#go nuts with these nuts you nuts

[limbuscompanysituations]

(post canto VI) Some angsty stuff, like Ishmael being upset because Heathcliff acts totally different, all in all mainly missing the deep friendship that has started to form between them, some longing for a feeling she can't quite explain. She wishes to help him but doesn't know how to approach him properly ww

He changed.

It's normal for sinners to experience sudden, drastic changes; be it either in opinions, values or goals. Through the entirety of a bough retrieval mission, they are forced to revisit their own life stories. Their emotions change, their thoughts change, their hearts change. They change.

This change, however, is most unnatural; she would risk calling it unnerving.

He's always at a corner, doing something to his bat. Ishmael thought it would be a matter of waiting a couple days. She decides to leave him to it. Their stay at the Wuthering Heights was confusing, with a lot of it vanishing from their minds. It was clear there was something she missed here.

She's still expecting that the camaraderie that had blossomed between them would lead Heathcliff to tell her what was up. Instead, all she got was a man who was a shadow of himself. Ishmael can't handle it anymore, so she goes ahead and confronts him about it.

He iss still modifying his bat, bowing over it and completely focused on the task at hand.

"What's your problem?" She asks. It takes a minute or so for Heathcliff to slowly raise his head and look at her. It took him another half minute for him to really look at her. It's like he's deep underwater.

"What d'ya want?" He asks back. She frowns.

"So this is how it's gonna be? Hiding at corners, sanding that damned bat over and over and... carving? What happened to you? It's like... some ghost snatched the soul from inside your body."

He flinches at the word "ghost".

"Catherine." He speaks in a barely audible whisper.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, thought so." He sighs and goes back to his task. Ishmael grits her teeth, considering whether or not she'd get scolded for beating the shit out of him then and there.

"The name doesn't ring any bells to you, or anybody, for that matter. That means I still... have much to do." He quietly explains.

"You could start with growing a spine." She growls, "And tell me what the fuck happened to you." The next words she speaks hurt her more than anything, "You used to trust me."

Heathcliff pauses, shut his eyes and presses his lips into a thin line.

"Yeah I... I used to... Think many things before." His voice is weak, cracking and drifting away at the end, "And you're right. My soul was stolen, snatched out of my bones. I'm hollow, pumpkin." He chuckles, "Hollow like... birds' bones, I guess."

And for the first time in weeks, a little bit of that grief started showing through the cracks. Their stay at Wuthering Heights was brief and chaotic, but she remembers one thing clearly: the moment his mind broke, his insanity took over and he became not a friend but a foe; overcome with pain beyond what a human could bear.

"Don't call me that." She replies, "Not when you're like... this."

"Aight, Ishmael. D'ya want anything else?" He doesn't look at her.

"I want you to come back." It doesn't take a heartbeat before she says these words, and then he raises his head to look at her again, "However long it takes. I'm waiting, you stupid piece of shit. Waiting for the moment you want to tell me what the hell happened to you. I'm waiting."

Heathcliff stares at her, wordless and exhausted.

"I'm waiting." She reassures him, and turns her back, ready to walk away.

"Thanks, ginger. I... may not be all right in the head but... that's much appreciated."

Without any other word, she leavwa him be. Whether it worked or not, only time would tell. Ishmael couldn't do anything but to wait. And if it was necessary, she didn't mind having to knock some sense into him either.

[valtsv]

been thinking about fantasy/scifi rule systems and free will

[seumyo]

the art of loving bakugou katsuki’s name.

You loved his name.

You remembered the first time you had heard it—Bakugou Katsuki. It wasn’t an uncommon name, but it was his. His name was easy to remember, sharp on the tongue, and impossible to forget.

And that’s the funny thing about names, isn’t it? No names were ever truly the same. It could be written with the same characters, spoken in the same pronunciation, but the person behind them made it unique.

His was different.

His was his.

Getting to know Bakugou’s name had been one of the most exciting parts of meeting him. The way it rolled off your tongue the first time you said it out loud. The way he grumbled at you when you got too familiar too quickly, scowling at you and scolding you—telling you to say it right or don’t bother at all.

You grew to whisper it in the quiet of study halls, writing it absentmindedly in the margins of your notes when you were too exhausted to focus. You had yelled it across battlefields when you were still young and reckless, had murmured it in moments of vulnerability when it was just the two of you—when the world felt smaller, safer—because he shared the world with you.

It softened over the years, how you said his name. How he let you call him Katsuki when no one else could.

You loved his name.

Because it had been yours to say back then.

And now, he shared it with someone else.

It was a cruel thing, really. To love a name, to cherish it, to include it in a solemn prayer every night just as you’re about to fall asleep, only to have it slip through your fingers.

The wedding was beautiful. Grand, as expected for someone like Bakugou.

