#i mean this is just a mess

[evgar]

kiss of death

graphite and watercolors on paper

[akanemnon]

I don't like this place. It's turning everyone edgy and sad.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[songforten]

there's an interesting thing rtd said from the commentary about the "real mom" line:

i get not liking the line but like. it's an intentional mistake and an intentional character choice, and something we'll return to in the future, and that seems like important context to have when talking about the episode.

[hinamie]

corvidae

[egophiliac]

Hello ! I positively adore the running joke of Idia unknowingly finding Lilia to be the coolest guy ever whenever he doesn't know it's him, like when Silver described his father, or obviously with muscle red. I can't say what'd be funnier, Idia finding out his online best friend is actually Lilia, resident spooky hyper fairy; or them both never finding out, and it'd become even more ridiculous as time goes on. How do you think it'll play out ? You're always so on point

(Also, though it makes sense, I'm still devastated bat boy didn't get a ticket for the Halloween skeleton train : ( does anyone mentions him at some point ? Like how he'd have fit right in with all those Halloween town little freaks, and how he'd have impressed them with his spooks and scared techniques; after all he's been every Briar Valley's children worst fear on Halloween for centuries. I'm on the eng server and I didn't wanna spoil myself by watching the whole thing on youtube)

Have a nice day !

you and me both, Idia and Lilia being oblivious online BFFs (+ Idia being incredibly intimidated any time Silver brings up his jock gamer dad) is my favorite running joke/subplot. 🤝 it's SO good, to the point where I also am unsure if I actually want it to ever be resolved or not...maybe, like, as a post-canon stinger or something? everyone's standing around covered in overblot ink, and Idia and Lilia's phones go off at the same time...

(legit I do think this is part of why Idia couldn't be present for Lilia's dream, because for some reason Lilia decided he was going to just. embody his past self online. he probably quotes his own battle strategies or whatever in the middle of boss fights. Idia didn't pick up on the whole "oh how weird that we both live on a super remote island" thing, but he would spend thirty seconds listening to General Lilia describing siege warfare and be like "w-wait")

all that aside, however it does end up happening, I do see Lilia being very blasé and all "oh! cool!" about it. y'know, taking it very much in stride! and Idia...very much not.

(can't tell if tumblr is going to chew this into illegibility or not, this will be a fun surprise ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

as for Lilia sadly missing out on Halloweentown shenanigans...he does get one little mention as part of an offhand reference to the light music club, but so far no one has brought up how this basically is just Lost In the Book of Liliatown (Sebek's been too busy yelling about not getting to be in the same group as Malleus). 😔 honestly though, it's probably for the best that he got left out, because he would just settle right in and refuse to ever leave. canon would shatter. we would miss out on all the delightful angst of episode 7 because Lilia is too busy eating poisonous shrubbery inbetween practicing his very best screams, and no one can pull him away from it.

(I can hope for a sequel next year though...)

[cubezart]

rewatching bmc as an adult just feels like this

[morecrearty]

made a digital redraw of this sketchbook doodle

[slavhew]

thinking about how dean's hair got darker and he got paler from skipping missions + how probably the most he smiled was when hank was telling him abt those

[tagerrkix]

WHERE IS HE D:

(sorry for deleting and posting this again 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️ one tiny insignificant thing was bothering me and when I edited it it wouldn't show on reblogs and that kinda made me go 😠😠😠)

[almondpiglet]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAREST REIGEN!!

everyone thanks you for entering their lives :')

[aingeal98]

Something about older Jason looking at the child version of himself, the innocent victim, and feeling the need to defend and avenge him the way no one else will. They'll call him reckless and try to pin the blame for his death on some unique failure of his personality, the problem isn't Robin the problem is he was just a bad fit for Robin! And then older Jason coming back to life and spits on their twisted grief. Fuck you, that innocent child deserved more. You took his memory and ruined it to make yourselves feel better. If no one will give him justice then Jason will take it himself no matter who he has to kill to get there. It's the only way he can move forward.

Something about older Cass looking at this child version of herself, this innocent who has no idea what she was doing when she was tricked into killing, and finding her irredeemable. She will forgive everyone for everything if they need a second chance but she cannot forgive that innocent child. She spends ten years wanting that child to die for their sin, a standard she holds no one else to. And in the end she does have to die. She can never forgive that child until the price has been paid and the guilty, tormented, suicidal mess of a girl is dead and never coming back. Only then can Cass live on. Only then can she smile without feeling the weight of her kill on her back. If no one will give that child the justice they deserve then she will have to do it herself. It's the only way she can move forward.

