#ok time for me to go on yet more rambles

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[sparky-is-spiders]

For the anon request: "Elias cooking. Jon feels normal about it"

So I wrote a bit of this at home, a good chunk on an NYC subway, a decent amount on a plane, and the rest this morning in an airport while running on persistent low-level anxiety, about 45 minutes of sleep, and one (1) donut. 90% of the edits were correcting "Jonathan"s back into "Jon"s because my note app cannot conceive of a short nickname.

Anyway, I hope this is alright. I'm going to be honest I'm pretty sure I gave Jon too much of my voice here but I'm tired so it's staying. JonI'm so sorry I'm so mean to you in this. It's projection I'm giving you all my social issues.

Anyway I just want to say that it's probably best to imagine the "is this a pigeon meme while reading this. Only the guy is me and the caption is "is this a romantic relationship?" Because oh boy does none of my knowledge there come from practical experience (or even a real interest in having one of those). So. If this is unrealistic behavior for a dude dating his boss that'd be why lol. Anyway I am proud of how much scenery describing I did. It's my least favorite part but I know its important. Whatever that's enough background info. No serious TWs needed I think? Jon is a disaster so if you're very very sensitive to potential second-hand embarrassment I guess there's that?? But it's pretty minor I think.

Jon can't help but glance nervously at every tube stop. It's embarassing, really. The odds of a coworker getting on this specific train car at this specific time are so low that it's laughable to think about. Besides, he's hardly doing anything wrong. Taking the tube isn't a crime. It's not against institute policy to have dinner with someone.

(It is absolutely against institute policy to be having a romantic dinner with this particular someone. In all aspects, this is a terrible idea that Jon should never have agreed to.)

Realistically, if any of his co-workers spotted Jonathan Sims From Research on the tube, they would follow the sacred rules of public transport and not speak to him, and then forget it all the next day anyway. Perhaps they would assume he was running errands, or going to a museum, or (in a generous over-estimation of his social life) going to spend time with a friend. If they spotted Jonathan Sims From Research glancing around furtively and looking extremely nervous while on the tube, they might have questions. Some of the nosier ones might even ask him. Certainly, it would end up in the institute's highly active gossip mills. He certainly doesn't want any undue attention trained on him. Especially now that he and Elias are... well.

Jon is an embarrassing seventeen minutes early. Part of him considers going for a nice, relaxing stroll through the neighborhood, but he feels that might be both creepy and pathetic. Besides, giving him yet more time to think might make him too anxious to show. He’s fairly certain the only reason he was able to make it this far was the narrow focus of traveling to an unfamiliar place on time.

(An unfamiliar place. Like he was visiting some far-off city somewhere and not a different part of the city he’d lived in for the better part of a decade.)

Elias apparently lives in a quaint townhouse in Chelsea. The bricks a re a cozy red-brown, with a charcoal gray roof and white trimming. There is a small, neatly manicured lawn surrounded by a brick fence that comes up to Jon’s chest. There’s a garden plot nestled against the wall beneath a window with a few coniferous shrubs and a dying azalea bush. It would look like every other townhouse on the street (and just about every townhouse Jon had ever seen), if it weren’t for the complete lack of personal touch. Jon checks the little slip of paper Elias had written his address on just to be sure he’s in the right place. It is exactly the same as the last dozen or so times he looked.

Jon feels a prickle at the back of his neck and whips around. Across the way, a couple are watching him. Do they think he’s suspicious? That he doesn’t belong here? Do they know that he’s here to see Elias? Do they know why? It’s all ludicrous, of course. It’s not as if they know him or that they could read his mind. But something about this whole situation makes him feel as if he has “I’m having an affair with my boss” scrawled all over his face. He turns swiftly, marches up to Elias’ front door, and knocks.

Barely a minute later, Elias flings the door open. The first thing that Jon notices is that he looks somewhat harried. The second thing he notices is that Elias is wearing an apron, which is apparently enough to short out something in Jon's brain. In theory, Jon was aware that Elias probably wouldn’t invite him for dinner just to order takeout, and that he must surely cook his own meals at least occasionally, but there’s something so bizarre and incongruent about the sight that Jon momentarily forgets himself.

