#i bled while making this

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

A month ago, at one-ish in the morning, when all the best decisions are made, I was messing around in Tinkercad to recreate archeological finds of bag handle frames from iron age Scandinavian areas, when it struck me that a) I can just use the svg import setting to get these in there and b) I wasn't interested in using leather or wool, so why was I suddenly hell bent on using a historical shape? I could make my own as long as the general concept of "two big holes, attachment holes, some weight to the entire thing" was there. So... I made some rain clouds. In glow in the dark filament, because that's what was in the house.

Long post under break

Did I have anything remotely suitable for making a bag? Of course not. My knitting yarn is budget acrylic used for white elephant gifts and toddler whims, and my fabric stash is light cottons and stretch materials for dresses. But I vaguely remembered a V&A tutorial on boro that went at it from a "mend with what you have if you don't have sashiko thread and needles" perspective. I had a lot of scraps in the cabbage patch. I had, in a moment of madness, bought some truly awful polyester embroidery thread a few years before that was just sitting there. So, after patching together a flimsy backing, sorting on enough scraps to get to denim weight and yolo-ing together a lining to keep the thread heavy backing from snatching on every thing I owned, all that was left to do was a bit of embroidery. With chronic joint pain. Just as the seasons were changing.

It took a month, 64m of thread in 8 colors, and I chose to be stabbed repeatedly with straight pins over basting because stitching through this with sharp embroidery needles is painful in every sense of the word, and my memory wasn't good enough to patch this as I went, which is what you're supposed to do, apparently.

Things I learned from this stage: don't be like me and forget that boro shrinks your fabric, making your lining about 6cm too big after you've put in 4 inner pockets. Also don't put on the bottom as a part of your fabric piece. This was not fun to construct from this shape. Don't get your embroidery thread from Action, because boy, did this not want to split or sew without tangling. It frayed and pilled while being sewn at one arm's length at a time. Just splurge on sashiko thread, or at least DMC cotton if you follow me in this madness. Seven years of cross stitch under my belt, plus another five of helping assemble beginner kits for a secondary school, and I've never struggled this hard with just a bunch of running stitches. Thank mercy they're not supposed to be even.

Did I know that, if a lot of sources recommend you use certain materials, that might be habit, that might be parroting others--but it's usually because that is the least frustrating way to go about it? Intellectually, yes. Will this be the last time I choose to smother the little voice in my head reminding me of that? Not while the higher quality materials are less easily available.

Bad decisions made, I fumbled through. The only way to get it vaguely symmetrical was to first sew the vertical seam, them the other long side of the bottom, then the short sides. My overlocker didn't even blink when I shoved every fraying, uneven edge through it to keep this from entirely falling apart during use. It feels as solid as heavy canvas, but far softer. My sewing machine, which throws of a fit if anything is too thick or too tight a weave, didn't mind going through this, or over the knots keeping everything in place on the back. "Good enough works" in action, baby.

There was no easing the lining in prettily, so there's a lot of creases. And since all the embroidery is low quality polyester, I can't iron any part of this. Maybe that's for the better. I've got no idea what shape this would be if I went by the actual seam lines.

The only thing left to do was attach my cute little clouds... For which I found no tutorial. Or historical find pictures with enough fabric still attached. Plenty of archeological pictures of one line of big holes, but most people use either the holes meant for straps and sprang or the chunky holes for lots of loops. I'm sure they're learning from other people's mistakes, but those mistakes are severely undocumented with the state Google is in these days. Oh well. The historically accurate thing to do is work with what you have (more crappy embroidery thread) and use what techniques seem sensible based on what you've seen (Frixion pen to transfer the holes off the frame onto the lining and long, looping stitches).

And that's how, in a mere five weeks of work, you make a whimsical bag inspired by rain clouds over a stormy landscape.

Just gotta nip into town to get some flat hoodie thread for a strap.

