#had this in my drafts for over a week

[surreal-duck]

@midoyuzuweek day 6 | angst / ghosts

ghostic au yet again !! trying to figure out the lil ghost effect was a bit of a hassle but i like how it came out :]

[breadbartz]

the. the worms :((

[hana-bobo-finch]

new headcanon. zasp touched a bug zapper as a child because he was a little prick and hasn’t been the same since

[crystallizsch]

eepy eepy

[paradoxbeta]

I'm curious, how would your Suns design look during more serious situations, such as one of the Spearmaster broadcasts?

something like this

and now for a (slightly long) addendum: i know i depict SRS as jokey and kooky, but when it comes to not shitposting and actual characterization, i have Thoughts and Feelings about them. the entire story, they just want to do what they hope will help the people around them, even though it all ends up horribly, HORRIBLY wrong. that's tragic, and it has my interest. considering the heaviness (and intrigue) of SRS’s storyline, for me to only ever depict them as a goofball be way too shallow of me, and unfaithful to their canon characterization.

so to answer your question: they hold themselves together, of course, but the shame, regret, and embarrassment is still evident.

[brawlingdiscontent]

[roscoehamiltons]

LHFW 2024 graphics: Azerbaijan Grand Prix redux (original)

[vynnyal]

This is a pretty good point in the wip to share this, methinks :]

Map part for the hole dwelling map, starring... Not my ocs! I wanted to use ocs, but I don't have any-- so I just used the characters from a fic I was reading at the time 😂

Turns out, the symbolism was so much fun to twist into the 11 seconds I had to work with, I ended up going way more complex than I meant to. If you wanna read the fic this was based on, please do!! And tell the author I said hi! :D

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

caswen headcanons because i don't have the mental space to write them a whole fic yet

they go on a lot of creating dates (pottery classes, mug painting, cooking, etc.), not that they're necessarily good at most of them

ricky loves slushies and ej hates them. the closest ej’s ever getting to one is kissing ricky after he's had one

they both had to work really hard to unlearn their skewed perspectives on relationships (because both of their parents were not good examples)

ricky physically latches onto ej every chance he gets and his favorite way of doing so is hanging off of ej's shoulders 

they like drastically different things on their pizza 

^i can also see ricky liking every topping under the sun and ej only liking cheese, possibly also sausage when he feels like shaking it up

ej loves resting his chin in ricky’s hair 

ricky once tried to teach ej how to skateboard but ej has no sense of balance outside of sports so now he just watches in amazement when ricky skateboards in front of him

ricky found pictures from when ashlyn painted ej's nails and begged ej to repaint them 

^once he was finally persuaded, he painted them ricky's favorite colors and surprised ricky with them the next time they saw each other

when ricky realized he liked ej, he gave him little trinkets and small shiny rocks then would run away

^ej found it really endearing once his initial confusion went away and bought a shelf specifically for the gifts

^even way after they started dating, whenever ricky finds a cool rock, he gives it to ej 

when they hold hands while walking, ricky likes to aggressively swings their arms back and forth 

going to karaoke was one of their first dates

they have matching customized guitar picks 

ej immediately hit it off with mike 

sometime before they started dating, ricky called ej “pretty boy” about five times too many and ej jokingly called him out on it. ricky tried to backtrack but that led ej accusing ricky of calling him ugly. and even though ej stressed that he was just joking, ricky stayed in a state of embarrassment for almost a week 

neither of them can sit still for too long so movie nights include switching seating/cuddling positions every like ten minutes

once, while on a date at a fair, ricky won a bunch of temporary tattoos packs and whenever ricky wants to put one on a hard to reach spot, ej does it for him 

^ej also did it for him when ricky first put one on because he was too impatient to hold the washcloth for the right amount of time 

^ricky also gave some tattoos to ej so they could match

ricky likes when ej grows out his hair because it makes it easier to play with

they do couples costumes every year for halloween

ricky can peel oranges really fast and he also likes to feel needed so ej only eats them when he's with ricky so ricky can peel them for him

they both tell the dumbest jokes ever and they're the only ones that find any of them funny (this is literally canon)

[evocatiio]

It’s crazy to me how everyone’s obsessed with the Corrie milfs rn because Sukeve is giving perfect chemistry, writing and acting and yet it’s crickets like what! The wedding alone had fed me for the month lol

Oh boy,,,,,, I'll try not to rant incoherently lmao

HOWEVER.

