#not done with this particular brain rot yet

[louis-quatorze]

sort of surprised that no Mission Impossible fic writers have noted that Simon Pegg has like, a lot of tattoos 

[azullumi]

“there’s so many fishes in the sea but i never learned how to swim” ; aventurine

summary — a guide to pining presented by yours truly, aventurine.

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, secret pining but like aventurine can be too obvious, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons

tagging — @toorurs (sorry boo i forgot to tag 😭)

note — i know i could have done better with this one, my brain wasn’t just working and im also on a trip. this is day 6 and 7 of writing for him until i get him !!

Aventurine yearns for connection yet he erects tall walls of self-preservation, fearing vulnerability, attachment, and betrayals (the shadow of his fear of losing someone dear to him all over again will haunt and follow his steps). He’s always distant, seemingly detached to the people around him like a leaf that never touches the ground as the wind carries it away; his only drive for relationships is due to mutual-benefit or a give-and-take situation. So what happens to him when he falls and yearns for someone?

Love is violence, he knows that but his eyes would stumble after your shadow and he wonders what it feels like to live in it. He’ll lie under your gaze and he’ll dream what it feels like to be seen, what it feels like to be loved by you. He will seek ways to be close to you but not close enough that you’ll know the rhythm of his heart spells out the letters of your name. In each moment of longing, it is all tinged with a taste of bitterness as this yearning, though desired, is a precarious precipice—everything will crumble and fall once he speaks about it.

So he settles with stolen looks with wishful thinking that you’ll cast a glance at his direction, he settles with the small things at first before he begins to become selfish—he’ll make up reasons just to see and talk to you, think of excuses just so he could linger a little longer in your presence. He’ll make up games and initiates bets where he knows he’ll always win but would let himself lose anyways; winning or losing didn’t matter to him in those moments with you.

“Go ahead, guess.”

You fell into a deep thought, staring at the two hands balled into fist that are in front of you. Your eyebrows were scrunched, trying to listen to the voice of your instinct but everything was silent inside your head.

“Take your time. After all, whoever loses has to follow what the winner wants.” Aventurine spoke and you could discern the hint of amusement in his tone as he watched you fall into some sort of predicament—all you had to do was to choose which one of his hands was the coin in. It was just one of the simple games you’ll play with him every time you see each other. Come to think of it, his visits to your department have been quite frequent despite having no particular business, official or not.

“Shh. I’m thinking.” You answer, lifting your index finger to your mouth in a hush gesture. It took you a few moments of silence and thoughtful humming before you pointed at his left hand, “That one.”

But he opens his left hand to show nothing on his palm, his right hand revealing the coin at the same time, and you are hit with a wave of disappointment. A chuckle slips past his lips and you just sighed—there was nothing you could do but to admit defeat. “Well then, what do you want me to do?”

Aventurine, without a single second of hesitation, answered. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

The thing is you could have laid yourself bare to him, you could tell him all of the sins that taint your skin, the words left unspoken in your mouth, the growing mold in your lungs. He’ll see the rot and will choose to stay, he’ll see the cobwebs and dusty bookshelves, and he’ll love you still, he’ll see the torn wallpapers and ruined floors and he’ll still adore you (he’ll find you where you are most ruined and he will love you there).

(His hand would gently tug and hold at the cuffs of your sleeves, letting the warmth and closeness of his touch linger in hopes that you’ll see him in the sun that holds you gently.)

Many people claim that they love you but do they adore you the same way as he does? Would they cross bridges for you when he’ll swim oceans just to see the way your eyes catch the light? Would they traverse the stars just to listen to the sound of your laughter? 

(He’ll see the dirt in your hands and will help you wash it off when others would simply walk away.)

He’ll think of you as he laid in his bed, satin sheets all wrinkled and messy as his pillows scattered around his form, and he wondered how nice it would be to have your things among his. to have the smell of your perfume mixed with his, to have you in his arms before he sleeps (he has dreams of his dreams and you’re always in it).

All this yearning, longing, and adoration will turn into a sword that will make him bleed the more he holds on to it and you’ll stay in his thoughts as the blood will run dry on his being. He simply hopes he crosses your mind once in a while so that he won’t feel pathetic for thinking of you all the time.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[bunnybunbun0]

robert chase boyfriend headcanons

look whos writing fro a dead fandom again?! well boo hoo,im nearly done with house,and im experiencing dr chase brain rot,so heres this!

enjoy!

-chase is the type of guy to celebrate monthly anniversaries

"happy three months anniversary baby" and he has a cake and everything

-pays attention to your bad habits in order to prevent them. Like,if he sees youre chewing on your nails hell give you a pen to hold and stim with or a sucker to distract you.

-also,he is a terrible liar,blame catholic guilt fro this one.

-if youre trying to hide your relationship from house and the rest of the team good luck,because this boy cant be sneaky for the life of him.

-we all agree he is a cocky flirt right? that is until you flirt back,then he instantly becomes a blubbering mess os shyness.

-you look sad? he will have none of it,goofy mood is activatd and hell do every silly trick on the book to get a laugh out of you.

-will do anything posible and impossible to cheer you up;pull you in for a dance,tell embarassing stories from his college days,anything!

-it goes without saying that hes very particular about his hair,yet youre still the only one who have the privillege of touching it

-overprotective at his top. hes okay with being mae fun of or treated poorly by patients or the hospital staff,but when you become the target hes ready to show how far the medicine malpractice really goes.

-if youre in a point in the relationship where you share a house be ready to hear the most obnoxious songs being sung at the top of his lungs while he does chores.

-loves loves loves! showing you hes strong; cant open a jar? there he is! yur water bottle cap is on too tight? super chase to the rescue!

-after cameron he gets very insecure,so he needs constant reassurance that you actually does love him!

-small action that shows hes always paying attention to you;like pulling up the lose strap of your summer dress,covering the sharp edge of the tables with his hands so you dont bump on it and hurt yourself,refilling your bottle with cold water when he sees its running out,this type of thing.

-when he has the aux on the car and a romantic song comes on he sings in looking directly at you in a serenade style,bonus if the singer has a deep voice or an accent,then hes doing a full blown impression.

-gives the best massage ever,has your eyes rolling while undoing all the tension knots on your back,and he takes pride on it.

-you two definetely have a spicy playlist and when hes in a specially nasty mood he plays a few of its songs in public to fluster you.

hope yall have liked,i loved this baby girl so much

send an ask if you want headcanons from any other character

[mentalmeles]

Well. While the brain rot has me, I wanna talk about some lines in ‘Trust Love’ that have been bothering me lately. Mostly how they blatantly reference Penny and how she just might return once more.

Yes, it’s that kind of Penny posting. If you don’t subscribe to the Penny 3.0 theory or think she should stay dead, please carry on and let me have my silly little thoughts in peace. Also this is 100% Nuts and Dolts propaganda. I will not apologize.

ANYWAY! Onto the lyrics!

Right now, your hopes are shattered / Just pointless ever after

This line obviously talks about the loss of hope. Penny, time and again, has been the character to symbolize hope. The most obvious time this has been done was during Jinxy’s auction in Volume 9.

Ruby is inexplicably drawn to the jade marionette, which we all know turns out to be one of Penny’s swords. (And ofc let’s not forget that weapons are considered an extension of their owners in this world.)

Without knowing why, Ruby wants it and tries to wager for it. But Jinxy asks for something in particular—something Ruby has lost.

“Enough hope to fill [a] jar.”

I also want to point out that the pov making it look like the jade marionette is fitting inside the jar as well as the star charm tied around the top are not at all coincidences. This is the show telling us point blank that Penny is the personification of hope. Or at least Ruby’s hope.

But Ruby just lost her. She has no hope left.

But in time, you'll find / Through love, your power just shines

(I felt the need to put this gif here since it is exactly what plays during these lines in the Volume 7 intro, so let’s just sit and think about the implications of that for a moment. Cool? Cool.)

When you don't know where to turn to / And you're sure all hope is gone / When the day you waited for won't come / And dark won't yield to dawn / Trust love and open up your eyes

Now these lines are what get me. They talk about Ruby losing hope and direction, caught in darkness. Now, while this is the intro song for Volume 7, it’s clear that Ruby has not lost her hope yet. If anything, she just got a big chunk of it back.

And I’d argue that even In Volume 8 when shit has hit the fan and it just keeps coming and coming, Ruby hasn’t lost her resolve yet. There are definitely moments when she comes very, very close to it and she falters, but she does end up maintaining it for the most part.

(I can't find it, but imagine the gif where Ruby is looking down at Penny's unconscious body and is tearing up while saying "It's all...too much." Wow. Such a pretty gif.)

(It's also funny how these moments where Ruby's doubts are the strongest are taking place when Penny is seriously wounded and incapacitated, now isn't it? Surely that's just a funny coincidence...)