The kind of celebration is fitting for a man who had always been larger than life, someone who fought hard and loved even harder. The bride—his wife—was stunning, radiant in a way that made you feel something you didn’t want to name.

“Do you, Bakugou Katsuki, take your—“

His name sounded different now.

You had imagined this moment before, once, a long time ago. Not like this—never like this.

You forced a smile when they exchanged vows, when they kissed, when the crowd erupted in cheers.

You lifted your glass when it was time for the toasts and laughed when it was appropriate.

You played the part of an old friend, a guest who had long since moved on.

Because today was all about him. Not you.

But when the celebration stretched into the late hours, you found yourself stepping out, out into the quiet of the evening just outside the reception hall. You had too many thoughts and too little drinks acquired at the mini bar to drown out this incessant feeling.

You closed your eyes and whispered his name once, just to hear it. Yours.

“[Last Name]?”

Your breath hitched.

You turned, and there Bakugou Katsuki was—standing at the threshold, half in shadow, looking at you the same way he always had. His tie was slightly undone, and his suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked tired. But more than that, he looked at you like he still knew you.

Like he still saw you.

That version of you that only he met and got to know well.

“Hi,” you greeted. “Congrats on getting married, by the way. All my congratulatory messages are in your gifts.”

He scoffed, though it’s quiet, barely audible.

“Right.”

. . .

His gaze lingered, searching. Searching for something that he will never find.

“You okay?”

“Of course. It’s your wedding day. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The answer was too quick, too . . . prepared.

Bakugou didn’t retaliate right away. Instead, he stepped closer, just enough that you could see the way his brows furrowed, the way his jaw tensed.

“[Last Name]—“

“Katsuki.”

His name left your lips before you could stop it, like muscle memory. Like a prayer.

You had intended to call him by his last name. A formality. A distance.

Bakugou stiffened.

You had spent years getting to know his name, understanding every way it could be spoken. The anger in it, the laughter, the quiet tenderness in the dead of night.

And now, for the first time, you didn’t know how to say it.

Because words shouldn’t hurt, they shouldn’t feel like your throat’s being repeatedly stabbed.

. . .

“I never wanted things to end like they did.”

You let out a slow breath. “Neither did I.”

But it had ended. And you both knew why.

Careers. Distance. Bad timing.

Then it all just got too much to fight for.

Because love, even if it’s meant to fight for, gets exhausting when you can no longer love that person the way you used to.

And no matter the reason, endings were still endings. It can’t be erased and rewritten. It isn’t a story on paper that can be edited with a simple pencil and eraser.

“You ever think about—“

“I don’t.” Not anymore, at least, you wanted to add.

Because thinking about it now—on his wedding day—is like disregarding all that he made for himself after you. Disregarding his wife, the one he vowed to love ‘til hell freezes over and whatnot.

“You should go,” you smiled once you heard his wife calling his name.

He lingered for a second longer, as if debating whether to say more. Then, with a nod, he turned and walked away.

You watched as Bakugou joined his wife, the woman who now shared his name, the name of the person you had loved with every fiber of your being.

The name you thought you’d share with him—and once dreamed to keep as yours.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[cardo-de-comer]

and yet he is not the blind one

[umblrspectrum]

happy solvermas

[greykolla-art]

Hello!

This show gets more intriguing by the minute!

[gascreates]

when aang doesn't explain everything

[noirecheris3]

started reading the no man’s land novelization… feeling particularly twitchy….

[oobbbear]

Made this exactly a year ago since my dca brainrot is back I thought I might share this cropped version of the rpg meme

[gingerswagfreckles]

There is a lot of misinformation going around about Mahmoud Khalil. Please read this if you have read or posted about the case.

Mahmoud Khalil was arrested on March 9th by ICE agents in public, as he was returning to his apartment. His arrest was legal and was conducted in a legal manner. Neither ICE nor the police need a warrant to arrest someone in public, on the street.

Mr. Khalil has not been "dissappeared." He is being held in Central Louisiana ICE Processing Center in Jena, Louisiana. He has been assigned a public defender. Her name is Amy Greene. He has a deportation hearing set for tomorrow (March 12th) with a judge, in which the judge will review the case.

The Department of Homeland Security has accused Mr. Khalil of leading pro Hamas rallies on the Columbia University campus and publishing/passing out pro Hamas fliers that included the Hamas logo. He has not been "charged," because he does not have to be charged under US law. Under US law, a greencard holder has a right to a hearing with a judge to determine whether or not they violated the terms of their greencard. One does not need to be convicted by a jury to be deported for supporting terrorist organizations. This is not a comment on whether or not this law is fair. But it is important to recognize that this is standard and does not violate Mr. Khalil's right to due process.

Also under US Law: one of the conditions of being granted a greencard is that one not be involved in activities that could be argued to be in support of a designated terror organization. Well.