[signorcerullo]

Dear Bonnie, I’m a coward. I should be saying this to your face, not writing this letter, but I know if I do you’ll talk me out of running away from all my problems. You’re gonna make me face a future without Elena and you’re gonna help make me the best man I could possibly be, the same way she did. And I’m absolutely terrified of failing you both. So, I’m leaving. Because I’d rather let you down once, than let you down for the rest of your life. And I hope it’s the happiest life. Because you, Bonnie Bennett, are an amazing woman, a mediocre crossword puzzle player and my best friend. 

With great love and respect, Damon.

[onifanss]

ERO404 •

[bkdk-bylerthings]

Mike Wheeler is a Gay mess

MY THOUGHTS ON REPRESENTATION/SYMBOLISM ABOUT THAT AWKWARD KISS SCENE AT THE END OF SEASON 3

As we all know Mike Wheeler did not kiss El back, he stood there with his eyes open, arms at his side and then is left there looking more confused then ever.

Want I want to look at in the scene is the Closet and Bear

Let’s talk about the Closet first:

El and Mike are standing infront of the closet, which I find really interesting for them to be placed there.

First we have El, not being able to use her powers to reach the teddy bear so Mike steps and grabs it for her.

Right, he’s the one to reach into the closet. Which now could be the beginning of something, that something of him taking a step into the closet. If you understand what I’m saying here.

…

Then after the awkward kiss, El walks away, leaving Mike near the closest, making no steps to move at all.

He realized he didn’t like that kiss, now questioning something about himself.

So since he didn’t move my point is that he’s now in the closet— and backing that up is what I said before of him reaching into the closet, grabbing what was in the closet.

For that - he doesn’t love El romantically and is starting to realize he has feelings for someone else…

Now to add to all that - The representation of the Teddy bear:

I think the bear could represent Mike’s love and for who he thinks he loves (cough cough El)

As we know El couldn’t reach the bear in the first place bc she wasn’t tall enough, so tries with her powers— this represents and foreshadowing season 4 of her trying to reach (in this case) for Mike’s love for her.

Since she couldn’t reach it, Mike does. Mike hands her his love or this case his actually love of Will, since this bear came from the closet. He is able to reach into the closet bc that is where his Love lies, not El, bc he doesn’t love her like that and El can’t make Mike love her, she can’t force him like she tried to force the bear down—

—like in season 4, questioning Mike if he still loves her.

“But you don’t love me anymore?”

To put it as simply as I can:

The bear represents Mike’s love but a love he put into the wrong hands bc actually he (for the time being) should have left it where it was. His love for Will is in the closet, his feelings for Will are hidden away… for now. He doesn’t quite understand what to do with this thing called Love so he gives it to El while he shouldn’t be.

And so after he stands there confused, he realizes ‘I gave my love to the wrong person’ leaving him standing next to the closet after that realization. He’s almost, confused, sad, in the dark now about his feelings since there is no more light coming from the closet.

I don’t think this is truly what the show wants you to get at here, I just love reaching, and over analyzing things bc it’s fun.

[egophiliac]

NEW BIRTHDAY THEME IS OUT!!!!!!!!!!!

BIRTHDAY SLUMBER PARTY, HERE WE COME

I think the theme is more loungewear than straight-up pajamas, but hey, I'm not complaining! (and -- look, we still have the groovies, I'm not giving up hope for animal kigurumi until I gotta)

[s0fter-sin]

ghost who was chemically castrated by roba and soap who wants to help him to regain his sexual autonomy

nsfw, angst, roba, unnegotiated unsafe but consensual gun play, hopeful ending

💀🧼

ghost walks like it hangs low.

there’s a tilt to his hips and a spread in his thighs and johnny’s never been able to stop staring.

and ghost’s never asked him to.

he knows he’s seen him; he’s not exactly discreet. he swears he’s even seen him cock his hips out before to give him a better view. but he always pulls back just as they toe the line; verbal cold water on the tentative heat they almost can’t help but spark when they’re together.

it’s never a no; johnny’s not so selfish of a cunt that he’d push when he knows he isn’t welcome. it’s always a reluctance; an “i wish i could,” never in so many words. an open ended “but…” as ghost circles the reason without ever actually saying it. johnny knows it’s something personal, something more than a difference in rank could ever excuse.

so he backs off when ghost does, jokes instead of flirts and holds his breath through the agonising wait until ghost lets him in close again. waits to know if he’ll let him close again.

it’s almost anticlimactic, the end of their dance; his delicate steps and looping logic to work out why bulldozed as ghost comes out and says one random night, “i can’t fuck.”

it’s not bitter. it doesn’t grate coming out of his throat; he doesn’t spit it like it’s something to be ashamed, not twisted with insecurity as if it’s an accusation by an ex.

it’s a statement of fact.

“you can’t fuck,” johnny echoes anyway because even if it is the reason, the big why… it still doesn’t really answer anything.