But then she and the rest of team RWBY fall into the Ever After and, after learning about Penny's second death, Ruby's mental state just falls deeper and deeper.

But then the lyrics tell Ruby that all she has to do during this dark and harrowing moment is to 'trust love.' Who's love is she supposed to trust? The song has been relating to keeping hope up till now, so it's not a stretch to say that she's supposed to trust the love she had for Penny, platonic or otherwise.

Trust love, the truth is there, but sometimes in disguise

These lines are certainly interesting when put into the context that they're also related to Penny somehow. Personally, all I can think of is when Penny transferred the Winter Maiden powers to Winter. I'm definitely not the first to mention this, but it's awfully suspicious that the aura glow was yellow and not green, isn't it? Sure, there were motes of green, but that isn't what happened when Fria gave Penny the powers previously. So why the change? Unless the truth, while there, is disguised. The truth is that Penny is dying and giving up her power, but it's disguised somehow...

The way's uncertain but we're together / Movin' toward the light / When we trust in love and open up our eyes

Mention of Ruby being together with someone. Obviously, this could just be referring to team RWBY or the whole group being together, united under the mission of saving Remnant from Salem. But, again, when mostly every other line has been tied to hope--and by extension Penny--, it's hard to believe it's talking about that. So, maybe a reunion with a certain someone that hasn't happened yet? A reunion that will bring Ruby back towards the light--towards regaining her hope--once and for all? I mean, if Ruby's character arc in the second Justice League crossover movie is where her arc will go in the show proper, it's not too far of a stretch.

(The reason I mention the Justice League crossover movies is because Ruby's arc in the first movie was very reminiscent to the arc she had about her leadership role in Volumes 7 and 8. So, since she became very self sacrificing in that movie, diving headfirst into mission after mission with no regard to her safety, maybe that's what will happen in Volume 10 too? Maybe having the potential of getting Penny back will be the thing to make her stop?)

Anyways... I don't know if any of this really made any sense and I might just be rambling nonsense, but yeah. Some things that I noticed and felt the need to shout out into the ether.

Thanks for reading!

[revenantghost]

Heyo, let’s talk about my girl Meryl and why she’s so critical to the plot of Trigun Stampede and Vash in particular! (Well, that’s true for any Trigun, but Tristamp theories are rotting my brain atm.) Some spoilers for Tristamp and vague talk/references to the other series ahoy!

Meryl gets way too many accusations thrown at her for doing nothing/not enough in Tristamp. To the point that I started a rewatch to see if I was misremembering, but absolutely not! Those first three episodes alone, she’s critical to how things develop! She’s a foil to Vash, just like Wolfwood is!! She’s essential to his humanity!!!

But it took until I was watching ‘98 for the first time this weekend for it to crash into me like a freight train exactly what Meryl means, just like it took Trimax for the full weight of Wolfwood to click into place for me. Because she’s set up a lot like her older anime counterpart (though no one gets the same amount of character interaction—Tristamp, I adore you, but please slow down and let these poor folks breathe). She doesn’t understand Vash at first, she even goes so far as to call him a coward in a really low blow for what she easily recognizes as his bravery (and sometimes stupidity) later. And while they both (well, pretty much all the Trigun protags, let’s be honest) share their bullheadedness, I see a lot of people say she’s just like Vash... And I disagree, sorta.

She’s just like Rem. Just look at that last episode.

The two women don’t have the same belief systems, they have wildly different paths, and they come into Vash’s life in incredibly different ways. Meryl may keep Vash in check sometimes, but she’s not a mother figure imo. But they still play a similar role.

After over a century of traveling alone, we see (especially in other versions of Trigun) that Vash is often used and abandoned. Even when he makes genuine friends, they let him drift in and out of their life—and to their credit, he’s good at that! He can’t handle any more pain, so he slips away before the hurt catches up. But not Meryl! She ain’t gonna let that happen!!! At first, yeah, she follows him because of her job, but it never takes her long to go from frustrated and fed up to growing fond of Vash. And I especially love the career shift in Tristamp allowing her a complete out, to walk away and abandon Vash when things get rough, and no one would blame her for it.

But she stays. Because she sees that he’s good and worthy of the love that he denies himself. She sees this vile, hopeless world that they live in through his eyes, and sees the beauty in it too. She’s the first person to have faith in Vash not just as a savior, but as a person—unlike anyone has since Rem.

When all hope is gone, when Vash has lost his way, when he stumbles and falls, Meryl—who starts off doubting him!—is the one there to pick him up and remind him that he’s loved, that his love for humanity isn’t for nothing. Throughout the entire series, she has faith in him. She chooses Vash even when he won’t choose himself. She’s tired and done living in this selfish world of awful people, and she becomes the anchor that ties Vash down to what’s good in humanity. She’s just as critical as Wolfwood in taking a distant, disheartened, and broken Vash and reconnecting him to a world that cast him aside. And we’ve already gotten so much of that in Tristamp. It’s most obvious in the ending, but it’s built up so beautifully imo. She’s not as flashy as our fighters YET, but she’s absolutely essential to Vash, and I will die on this hill. I can’t wait to see her come crashing back into the picture with Milly next season.

[nanaminsmoon]

jus noticed that geto has nothing… my man my man my man listen ik this trope has been done but hyperfem spoiled reader & plug geto 🫶🏾 or literally any trope i jus have geto brain rot rn -🪩

omg something must be in the air bc i've been feeling the exact same way i think the edits are getting to me😞

cw: plug!geto x spoiledblackfem!reader, pnv, unprotected sex, oral(m receiving), spit kink, geto calls reader; 'baby', cock warming for a lil bit at the end.

wc: 2674

given the duration of your relationship, geto knew you inside and out. reading your emotions only took a simple look, the easiest expressions to read being the ones you gave him when you wanted something. those were the behaviours he was most well-versed in; due to his laidback and lenient nature, geto gave you anything your pretty little heart desired. and his most regretful gift he had given you was making you aware of your power over him, and his bank account. because once it landed in your hands, you abused it. your tactics of choice were so overused, that they now seemed rehearsed. yet geto would give in every single time, because he enjoyed the ruse as much as you did. perhaps even more. he loved the way you were touchier than usual; the warmth of your skin bleeding into the delicacy of your actions. the fight to not be beguiled by you was futile, so he’d humour you until he physically couldn’t anymore.

like the time you had approached him from behind, taking a deep breath as you walked to where he was sat in the living room—his attention reserved for the weed and scales in front of him. panic about distracting him would be quashed when you’d notice his head looking up to the tv, as he laughed at whatever he was watching. and, well assimilated to your dynamic, you rarely got nervous about asking geto for stuff, but the price of this particular purchase had landed on your lungs harshly, pushing a hefty breath out of them. and you’d make a laughable attempt at calming yourself as you stalked over to him. geto’s ears would perk up at the light sound of footsteps and, eyes still glued to the screen, he’d turn his head. there’d be no need to turn fully because you’d soon be stood behind him, shimmery lips delicately landing on his cheeks a few times. but, after a few moments, he’d turn properly to meet them with his own.

affection wasn’t a rarity in your relationship, so nothing about your actions would be a cause for concern. even as your hands delicately landed on his bare shoulders, thumbs dissolving the tension in his muscles. geto would just shift to click his neck, before an approving groan would leave his lips. a part of you felt bad for using much-needed stress relief to coax your wishes out of him, but you had a girls trip the following week and this one bag completed one of your fits perfectly. so you’d press on,

“you’ve been sat here all day, pa, need me to cook you sumn?”, you’d ask, sweetly kissing his neck and the shell of his ear. geto’s silence would be unbroken as his only response would be a shake of his head, as he placed weed on his scale. it was like knowledge of your intentions was forcing him to be uncooperative. because it was; geto had caught on to the way you’d stopped taking your phone with you everywhere, instead leaving it unlocked in random places with the screen displaying a screenshot of the bag you wanted. he just wanted you to ask him directly, instead of beating around the bush.

and he’d get his straight forward approach, when his shoulders would be stripped of their relaxation and you’d move forward to backhug him instead. despite still being stood behind the sofa, you’d try to get as close as you could, planting slow kisses on his bare skin.

“so~”, you'd begin, tucking stray hairs behind his pierced ears. whatever geto was watching proved to be more interesting than you, because his focus wouldn’t waver. but he would offer you more of a response than before, in the form of a low hum moving past his lips as they held his blunt.

“hm”,

“well~there's this really pretty bag i saw, but it's so expensive.”, you’d mold your lips into the pout that always helped you get your way. yet, when you looked to gauge your boyfriend’s reaction, there seemingly wasn't one. but you wouldn’t let it discourage you,

“can you buy it for me please~?”, you pleaded, to no avail. not until the blunt between geto’s lips would be placed on his ash tray, his lips blowing smoke out his mouth once he did,

“first off, ‘f you wanna ask me for sumn then at least have the fucking decency to do it to my face”, he spat, and his reprimand would be cut short by your legs rushing to sit you on his lap. a faint smile would be sent your way as his hands moved to smooth over your thighs, before he'd ask,

“second, how much is it?”. money was no object to geto, but you’d always neglect to mention the prices of everything you asked for, or bought on his card. it was a purposeful decision, and it was always made to prevent trouble. but when he asked for it directly, you had no choice but to tell him.

