#to see such a contrast between how i know i used to be and how i am now.

[whiteferraristurns]

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ⚠︎︎ none. no use y/n. fluff

Bri ༯ rapper chris!!👅

reblogs, likes and comments are heavily appreciated ᥫ᭡

Late Night in the Studio

The hum of the city faded into the background as you entered the studio, a small black bag clutched in your hand. The dim, moody lights cast a soft glow over the walls lined with platinum records, awards, and Chris's signature graffiti art—raw, messy, undeniably his. The faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla drifted from the candles flickering on the windowsill, the only soft contrast to the electric energy in the room. The space felt familiar, yet every time you entered, the charged energy made you feel like you were stepping into another world.

It was late—later than you would have preferred to be out on a Thursday night—but Chris had insisted, and you couldn’t deny the pull his voice held over you. You were used to the chaos that came with his life, the late-night calls and the constant tug-of-war between your schedules. But something about tonight felt different.

You leaned against the doorway watching how the pink lights lit up his features perfectly. “You look like you’re thinking hard over there,” Chris turned, adjusting his headphones before pulling them down to hang around his neck. He shot you that lazy grin that always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. 

“Just wondering why you’ve got me out here at midnight,” you teased, your  lips pulling up into a smile. “Don’t you ever sleep?” Chris shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets with that lazy, too-cool look he always wore. “Can’t sleep when I’ve got inspiration running through me. You should know that by now.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a seat on the leather couch that stretched against the wall. It was worn and cracked, but you’d spent enough time here that it almost felt like home. “So I’m here to be your muse?” You arched an eyebrow, teasing, but deep down, you couldn’t deny the warmth his words brought.

Chris didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers ran over the soundboard, tweaking a few settings as he let the beat play softly in the background. He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyes dark and serious. “Actually, yeah. This one’s got your name all over it.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. Your heart skipped, but you tried to play it cool, tilting your head with a small smile. “You really expect me to believe you wrote a whole song about me?”

He nodded, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s wouldn't be the first one”

Your mouth went dry. You knew he poured his life into his music, but the idea that he’d written about you was something else. You glanced away, biting your lip to hide the mix of emotions swirling inside you. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Don’t say anything,” he murmured, leaning against the soundboard as he met your gaze. “Just… listen.” Chris hit play, and the room filled with a steady, soulful beat, layered with smooth guitar riffs that softened the intensity of the bassline. Then his voice cut through, raw and honest, each line hitting like a confession.

“She’s the pulse that keeps me steady, when the world’s too loud to bear. She’s the reason why I’m breathing, even when there’s smoke in the air.”

The lyrics rolled over you, each word hitting deeper than you’d expected. You breath caught as you heard the pain, the longing, the way he seemed to reach for you through every line. It wasn’t just a song. It was a part of him—a part of your bond. You listened, your hand messing the necklace he had gotten you for your birthday. As his voice continued, weaving a story of nights you’d spent together, of whispered words in dim rooms, of a connection that neither of you knew how to define.

“She’s the storm that keeps me grounded, the spark behind every verse,” he rapped, his voice deep and resonant, each word laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “When I’m lost in this world, she pulls me down to earth.”

The track finally faded into silence, you blinked, realizing your eyes were damp. You hadn’t even noticed the tears pooling, too wrapped up in the emotion of it all.

“Chris…” you started, but words failed you. How could you tell him that you felt it too, that every time he left for another city or hit the stage, you were there with him, a part of your  heart stitched into every lyric?

He crossed the room, sitting beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours. The air between you both was thick with things unsaid, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“It’s not easy, you know?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “Balancing all this. Sometimes, I don’t know how much longer I can keep pulling you into this world.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You’d always known that dating Chris meant sacrifice, meant that your time was often borrowed and fleeting. But the thought of letting him go was harder than you wanted to admit.

“You’re not pulling me anywhere, Chris,” you whispered back, your hand reaching out to brush his. “I’m here because I want to be.”