“Ah, Jonathan. You’re here early,” Elias ushers him in with a hand that has flecks of sauce on it, and Jon snaps out of his… momentary lapse. “Get the door, would you? You can put your bag down on the table there.” Elias is already walking off somewhere, probably the kitchen. Jon follows his instructions and takes a moment to consider whether or not he should take off his shoes as well. Was Elias wearing shoes? He can’t remember. The apron was sort of distracting. It was a deep, rich green. There was a floral pattern, Jon was pretty sure.

You’re being ridiculous. Focus.

There’s a shoe rack next to the table Elias asked him to place his bag on, and Jon is pretty sure he recognizes Elias’ normal work shoes. He tries not to think about what it means that he can recognize Elias’ footwear and toes off his own shoes, leaving them beside the rack.

As he slowly wanders in the general direction Elias went, he takes stock of the house. The walls are a bland, inoffensive beige. The shoe rack, table, and coat rack are all the same medium brown wood, and are the only items of furniture in the entryway. There’s a mirror above the accent table and a welcome mat with a mossy coloration (Jon wonders if he should put his shoes back on again to wipe them down, but thinks better of it). A narrow stairwell leads up into a darkened second story. Through a curved archway opposite the stairs, he can see into a living room with dark gray, blocky furniture and an old brick fireplace. Much like the garden, it’s neat and orderly, but bare of anything personal. No mess, no photos, no… charming knick-knacks. It rather reminds Jon of his own flat, really, although Jon’s isn’t quite so tidy.

He’s tempted to wander off and explore the living room or the shadowy upstairs, but he hears Elias calling his name from somewhere deeper into the house.

Down the hall and to the left, past where the stairs end, is a nice dining room. The walls have a dark red wallpaper with creeping black vines, and the table and chairs are made of a deep, dark wood. There’s a bar in the back of the room, and a lone potted plant in the far right corner sits silent vigil over the space.

At the end of the hallway is a door (closet? bathroom?), and to the right is another archway leading into the kitchen. Elias is in there, stirring something in one of several large pots on the stove. He’s wearing a white button-up, ash-gray slacks, and the apron. It does indeed have a floral pattern. And soup splatters. Jon has no idea why it matters so much to him. There’s something domestic about it, he thinks. He’s reminded of quiet evenings doing homework at the dining room table, listening to his grandmother cook. It inspires all sorts of wild fantasies in his mind where Elias and him live together and Jon sees this every morning. Which is tremendously inappropriate for a fling this new, especially when he knows it’s bound to go down in flames somehow (Jon isn’t stupid. He knows how romantic entanglements with one’s boss tend to go. This can’t possibly last). But he watches Elias cook pasta for them and no matter what he tries to tell himself, his brain just won’t listen.

At some point, Jon comes to the realization that he hasn’t said a word since he got here. The silence had felt companionable but now he wonders if it was simply awkward. It would hardly be the first time. He should say something, probably. Unfortunately, the words just won’t come.

Thankfully, Elias saves him from the quickly growing awkward silence. “My apologies for making you wait. I got caught up in work, so dinner will be slightly late,” he gestures to his clothes with the hand that isn’t stirring sauce. “I had hoped to be more… presentable.”

“It’s quite alright. And you look…” Jon searches for a word that conveys seeing you like this makes me want to keep you in my life forever but which also does not imply that Jon might have any real opinions on the subject. He dodges perfectly adequate at the last minute (he is, despite all evidence to the contrary, socially aware enough to know how that might be received) and settles on “nice.” Elias looks at him and does something with his eyebrows. Jon thinks he might be amused.

Before Jon can either insult him or reveal any hints of emotional vulnerability, he plows on. “I should probably apologize as well, for arriving so early.”

Elias chuckles warmly. “Well, I appreciate the eagerness.”

