#hes not having an existential crisis he just looks like this

[treba-neco-napise]

i am losing my mind

okay but what if the fourth wall is just this sort of advanced awareness of what's beyond your senses and that you're just playing a part in a story some guy made up so while wade dealt with that ages ago, logan wakes up after the explosion not only to still being alive with naked sweaty tits but also being hit with sudden existential crisis like it's a truck. he's just staring at the ceiling in silence as wade starts mumbling jokes and slowly gets worried about logan because he won't even tell him to shut up. he finally gathers the strength to get up and goes "okay i really hope you didn't die on me again-"

he sees the weirded out look on his face and goes "ohh, you just entered advanced philosophy with focus on existential dread in fictional characters, yeah that's gonna hurt babygirl."

and then logan gives the ceiling a hard look like he wants to blast through it with lasers and yells "ARE YOU NOT FUCKING ENTERTAINED!!??"

yeah the realization that all the shit he had to deal with was for someone's funsies was hard to deal with.

but from that day on, logan will talk to the audience from time to time. not as much, he's not that chatty. most of the time it's just looking at the camera like he's on the office when wade fucks something up. sometimes when he's in a particularly good mood, he'll make a short snarky comment because wade rubbed off on him. that thing where he yells at the audience to turn their fucking phones off? canon. he did that. i'm pretty sure at least once he told someone off for eating popcorn in the middle of an emotionally tense scene, like can you fucking not for five seconds asshole!? we're having a moment here

sometimes they'll argue in the middle of doing stuff like they're podcast hosts. best and worst part? wade makes him start saying "chat".

Ive probably said this before but fukit I'll say this again

Logan and Wade definitely got their atoms mixed in the reactor and I wonder if Logan can break the fourth wall a bit too now?

Like after the events of the film, Logan can kinda feel or hear the fourth wall but doesn't know what it is till he sees Wade talk to the wall again, except, he can see the audience for a moment

"what the fuck!?"

"yes?"

"is that what you see when you talk to a wall?"

"GASP! You can see the fourth wall!?"

"the what?"

I like to imagine that Logan can barely perceive the fourth wall unless Wade is actively engaging with it in front of him.

And at first he just feels like he's going crazy or something, eventually he comes to accept it and is just on edge a bit because he's hyper aware that he's being constantly watched even if he can't see them. Eventually he's just used to it and then suddenly connects the dots of what Wade explained before, and realizes that he's had 0 real control over his life because some asshole "gods" in a different universe created him and wrote his backstory.

So naturally he gets up and starts cursing out and ranting at a wall happening whoever decided to torture him half his life gets an ear full.

"peanut you ok? Your talking to a wall?"

"yea that fourth wall shit, I'm telling these assholes how fucked they are"

"Logan, the fourth wall is behind you"

"FUCK!"

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 + 𝗏𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗀𝖺𝗓; "𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇."

it was a quiet evening, the streetlights casting their soft glow on the corner chippy where the two of you always met. you hummed a happy tune as you walked up to your usual table, the heavy scent of fried chicken wafting in the air as you passed kyle his own healthy portion of food.

“i told you, you didn’t have to pay,” kyle said, his tone more exasperated than stern.

“and i told you i like taking care of you,” you teased, your lips quirking into a playful smile as you nudged the box toward him. “besides, don’t act like you don’t enjoy it. you’ve never once said no to free chicken and chips.”

kyle rolled his eyes, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “it’s food. who says no to food?” he countered, reaching for a chip but avoiding your gaze.

“oh, sure,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “because it has nothing to do with the company or the fact you keep tagging along to my weird outings, like that experimental art exhibition last month.”

he groaned, though the flush rising on his cheeks gave him away. “you dragged me to that. i was just bein’ polite.”

you leaned forward, grinning. “polite? darling, you wanted to stay longer and even asked about the ‘existential crisis phase’ of the artist.”

his laugh was soft, and his shoulders relaxed as he shook his head. “maybe I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost in all that pretentious nonsense.”

you grinned, nudging him lightly. “face it, you like my taste in food and art.”

his expression softened, the banter fading into a moment of quiet warmth. “maybe i just like you,” he said, the words almost too quiet to catch.

your teasing smile faltered slightly, your heart giving a small, unexpected jolt. “good,” you replied softly, pushing the box of food even closer to him. “now eat before it gets cold.”

he sighed, shaking his head, but you caught the slight tug at the corner of his mouth, the smile he always tried to hide when you fussed over him.

as the two of you dug into your food, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—school memories, funny neighborhood stories—but it wasn’t long before the air shifted. kyle grew quieter, his usual animated demeanor dimming as he pushed his chips around the paper.