For a moment, he looked away, his jaw tight. You knew that look—he wore it when he was fighting back something deeper, something vulnerable. You reached out, your hand resting on his, grounding him. Slowly, he turned back to you, his fingers threading through yours.

“What if it’s too much?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. “What if… I’m too much?”

You shook her head, squeezing his hand. “You could never be too much, Chris. You’re just… everything.”

Your words hung in the air, soft and steady, the truth of them lingering between you. And in that moment, you felt like you were finally laying your cards on the table, every piece of your heart exposed. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you two, your lips brushing his in a gentle, tender kiss that held everything you couldn’t put into words.

When you pulled away, he held you close, his forehead resting against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you stayed like that, just breathing, just existing in the same space.

“I don’t know where this is going,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “but I want to figure it out with you.”

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle in her heart. “We’ll figure it out, one verse at a time.”

And as you sat together in the dim studio, surrounded by his music, you knew that whatever happened, you’d face it together—through the highs, the lows, and everything in between. Because no matter what, you had each other, and that was enough.

Bri ༯ short n’ sweet. please tell how this was I lowk hate it😭

more fic’s will be out soon I just thought I’d post this one now since it’s been sitting in my drafts since the day after the video

T͙A͙G͙L͙I͙S͙T͙ ᡣ𐭩

@sturniqloo @iillovechris @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @ghostlyplug @mattsfavginger @chrissturnioloenthusiastforlife @ncm9696 @starfuckoff @heartz4matt

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦.

— pairing; silver x ramshackle! reader

— summary; silver uses his unique magic to soothe you after you have a nightmare.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ What with all the house wardens over blotting one after another, and your growing anxiety to return home, it’s no wonder that you’ve been plagued with nightmares lately, ones that have you jolting awake in the middle of the night, heart racing, gripped with a lingering sense of dread.

❋ It’s the kind of exhaustion that even your friends notice, and Grim’s especially on edge because he misses the way you’d smile when you woke up and found him curled up next to you.

❋ Like many of your concerned friends, Silver’s seen the dark half-moons ringing your eyes, how your smiles are few and far in between these days. He wishes he could help somehow — and as he drifts off to sleep that night himself, his unique magic starts to work.

❋ When his eyes flicker open once more, he finds himself in your dream, surrounded by shadows and an eerie stillness. He's trapped inside one of your nightmares. Silver feels a pang of protectiveness and moves closer, his heart stirring as he sees you curled up, tense even in your sleep.

❋ He gently takes your hand, his presence calm and grounding in the storm of your nightmare. Quietly, he begins to hum a lullaby. It’s a melody he remembers Lilia singing to him when he was younger. His voice is soft, but steady, wrapping around you like a protective charm.

A warm cradle Starlight and joy My eyes are watching over you still, let’s be together With no fear, even if we wake from this dream Sleep, sleep, my beloved child In dreams, I pray you would be guided to walk toward the light

❋ His soothing lullaby fills your dreams, a serene contrast to the chaos of your nightmares. It brings you a sense of peace, and slowly, the nightmares fade away, replaced by a gentle warmth. You find yourself relaxing, the bitter tension in your body draining away.

❋ Though you don’t remember much of the dream when you wake up, there’s a strange peace in your heart and a vague feeling of warmth. It’s like someone was there to chase away the darkness, someone with a voice as soft as moonlight.

❋ Over the next few days, the lullaby sticks with you, and you catch yourself humming it absentmindedly as you move through the college hallways. But whenever you try to place it, it slips through your fingers like water, a memory from a far-off dream.

❋ “A warm cradle . . . something something. Mhmm mhmmm . . . Uh . . . I’m always watching you, together forever . . .”

❋ (Okay, so you might have butchered it just a bit.)

❋ Regardless, Malleus and Lilia overhear your singing and it makes them freeze.

❋ Lilia’s eyes are practically glowing. He knows that song; he used to sing to both Silver and Malleus when they were younger.

❋ Floating over (and scaring you witless in the process), Lilia gives you a knowing smile and asks playfully, “Now, where did you hear that song, dear? It’s an old favourite of mine.”