Note to anyone reading this: it's now 8 hours after I've finished construction on this and I've realized that the sewing hole shape makes more sense if sewn/brute force appliqué'ed directly onto the bag instead of as loops over it.

Will my way work too? Guess I'll find out.

[sluckythewizard]

Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

 It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden   THUNK  of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a  gun shot  in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

 It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans,  offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more. 

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.  

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression. 

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face. 

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them. 

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now 

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda. 

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again… 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill. 

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again..  Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people.  All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

[mamanbou]

i truly say this with no malice in my heart but black butler fans who think the series peaked at book of circus/that the circus didn't deserve their fate........... are 7 times out of 10 not really black-butler-as-a-whole fans and are very unwilling to engage with the main themes and characters of the series as a whole. BoC was a fantastic high and had tons of engaging characters but I've met people who still hate ciel bc he had doll killed and that is CRAZY. to love a side character so much that it renders you unwilling to let the main/objectively most complex and important character into your heart at all. I'm sorry that the circus died but even though they loved each other they were also child murderers- in doll's case she still is LOL- and their most important narrative role is their impact on ciel/snake (whose plotline ties back to ciel's ideas about lies becoming the truth, so still a ciel thing ultimately). anyways the best arcs are Green Witch because it's good and Book of Murder because it's funny

[bunisher]

yeah i do think it’s interesting how the guy who plays a character who kills abusers had one on his podcast and then was like hehehe frankcastlecore Bro The Character You Play Would Shoot You Too

[m00ngbin]

can i PLEASE get a dramatic retelling of this prophetic dream. i absolutely need to know how mr. al dies

Why yes of course. I don't remember the majority of the dream, BUT I do remember the parts leading up to and right after he dies

Two of my friends, billymayslesbian and I were walking to downtown [city I live by] and when we get there we head down the main road because I'm hungry and in the dream there's a Thai restaurant that I really like. Otw to the restaurant we turn a corner and lo and behold: weird al and his 80s version doppelganger are hanging out with this crowd of screaming people. My friends go to talk to them but I hang back for a minute and so does billymayslesbian. Billymays starts getting like visibly enraged by the 80s Weird Al and they turn to me and theyre like. I have to fucking kill this guy. He has to go. You don't understand HE HAS TO GO. And I'm super freaked out and they're still explaining to me what they're going to do and I don't remember exactly what they said or the reasons for it

Wait first let me preface this with telling you that up until this point in the dream they were just some person. Normal human being. But to kill 80s doppelganger weird al they HAD to turn into the purple mob psycho alien. No way around it. There was a really really good reason for that but I can't remember why, I just know it was a good reason/sounded like one. Idk if it was like shifting blame after it happened or weird symbolism or what but it was so important that they were the purple alien when they did it

Anyways they start turning into the mob psycho alien and when they're done they don't seem angry anymore and they're VISIBLY more calm, they just have the blank :3 face, but then 80s weird al gets on (I remember this so vividly) a light blue bike that looked just like this and starts to ride away and suddenly alien billymayslesbian turns on a dime and shoots him dead in the street. In cold blood. The gun materialized out of nowhere and then disappeared immediately after. Anyways billymays stares at the corpse for a minute and then turns back into a human and walks over to talk to modern weird al like nothing happened and they didnt just kill his doppelganger. AND NOBODY AROUND US GIVES A SHIT THAT THEY JUST KILLED THAT GUY RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM. And then what I remember of the dream ends as I'm walking over to modern weird al as well

80s doppelganger weird al looked like this btw

[kaseyskat]

hi guys so I relistened to the lark and sparrow scene at the dance three times and I am having some Thoughts re: motivation and love between the twins because like. I know. I know we all focus on sparrow telling normal he's not proud of him I know. but also I feel like we tend to gloss over some of the other moments in this scene: bits like, sparrow repeating I love you I love you I love you so much like a mantra: because I think it is a mantra? another example of sparrow self-iding as loving so hard it comes off almost forced?