“everything alright?” you asked gently, leaning forward.

he hesitated, glancing at you, then back at his food. “it’s just… mum’s got these debts, y’know? they’ve been piling up for a while now, and…” he trailed off, his jaw tightening as he tried to swallow the frustration bubbling under the surface. “i can’t just leave her with all that. i’ve been thinkin’ about enlisting soon, but i don’t know if i can go until she’s sorted.”

your chest ached at the weight in his voice. he was always like this—shouldering burdens without complaint, looking out for everyone else before himself.

“have you talked to her about it?” you asked softly.

he nodded. “she says she’ll manage, but i can see it’s weighing on her. i don’t want to leave her struggling.”

you set your food down, your expression growing serious as you leaned closer. “kyle, you shouldn’t have to carry this all on your own. you’re trying to build a future for yourself—she’d want that for you too.”

he chuckled, wrinkling his nose, though there was no humor in it. “a future? come on, love. not everyone’s got what you’ve got.”

the words stung—not because he meant them to—but because you knew he was right. your family’s wealth was a chasm between you, one you’d always tried to bridge. but this wasn’t about money to you; it was about him.

“if there’s anything i can do to help, please tell me,” you said softly, your tone careful yet earnest.

kyle froze, his fork halting mid-air before clattering onto his plate. he looked up at you, disbelief flickering in his dark eyes, quickly replaced by something sharper—anger.

“help?” he repeated, his voice rising as he set his jaw. “what exactly are you offering, huh? to swoop in and pay off my mum’s debts like it’s pocket change to you?”

you blinked, startled by the sharpness in his tone. “kyle, I didn’t mean—”

he pushed his chair back with a scrape, standing abruptly and towering over the small table. “don’t pretend like you don’t mean it,” he snapped, his voice dripping with frustration. “you’re always treatin’ me, always payin’ for everything, and now you’re what? gonna save the day and solve all my problems with your bloody money?”

“that’s not fair,” you said, voice trembling as you sunk a little deeper into your seat.

“fair?” he barked out a humorless laugh, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “what’s fair about any of this? you sit there, livin’ this perfect life, actin’ all kind and generous like you don’t see the rest of us strugglin’. i don’t need your pity, alright?”

“it’s not pity!” you protested, your voice rising for the first time. “it’s me caring about you. about your mum. you told me you didn’t know how to handle it, so i thought—”

“well, don’t think!” he cut you off, his words laced with frustration. “i don’t need you to fix this for me. i need to prove i can handle it myself. i need—” he stopped, running a hand through his hair and exhaling sharply, his chest rising and falling with the force of his emotions. “i need to do this on my own,” he muttered, his voice quieter but no less tense.

you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest, caught between understanding his pain and feeling the sting of his words. “kyle,” you said softly, trying one last time to reach him, “you’re not alone in this. please don't push me away.”

but he wouldn’t meet your gaze. instead, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and turned toward the door, his movements quick and jerky. “just… don’t,” he said, his voice strained. “i can’t—” he shook his head, unable to finish the thought, before storming out of the shop without another word.

the door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the small shop and startling the worker at the register. at a nearby table, two teenagers exchanged wide-eyed looks before pretending to focus on their phones, clearly caught eavesdropping on the heated moment.

you sighed heavily, your gaze falling to the half-eaten plates of chicken and chips, now cold and unappetizing. the warmth and easy familiarity of earlier felt like a distant memory, replaced by the bitter sting of kyle’s anger and the helplessness coursing through you.

somewhere out there, kyle was wrestling with his pride, his fear, and his feelings for you, but tonight, the weight of it all had created a wall you couldn’t break through. for now, all you could do was hope he’d let you in before it was too late.