no offence to anybody watching the corrie milfs (carla is fun!) and all positive wlw rep on british tv is always a good thing, but honestly I find myself quite baffled at their popularity especially in comparison to how suki and eve have never quite escaped the confines of british twitter tbh. I mean am I biased bc I kinda spent the majority of 2024 completely swept up in how insanely groundbreaking sukieve are and with as you say a feast of Fantastic performances (in another life balvinder sopal is at least a bafta winner that woman is a force of nature with the biggest most romantic brown eyes on british television) .... WELL YH, but I'm also objectively right bc why is the average straight viewer rooting for them more than wlw enjoyers online always begging for butchfemme rep????hmmmmn 🤨

anyway idk I've been giving it the benefit of the doubt y'know maybe Suki's character arc is too heavy maybe the whole kana debacle burned people Bad and maybe no one wants to sit through the massive soap backlog of episodes and yeah was everyone objectively wrong? yes absolutely, but I still thought whatever it's fine i suppose it's their loss.

Then two relatively femme white women get together with barely a quarter of sukeve's development and apparently everybody can't get enough 🙄 imagine my surprise.

tldr; if y'all could stop gagging over white wlw for long enough to sit down and experience a very devastatingly romantic three year bollywood-esque reverse lesbian romeo and juliet slowburn with a gorgeous period drama coded desi milf with a cunty as hell nose ring and a very lovely butch with a heart of gold (played by an honest to god irl lesbian!) I promise you'll experience some of the best lesbians ever 😌👆🏾

[basu-shokikita]

Dethklok's reaction to knowing they're gonna die

So here I am on my bullshit once again. Just wanted to talk about that one scene from AOTD 'cause it's been haunting me lately.

First things first, the way Nathan's expression contorts with fear upon realizing that he might have fucked up, and now they're all gonna die.

Immediately Pickles' breath hitches up as he tries to confirm the information. Nathan is not any more optimistic the second time.

Then this: Pickles tries to hug Toki, who barely reacts, standing very still instead. Now this one stuck with me, why? Because Pickles is very obviously trying to keep up his 'motherly' role be there for the youngest one. Because of Toki's attitude towards Skwisgaar during AOTD, Pickles can only have concluded that the little guy wants to be physically comforted. So, that's what he does. He goes in for the hug, because Toki must be really scared of death, right?

Now I don't doubt Pickles' good intentions, but I think he's also projecting a little. He's the one having the most visceral reaction to what Nathan said. He's upset, he's terrified, he wants out. He wants to be comforted but how can he be when he's the one supporting everyone? He can't break down, he's been the backbone this whole time. So he clings to Toki, and feigns a protective role when really all he wants is to be protected right now.

Then you have these two. Skwisgaar is hunched, head hanging low, barely showing emotion. Just like Toki, he is shocked.

Murderface is avoiding sadness as ever, venting instead with his favorite projection device: Planet Piss. He's not sad about dying, oh no, he's mad he never finished Planet Piss! And he's gonna be a loser for it and that sucks! But he's not sad, he's just angry, obviously.

Skwisgaar doesn't even try to be a smartass or sarcastic. He's just defeated, it's not just them that are gonna die, everyone will. Everyone will die and nothing will matter. Nothing will have mattered at all because they will all be gone. Definitely think it's interesting that the guy with the biggest ego in Dethklok is the one thinking about how it's not just them that will meet their end, but the rest of humanity as well.

Murderface then is less mad, and more like relieved. He won't be a loser and he won't be seen as a loser because no one will be around to judge him. Speaks a lot about his fear of rejection and constant attempts to fit in. There's no one to fit in with if they're all dead.

And then we get to this, this. The callback to the infamous 'Sees you in Vallhaska' scene. This little thing right here drives me insane because, I can't believe they referenced to that scene, and because, god, the context is so much more different now.

Back then it was just the two of them, about to be slashed by MMA. And that's when Skwisgaar turns to Toki and tells him he'll see him in Valhalla. But it was just the two of them. (Important to note, though: in the season 2 finale Skwisgaar and Pickles are stuck in a similar situation but Skwisgaar doesn't initiate any interaction, and it's Pickles instead who does it, wanting to confess he managed to suck himself off before dying.)

But here is the whole band, the whole band is about to die. Scratch that, humanity as a whole is gonna vanish.