“i can’t get it up,” he elaborates, this horrid blankness in his eyes like he’s reading from a script. “whatever you’re looking for, whatever you want- i can’t give it to you.”

johnny just looks at him, the chill air prickling his skin. “right,” he nods calmly. “because my interest in you starts and ends with your dick.”

that blank calm shatters. “johnny…” he warns.

“do you really think i’m that shallow?” he cuts in, curing himself for the way his voice breaks but he never thought ghost would think so low of him; that this whole time, ghost’s thought that’s the only thing he wants from him. “like i’d take you for a ride ‘n just drop you?”

“there’s a difference between not gettin’ it for one night and never gettin’ it at all,” ghost growls, turning his back on him to lean against the edge of the roof. his shoulders heave and the anger seeps from him in one long breath. “it’s not a hitch, johnny. not a performance issue or ptsd or whatever the fuck you’re thinkin’. it’s permanent. irreversible.”

irreversible.

johnny stops, cold creeping up his limbs and dousing his defensive anger. ghost is many things and when it comes to his words, chief amongst them all is deliberate. he didn’t say it’s unfixable. incurable.

irreversible.

johnny buries his selfish hurt and scuffs his boots, an unobtrusive warning of movement, and comes up beside him; just enough distance between them to catch their breaths. he leans back against the ledge and looks over the opposite side of the roof at the dark sky.

“mexico,” he murmurs. not an accusation. not even really a question but ghost collapses in on himself anyway; sinking into his crossed arms digging into the ledge.

“mexico,” he agrees just as quietly. “‘pparently, roba found it more entertaining to let me keep it but- cut the cords. more demeaning that way; cock’s gone, at least you don’t feel the urge. don’t have to look at the fuckin’ thing hang there when nothin’ fuckin’ works.

“it’s not ‘bout how i see you, johnny,” ghost promises and it’s almost apologetic. “but you like sex. eventually, you’ll want it. and i can’t give it to you. easier to just… not let it get to that point.”

johnny’s jaw flexes. everything in him wants to reject it, wants to protest that something as trivial as an orgasm is more important to him than ghost.

but he also knows words are useless here.

they stand there looking out into the gathering dark, tense silence hanging between them, and the only thing johnny knows is if he isn’t careful, he could lose the one person he cares about most.

💀🧼

ghost’s been uneasy since his abrupt confession.

he knows it was sudden, borderline cruel to dump his shit on johnny with no warning but he just couldn’t take it anymore; couldn’t take the back and forth when he knew it would never go anywhere, couldn’t take johnny’s hope when he knew he’d have to watch it twist into disgust and pity.

into disappointment.

he figures that’s the end of it; there’ll be no more flirting now, no more staring or heated looks, no more teasing him by spreading his knees out just to see the flash of hunger in his eyes. the control he felt playing with johnny knowing it was welcome, just because he could- he’ll never feel that again. not now that johnny knows the truth.

then he steps into his room to find johnny laying naked on his bed.

he’s not spread out like an offering, not throwing him some cheap sultry glance as he plays with himself. he’s not even hard; his cock limp over the cradle of his balls, his legs bent loosely together, arms under his head as if he’s settling down for the night.

ghost sighs and shuts the door behind him. “johnny…”

“i know,” johnny says and it’s gentle; not cutting him off, just getting his attention. “just… hear me out?”

there’s nothing else to say. there’s nothing johnny can say or do to fix his violated body. but ghost still crosses his arms and leans back against the door like he can anyway.

johnny pushes himself up and off the bed, closing the distance between them but still giving him enough space to breathe; to open the door behind him, to escape.

“i can never know what was taken from you,” he starts and ghost’s fingers dig into his arms. “i can never know what it means to you. and i can never get it back.”

he doesn’t break eye contact and slowly lowers himself to his knees. “but i can give you something else.”

“you?” ghost guesses flatly and as much as it warms his blood, as much as he’s imagined having johnny look up at him just like this… it’s still not enough to offset the sickening swoop in his gut when his cock doesn’t so much as twitch.

“i’m a nice bonus,” johnny purrs but his smile remains gentle. “but i’m not the main event.”

he lifts a hand and ghost readies to smack it away when he reaches for his thigh holster instead of his belt. he flicks the closing strap open and pulls his handgun, his favourite, free.

“you told me you can’t fuck,” he murmurs, popping out the clip. he taps it against the side and loads it back in with a practiced hit with the butt of his palm. “but fucking isn’t all there is.”

“johnny, what…” ghost starts just to cut himself off as johnny thumbs off the safety and loads a round into the chamber.