“500…”, you'd say quietly, and geto would scoff in disbelief—both at the price, and at your sudden lack of confidence.

“dollars?”, he'd ask, and you'd nod meekly, avoiding eye contact, ”i asked you a question”, he said, and you'd huff dramatically in impatience .

“well yeah, what else would it be?”, you said with a tone far too agitated to be directed towards the man in front of you. immediately, geto's hand would lift to grab your jaw.

“watch that tone.”, he'd chide through gritted teeth.

“sorry”, you'd reply quietly, and geto's strengthened grip on your jaw would have your head moving backwards to look him directly in the eyes.

“how are you so loud when you want sumn, but so quiet when it's time to apologise?”, he'd shake your head, and your voice raised.

“well it ain't my fault your high ass can't fucking hear.”, that retort was far too quick, and you could see the surprise it caused written on geto's face. it was as if your mouth had gotten too comfortable and had forgotten who you were talking to. because, guiltily looking at him now, you could see that you'd fucked up. and geto knew too. that's why he'd smile at you, hand moving from your jaw to your neck before he'd say,

“and now my high ass ain't gettin’ you shit”.

low groans and cuss words would take turns leaving geto’s mouth as he leant back on the couch; one arm outstretched on the top of the cushions, and the other on the back of your head. his head would rest on his shoulder, as he guided you so you could take more of him. geto’s theory was that if your mouth was inadequate in the art of talking right, then he’d train it, to excellency, at another skill.

”you sound so much better—fuck—so much better when you're just gagging on dick”, he'd tease, looking down at the tears brimming in your eyes. they’d implore for him to pull you back, and he’d listen dutifully. he’d lean forward to pull you back up by your hair, maintaining a grip on it that allowed him to make you face him directly.

looking at the briny apologies threatening to roll onto your cheeks almost made his heart lurch, but the hardness between his legs needed tending to, so that almost wouldn't be enough to change his mind. so you'd be back on his dick immediately, and his helping hand wouldn't leave you; moving your hair out your face, stroking your cheek, and even reaching over to grab at the flesh spilling out of your shorts.

“i shoulda known that a girl with an ass like this would bring nothin’ but problems”, he'd sigh, reaching over to his blunt to take another hit. the smoke would pervade the air above you, as your mouth had geto leaning his head on the sofa. the curling of his toes, and growing strength in his hand contractions told him he was close.

“you're gonna take it all ain't you, baby?”, he'd look down at you, and you'd nod around his length, “my greedy girl. always so good f’r me—”, he’d said, pouting, but his taunts would be cut short by the feeling of his balls emptying into your mouth. once he’d come down from his high, geto would lean down to push the leaking nut, back into your mouth, tsking at you as he did so.

“such a messy girl”, he’d shake his head.

geto didn't even have the courtesy to take you to your bed. though well-mannered enough to help you rise to your feet, that’s the furthest his chivalry would extend. because, once he helped stripped you of your pyjamas, you were on all-fours on the couch—gripping onto the arm rests as his large hands pulled you onto his dick. one of them would move to wrap around your 40-inch bundles, reining you in any time you tried to run from the repercussions of your loose mouth. at this point, it seemed like the real punishment was taking him without any prior prep. because geto was blessed with both length and girth, so taking him was a challenge in itself. but it was a challenge that, stomach tightening, pleasure made very easy to accept. adjusting to his size wasn’t the only issue, there was also the fact that his thrusts resembled those of a man who was finally being given an outlet to express his hidden disdain. though they lit a fire inside you, that coursed through your veins, they tightened your hands’ grip on the armrest. this man was fucking you so hard you were convinced you’d break a nail. that'd bring you to a total of three, following the two you had broken while fucking the night before. even still, nothing could distract from the feeling of his hand in your hair,

“baby, my hair”, you moaned out, reaching to place a hand on the large one in your tresses.

“y’think i give a fuck? i paid for it ‘nd i'll do whatever i want to it”, would be geto’s only response, accompanied by his spiteful hand collecting more of your hair to pull you back. his other one would move to wrap around your throat, attaching your back to his chest.

“open.”, he’d instruct curtly, and you’d open you mouth for him to spit in it, before swallowing without further instruction.

“what’d i say about gratitude, baby? say ‘thank you’”, he kissed your neck, biting down on it when he realised that he’d fucked you out of coherent thought.

“th-thank you”, you said, aided by his thrusts knocking the words off your tongue to fill the space around you.

the feeling of your warmth enveloping his dick had stolen geto’s sight of why he was fucking you so harshly in the first place. so, after a little while, your forehead would be greeting a cushion as you keened a mix of geto’s name and pleas for him not to stop, into the fabric underneath you. the once pitiless hand in your hair had softened into a more romantic one—moving the dark brown tresses covering your back, so he could kiss affirmative words onto the expanse of it. geto could never stay mad at you for too long, that’s why you got everything you wanted; because he hated the feeling of anything that didn’t make you happy. that’s why when the feeling of you starting to contract around him would be joined by desperate whines, he’d lean forward to rub at your clit,

“baby, imma m-mess up the c-couch, wait”, your hands would reach to, barely, wrap around his forearm. but all the strength in your body was focused on tightening the knot in your stomach, so your grip would loosen with every movement of geto’s hips.

“you can make a mess, baby, it's okay”, he'd reassure. and his lips, dick, and fingers would work in tandem to feed you stimulation, until you felt your release wash over you. geto would feel it too, so he wouldn’t hush you, nor neglect you to chase his own end. he’d just keep giving you what you needed, and a little extra.

“i know, baby, i know”, geto reassured, as his lips left a trail of wet spots on your back, and shoulders.

geto’s astute eyes would watch the tension from your release simmer to settle, before he’d pull out of you to sit down on the couch. his pupils would be fixated on your face’s every micro-movement, studying you until they deemed you fit enough to take him again. that’s when he’d move you onto his lap, sliding you down onto his dick. seeing how he had fucked you senseless just a few minutes prior, geto wasn’t expecting you to be moving and bouncing on his dick the way you were. and, if he wasn’t so busy writhing underneath you, he would’ve been impressed.

since you were doing all the work, he’d reach over to take another hit from his blunt, making sure to not blow the smoke in your face once he faced you again. the look in your eyes as you kept them on his, pulled his hands from your thighs and hips, to the sides of your face as he kissed you messily.

“jus’ keep movin’ like that, baby, i’m almost there”, he said, against your lips. and, true to his word, you’d bounce on him one more time before his fingertips were digging into you to still you, so he could fill you with his nut. the position he had placed you in meant that the strained fruits of his vocal cords’ labour would be trickling into your ear as he came—vocal as always. the both of you would then sit, chests heaving in sync as you calmed yourselves down.

once calm and, quite frankly, tired as fuck, neither of you would be in any rush to move from your position. lifting off you him didn't seem beneficial to geto at that time, so he'd just keep you there and go about his business. your legs would remain wrapped around his waist as he'd lean to change the tv channel, and continue weighing the drugs on the table. in a weird way, being connected to you like that calmed him; it made him feel more productive in some odd, unexplainable way. and when he went to pick his blunt up for the nth time, a voice in his head would ask him to offer you a hit but, so sure he had heard your light snores as your chin rested on his shoulder, he decided against it. and, looking at you out the corner of his eye, it looked like your eyes were closed too. but the true test would be his following words,

“send me the link”, he said, and he’d almost choke on smoke as a laugh floated up his throat at your sudden alertness.

“for what?”, you said, moving your head back to look at his face.

“the bag, dickhead. you wan’ it or not?”, another chortle would resound when you'd lift yourself off geto, coercing winces and deep breaths from the both of you, to limp your way to your room to retrieve your phone.

©Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[esmes]

don't mind me - just some rainy day musings bc sweeney todd 2023 has rotted my brain

someone's tags on a gifset got me thinking about 2023 revival lovett and todd and the special something their dynamic has. there's something about this particular iteration of these characters and their relationship, especially as we see it evolve throughout the show (even as we've seen it evolve throughout the show's run), that just makes mrs lovett's betrayal and her death at his hands hit hard. i know, i know - she deserves it. she lies! she's a lying liar. her deceit is no small thing. any one of us would be incensed to have been misled the way she misleads sweeney. even if a small part of her may have done it, as she says, to spare him having to see what became of his lucy, the larger part was certainly to serve her own interests.

but there's something about how close mrs lovett gets to bringing sweeney around to her this time that just gets me carried away. they're not just business partners - they're lovers, they're co-conspirators, and they're sort of each other's only friend in the world. at this point, he indulges her flights of fancy. they know each other intimately. they joke with each other! he's likely had to listen to countless hours of her prattling on about her thoughts, hopes, and wishes. this is a man who, at this point in the show, is slitting people's throats without remorse. and yet he spends the evening on the sofa cleaning his pipe while he patiently listens to his girlfriend rave about a seaside wedding. when she takes his hand, he doesn't wrench himself from her grasp like he used to. he doesn't get up and walk out, which he could do. he accepts her - her presence, her company, her warmth. he may struggle to admit it to himself, but he does. he can concede that he loves her - just a little bit, though he can't quite bring himself to say the words. sweeney is fiercely loyal to lucy's memory, so much so that he clearly couldn't ever wholly give his heart to someone else, but, in that moment after "by the sea", you can see that he's softened toward lovett. they were both alone a long time before this, after all.

it's not the stuff of great love songs, but it's something. it's almost enough.

this is what ultimately makes the final living moments between them all the more heartbreaking. mrs lovett has always been a sympathetic character to me - a villain, sure, but not without her reasons. she's a woman alone in a brutal world. whether the character is an older or a younger iteration, she's been alone for a desperately long time. when sweeney returns to her after all this time, she sees her moment and she takes it. she's not letting her second chance at life get away from her without a few claw marks.

when sweeney kills her, he sheds no tears over it - but the grudging fondness we'd seen him beginning to feel toward her only serves to emphasize how monstrous of a deception it is. his "you LIED to me" comes out in an anguished roar. when he throws her in that oven, all the light goes out from the world. it takes my breath away every time. though it should, it doesn’t quite feel like justice.

i know not everyone loves annaleigh's interpretation, but i have maintained from the first time i saw this revival that the warmth she brings, the honeyed, deluded, comical sweetness that lures sweeney into believing life with her could be tolerable, if not ideal, was a brilliant choice.

that's why the leap into hell together works for me. some productions have had sweeneys that barely tolerate their lovetts, so a cold diverging of paths makes sense. these two definitely fall into a different category. it makes sense to me for this sweeney and lovett's ultimate fate to be each other. who else would it be? lucy did nothing wrong - she's not going where he's going. having made lovett pay for her lies, they can head on down (hand in unlovable hand!!!!!!!) to live out the almost-enough life they created with each other. and sure, her chirping his ear off for eternity would certainly make an appropriate punishment for his crimes.

[beatingdrumspouringwine]

Words from the Gods 1 - Where Are They?

I figured I would start this series with the way most people begin to encounter the Gods - through beginning their worship of the Gods. I don't know if this is super prevalent, but I feel like I've seen occasional posts from people asking how they can reach out to the Gods. Usually, this is accompanied by worries about receiving signs, altar prep, or whatever else have you.

I'll delve into signs in another post, but I want to talk about where the Gods are. One of my favorite things about being a Hellenic Polytheist is that the Gods are, both literally and figuratively, all around us. There are Dryads in the trees, Nymphs in the waters, and Gods in general in the world around us. We're never alone, and unlike the slight paranoia that this sentiment can cause us, it's actually a rather peaceful thing. Even if you've never called out to a particular God before, or if you haven't prayed to Them in a while, as long as you can call to Them, or even think to Them, They will be there.

And I think this is something that some people kind of miss. The really big, really intense experiences with the Gods are what are really sought out, as they can lead to interesting stories, and possibly a deeper faith as well. But this comes with the flip side of forgetting about the beauty that stands so close to us, we are always within it. We don't need the Gods to call out to us if, say, you're already standing in Athena's domain by hanging out in a library, or you're already in the presence of Zeus by watching a thunderstorm roll by. Reaching out to the Gods, in that sense, isn't necessarily some great big step that can only occur under the most formal of situations, but can even happen in a casual passing acknowledgment. Personally, as someone who loves rainstorms, I always make sure to say hello to Zeus when there's a particularly good storm. I don't necessarily worship Him fully (yet), but at the same time, acknowledging His existence is something easily done.

Unfortunately, I've been writing this essay on Finals Brain Rot (if you know, you know), so my thoughts aren't quite as well-articulated as they could be. If I can give any kind of conclusion to this, however, it would simply be that the Gods are always closer than we think they are. And if you come from a Christian background, with the idea of an omnipresent/omnipotent God, this can sound a little scary. But it's not quite scary or malicious. Instead, it's like having a friend who is always within reach, who can be spoken to with the gentlest touch. The Gods are good, They are kind, and They are always near to us.

This went a little less "metaphysical" then I was planning on, but I'll save that for the next installation, which will hopefully come out a bit faster, and will be about dreams and discerning said dreams.

Also, credit for the little end divider goes to @cafekitsune :)

[thexie-and-stars]

Intro!

@tazmaboxed

I acknowledge the Traditional Owners and Custodians of this country. In particular, I acknowledge the Indigenous Elders of the Wurundjeri people, part of the Kulin nation, where I live and learn and pay my respects to their Indigenous Elders past, present and emerging. Sovereignty has never been ceded. It always was and always will be, Aboriginal land. [credits to @elliewasaghost for the template]

dni: general dni criteria, MAPs, paraphiles [not people with paraphilic disorder], nazis, Radqueers, Radfems, porn bots. if you piss me off, i will block you

FUCK JKR. TERFS, SWERFS AND FARTS CAN GO DIE

THIS USER HAS INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, PLEASE BE MINDFUL

I do not support Neil Gaiman, Always support the victims.

JOIN THIS: GAY DISCORD

IT'S GAY

I do vent posts a lot. If i'm actually in crisis it will be either untagged or tagged with #crisis. if not, please disregard because im just dealing with shit.

I will make moodboards on request SEND ASKS

WILL ALSO GIVE ADVICE

I edit wikipedia and fandom pages, lemme know if there's something wrong on a page and i'll take a look!

I run a tumblr community about special intrests and hyperfixations. If you want to join, DM me or send an ask!

HALLOWEEN SECRET SKETELONS: Asks sent

The theme on my website/tumblr page is not mine, I customized it. the credits are on the website.

art blog: @theo-th3-trans-art-b01

emergency ray toro bc i am mentaly silliy

reasons not to kill yourself: Link :3

RIP @venomvolts-deactivated20240803 I hope you re-join tumblr someday, you will be remembered

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx

I realised I haven't done one of these so:

Name: Theo

Nicknames: Thexie, Thex, Bean

Attraction shit: Bi oriented Aro/Ace.

I don't feel like a human, i feel like a silver fox w antlers. If u don't fw that, DNI

Pronouns: He, It, Rot, Vamp, [Ask as my prefernce changes daily, full list of prns on my pronouns page, go to the bottom of the post]

Gender: Rounded version for cis people. Boyflux transmasc, which means my gender fluctuates on the slidy scale between agender and boy.

Actual full decimaled gender: galaxforieliminalfluxboy. made by me!

Demi-verbal and silly :3

Tags i use:

#me and my posts, theo posting, beans posts : my own posts

#my starry angel: interacting w my best friend @a-perfect-imitation

#bean answers an ask: asks

#i can feel a ghostly prescence: interacting w @elliewasaghost [not used much but holy shit it's a great tag name]

#the lurker's here: @touch-starved-lurker

#beans come to visit: @lots-of-lesbeans-2

#cheeky fucker: @cheekyboybeth

#my chappel town and chemical cave: music tag, mainly my own lyrics, poems, talking about my instruments and occasional songs/covers.

#bean's brain: anything about the stuff listed in my TW area.

#theo spoils: used if a thing im ranting abt has not been widly seen yet, for example, a new season of a tv show.

anything to do with bean/theo: read the other bit of the tag

Triggers: Human balls, anything to do w gen alpha lingo, jokes about rape, talking about sexual assault.

General: I am Irish-Australian and I fence. I have a dog and two cats! I am fine for people to send asks or dm me! I do swear a lot but I don't post nsfw. I do sometimes reblog nsfw, nothing too severe. I AM a minor so please be mindful. . I love it when people send me asks! You can also dm me. I will give out my discord on request. I am polyamorous

Diagnosed: ADHD, Anxiety [all 3 types], Asthma, Autism, Chronic fatigue, chronic pain, Deppression, Hypermobility, Long covid, POTS, Scoliosis, Strabismus, Vision impaired

Probable I have it but not diagnosed yet : BPD, Fibromyalgia

Special interests: Heartstopper, MCR, Art, Autism, general knowledge.