And Toki, right after Pickles tried to comfort him and he didn't react, Toki walks to Skwisgaar. He walks to Skwisgaar and only addresses him. And he says that he'll see him in the afterlife. He doesn't tell this to Dethklok, he doesn't even tell this to Pickles who just tried to support him. He doesn't even say it to Murderface who was talking to Skwisgaar just a few seconds ago. No, he says it to Skwisgaar only.

Toki tells Skwisgaar that they'll hang out everyday for eternity. And there's most likely at attempt at cheering Skwisgaar up, or even cheer himself up, or both, really. But he doesn't look thrilled about it either, he doesn't want things to end up like this. So it ends up coming as a (death) sentence, rather than comfort. And that's what Skwisgaar senses too, he knows Toki is reluctant and so is he because, fuck, is it really gonna end like this? And he's mad but so helpless too that he asks if Toki's implying they're going to hell.

And it's such a cold thing to say for sure but let's be honest the way Toki worded it didn't sound great. Not that he can be blamed really, their situation is so fucked up anyway.

But the most glaring thing about it all for me is the acknowledgment Toki has of their bond. Rather than wanting or wishing to stay with Skwisgaar forever, it's more like he knows, he feels in his heart that that's what's going to happen to them. And maybe it's not the best situation but at least they'll have each other. And that's just incredible to me.

Because back then, Skwisgaar spoke to Toki when it was just the two of them about to meet their end. Here, Toki is choosing to address Skwisgaar only when they're all about to kiss their lives goodbye. It wasn't just circumstance back then, nor is it a coincidence now, these two are tied in some way that goes beyond regular life and death, and they know it. And in a way, it's not really their choosing. It's just the way things are.

[mangofresca]

cloudburst

He taps his fingers when he’s bored.

Not that Spain blames him. Not that Spain isn’t also just as bored, dulled, yearning and longing and aching for the willowed shade of broken sunlight through blooming Juniper trees, warmed by humid air and clouds so soft he could pull them from the skies, if only he had the will to lift a hand to them, to try.

His boss will likely scold him for not paying attention, but Spain can’t be bothered today, too unfocused to listen to off-handed bickering made worse through obligation, not when he can still hear the thumping of rain on the roof, pattering against the windows.

Not when he can watch Romano skate his nails against the table, pressing the soft of his fingertips up and down as if he were writing something, composing something, following the tune of a melody only half-constructed and–

Spain sits up a little straighter, squinting.

Romano keeps his eyes half-lidded and hazy, looking for all the world like he is two seconds away from drifting to sleep, but Spain can see the way his fingers move, curled, as if cradling the neck of an invisible guitar, other hand almost imperceptibly pressing down into the table, plucking notes Spain can almost hear being strummed aloud, if only he tried hard enough to listen.

Spain watches, head propped on an arm that fell asleep about half an hour ago, too lost and transfixed on the image of Romano shirking his duties in favor of– of writing, maybe, or composing, creating something Spain is already desperate to hear, to mold into his life in the way he molds everything Romano does, every noise Romano makes.

He’s out of his seat seconds before they’ve officially been dismissed, but Romano doesn’t notice, still in that world of tabletop timbres and notes unwritten, of hands born to cultivate.

“What are you playing?” Spain asks, and he smiles when Romano startles, eyes widening and fingers dropping, forming into fists atop pages with not one word written on them.

Not that Spain blames him. His own are the same, after all.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Romano snaps, cheeks ruddy with caught-out indignation, and Spain knows he was right, that he’d formed himself an audience for a performer who didn’t know he was being watched.

“You were playing something,” he says, beaming when Romano collects his papers with more stumbled force than necessary, always too combative, too cagey with his vulnerabilities.

Romano huffs, says nothing, brushing past Spain with shoulders that are a little too tense for comfort.

Spain follows, whistling, doing his best to find the cadence of whatever rhythm Romano had been tapping against the table.

It takes two months for Romano to bring it up again, and when he does, it’s by dropping down next to Spain in the sand, feet and ankles damp with dusk-sweetened sea foam, hands steady and curled around a guitar he had always insisted he rarely used, that sits too comfortably in his lap to be anything less than adored.

“Don’t say anything,” is all Romano says, and Spain can only bring himself to smile, arms pressed atop his knees as he feels the kiss of broken waves and clumped seaweed against his toes. He’s more than content to wait, would always be content to wait if it meant Romano pressing himself into the space at Spain’s side, frown on his lips like he’s shy, wary.

Romano shoots him a look—I mean it, bastard!—but Spain only rests his chin on his arms, watching with slowly blinking eyes and a smile he is sure is horrifically besotted.