. . .

kyle stood in the small, cozy living room of his mother’s flat, the news still fresh on his tongue. “i’ve done it,” he announced, his voice steady but tight with unspoken emotion. “i’ve enlisted.”

his mother glanced up from the kitchen table, her glasses perched low on her nose as she worked on a crossword puzzle. at his words, she set down her pen, her eyes softening with pride. “i’m proud of you, my love,” she said warmly, though a flicker of something unreadable passed over her face—concern, perhaps, or the quiet weight of a mother’s worry.

on the nearby couch, his sister sat upside down, legs draped over the backrest while a glossy magazine rested in her hands. she arched an eyebrow at him, barely looking up from her reading. “really goin’ through with it, huh?” she remarked, her tone teasing but edged with curiosity.

kyle nodded, his chest swelling with a mix of pride and trepidation. “yeah. training starts in a couple of weeks.”

his sister gave a noncommittal hum, flipping a page but glancing at him sideways. “guess we’ll see if you can handle it.”

their mother shot her a look, though her expression softened quickly as she turned back to kyle. “you’ll do great,” she added. “i know you will.”

then, she hesitated for a moment. her warm smile shifted slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. “actually, there’s something i need to tell you,” she said, her tone careful.

“what is it?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“the debts… they’ve been taken care of.” his mother revealed cautiously, her hands folded in front of her.

kyle blinked, confusion turning to disbelief. “what are you talking about? how?”

his sister shifted awkwardly and sat up, glancing between them before slipping your name. “she paid them,” she admitted.

“she—” kyle’s voice sharpened, his jaw tightening. “she? you’re telling me she went behind my back after i told her not to?!”

his mother’s face hardened, her tone firm as she cut him off. “she didn’t go behind anyone’s back. she came to me, kyle. talked it through like an adult.”

“she didn’t need to—”

“and neither did you!” she shot back, her voice rising. “she didn’t pay it all off and leave us beholden, kyle. we made an agreement. a repayment plan. something i can manage, with no handouts. she insisted on it.”

kyle’s anger faltered, confusion flashing in his eyes. “a repayment plan?”

his mother nodded, her voice softening but still resolute. “she took what you said to heart, kyle. she knew you didn’t want charity. this isn’t about that. it’s about lifting the weight off my shoulders so you wouldn’t go off into the world carrying it.”

kyle took a shaky step back, his mind racing. “she still had no right—”

“don’t you dare say that,” she interrupted, her voice cracking with emotion. “she had every right to care about us. and i agreed to it. i wanted to, because she offered me a way out that didn’t make me feel small.”

kyle’s chest tightened, the anger and frustration warring with the truth of her words. his mother, his proud and strong mother, didn’t look diminished. if anything, she looked relieved—lighter than she had in years.

“i just…” kyle swallowed hard, his hands clenching at his sides. “it’s not how i wanted this to go. i was supposed to take care of it. take care of you.”

“and you are,” she said softly. “you’ve been doing it for years, kyle. more than you should’ve at your age. she just… she gave us a way to breathe. for all of us. and if you’d stop being so stubborn, you’d see that she did it because she cares about you.”

his sister chimed in, her voice teasing but warm. “she’s always cared, you know. you’re just blind.”

kyle scrubbed a hand over his face, his heart pounding. it stung, knowing you’d taken on this burden despite his protests, but it wasn’t charity. it was a gesture—a compromise. one that showed you’d actually listened to his frustrations.

“i need to talk to her,” he muttered, his voice low but determined.

his mother smiled faintly, nodding her head. “that’d be a good start, love. maybe try thanking her this time.”

. . .

in the end, he didn’t get the chance to apologize directly.

you had left for a month-long cruise with your parents shortly after his outburst, and by the time you returned, he had already shipped out for military training. still, the two of you managed to talk it over in your own way. there were no grand gestures or face-to-face conversations, just quiet words exchanged through texts and the occasional call.

for a few years, your connection endured through these messages—fleeting moments stolen between his deployments and your relentless schedule. kyle’s military career kept him constantly on the move, often shrouded in discretion, while your ascent to inheriting your parents’ corporate empire kept you tethered to boardrooms and international flights. every time you made plans to meet, they fell through, derailed by his operational secrecy or your last-minute travel obligations. still, the bond between you remained steady, each exchange a small anchor to the friendship neither of you wanted to lose.

it was his sister however, who finally pushed him to close the gap.