Current Hyperfocus: stardew valley, dayflower

Fandoms: Dead Boy detectives, Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, The Osemanverse, dead end paranormal park, Nimona, stardew valley, MCR, witherburn afterschool news, GRAVITY FALLS

Interests: Trivia

Likes: Cryptids, Books, My laptop, My friends, Watercolours, Drawing, Eating raw onions, Art, Mushrooms

Dislikes: Jam and butter together, Nausea, bad textures, the popular girls

Music i like: Bears in trees, Cavetown, chappel roan, Dayflower, Evanescence fall out boy, girlinred, Mcafferty, MCR, MotherMother, Penelope Scott, Ricky Jamaraz [i'm gay, what do you expect].

My spotify playlist: Trans Tism songs :3 by Theo The Mothman.

Trivia: I play clarinet, guitar and the drums and I have a pair of mechanical wings I use for cosplay

Trigger warnings for things i might post: self harm, mental illness, suicide, family stuff [my mum's abusive], unreality [weirdcore and dissociation],

Mobility Aids I have: cane, crutches, wrist splints, back brace, wheelchair

Meds I take: ADHD meds, Salt Tablets, Melotonin

@frogofalltime is my dad :D

USERBOXES AND LINKS DOWN BELOW \/

credits going left to right, from top left!

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx, @system-box

@lgbtq-userboxes, @lgbtq-userboxes,

@sweetpeauserboxes, @burntoutuserboxes

@burntoutuserboxes, @xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx,

@esotericalqueer, @esotericalqueer

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx, @cardboard-userboxes

@arcanecollective, @decemberblue

@another-userbox-blog, @sweetpeauserboxes,

@puppyuserboxes, @xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx

@alterhuman-userboxes, @whats-a-human

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx, @burntoutuserboxes

@mogaispiderpunk, @blood-moon-night-coining

@totallypumpkin, @frogsforthefrogwar

LINKS \/

pronouns page

posts I wanna keep

last relapse: 4/11/24

haha idk if i'm gonna make it to graduation

tw for that btw

[persphonesorchid]

Hatin' On You - MYG || Teaser ||

Summary: You absolutely loathe min yoongi, and honestly, you have no idea why - his vibe rubs you in all the wrong ways. When you and him suddenly find yourselves in a room with a shaman, things get ridiculously complicated.

Genre: Past Lovers au | Fluff, angst, enemies to lovers.

Teaser Warnings: none

Teaser word count: 647 :)

Full fic has been posted :)) - Here

Masterlist

Notes: This fic is based off a dream I had a while back. Which I can't say much about because spoilers lmao, though I will say that the dream was wild as hell. The summary alone is just a little bit of what happened in that dream of mine 🤣 But!! I hope you guys look forward to it! I'm so excited to share it with you all, and hopefully, it'll be done and ready by this weekend!

Also, just wanna say this fic wouldn't be here if Nikki didn't say "Can you write it 🥺"

And, as all my teasers go, three scenes in no particular order! Have fun! I hope you're all having a great day! ❤️

You could feel Yoongi’s stare, burning into the side of your head and you refuse to give him the satisfaction of glancing his way. You promised Seokjin you’d behave, that the few words you’d share with Yoongi – if any – would be civil.

You’ve known Yoongi for years, running in between the same circle of friends. The first time you’d met him, Seokjin had warned you not to take his lack of words and uninterested expression to heart. You hadn’t, some people are like that – you’re aware.

Yoongi constantly had his guard up, never letting anyone get closer than he would allow. It’s not easy to sit in a room with him, even amongst your friends. It’s awkward, painfully so. You’re not sure why he rubs you the wrong way, maybe it’s something about his vibe. The way he carries himself like he’s king shit, able to command a room with a flick of his wrist.

You and Yoongi always bicker, even without saying anything at all. There’s a tension that’s strung between you both, like a tight coil that only curls tighter the closer you are to each other. Like now, sitting a few inches away from him, even though he’s said nothing else to you, eyes stuck petulantly out the window.

“D’you need help finding Jimin and Hoseok?” His eyes flicker down to where the squirrel plush swings from the belt loop in your jeans.

The words are taunting and there’s a gleam in his eyes that leaves you unsure if he’s joking or not. You huff, crossing your arms, “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, the way you act all the time.” He says, walking off, but you’re not letting him have the last word.

“As if you’re any better.” You trail behind him, glaring daggers into his broad back and hoping that he trips on air. You suck your teeth, pure pettiness leading you to follow behind him and not go your own way.

You’re not sure why it’s always this way. There’s a need to be as far away from him as you possibly can be, if to just spare yourself the headache, but also, a need that swirls beneath it to be near. You’re not sure what to make of that and you try not to think of it. Try to bury it down, put a lid on it and leave it to rot in a corner somewhere.

You don’t like him, and that’s just it, there’s nothing more to that, nothing you have to sit and bust your brain over.

“You two have a past.” The woman calls, and for some reason, you and Yoongi both stop. “I can show it to you.”

She’s probably part of the attractions - here to make money just like everyone else. It’s not uncommon to find folk like her in places like this, where susceptible people are lured into paying a pretty penny for baseless words. It calls to you though, for some reason, you’re not sure, but you turn to look at her first.

She smiles at you, and you turn back.

“Ignore her.” Yoongi says, trying to urge you forward, even though he himself has yet to move. “C’mon.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the woman is persistent, it seems, as she speaks again. “I’d be doing you both a favor.”

Yoongi sighs, the warmth of his hand leaving your back as he turns. You turn too, and you’re locked in a silent stare-off with the woman.

“I don’t think she’ll leave us alone.” He mumbles quietly to you, and against your better judgment, you follow him as he walks back. “People do this all the time, so don’t pay mind to whatever she has to say.”

Tags: @xpeachesncream @luaspersona @matchy6812 @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @taestefully-in-luv @bangtansmauyeondan @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna

[foxholewriting]

Hunter

Black/Male Reader - Slice of life/Fluff - Words/ 728

Pronouns - He/Him ; Pet Name(s) - None

Mention - Murder (light murder), Zombie being a zombie

-----------------------------

“I’m not doing this Black.” Y/N glared at Black and then looked at the poor dude that was tied up with rope, he had appeared a few days previous causing havoc on everyone most recently committing armed robbery. He seemed to have a particular target for younger women. 

“Why not?” He looked down at the man who was worming and wriggling around like a pathetic worm dirt was stirring up making Y/N cough, he was sure that Black would do what he wanted with this man either way but making Y/N watch wasn’t fair. 

“So what you want me to do is release this man so you can hunt him down? Why do you need me here to do that, your arms stop working? Oh wait, maybe they fell off? I was having a cozy night with Grete watching a very strange version of the price is right where people had to fist fight to get to guess the price. I just saw two old ladies dook it out but now i’m out here feeding you like my pet zombie.” Black stared at him as if to say “Are you done yet?” Y/N rolled his eyes and took Black’s pocket knife. 

“Wait until i’m-” Y/N raised his hand to flip him off, this is the same song and dance they’ve had for the last few weeks. 

“I know I know, you need to get into position while I interrogate the guy to find out whatever scraps of information he could possibly have. I swear your brain has rotted through.” Black huffed walking away into the factory already done with Y/N, it’s become a ritual, a silent agreement that not even Crux intrudes on. 

It took several attempts to pin the man down and cut the ropes that were gagging his mouth, he looked at Y/N panicked then looked around as if this was the first time he’s ever been here. 

“Where the hell am I? Where’s my daughter?” Y/N let him panic and get it out of their system, usually when they panic they don’t give clear answers or even a worthy hunt for Black making it a lose lose situation. After a few minutes the man seemed to calm down enough to answer Y/N’s questions. 

“I don’t know where your daughter is, do you know what happened to you?” The man, admitting his name is Colin, had a puzzled look on his face. 

“What happened to me? All I can remember is me having an argument with my daughter over her boyfriend,  her screaming at me to turn around seeing her boyfriend carrying something then everything went dark.” Colin didn’t give any answers beyond that, why he was stealing or why he didn’t even try to look for his daughter. The story didn’t add up, there wasn’t a way to cross reference any news or articles in his past universe to compare notes. 

“What are you? A fucking detective?” Y/N rolled his eyes, okay time to cut this dude loose he was causing a headache and he was giving him the creeps. The ropes gave way easily with small sounds of ripping, Y/N stepped back running somewhere to hide. It took several minutes before the man got up and moved around, he was looking for Y/N but it was hard to coordinate the factory yard to even try to find him. 

This part was usually the more grotesque part of the event, not that Black was grotesque but the act of him feeding was grotesque since he still hadn’t mastered a more neat approach to it. It was like he didn’t act human, it was primal and raw which made it so much harder to stomach. An hour passed before Black came to find Y/N who was currently writing in his journal. 

“Ready?” Y/N looked up and grimaced before using a washed rag to wipe his face, careful to not be too rough as he washed away whatever human by product was stuck to his skin. 

“Feeling better?” Black smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, I don’t think I’ll need to eat for a while.” They both laughed as they walked back to Grete’s house, without either of them saying anything they linked hands and for a moment everything felt okay. Everything felt human again. 