“you trust me?” johnny asks and it’s as loaded as the gun in his hand.

good then, that ghost knows the answer. “always have.”

johnny’s smile blooms with warmth, with pride, and it chases away any reluctance he could possibly feel. he lets him take his hands in his, wrapping them around the gun with his finger on the trigger guard. he brings the barrel up beside his temple, holding it steady before his hands fall away.

until it’s only ghost between him and a bullet.

johnny’s hands go to his belt, his movements slow enough for ghost to stop him long before he reaches his cock, forever hanging limp in his pants. but he just rubs the muzzle along his temple, almost nuzzling him with the gun as he pulls down his jeans and boxers.

he waits for johnny to take him in hand, maybe try and pantomime a handy, and his hips almost recoil at the thought.

but he doesn’t try to touch him.

instead, he takes his wrist and guides the gun to sit in front of his cock; angling it to follow the same slight curve he has then holds his hands behind his back like he’s standing at attention. he splays his knees wide, sinking deeper and ghost sucks in a harsh breath as johnny ducks under the gun; his eyes locked on his as he curls his tongue under the barrel and brings it into his mouth.

it takes every ounce of will he has to not let his hand shake around the gun as johnny gives it the slowest, messiest blowjob he’s ever seen; slowly rising higher on his knees, guiding the gun up with him as if it’s his cock hardening. his cheeks hollow as he sucks, tongue laving up the barrel and flicking out to play with the muzzle like a cockhead, moaning with every bob of his head until saliva drips off the metal and makes a mess of his chin.

ghost’s never felt so powerful as he does watching johnny hang off the end of his gun; watching his cock harden and drool between his legs without a single touch, knowing he could pull the trigger at any time and johnny would not only let him but he’d thank him.

the thought breaks him from his paralysis, drawing the gun from his lips and johnny immediately stills; rolling his wide eyes up like he’s trying to check on him. ghost pushes every ounce of heat into his gaze and cocks the gun to the side, slowly pushing it back in until johnny’s lips meet the trigger guard.

johnny whines as he fucks his mouth, thrusting his hips along with each long drag like the gun is an extension of his body; almost too rough as tears prick his eyes and his lips redden and bruise but he never asks him to stop; his cock leaking a puddle on the floor beneath him.

“you gonna cum for me, johnny?” ghost croons, holding back a groan when just his voice is enough to make him shiver. “gonna cum with my fucking gun down your throat?”

he gives a broken whimper, as close to an agreement as he can make, and ghost crowds in close. he grips the base of his mohawk, wrenching his head back until his throat is flush to the front of his thigh. johnny lets out a choked cry, eyes rolling back and he doesn’t hold back as he brutally fucks his face; feeling the bulge of his gun in his throat against his leg.

“come on, johnny; you wanna be my good little holster?” he growls and makes sure he’s watching as his finger moves from the guard to the trigger. “then take my fucking load.”

he forces the gun as deep as he can and johnny gags, his shaking body locking up as he cums untouched; painting the floor and ghost’s boot, cock twitching and pulsing hard enough to bump against his belly and leave a string of cum threading from it to his cock.

ghost watches him spasm and moan, his throat convulsing around the gun and a heated knot of satisfaction tightens in his gut; so close to the memory of an orgasm, he’s almost dizzy with it.

johnny slumps forward, his hands slipping from behind his back, and ghost quickly flicks the safety back on and drops to his knees. he slides the gun away and pulls johnny forward to collapse into his chest, taking his weight off his knees; his whole body trembling with aftershocks.

“you’re crazy, johnny,” ghost whispers, awed, and feels him smile against his chest.

“aye,” he agrees, voice raspy from his gun scraping up his throat. “how else am i supposed to prove that i mean it?”

ghost tries not to tense up; tries not to let hope sink its cruel roots into his chest. “mean it?”

johnny pulls back, his cheeks still flushed and sticky with spilled tears. “i’m yours, ghost; in any and every way you’ll have me,” he promises. “sex or no sex. this can never happen again and i’ll still never stop wanting you. it doesn’t matter to me as much as you do. you’re everythin’ to me, ghost. not your body; not what you can give me. just you.”

a knot crowds in his throat. “and you needed to deep throat my pistol to prove that?” he deflects.

and just like always, johnny lets him. “worked, didn’t it?” he winks. “you fucked my brains out.”

ghost rolls his eyes to hide the softness he knows is flooding them and helps johnny up and gets him into his shower; cleaning him of the sweat and cum and spit covering his body.

that ghost covered his body in.

his chest hitches at the reminder as he strips himself down to a single layer and all but falls into bed, tugging johnny in after him when he hesitates just slightly at the edge of the bed; splaying his still naked body over him, sated and loose.

“i really do mean it,” johnny whispers into the crook of his neck sometime later; when their breaths have settled and synced.

ghost sweeps his fingers up and down the length of his spine, skin he’s never seen. skin he now knows every inch of. “i know you do,” he whispers back.

and for once, he thinks it might be enough.