“you’re home for a month,” she said pointedly, older and used to his antics. “you’ve got no excuses this time.”

kyle groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s not that simple, alright? she’s got her own life now. busy as hell—she probably doesn’t even have time to—”

“stop,” she interrupted with a sharp look. “she’s been asking about you, kyle. she still cares. you’re the one holding back.”

his sister’s words struck a nerve, but they were the push he needed. the next day, armed with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of chicken and chips, he found himself standing outside your upscale apartment building, heart hammering in his chest. the doorman, a wiry older man kyle remembered from his teenage years, gave him a knowing grin.

“been a while,” he said, nodding toward the building. “still carrying things around for her, eh?”

kyle chuckled, though his nerves prickled at the edges. “some things don’t change, mr. vance.”

the doorman smirked. “you're in luck, she should be here any time now. she’s always got a busy schedule.”

kyle was about to respond when the purr of an engine drew his attention. a sleek, unmistakably expensive car rolled up to the curb, its polished surface reflecting the golden hues of the sun. his grip on the bouquet tightened as he saw you step out, radiant in a stunning dress that seemed to catch the light just right.

but what froze him in place wasn’t just how beautiful you looked—it was the man who hurried around to your side, offering his hand as you stepped down.

the stranger, dressed sharply and clearly brimming with confidence, lingered too long in kyle’s eyes, his gaze on you warm and familiar. kyle’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, his earlier rehearsed words evaporating into a mix of uncertainty and irritation.

but it all melted away the moment you spotted him right back.

“kyle!”

your delighted squeal pierced the moment, your face lighting up as if the rest of the world had vanished. you pushed past the stunned man and darted toward him with a speed that startled him, especially on those heels.

the flowers and box of chicken and chips slipped from his hands, forgotten in an instant as he opened his arms just in time to catch you, your momentum lifting your feet off the ground as he spun you in a full, effortless twirl.

his laugh rumbled in his chest as he held you close, the world tilting for a moment as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “bloody hell, love,” he murmured, his grin so wide it hurt. “you trying to knock me off my feet?”

“you were too slow!” you teased, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. your eyes shone with the kind of happiness he’d dreamed about for years, and he couldn’t help the way his hands tightened around your waist, grounding himself in the feel of you in his arms.

the doorman, standing nearby, shooed the sharp-dressed man who had stepped out of the car with you, his tone firm but polite. “sir, if you’d kindly step aside. looks like they’ve got some catching up to do.”

the man opened his mouth to protest, clearly annoyed, but the mr. vance's sharp gaze left no room for argument. With a huff, the man retreated to his car, leaving kyle and you to your long-awaited reunion.

kyle’s eyes never left yours as he gently set you back on your feet, though his hands lingered on your waist. “you look… incredible,” he said, his voice low and slightly awestruck.

you flushed under his gaze, your hands still resting on his shoulders. “you’re one to talk, sergeant,” you replied with a playful smile, your fingers brushing against the edge of his collar. “look at you—beard, broad shoulders, all grown up.”

his ears burned at your teasing, but he chuckled, shaking his head. “i’ve been through a lot since i saw you last, but none of that compares to this.”

“to what?”

“this,” he said simply, his voice softening. “you. here. with me.”

your laughter bubbled up again, and you leaned forward, pressing a warm kiss to his cheek. “i missed you too.”

for him, the years of distance, the unanswered questions, and the lingering “what-ifs” all melted away in that moment. you were here, in his arms, where he’d wanted you to be for so long. and nothing—no doorman, no stranger, no time—could take that from him.

before he could fully process it, you were tugging him towards the building, your words spilling out in an excited rush.