Mahmoud Khalil is an open Hamas supporter and a leader of the Columbia University Apartheid Divestment organization, an explicitly pro Hamas organization that regularly organizes pro Hamas rallies, passes out pro Hamas pamphlets that include inspirational quotes by Hamas terrorists, and organized a "day of mourning" for Yahya Al-Sinwar, the leader of Hamas and the architect of the Oct 7th terror attacks. CUAD has self described it's goal as the "total eradication of Western civilization" through violence. Mr. Khalil has been filmed at multiple of their pro Hamas rallies, which he presumably helped organize as a member, and acted as a negotiator on behalf of CUAD a few days ago (March 6th) during the Columbia student building takeover and bomb threats.

I am not the judge who will be reviewing Mr. Khalil's case. But I find it hard to make an argument that being a leader of an explicitly pro Hamas organization is not supporting terrorism.

Guys, listen. The amount of misinformation I have seen immediately regurgitated about this man, about how his rights have been violated, by fellow Jews, is absurd. Trump is evil. That does not mean we have to make shit up about how an open Hamas supporter is being unfairly attacked. This ENTIRE issue is about whether or not supporting antisemitic terrorism should be considered supporting terrorism. Of course it should be! This is literally just equal application of the law, something we have gotten so used to not happening when it comes to Jews that we are now making up reasons to defend someone who's rights were not violated and openly wants to kill us.

There are so many. SO MANY illegal and unethical arrests and deportations happening every single day. Why on earth is Jumblr deciding to go to bat for this man of all people, and act like THIS CASE, of all cases, is one that needs to be fought against? Why are we acting like this case, of all cases, is some flagrant violation of the law that should be used to highlight how evil Trump is?

I'm sorry but have we lost our minds? Literally nothing about this man's arrest was illegal and his right to due process has not been violated in any way. The ONLY reason this is getting attention is that people believe SO strongly that they should have the right to organize rallies in support of a terrorist organization that's stated goal is to kill the Jews. That's it! That's the only issue. Not even his lawyers are claiming there was some violation of this man's right to due process. This issue is ENTIRELY about whether or not it's "free speech" for someone who agreed not to support terrorism as a condition of being granted a greencard, should have the right to support terrorism specifically if it's terrorism directed at Jews. That's it! That's it. Please. Please PLEASE. Can we focus on the ICE raids happening at the school my roommate works at? Can we stop going along with this violently antisemitic delusion that the legal deportation case against a pro terrorism rally organizer is the ideal case to prove how unfair and illegal these deportations are? What the fuck?

[bowelfly]

Hi I love Brother Ignatz

[veryluckyclovers]

[tk-duveraun]

PIDW future AU -

SY is born into the modern world, only its time having passed from PIDW canon. Demons still live dude by side with humans, but it's all terribly mundane.

And the population increase means that even though the percentage of cultivators is any the same, there's a lot less spiritual energy to go around so Foundation Establishment is seen as the "peak" and Golden Core Cultivators might as well be gods.

LBH is still the emperor in name, but he's long since fucked off or home into hibernation or something. Few people believe he's both real and still in this world.

SY's family pay more than average respects to the emperor (they're wealthy and would like to stay that way thank you!) but SY personally doesn't see the point. LBH is a dead beat at this point

He's still a recluse NEET, still gets way too invested in weird webnovels, still has a one way feud with Airplane Shooting Towards the sky, whose latest disaster is a fictional retelling of LBH's backstory so bad and tawdry he better hope the emperor is gone for good

But then one day in the capital, the State museum announces the opening of the Beloved exhibit. What is it? Well, recent excavations of one of the many abandoned imperial palaces found a staggering collection of paintings, statues and other artifacts depicting or relating to a single figure, with the only title being the ancient imperial word for beloved.

SY doesn't super care, the emperor had countless wives over the years and while the museum announcement says they don't know the identity of Beloved, it's confirmed not one of the big 3.

A Liu Mingyan exhibit might tempt him, but this is nothing of interest.

...

Until his phone starts blowing up.

Occasionally he's cameo'd in his little sister's influencer videos and HER feed has blown up because apparently Beloved is a dead ringer for SY.

She begs him to go to the exhibit with her. With their family's money, she's already gotten special permission to film in the exhibit hall! Please!

So SY finds himself standing in front of a larger than life painting of...

No one notices the long-haired demon man sitting on the bench in the middle of the exhibit hall, who had been staring at the painting, switch his gaze to SY.

"Caught you, Shizun"

[lucabyte]

i CANNOT stress enough how incompatible the themes of these two pieces of media are. i promise my media literacy ability is actually good im well aware that these character mappings are absolutely nothing. that said. play with me in this space. in this sopping wet miserable space. its bad luck to kill a piou piou

original screenshots (and hypnosis 1904) for reference

[awkwardbakugou]

i'd like to take him for a ride-

[icicleteeth]

In From The Cold themed arrangement for Kayla 🕯