and another thing: there's such a stark difference between the twins motivation and it's so in your face and yet I don't see it discussed much so I'm adding it here too: sparrow is familial. he tells normal he wants normal to rescue him explicitly because he wants to see him again. he only confesses his disapproval in normal because he thinks if they can meet in the middle, it'll boost their daddy magic: ie, sparrows willing to hurt normal a little to help him a lot later, which is definitely a parenting style he inherited from henry ahskfkkdlflg

but lark's motivation is alllll self-sacrificial. "don't come save us we can either handle ourselves or die for our sins and it'll be fine either way" he says. coupled with the reveal of lark sleeping with rebecca and the amount of times he tries to talk over sparrow when sparrow is actually the more helpful one really hammers in the concept of how lark views himself and his relationship with sparrow vs how sparrow sees it: lark tends to view sparrow as an extension of himself, and sparrow never corrects him (and probably made this worse in the process) while sparrow views lark as someone in his family who he will love and forgive even if he's not proud of him, and I just think that is such a neat thing to explore!

[moeblob]

OK I swear the reason I'm showing you this will have context in a couple days! But also, the fact B&N has a section dedicated to "well he may be a ten buuuuut" and included my current crime of "he's blonde" is like. Dang. Called out.

Didn't help I saw this with a guy and I said "oh no, my blonde enjoyer crimes called out!" and he said "better than redheads" and I'm like. "Sir, I have to inform you of my previous crime." and he was not pleased as he said "Fish... why....."

[darkwood-sleddog]

Well. Sigurd ripped a dewclaw out bc he snagged it in my sweater, literally while we were both either on work meetings or about to go to work meetings…so to the emergency vet we went. Where we waiting for an hour to be seen bc we were non emergent. Finally, a hero tech came to see us and told us it was either wait four more hours or she can try and rip the nail off now. Me and Me D held Sigurd (muzzled) while he flailed and growled as dramatically as possible but we were somehow able to get the nail off and bandaged. That tech had fingers of STEEL and we were super appreciative of her. Then Sigurd got McDonald’s French fries on the way home. Urg. What a night.

[opera-ghost]

me laughing at the same jokes i’ve heard 1000 times every time i listen to/watch a recording of phantom

[coconut530]

Another derp for the episode of violin(ce) ~ 🎵🎻🩸🎶

[orcelito]

Ok also so I got my eyebrow and nose piercings back in... march, I think? I was supposed to go back in to get the bars changed out some time ago but I never did. Largely bc my eyebrow piercing has Not been healing smoothly (keep accidently banging it and getting it caught on things so it doesn't wanna heal) but I think the long bar has been actively hindering my healing (making it easier to get caught on things) so I decided to change it out Myself. Bought some new smaller jewelry online and it got here today and

I'm not generally squeamish when it comes to my own body. Like pain, blood, whatever. Don't rly care.

That, though... that took some effort.

But I did it! Smaller jewelry to hopefully make healing a little smoother from here on out. I also got some new jewelry for my nose stud that'll get here tomorrow. That one at least won't be a huge deal, since the nose piercing has healed so much more smoothly, thankfully.

(Preemptive warning for Gross Details in the tags. Lol)

[intcrastra]

I like to think Jing Yuan once hated being teased with little nicknames by the others in the High Cloud Quintet, especially of 'A-Yuan', out of embarrassment in being treated as the youngest of the lot.

Nowadays, he desperately wishes to hear that very nickname the most, if only once more, by his ( now former ) friends. No matter how impossible that may now be.

[cetoddle-archive]

does anyone wanna hear about the dream i had last night huh huh

[vulpinesaint]

respectfully, seafoam charcoal raspberry

this was extremely respectful actually. besides being told that i have the best takes and would be an asset in an assassination of the capital-g-God, one thing about me is that i love being told that i am strange and a little fucked up and that something is wrong with me. otherwise i gaslight myself into thinking that i'm normal which is not good for Anyone lmao cause something is definitely going on up there

[zinziinziiin]

zin from a week ago here. venting in the tags. might not be relevant as it posts, but it might explain some things from the last little bit.

sensitive content ahead. don't feel like you have to read the whole thing.