-----------------------------

@kiiyoooo & @doubledeadstudio

If you want to be tagged in anything please let me know

[lorilane33]

Best Friends

A/N: OH MY GODS HI GUYS!! I am indeed still alive. So it’s been a minute. Or five. Or... closer to three years lol anyway. @jobean12-blog @beccaanne814 and @musings-of-a-rose here this lovely thing is. :) I’m so nervous to be posting again, especially for a fandom like The Last of Us. But, Tommy Miller has give me brain rot, so here we are. I’m going to stop rambling now, so please be nice lol

Summary: A day in the park with your bestie Tommy takes an interesting turn. 

Word Count: 1,369

Warnings: Not a single one. Other than Tommy Miller himself because that man’s southern charm KILLS MEEEEEE. dead. so dead.

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Tommy has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. The two of you are thick as thieves, spending all your free time together and the two of you usually end up escaping the world for a while.  

On this particular afternoon the two of you are at a park Tommy had come by on one of his runs earlier in the week. He had insisted he show it to you the next time you two hung out, and that you would love it. The two of you are currently laying in the grass, watching the clouds go by and just catching up with each other.

You roll your eyes and continue your rambling about a coworker who’s been frustrating you at work. “… she’s just really been pissing me off recently, Tommy! It’s like she’s trying to get herself fired at this point, but the administration hasn’t done anything to get rid of her. It’s a never ending cycle at this point.” You finish with a huff, crossing your arms in frustration. 

Tommy, who is normally ready with advice or another appropriate response to whatever it is you’re talking about, is far quieter than usual after one of your rants. In fact he’s not really acknowledging that you’d been talking at all. 

Curious as to what has been holding his attention,  you turn toward him and joke, “Tommy, are you even paying atten-” only to find his dark chocolate brown eyes already gazing at you intently. His lips are split into a grin, just wide enough to bring his dimples and laugh lines out of hiding.  Giggling, you reach up and poke a finger into his left cheek. “Hey, Tommy. You okay over there?” 

Chuffing softly, Tommy blinks and playfully pulls away from you, and looks away. Suddenly he seems nervous, and he gives you a quick fake smile to placate your curiosity. “Yeah, everything is great. Why wouldn’t it be?” 

As he turns away from you, the sun catches in his hair and you think to yourself, ‘My god, he looks so handsome right now.’ Immediately you scold yourself for thinking such thoughts about Tommy, the guy who’s supposed to be your best friend. 

Glancing at him briefly to make sure he hasn’t looked back at  you yet, you let your eyes roam over his features. The sun is doing wonders for his freckles, contrasting beautifully with his bronzed skin. Realizing just how handsome your best friend, your fingers itch to run through those dark curls of his and mess them up. 

Furrowing your brow, you suddenly feel a tension between the two of you you’ve never felt before. Hoping to rid the situation of the newfound weirdness you let yourself gently grab his chin and turn his face back around to you. When he finally makes eye contact with you again, you ask him more gently, “Tommy, are you sure everything’s okay? You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

He swallows hard enough you hear it, and you see him building up the courage to tell you whatever it is that’s on his mind. Finally he exhales, seeming to have found the courage  he was looking for. Smiling his cheeky Tommy Miller smile at you, he answers,` “it’s nothin’, darlin’, I promise. It’s just… I mean… you’re so beautiful when you’re angry. I couldn’t help but stare.” 

 As he finishes, he slowly brings his hand up and gently begins to run the backs of his knuckles against your cheek. Your cheeks warm under his attention, and you gasp as you feel his hand make contact and your eyes flutter at the sensation; his touch is completely familiar and completely new to you at the same time. “Tommy. What are you do-“ 

“If you stop me now, I won’t be able to finish, sweetheart. Please, lemme finish this.”  Your jaw drops a little as he cuts you off, and you try to wrap your mind around what he’s saying. Tommy notices, smirks, and quickly picks up where he left off. “We’ve been friends for so long, and I wouldn’t be close to where I am now if it weren’t for you.” 

He gently turns his hand that’s caressing your cheekbone to cup your face with it. Tears prickle in your eyes as you lean into the contact. He chuckles continuing, “I don’t even know when I realized the love I have for you went deeper than a platonic friendship, but now that I have I can’t imagine not telling you. You have the kindest, most beautiful soul I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, sweet girl. The way you go out of your way to be kind to everyone even when you’ve had a rough day never ceases to amaze me.” 

You realize he’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you bring your own hand up to rest on his, encouraging him to keep going. He doesn’t fail you. “God, I could spend hours counting the various shades in your eyes and never tire of it. Words will never be enough for how much I love you.” A stray tear falls down your cheek, and he lovingly brushes it away as his lips quirk.

“Darlin, are you getting emotional on me? I can’t quite tell if this is good crying or the type of crying you do before you let me down easy. Please, just let me go lick my wounds in pea-“ 

“Tommy!” You say with a grin. Shaking your head at his shenanigans, you continue. “You.. are so dumb. I love you too, and I can’t wait to kiss you.” Before he can make some sassy rebuttal, you close the distance between the two of you and gently press your lips to his.

The moment your lips touch, a feeling of being home takes over the two of you. Tommy brings his other hand up to cup your face in both his hands completely. You drop your hand to his chest, lightly gripping his shirt in your hand. Gentle pecks and whispered words of love between new lovers eventually become more urgent.

One of his hands drops to your waist, pulling you closer into his embrace. You feel his tongue gently swipe across your bottom lip, asking permission and you moan in response. 

Suddenly Tommy’s invading your mouth, making you question why you’d ever waited this long to be with him. When you decide to nibble his bottom lip, he groans in response, his hand on your waist dropping to your ass, firmly gripping it and pressing you even harder into him. The two of you continue kissing as Tommy leans up on an elbow and just enough over you to take charge of the kiss.

After a few more minutes, Tommy reluctantly pulls away from you, breathing tearing in and out of both your chests as he does. You look at him in confusion, wondering why he’s decided to stop. “Why’d you stop, Tommy? Things are just getting good,” you wink at him and graze your hand down his toned chest towards his belt buckle. 

Before you venture too far south his hand reaches up to stop you. The smile he gives you in return reminds you just how breathtakingly handsome he is, and you lean in to place another kiss on his lips, but he reaches out and stops you. 

Instead, he brings your forehead down and places a gentle kiss there. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to remember this moment forever. If I don’t stop kissing you now, I won’t have the strength to stop.” 

“And that’s a problem, big boy?” You pull away to look up at his lips, smiling lazily at him in response. He groans once more before answering you.

“Absolutely, honey. Now. Mama raised Joel and I to be gentlemen, and she’d skin me alive if I even thought about taking you for the first time out in broad daylight.” He says with conviction.  “If we’re going to do this, we’re going back to my place where I can take you apart the way I want to.” His eyes gleam with mischief as he looks at you. “So. What do you say?” 

[peachdues]

peach oh my LAWD phanta 3 was so good 🥺. Would you consider explaining the title a little more? i read the para at the end with it and i kind of got it, but i wanted to pick your brain a little too!

(I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to this pls don’t hate me too much).

First, thank you!! Second, I love this question bc honestly, the Phanta brain rot is still real. More below the cut since I went off lol.

spoilers below.

Almost everything in Phantasmagoria is, well, a phantasmagoria — an exhibition of optical effects and illusions; a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined.

Nearly every part of the story — character interactions, perspectives, plot points — is distorted in some way, whether it be by Wisteria/alcohol, grief, or just individual stubbornness.

The Wisteria is probably the most obvious example, as it literally distorts Reader’s perceptions of both herself, her environment, and her interactions with others

I was particular with not describing the Reader physically (even beyond her clothing) past that initial scene in Part I when she goes to the Kizuki for the first time with Mitsuri. When she does describe herself, she speaks of herself as a “raving princess” and “effervescent” — but nothing truly descriptive.

Why does it matter? Contrast that with the comments Sanemi makes about how he “wouldn’t have known it was her” (which later we find out is literally true); he also tells her, point blank, she looks gaunt, and she has no reaction whatsoever — not even an internal reaction. That’s the wisteria distorting her self-image, until she finally looks in the mirror at the end of Part II and fully sees herself for the first time in a while — and realizes what it has done.

But the Wisteria distorts other things too, namely, the appeal of the club/rave life that Reader throws herself into. At first, she calls it a paradise — it’s her escape from both her heartache and from herself in general. The club then distorts her perception of others — namely, Sanemi, like when she describes him as “menacing” under the club lights, and yet the flashback that immediately follows is one of the saddest in the series — and it shows that Sanemi is hurting just as much as she is. But the wisteria distorts everything around her, so she’s only seeing what she wants to see. Yet, when the illusion starts to crack, what happens? She panics — she describes the Kizuki as too loud, too claustrophobic; the Wisteria quite literally leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

The other major example of a phantasmagoria in the story is its main theme — grief. Anyone who has been up close and personal with grief can probably attest to the way it quite literally changes how you view everything — even if that means it narrows your perception (I.e. distorts it). Both Reader and Sanemi are grieving significant losses, and those losses make them blind to the other’s suffering in return. It’s not so much miscommunication as it is two kids who were forced to bear the weight of the world way too fast.