While Jon is trying to find a way to bridge the gap between I spent almost the entire day fretting over this dinner and an hour pacing my flat and I need this to work out quite terribly and I am invested in this relationship at the bare minimum of whatever is socially acceptable, a timer dings.

Elias gently taps his wooden spoon against a pot three times. “Ah. There we are then. I would very much like to go freshen up. Would you mind setting the table, dear?” And then Elias is striding out of the room, while Jon tries very hard to remember all the symptoms of a heart attack and compare them to whatever it is that’s happening in his chest cavity.

…

[triglycercule]

What do you think the types of drunk would the murder trio be? Im pretty sure ask dusttale already answered this question about dust but i have to ask the mtt expert

see now askdusttale DID answer the question. but they didn't ANSWER the question when asked what dust is like drunk. they just said that dust is the type to drink himself blackout drunk. so that mean i have total freedom on deciding what the mtt are like drunk hehehe (rubs hands together in a villanous way that you would imagine nightmare doing or something idk)

i already have an absolutely hilarious idea for horror and it might just because i'm on the guilt section of his character analysis but i could TOTALLY imagine him being an emotional drunk. like he CRIES. horror sans man known for being incredibly guarded and private with what he feels bawling his eye out. he gets mad he gets sad he does not get happy because horror doesn't have the right to be happy. he is too upset over the fact that he fucking DOOMED all of horrortale because of his selfishness and nothing can stop him from being incredibly vocal about that fact so much so that killer had to tape his mouth shut because he wouldn't stop crying so loud. and then he just silently cries until he passes out from exhaustion. the alcohol has an incredibly strong effect on him because i dont think he would drink regularly plus he definitely hasnt drinken anything in those 7 years of starvation. it hits like a fucking plane crashing into him. or like getting his eye taken out again. either one!

another funny idea i had for killer would be like the alcohol affecting him but he SWEARS that he's still sober. he is very confused when he starts stumbling because wtf he doesnt FEEL drunk??? why is he bumping into walls and tables HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND FUCKING STUPID???? the alcohol is definitely effecting him but he swears he swears he doesn't feel drunk. hes not drunk its just the damn body doing this stupid bullshit!!!! he's still very aware of what's going on and is basically the same as sober but just like. he's wiggly he's wobbly and oh shit he just fell head face first into a tv whoops. he'd also have a high tolerance because just because. he can drink without feeling like shit until he just blacks out mid conversation with someone because his body couldn't take the toll of all the beer or whatever. hilarious idea triglycercule thank you triglycercule i know

dust in the context that we already know that he drinks AND he can fight against the human while like partially drunk.... i feel it would be kinda like a giggly drunk situation. except dust doesn't laugh at anything that's funny he only laughs when someone gets hurt or something. SADISTIC giggly drunk. because i can already imagine a half drunk dust laughing his ass off after killing the human and its a beautiful sight to me.

anyways imagine how it goes when you pair this sadistic giggly drunk with another that wont stop going through the 5 stages of grief and another that keeps on fucking falling over for no reason in his eyes. dream blunt rotation but the blunt is a bottle of vodka. i can already imagine it in my head and its fucking HILARIOUS. horror going on about how he caused the deaths of others and manipulated and tricked papyrus while killer is just trying his best to keep his eyes open because for some reason they won't stop trying to close. he is surprisingly getting frustated. dust has long since lost his voice laughing at this and he's just silent wheezing at everything. also phantom papyrus is only making the laughter worse because he keeps on making rude comments towards horror and killer and only he can hear him and its guffaw inducing. mtt amazing friend group you dont get shit like this anywhere else

[starboundsingularities]

tbh it's really always bothered me a bit that they never actually get into the consequences of misusing the magatama. sure, sure, they say your soul shatters, and like, yeah that's ominous and all, but what does it mean? obviously we never get to see that in-game but i've been thinking about it a lot and i would like to present these thoughts because oh boy there are a lot of them. long post under cut but it's a fun little au as well

alright so before getting into it all, obviously there are some things we're aiming to explain, in some sense, with this.