Romano doesn’t look at him when he plays, head tilted down so his hair falls across his forehead, curling around his eyebrows and the rounds of his ears. Spain bites back the urge to brush it away, and when Romano begins to hum, the softest accompaniment to a tune Spain has never heard, Spain can feel his heartbeat in the palms of his hands, in the urge to mold himself against Romano’s back, to be close and close and close.

Still, he does not move, waiting until Romano’s fingers pluck the final string, mumbling hums and soft breaths petering out until the only noise left is the swell of the ocean and the rustle of air through grains of sand and surf.

Spain blinks—once, twice—and Romano clears his throat, forefinger and thumb drawing absentminded patterns across the guitar’s body.

“I wrote it,” he says, voice low, deep, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been working on it for…fuck, I don’t know how long. A while, I guess. Mostly when I mi–”

He flushes pink, voice cutting off in a choke, and Spain sits up immediately, thinks he knows, and his delight is immeasurable, second only to grand, enamored infatuation.

“When you what?” he asks, because how can he not when Romano is looking like that, like he’s already cursing himself for speaking, as if Spain wouldn’t lay himself and his heart and his soul bare just to find the words humanity hasn’t created yet.

“Forget it.” Romano is scowling, bristling in that way he gets when he speaks before thinking, when Spain is close enough to hear him—when he’s paying attention—and Spain couldn’t forget this if he was given a millennium, if he was given an eternity and longer.

“When you what?” he asks again, because he has to, has to, would be a fool not to, would die, maybe, if he doesn’t. “When you…miss me?”

Romano shoots him a look so blistering and venomous that Spain knows he’s right, knows immediately and without question he’s right, and his hand is around Romano’s wrist before Romano even has the chance to stand, to run, because of course he’d run, and Spain can’t bear the weight of solitude right now, anyway.

“You wrote a song for me.”

Romano splutters, snarls. “It is not– I didn’t fucking write it for you!”

Spain could kiss him, wants to, wants to. “I can’t believe you wrote a song for me!”

“Are you even listening to me? I just said I didn’t–”

He’s red, so red, every shade the most beautiful color Spain has ever seen, and he can’t find it within himself to temper the need to touch, to be close and closer still, to kiss, fingers following the curve of ocean-misted waves caught on dark eyelashes, tangling in knots around his knuckles.

“My song,” he insists, lips light as they brush the warm of Romano’s mouth.

“Not what I sai–”

Spain swallows the words he knows are only half-hearted, can feel the truth in the press of the guitar into his sternum, in the hand fisted in his shirt, in the lips humming against his.

[nina-ya]

GOOD MORNING HAPPY FRIDAY TO YOU ALL!!!! ITS THE END OF THE WEEK WE PUSHED THROUGH ILY ALL 💞💞💞

[shepcdr]

psa!!! i have moved to a new blog that i am currently keeping off the radar/off of tumblr recommended -- i worked out a system where i'm slowly following back the mutuals i have here once i finish writing the drafts i owe to y'all. which i feel is making it very nice and low pressure for me 😌

once i've whittled down my draft count, i'll switch the urls back over so that i'm at this url again... so no huge rebrand or anything, and it'll be back to business as usual! i expect it to be a process of another month or two, so for any of my mutuals i haven't followed just yet: if i've got one of your drafts cooking, i promise i'm getting around to it! and for any new followers, that just means a potential delay on me getting around to looking at your blogs until i'm officially moved over.

after the move, i am going to be more selective going forward in the sense that i want to keep a cleaner dash, as well as to be actively plotting/building dynamics/writing with mutuals. "writing" is last on that list because i will never judge reply speeds, ic or ooc!! i do however want to have some intial ooc back and forth, a foundation to build narratives upon, and some active interest in building character dynamics/rships.

i'll expand on all this when i make the move official!

[trebuchet151]

Your OC through memes

cleaning out the drafts and remembered I got tagged in this forever ago and completely forgot oops lmaooooo

Thanks for the tag @kidhellion!

Since I took so damn long to do this I've found WAYYYY too many memes for Corey so putting them under a cut

[the-voldsoy]

I am soooo normal about Remnants (<-lying) and I listened to the final without jumping up and down (<-lying even more)

Anyways. I am having so many thoughts and so many things are clicking neatly into place so let's do another debrief! As always I could absolutely be wrong on any counts so take everything with a grain of salt. Spoilers ahead!