That grief then continues to distort their reality, but not in the sense that they’re misremembering events. Everything they say happened, actually happened. Y/N was abandoned by Kyojuro and Sanemi; but she distanced herself from them first, and she also abandoned Sanemi when he needed her. Neither of the boys were there for her while her mother was sick and when she died; but they didn’t know until it was too late. Sanemi did return her feelings 100% at the train station; but he was so overwhelmed and reeling from Genya’s death that he reacted poorly. Sanemi did see Y/N that day at the crosswalk; he just didn’t recognize her. Y/N was isolated after her mother died, but Sanemi was desperately trying to find her the whole time.

Thus, everything happened exactly the way both Y/N and Sanemi said it did, but their grief prohibited them from stepping back and seeing the broader picture — so their interpretation, though objectively true, is still distorted. This translates into other things as well, such as Y/N constantly misinterpreting Sanemi’s motives and efforts to make things right between them, because otherwise, it wouldn’t square with the understanding she has of what happened and why. She thinks he’s using her for convenience; he’s actually letting her use him in any way she wants just so he can have a chance to take care of her. She accuses him of being possessive because he feels entitled to her affection, but he actually loves her (deeply), and is terrified of losing her, because she is quite literally wasting away in front of him. She says he doesn’t care about her, yet she won’t let him. He tries to talk to her about everything right after they start hooking up, yet she refuses to engage. She runs away. She’s cold, and she shuts him down harshly even when he tries to offer her bare minimum affection and care (this also is supposed to contrast with what we know as the Reader, which is that she is still very much in love with him). We also find out that Sanemi spent every other weekend taking flowers to her mother’s grave — again, shattering that illusion she’s created in her mind that he doesn’t care about her.

It’s not until they finally hash everything out in the kitchen at Tengen’s that both realize they’ve been focusing on one narrow part of a much larger picture, and that they’ve both let their grief blind themselves to one another. When Y/N finally steps back and looks at the whole instead of the part, the illusion shatters. Love is the final phantasmagoria. Y/N realizes that she’s mistakenly believed she was running away from love (and thus, Sanemi) only to realize that not only has she been running in circles, but Sanemi has been running opposite of her the whole time. They’re two sides of the same coin; they were bound to crash into one another at some point.

This is just like, a bird’s eye overview of the mind map that I drew out in my journal for Phanta, and I’m sure I’m leaving something out. If y’all have any thoughts, I’m always happy to hear them (seriously).

Thank you for the ask, and I apologize that I went off the deep end lmao.

[incorrectinfinity]

Ok so hi I wrote an analysis for chapter 181 because my brain is rotted even without tumblr so here that is if you want to read it.

Tw for abuse and SA bc this last chapter was rough

Alright I'm writing this out on Oct 22 but by the time I'm posting this will probably be old news so apologies for that

1. Asa

The first expression shot we get of her says it all really. My homegirl is in denial.

Let's get some perspective here: up until a few chapters ago (I'll say it started at 167 aka Super Smooch aka THAT ONE CHAPTER. YOU KNOW THE ONE.) Asa and Yoru functioned as a well oiled machine, I made a post explaining this partially earlier but Asa and Yoru only really have eachother to rely upon at that point. It came to a point where they could easily swap in and out without being thrown off whatsoever, there was tangibly a growth and a difference made in their interactions. And then... well.

..yeah.

Ever since that point their relationship and in particular Asa's understanding of Yoru has been completely and utterly shattered. And yet... she hasn't said anything.

I just want a quick reminder for some of you: chronologically chapter 164 takes place in the same 24 hour period as 181.

Asa has had her world rocked in a single day, Yoru continuously and unapologetically using, manipulating, and framing her and her body constantly throughout that period to steal, assault, and kill. This has all happened really fast. Her expression in the first panel, that erratic and almost manic smile and her denial of the danger this threat poses truly signals her mental state right now.

She has to be able to do something about her situation right now lest she begins to fully realize the harm Yoru has done to her, Denji, and the world at large. She refuses to address it but you can tell how much it has been affecting her: from her snapping at Yoru easily, or her consistently fluctuating expressions, to her hyperfocusing on finding a way out to the point where she leaves Denji alone and unconscious. She does not want to address what has happened, and that is precisely why she is here - because she has to.

~

2. Denji

This poor fucking kid, man.

The breakdown was a long time coming ever since the "I wanna die" thought process from chapter 169 (which was before Nayuta, just as a reminder).

The fact that he blames himself is all too familiar, it hails back to Makima opening the door. He tried to live a normal life and this is what happened, so it must've been all his fault, just like Yoshida said. Because he always acts on impulse, because he always chooses his emotions over reason, because he always thinks with his dick. In his mind this has to be his retribution, that is the logic formed by those who have manipulated him.

His relationship with Asa (and Yoru) must be so fucking confusing.

If Asa and/or Yoru don't tell him the full truth of their nature soon I can only imagine what will happen next.

~

3. Yoru (& partially Denji still)

My favorite.

Yeah she's still my character. Yaaay 🎉🎊🎉🎊 I hope she fucking explodes 🎊🎉🎊🎉

First off, her seeing if she could kill herself.

Yoru has zero respect for Asa at all. Yeah, no you cannot convince me otherwise. Asa's body is a tool and Asa herself is a contract, that's it. Yoru needed Asa to be alive and cooperative so they built a mutual trust for one another, but Yoru is still a devil. She doesn't care about Asa, she cares about what Asa can do for her. At this point, Asa's usefulness is running out as she becomes more and more afraid of Yoru. Yoru can read her thoughts, at this point she knows what to say and do in order to make Asa tick, but she also knows that Asa is now aware of how monstrous she truly is. If Yoru killing Asa and herself worked it would be incredibly inconvenient at worst, but devils can come back, humans cannot.

Now Denji.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways so Yoru first interacts with Denji this chapter by verbally and a physically abusing him. I hate her. But I want to focus on the ending, as most people are. First off:

This. Yoru had so recently gotten some of her power back, a force so strong that it could come from New York City to Tokyo in mere moments and blow an entire city block into oblivion. Now she is powerless to such an extent to where she can't even threaten a teenage boy into submission. She has lost everything.

(Just also as a side note relating to Denji: his refusal to fight back in this moment is very much because of his belief that he deserves this. The abuse is apart of his "punishment")

War itself is not just violence, it's showing dominance over an opponent. Yoru in this moment cannot show dominance through violence so she is stuck, that's why she looks so distressed. Next:

The first panel Yoru is raising her arm in attack, but she isn't doing it with much force behind it. This is a realization of how she has lost her physical sway in this situation.

The next panel is her second attempt at dominance. If she cannot beat submission out of him she will take it another way, through forced intimacy. She has done this numerous times in various ways (mostly to Denji but she also did try to do it in chapter 99 when asking Yoshida to be her boyfriend), romantic and sexual relationships are ways she owns someone.

Denji's expression in that panel is really telling.

1. His desire for and shock from sudden intimacy is completely gone, he accepts whatever happens to him now. He thinks he deserves the worst.

2. His non-reaction means that Yoru cannot show dominance. She no longer has any sort of power over him now. She truly and utterly is stuck in that regard.

This chapter was an amazing set up for more characterization. These three are an absolute mess and I hope that Denji and Asa will be able to actually talk to eachother because they have not done that since 166. They have a lot to discuss.

I am brainrotting over this shit so fucking hard fam idk what to do it's so good 😭

~

Here's a link to my other Asa & Yoru analysis post for context

~

Side points I thought up after writing this:

Yoru kissing Denji could mean a lot of things beyond what I said.

1. It could be for Yoru's pleasure. Back in 168 Yoru specifically said that she kissed Denji because it felt good, this could be unreliable though as I do not trust Yoru to be telling the full truth to Denji in this moment.

2. (Relating to post linked above) Yoru using Denji could also be an act of her giving and then having things be taken from Asa. This is actually a very intriguing idea for me because when it comes to Yuko and Yoshida Yoru had absolutely nothing to do with those two and their actions, but she does with Denji. Denji being taken away from Asa's life would affect her. Her top priority of these last (almost) 30 chapters until Age was saving Denji. What will happen if someone using her own body is the one who breaks him.

