in order to essentially control and monopolize Caleb's every thought.

In Echoes of the Solstice, Caleb does suggest that he is not concerned with Trent being able to surveil him any longer, but Trent is not the only threat, and, timey-wimey plot nonsense aside, the Hells' inability to scry on him since then suggests that he is likely wearing an amulet at least by that point in the timeline.

The extent of Trent's focus on him and his ensuing paranoia is extreme, and even beyond when he may no longer feel that Trent is a threat to him, he seems unwilling to allow him to pose a threat to others, and people he cares about in particular.

Within that context, it's not difficult to read his use of epithets, particularly in referring to people who are not currently present (rather than using their name aloud), as a form of protection. Some of his manner of speaking implicitly or explicitly presumes that he is being surveiled, even outside of the context of protectiveness; after Vess Derogna's death, he frequently refers to Lucian only by epithets, most often, "our old friend," and at one point establishes "Lady D," (to Jester's glee) as a code name for Vess Derogna for the specific purposes of countersurveilance.

This method of protection, I would imagine, goes double for Essek; not only does Caleb have the habit of worrying over those who would use his loved ones against him, which is of course borne out in Echoes of the Solstice, but he also must consider that Essek has his own enemies, and a stray mention of his name in the wrong company or setting could get his partner killed. It seems even in that gifset, when Caleb says, "I am worried for Essek," after the encounter with Trent at Vergessen, that he first considers obfuscating, stumbling over allusory phrasing before acknowledging that Trent already has the information he needs, and at that point Trent is their only real concern about who might care, given Lucien is far too focused on reaching the Astral Sea to worry about hostages.

When Caleb answers Jester's, "And he's going to hurt Essek," with a silence and an oblique reply, it feels most to me like a further measure of protection, knowing that knowledge is power that can be used against him and his loved ones, and silence is the weapon he has against it.

[rotisseries]

rick riordan dickriders on here will be like "why are you complaining about the pjo tv show, go watch the movies and see what a bad adaptation really looks like" ok well listen to the musical watch it on youtube and see what a good adaptation looks like bitch. it can be done. as a fucking stage musical. what did that 15 million per episode do for disney that chris mccarell couldn't

[cinnamon-bunni]

hey so ummmmm everyone go read Moonlight (every single night) by @heleentje right now. like, its a botw fic with timeloops, what more do i have to say

[strawberrryangel]

today was a good day! *collapses into bed and sobs uncontrollably*

[lizstiel]

Dean’s sitting at the kitchen table eating meatloaf when it all sort of hits – and he’s desperate to remember it exactly how it happened.

With his fork raised halfway to his mouth, a dollop of meat and sauce perched precariously on the tines, his eyes wandered over to where Cas stood by the sink in a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and one of Dean’s old t-shirts. (One of Dean’s old t-shirts, because once Cas gets his shoulders into them they never really sit the same way.)

He’s got soap up to his elbows, scrubbing methodically at the dishes Dean just dirtied, his brow a taught, concentrated line. He’s bringing the same kind of meticulous focus to the dishes that he used to bring to leading the armies of Heaven; that singular kind of attention, both unnerving and admirable. (Dean had once tried to explain that he didn’t need to wash them quite so vigorously, to which Cas had deadpanned, “Do you know how many food particles remain on the dishes you wash, Dean?” It quickly became his job, after that.)

It’s early July. About 6:30pm. The window over the sink is cracked, and the front door is wide open, letting the sound of cicadas and crickets drift in with the summer breeze. The sun’s starting to set behind the field, casting the world in that particular orange glow that has always made something in Dean ache. In the other room, the record player Sam got them for Christmas plays a beat up Janis Joplin record he’d found at a secondhand store in town. The opening chords of Me and Bobby McGee have just started, and the cicadas are humming, and the crickets are singing, and the sun is setting, and Cas is standing in old pajamas washing dishes Dean just used to make them dinner and –

Cas tilts his head.

This isn’t revolutionary. He does it a lot. A very ingrained behavior, some might say. But he isn’t confused, he’s reacting. To the song. He doesn’t react to music the way Dean wants him to, never has, but in his own way, it’s almost like he’s leaning closer to hear it. An infinitesimal thing. The smallest gesture. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Dean has never loved him more than he does at this moment: backlit by a summer sunset in their house in the middle of nowhere, hand washing dishes and listening to Janis Joplin.

Cas turns when the sound of Dean’s fork clattering on the plate sounds, but Dean just scoops him into his arms, chases any worries away with a kiss, and then another, and then one more for good measure. Cas laughs against his mouth, desperately trying to keep his soapy arms away from Dean’s dry clothes. “Dean,” he chides, squirming and chuckling, trying to extract himself from Dean’s grip. “I’m not finished.”

“I’ll get ‘em tomorrow,” Dean promises, peppering sweet little kisses down the line of Cas' throat. He hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. It tickles all the way down. “Love you so much,” he says, because he wants to. Because he’s so full with it he’s overflowing. Because if he doesn’t tell him right now, in this moment, and every moment after this one, he might die. He needs him to know. It’s vital that he knows.

Cas’ laughter warms, and he slides one soapy hand to the back of Dean’s neck, eyebrows raised in challenge when he shudders at the sensation. When Dean doesn’t immediately shoo him away, he slides the other soapy hand up Dean’s arm. “Dean?” He’s not worried, the timber of his voice is honey-smooth and light, but he’s confused. Not that Dean doesn’t tell him often, and loudly, how much he loves him, but to be fair this did kind of come from nowhere, so he understands. It’s just much too much. It’s not enough and it’s everything. It’s everything in the world Dean has ever wanted.

Janis Joplin is singing freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose, and Dean’s arms are loose around Cas’ waist, and he loves him, god he loves him so much, so he kisses him on one corner of the mouth, and then the other. Janis says, nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no, no – and he rocks their bodies together, slow, to the beat of the music. Cas’ arms come to wind around his neck automatically, and his smile starts to sprawl into something reserved for only the really good moments. Wide and gummy and for Dean – and feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues. He presses his forehead to Cas’ and they just sort of sway there like that, smiling at each other like this might be the last chance they ever get.

Cas says – “I love you, Dean,” just as Janis is singing, you know feelin’ good was good enough for me – and it occurs to Dean that he’s dancing in the kitchen with the love of his life. He thinks back to the longest, loneliest nights he spent staring up at the night sky, believing wholly he’d die bloody and alone on the backend of some random hunt, and how the smallest (but loudest) part of him had wished for exactly this. For someone to hold him and see him and dance in the kitchen with him, barefoot and covered in soap.

He kisses the tip of Cas’ nose, the lines under his eyes. Doesn’t realize he’s crying until Cas is wiping tears away with the pads of his thumbs and soothing hands through his hair. He’s crying, too. Laughing and crying and telling Dean he loves him, he loves him so much, he’s loved him from the first moment he saw him.

It settles in Dean then – really settles deep, and true, and good – that he was meant for this. He wasn’t born to be a weapon. Wasn’t born to be a son, or a father, or a brother. Wasn’t born to save the world or to end it – was just meant to dance. His arms were meant to hold. To sway them both around the cheap linoleum floor, to sling low around Cas’ waist and spin them both ‘til they were dizzy with it.

They laugh and kiss and Janis is saying – good enough for me and Bobby McGee – and Dean is thinking – Yeah. Yeah, it really is.