“you’re not going anywhere until you hear about this new art exhibition! you’ll love it—i know it’s exactly your thing. oh, and that restaurant you sent me on insta? i’ll get us some reservation, turns out i know the owner! he goes to my pilates class! and! i know a guy who can get those sneakers you mentioned. you’re going to look amazing in them!”

kyle could do nothing but smile—a big, silly, completely unguarded smile—as he followed you, the flowers and box of chicken now safely in your grasp. you clearly cared very little that they’d been dropped moments ago.

at that moment, nothing else mattered besides the warmth of your presence and the light in your voice. for the first time in years, everything felt exactly as it should.

banner credit

[sandeewithtwoe]

Gonna ask this cuz I know you're a Fresh fan

Thoughts on Fresh x Nightmare? :))

I’ve actually thought about this not too long ago

A mutual of mine drew them kissing as a joke and we were both “oh haha crackship that’s so funny haha they would never work”. BUT THEN, later on, I actually thought about it like “shit this ship actually bangs”

Ok canonically speaking, they would not be in a loving relationship. With the fact that Nightmare can only feel hate and Fresh can only feel fear and anger, they would not show each other love one bit. At best, I think they would work together very rarely only because they don’t want to be on each other’s bad side.

But let’s ignore logic and have a little fun with it yeah? If they were together, what would keep them to stay in the relationship? How would they act towards each other?

For Nightmare, I think that’s kinda obvious: Fresh’s negative feelings would be a FEAST for him, especially when Fresh is having one of his existential crisis (he has a lot of them). And even if he doesn’t, Night can just eat the host’s feelings, since the host is still conscious while they’re being controlled by Fresh, therefore he can sense all of the fear from the body. Plus, Fresh’s presence is an eye sore to everyone around him. Whenever he appears everyone says “oh no, not him”, which is honestly great for Nightmare. Basically, Fresh is like a gourmet meal and a walking disco ball. Once Night is interested in him, maybe he’ll start to talk to him more, maybe even get to know him a little.

And for Fresh… well… I’m gonna be honest, I don’t have a lot of information about this side of him, BUT I do know that he likes bad boys (cough cough Greaser cough), so him having a crush on Nightmare would kinda make sense. Mostly, I think Fresh would ignore all his bad behaviour and be more enamoured by how powerful and fun Nightmare is. He’ll probably be nervous and shy at the beginning, but after that, he gets more comfortable, gives Night hugs and gets all up in his personal space, stuff like that.

Ah and let’s not forget how good they look together. Their aesthetics are polar opposite: Nightmare being all black and covered in tar, while Fresh is all colourful and energetic. But still, they both have tentacles coming out of their bodies and they’re both master manipulators in their own way. It’s awesome, I love it and I love them.

Sorry if this is way too long, but to be fair, you mentioned Fresh, therefore I have to go all out.

[aesthetic-uni]

I’m glad Barbie is still teaching me I can do anything including having an existential crisis that can completely upturn my life :)

[baby-xemnas]

i think law would transcend into a different life form if he saw bepo wearing not a virgin killer sweater, but a virgin DESTROYER sweater

law brain function grinding to a halt: That's bAR-*voice crack* *cough* that's barely clothing...

[heavenlyheartsclub]

I just realized that Johnathon Ohnn in his concept art dresses like a Big Bang Theory character

[dizzycloudzzz]

why he isn't a tumblr sexyman

he even did the lip thing 🫦

[hauntingblue]

I have connected two dots... yamato kaido and momo (and kinda shirahoshi with her top) have clouds above their shoulders... and luffy in gear fourth has them also.... I can see the signs

[sequoiareachesforthesky]

Milgram fic idea: the prisoners are bored (as they always are) and they've already celebrated every holiday imaginable. So someone suggests doing a cross-dressing event for a change. Mahiru, Mikoto and Muu help everyone find the perfect fit (Mahiru sews half the clothes herself to make it look perfect).

A bunch of gender crisis ensue.

[pastriibunz]

we do NOT like Kai’s bio parents in this household

so much so they don’t even GET designs thats how much we don’t like them

[special thanks to @local-soda-can for helping write this :3]

[eggmeralda]

I need a massive sudden hyperfixation shock to happen again

[deus-ex-mona]

little brothers and their will to #slay, man </3

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

🪶

[chaoscradle]

my friend told me today that people who don’t know me think i’m mean

[aecholapis]

[hauntingblue]

ZORO LORE FINALLY ⁉️