[retiredteabag]

The soul does not lie

synopsis: Sukuna allows tedious nonsense when he can feel your soul's cravings.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Though he hardly mentions it, Sukuna can, in fact, feel your soul in a way that a normal sorcerer never could. Knowing this helps to make sense of the fact that the man can always tell when you are distressed, even when you try to hide it.

You had discovered this little ability of his when he had come stomping in from the gardens one day while you watched unblinkingly at a horror film.

With your eyes only visible through the slots of your fingers you looked up to see him standing, arms crossed, in the entry way of his chambers.

"What is it that brings you fear?" He had thundered.

"W-what... no, nothing, I'm just watching a movie, see?" You flipped your phone around for the man too see but he did not take his eyes off your form.

"I do not repeat myself." His four eyes were squinted and his eyebrows arched in a dangerously attractive way.

"Kuna' it's a horror movie, that's all, I'm not really scared." You finally announced to the rolling of four red eyes.

"Your soul states otherwise." He quipped before drawing close to try and see what had your soul trembling so fearfully. He was disappointed, to say the least when he was unable to identify what was so "horrific" about your film.

And that marked the moment you realized that Sukuna was able to feel you in a way you could not understand.

Sukuna was NOT a gentleman, he was far, far from it. He loved to bring terror to the masses, very rarely did he allow another beings to so much as speak in his presence. He did, however, have "soft spots" for creatures that sparked his interest, and those remarkably loyal.

Even so, he did not make efforts to calm your nerves when you were anxious. He did not feel the slightest effect in his chest when your sorrow was palpable. He would certainly not allow for time to be wasted on your souls quivering's. That-was none of his concern.

It was not as if he was taking any actions when he allowed your pathetic "cuddling" nonsense when he felt the pangs of misery that surrounded your essence.

You had tried to hold him in the past but he did not see the use in wrapping oneself around another. Even so, he found himself pretending to sleep (even though he did not need it) when he sensed your desperation for his touch.

Likewise, when he could feel the shaky and childish excitement that bled from your soul when you were happy, he could not seem to help but humor you.

As mentioned, Sukuna does not require sleep like your helpless human form. Still, it was not uncommon for the king of curses to close his eyes, relaxing in his ultimate power. Be it when he bathes, when he is lounging on his palace's engawa, when he is seated on his throne, or even when he reclines himself along his chamber's bed.

Sukuna had his eyes closed one evening, feeling his power splay out from his body, grasping at the forms of everyone within his domain. When he sensed your spirit, quickly approaching his chambers.

He made the decision then to seem uninterested when you clambered through the doors.

He could hear the switch in your step as you drew in a breath, clearly forgetting what you had wished to say at the sudden image before you.

The bloodthirsty man had never looked more like a jungle cat, lying atop his bed in such a lazy fashion. He felt the exact moment your soul leapt. He knew you had covered your mouth as your heavy breathing had dulled despite your heartbeat climbing to unusual heights.

He knew of your antics. Having felt you chew on each of his biceps several times. You had that same giddiness now. It was simply that he did not care to move that he kept his eyes closed. Pretending not to notice as you took out your phone, your feet dancing around him. He'll allow you to take your ridiculous photos, he's too... relaxed... to... take issue with your senseless mischief.

He could tell you had finished when he heard you pocket your phone once more, your hands covering your beating heart, you leaned down, holding your breath. The king of curses had to keep himself from squishing his face in ....disgust.... as you planted a chaste kiss in the space between his lower eye and his upper lip.

"You're too precious." You quietly whisper. Brushing your hand softly through his hair. And Sukuna rolled his eyes behind his lids.

Such foolishness he has never seen. Even so- he will allow it.