for one: what is a soul, even? most depictions of souls portray them as the very essence of one's self, as the "culmination of your being" or as some similar nebulous expression of an entire person. but... well, if a soul was the entirety of a person, what would that soul shattering entail? it would just kill them. which is a valid reading i guess but not very fun to mess around with and is also a reading that comes with some... troubling implications.

most notably, the meter on how close you are to that breaking point while using the magatama is the same meter as your penalties in court. not just in the asset used, which wouldn't be worth bringing up, but in the sense that once the magatama is introduced, that same value that meter is held at is shared between court trials and the magatama. before the introduction of the magatama, that meter refilled automatically between trials, each trial starting with it completely full, but after the introduction of the magatama, it was only ever refilled by successfully breaking psyche-locks. this is concerning, because it implies a direct connection between phoenix's soul and his performance in court, which probably wasn't intended but is very fun to mess around with and i love the idea of your soul being tied to your passions. however i don't love the idea of him Straight Up Dying if he does too poorly in court so. uh, no insta-death for soul shattering. anyways this whole side tangent never comes up again. thumbs up emoji.

anyways, if a soul shattering doesn't entail simply death, and if a soul isn't just someone's essence or personality or whatever, well, what is it? well, one compelling answer is that it's merely a container. it holds someone's essence or being or personality, but it itself is not that.

thus i present:

Soul Shatter AU

a soul is just a container. one that holds everything in. someone's passions, ambitions, personality.

someone's secrets.

if it were to shatter... without a container, everything would come spilling out. whoever was involved would be unable to keep anything contained within themself. sure, their physical self might be enough to hold in some of the more ambiguous, nebulous aspects of their "self", but it would prove rather difficult to hide something with nothing there to keep it hidden inside.

a fitting punishment, really, for abusing the power to reveal what others have kept hidden.

the fun part, of course, is what comes next. who's used the magatama? who's had the chance to fall to such a fate?

off the top of my head i can think of two people. phoenix wright and miles edgeworth. (i think mia used one too? my friend says she did but i haven't gotten to that part yet i'm only on the third game)

and both of them, despite their focus on finding the truth, are very ironically prone to hiding things themselves. their feelings, their troubles, their emotions.

what if we opened them up a little?

[souptomatobasil]

Hello and welcome to the "ah fuck i skipped like two updates by accident" MEGA UPDATE Whoops <3 Anyway here's everything you missed ok im gonna go back to working on the rest of the comic now <3

[First] [Previous] [Next] [Asterales]

[minhmynchi]

its 4 am and well, im not doomscrolling but i have thoughts lol... i should turn them off and go back to sleep

[gemharvest]

I'M FREE

[nandalikesstuff]

The universe knows if I could write consistently I'd be the most powerful writer in existence which is why every time I start getting a bit of a writing groove going it has to nerf me from existence

[eggmeralda]

I need a massive sudden hyperfixation shock to happen again

[arolesbianism]

Every now and then I have to remember I got into oni for the gameplay. I bought the game solely because the gameplay looked interesting to me. Even once I realized there was lore I actively decided I didn't care enough to go through it. I fell down the rabbit hole on Accident. And it's all because I read scientist Bubble's journals and realized that onis story was the most me bait thing I've ever seen Ever

[roseverdict]

.

[tooies]

fm funk fursday: jan 5th 2023

ok yeah its fm funk fursday now. ive decided because i can decide these things and what the hell am i supposed to do. not be insane about the new album i found yesterday? i am transfem; it's vital to my mental health that i do this. also im still on the initial wave of energy i get from my adderall. either way here's the song

[heyitslapis]

My posts are always like a fucking iceberg

[kawaiianimeredhead]

I can't believe after what felt like years (but probably wasnt) of not feeling like I have a full hyperfixation thing going on with any sort of media

I get a hyperfixation on two cosplayers on tiktok* doing mario fanfiction

I do not know how to feel about it

(*that I'm watching on youtube)

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.