I want to go into more detail when it comes to what I said about Yoru and Asa's effortless swapping that this point. Earlier in the part it was made pretty clear who was in control and when, it was mostly Asa in control with Yoru as a hallucination. Now things are changing as Yoru continues to show her true colors. In the beginning of the chapter Asa seems to be in control, but Yoru takes over her body. Now I may just be misunderstanding but that swap confused me at first as it wasn't made clear who was in control at that moment until Yoru interacts physically with things around her.

This isn't really a usually thing I was confused about, so I find it interesting. Yoru and Asa, despite their outward differences being shown loud and clear these last chapters, are becoming closer and closer to being one.

It's not just with control over the body, it's the body's appearance itself. For the majority of the part Asa and Yoru's designs were differentiated by two things: Yoru's scars and Asa's twin tails. Asa's physical hair has been down since chapter 175. In chapter 176 she claims Gun and Tank as her arms. Yoru is making physical differences to Asa's body. In a sense their visual designs are becoming more and more alike. This is so concerning and I love it.

I'm just going to say it outright: I am beginning to prepare myself for if Asa dies and/or looses herself completely.

Ok have fun with those little thought nuggets bye.

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Umbaran Pathogen - Day 6: Mind Control

Summary: The parasite that had burrowed into Tup's nervous system and altered his brain chemistry had more than taken a hold. It had begun to slowly turn Tup from the sweet caring brother he was, into a mockery of his former self. His mind so out of it that he no longer cared that he had completely overwritten his twin's free will into a vague idea of a happy and relaxed lackey.

Warning: Mentions of blood drinking, egg implantation, parasites, body horror and organic fleshy material used as a construction base (this chapter is a little bit gross but it's nothing too descriptive, just conceptual).

Prev / Next

[In which the events on Umbara are worsened by an unknown pathogen taking hold of both the 501st and 212th. These series of drabbles will follow a non-linear timeline based on the AI-less Whumptober prompt list for 2023.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

Tup couldn't help but smile as he felt the cool Umbaran breeze in his hair. His armour and helmet had begun to feel so terribly stuffy as of late, that being able to zip about with his face exposed for just a few minutes felt absolutely heavenly.

Alas it was but a fleeting moment of bliss, since it was not yet time for him to shed this plastoid shell. Not yet at least...

Everything was still (frustratingly) in the initial preparatory stages. Resources needed to be collected, more eggs needed to be planted in the Worker Cast candidates, and the Hive needed to be properly constructed to house all of those who'd be pupating soon. His loyal Drone had been doing a phenomenal job thus far. So eager to please. So happy to do whatever needed to be done to make Tup a happy, healthy and strong Hive Leader. Unshakably loyal.

He couldn't imagine why he'd ever been nervous when he'd first began to size Dogma up for this particular task. This new role of his. Nor could he remember why he'd felt so revolted when he'd first drawn blood from his little brother, to begin the vital egg production phase of their newfound life-cycles.

It was unfathomable to him why he'd found this heinous or disgusting. Especially now that he could see the end results.

Sure there was an absolutely gag-worthy ugly duckling stage. When the implantation spot first flared up in a desperate but futile attempt to fight against the little Larvae that emerged from the egg. The rash wasn't nice to look at, and the way it eventually spread as the body began to fully integrate the new genetic coding was... Well it was a little gross to bare witness to...

Dogma had looked pretty horrific when the changes overtook him. The pus-filled blisters and boils, the crusty eyes and dribbling nose, the pain on his feverish face had all but broken Tup's heart as he kept checking in on his pupating sibling.

He'd been more resistant than Tup had been to the lesser parasite's influence. Had tried to fight it off and even seek outside help from the medics. But then he'd finally succumbed to dronification completely, and his defiance had become open acceptance of his new nature. His mind calm, collected and his to do with as he wished.

And Tup wanted nothing more than to make his little brother happy. Make him feel safe. Which he did whenever he was near Tup. So he was doing a finer job than anyone else on this wretched planet.

The moment his rotting flesh sloughed off from his trembling body was also one to remember. The slick black and blue carapace, the long luminous wings and strong limbs, that powerful stinger, the twitching antennae and sharp mandibles...

He'd made his frightened and gangling little brother into a powerhouse. A warrior of epic proportions. Tup had made him into something infinitely stronger and more beautiful than any mere clone could ever hope to be, and yearned to do the same to all of the remaining vode. To make them better, stronger, less likely to be killed by that... That horrid brute...

The thought of Krell made Tup's blissful expression take on a much more sour note. The delight at feeling the cool wind lost, as he considered how to best deal with the Besalisk bastard that threatened his Hive's safety. That monster needed to be dealt with. Sooner rather than later, otherwise the few he'd already infected might not make it to the Pupa stage. The Nest needed to be finished soon. Which meant they needed more Larvae to begin producing material for construction.

That was exactly what they were doing. Dogma effortlessly carrying Tup between the 501st and 212th basecamps. Giving him ample opportunity to lay more eggs and spirit away those who housed a newly hatched Larvae to their forever home.

All organic matter they shed made fine building materials for a proper cozy nest. Insulating walls, cushioning surfaces, creating the perfect living space for Tup's Hive, and providing a surface for which the fungi and flowering plants they needed to thrive off of to grow on. They'd be self sustaining, seldom needing to go out hunting unless protein provisions ran low. Once Tup could finally pupate and become his bigger stronger more beautiful self, he'd be able to protect and provide for his family. His beloved Hive brothers.

And that was a thought that had him smiling again, pressing his face to the crook of Dogma's neck as he continued to carry him to and fro. Pleased to help in Tup's progress towards power and control. Relishing in his Hive Leader's noticeable satisfaction as he chaperoned him through the air.

Tup loved the new them. He was sure the rest of their brothers would love their new selves just as much. If not, then he'd simply make them. The Hive Leader knew best, after all.

[idyllic-affections]

HI just popping in bc of that recent post

i think it'd be really cool to see reader putting him into place but just add so much fucking angst in that too KHFKDJD, again, 2 traumatized people who meet in unfortunate times and instead of helping each other even tho both parties are aware of how fucked the other is they just... Somewhat destroy each other more?

because, as you've said, reader is so used with worse, but that doesn't mean it doesn't annoy them right? maybe reader snapped at scara because they were at the limit of their patience? I'm sure they'd feel empathy towards him, after all, poor guy is going through all of this and he's just part of dottore's bigger scheme, but the moment scara acts out, hurts them, they saw red and it just happened..

they didn't intend to do it, neither did scaramouche. they both did something that just, triggered their body's instinct because they both went through hell... I like the idea reader would be looking at their hands when scara visibly winces in pain or even sheds some tears but they clench their jaw and proceed with what they're doing. They've done worse, and they'll continue doing it because it's their just.

For scara and reader, it's just another normal day in the lab.

Sorry I just had a brain rot for that I'm so in love exploring unwell characters

HI MOOT HELLO you're so right btw i also love exploring unwell characters... the basis of every long fic i write is literally exploring Mental Illness HELSPDJSKG

scara and [name] could be so good for one another. they could be so helpful. ideally, they'd be something of a catalyst for recovery to one another... but neither of them are at that stage yet. neither of them are ready for recovery, because as you've said, this is normal for them, so they just make one another worse. constantly.

(i think dottore does this on purpose btw. it's something of a social experiment. he could do the maintenance, but... why would he, when there is the potential for a very fascinating encounter?)

[name] is very kind. it's an important theme in this fic. they're extremely empathetic, often regarded as some kind of saint among sinners by the unfortunate victims of dottore's endless curiosity. even though they have done very very awful things to keep themselves alive (which will also be explored in the fic teehee), they're regarded as just... very kind. very gentle. everything they do is always gentle.

and the day in particular in which [name] has to attend to scara's needs, they also happened to meet collei for the first time. the scared, crying, eleazar-ridden child that collei was.

they also, prior to that, were involved in a... very bloody experiment earlier in the day.

so, yeah. they've just about had it by the time they have to see scara.

they're so used to being passive all the time. they have to be. they're relatively strong, but... they can't defend themselves against any of the harbingers (or maybe they can, and they've just fallen victim to learned helplessness. who knows? 🫶), but being injured just triggers such a strong sense of fight or flight within them, because they're used to it being the segments that act out against them. they aren't used to scara acting out. they aren't used to sandrone's robots acting out (which they also help out with, just much more rarely).

put in that situation, they just can't help it when they tell him to stop acting like a fucking brat. they can't help it when they--very cruelly and insensitively--tell him that if he wants to be dottore's science project again, that's fine by them! why should they care what happens to him?!

...

the rest of his maintenance is carried out in heavy silence, of course. at least he stopped acting out. whoops. they could have been nicer, but they were just spread so thinly that day in particular.

they don't say anything when he whimpers after they prod a tender spot a little too hard.

he's used to it. he's used to it. he's used to it.

they just dissociate to get it over with faster. they don't like to think about being responsible for his tears. they don't like to think about how they're surely no better than their boss.

they don't really like thinking about those things in these situations, so they dissociate to fix it.