To make it easier to understand, I will refer to Edward/Teddy/Perry/etc as "Edwin". The First and Last Place will be shortened to “TFALP”.

First let's start with the easy things with "simple" answers: the codes!

The morse code at the end of the episodes reads in it's entirety (and attempted punctiation)(I did not decipher this one, credit to Judas on discord):

Reshelve or discard? The question is not what it may first appear to be, if indeed it appears to be anything at all. After all, what can such judgements show beyond a reflection of those who judge, and in that dark mirror what of ourselves do we see reflected back in the eyes of this thing beholding us?

Discard means to burn the remnant, so that it crumbles quicker and the soul is returned to the cycle of life and reborn quicker. Reshelve means that an object is kept for longer in the First and Last Place -- maybe specifically in the Apprentice's "room", maybe not. But eventually the reshelved items crumble to dust just the same, and the souls in them are reborn too. Ultimately, it is a pointless question. Everything meets the same fate in the end. It is just for the sake of sentimentality.

The question was posed as a way for Sir to better understand A, too. In turn, A began to learn more about himself by seeing Sir's reactions to him (and also in other remnants talking about him).

Now the capitalised letters in the descriptions! The first half, when separated, read:

He more or less has totally gone to dust / I am still in here

I believe this is referring first to A, leaving "dust" everywhere he goes; the second is A -- or Edwin? -- speaking, showing that he is still there, despite the multiple iterations and memory wipes. Or maybe that he is still inside TFALP, trapped by Sir. This code being intertwined in this way could speak to the two of them being interconnected deeper than either of them realise.

And the second half when put through a Vigenère cipher, reads:

Is this how you break down a soul, or is this how you build a god?

Turns out it was both.

Now, just general information. I think the easiest way I can think to do this is if I go through my theories from last time and correct some, and try to go from there :) 

The Apprentice has a remnant, and is slowly crumbling like one.

The Apprentice is being kept by Sir because Sir did not know how to judge A. Sir does not know why it is A, and thinks it a mistake. A is empty, in a way. Sir does seem to want A there, though, but doesn't know exactly how to keep him. Like holding sand in cupped hands. Or dust, I suppose.

"It frightened you to be known, so you made sure you never were."

Sir also does not really know why he is there or how he got there or what he is. This makes me think that this cycle of reincarnation has happened so many times before that maybe they did know how they both got there, once upon a time, but they've since forgotten

There might be an external force that put both of them there, though. It's too early to tell :)

Sir and A have effectively switched places; as Sir became more whole and human and feeling, A became more hollow, losing pieces of himself

This is a story about cycles. Reincarnation, trauma, families. Even the clue on the website, "It is always a day away". I am soooo normal about this

The dust is made of A and other remnants. All remnants crumble to dust eventually, discarding just speeds it up. A attempted to forcefully discard himself when he threw himself into the fire in e15 (?).

What is the 'veil'? Is that the gap between life and TFALP?

All of the remnants that A reads are now confirmed to be specifically about him.

Sir was TFALP.

Perhaps Sir was a God. Who’s to say? Certainly not him.

It is interesting how Sir talked about the two of them and TFALP. They are metaphysical, I suppose. But everything they – or Apprentice, at least – see is a conjuration of their mind, made of what they expect to see there. I’m not sure what to do with that information yet.

I honestly forgot the tagline of the show was “A man of many faces, a story of many fates”. Oh boy it certainly is

“The Apprentice soon discovers that when we judge others, we often expose truths about ourselves.” - quote from the RQ site. ← more evidence for the morse code and reshelve/discard thing

I do wonder if the heart-shaped rock will ever come up again. It crumbled to dust when Apprentice touched it, suggesting that it was very old, so probably not. 

I do wonder to what extent the dust is sentient. Is it moving because it still has a “soul” or mind of its own, or because A is willing it to do these things? Or is it only the dust that came from A, and it is still connected to him in some way?

Edwin Peterson. He goes by many names (which ones and in what episodes can be found in my handy-dandy spreadsheet. It’s even colour-coded!) But now we know what is him and what is not, at least. He is the Apprentice, first and foremost.

-> We also know why his eyes are different colours sometimes now! He wore contacts, and every new identity was something he made up to remain unknown.

I cannot get into the rest of the remnants’ storyline right now though because it is not something that can be described fully in one sitting. Eventually I will maybeee make a timeline, but that is a job for another day. 

This little remnant still bugs me. What does “the mark” mean !!