❋ You tilt your head thoughtfully, your brow furrowing as you try to recall. “I think . . . It was in a dream?” The words feel strangely fitting, almost poetic. “Once upon a dream . . .”

❋ Lilia chuckles softly, sharing a knowing grin with Malleus. He can already guess the truth – it wasn’t Malleus who sang that song, and it definitely wasn’t him. It could only be Silver.

❋ Lilia decides to keep his son’s secret for now. He’s sure that you’ll find out for yourself one day, but for now, he’s just enjoying seeing this young love play out.

[koji-haru]

Swap AU Part: 13

It was another day of being by his lonesome, having successfully avoided both Lucifer and Lilith for most of the day. It wasn’t like he hated them or anything like that, he just couldn’t help but feel a burning envy at what they have whenever he saw either one of them. It didn’t help that somewhere deep inside him still somewhat resented Lucifer for his betrayal of Michael. He hated feeling those, hated knowing he could have these feelings, and so, he avoided them both just to avoid watering those negative emotions into growing bigger. Adam stared at his reflection on the lake’s surface, tinted slightly orange as the sun slowly sank lower towards the horizon. What was he to do now? He wasn’t particularly on board with the whole starting humanity thing anymore…

As if on cue, a gentle voice called out to him. “Hello, Adam.”

Adam looked up from his reflection and saw the being he really didn’t want to see for a while, or ever. 

“What are you doing here by yourself? Where’s Lilith?,” asked Sera as she made her way towards the first man, her beautiful lilac dress softly trailing behind her. 

Adam didn’t respond, even as she sat beside him, keeping his gaze back down on his wavy reflection on the water. 

“Adam?” Sera placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her brows furrowed in visible concern. 

“I wanted to be alone,” he finally responded, though he didn’t raise his gaze.

Oh dear, that didn’t sound so good. Sera gave the humans in the garden some time to settle amongst themselves as Lucifer had suggested a few days prior. However, seeing Adam like this and Lilith not being present told her that clearly time by itself wasn’t enough. 

“Adam,” she sighed. “You shouldn’t avoid Lilith like that.”

“I don’t want Lilith. I want…,” he argued, his voice trembling slightly. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, not wishing to spill anymore tears. 

“You know that’s not possible,” Sera reminded him. “You are the first man, and you have a duty given to you by our Father. It’s best if you move on.”

No response. It seemed that Adam had gone back to staring at his reflection on the water, clearly not wanting to accept Sera’s words. Eventually, Sera stood back up, one hand softly patting Adam’s head. 

“Well, I must head back now.” She looked down at the human sitting on the rock beside her. She remembered when he used to beam with excitement during the rare times she did visit the garden. Now, he refused to even look at her. But that was alright, young souls tended to be unable to see the bigger picture and what was best for them. He just needed some help, a little push, and hopefully things would go back on track, as it always should’ve been. “Take care of yourself, Adam.” And with a shimmer of gentle light that slowly faded into nothing, Adam was alone once more. 

A dark blue hue had already covered the sky by the time Adam had returned to his cave, all nice and dark and…gloomy. He stood there by the entrance letting its cold emptiness fully sink into him before dragging himself inside and flopping on his bed made of leaves, allowing today’s exhaustion to spill out of him. His muscles felt stiff and tense, his bones heavy; he hadn’t done much today, as he had been in the last few days, but Sera’s presence and their conversation drained whatever energy he still had away. Even from where he currently was, Adam could still see the stars glistening in the dark sky as if they were peeking inside to cheer him up. They kind of reminded him of Michael and the little stars that were scattered between his eyes and cheeks; golden and pretty, a warmth in the cold air. The little light that managed to reach into the cave and onto his face somehow felt soothing, almost like a lover’s soft kiss. And with that thought, Adam let the night welcome him into dreams. 

In contrast to how peaceful he felt as he fell into sleep, Adam’s night time rest didn’t feel all that, well, restful. He felt like he should be in pain, but he was not. It felt like there was something probing inside him, searching carefully for something, one by one as if considering their many options. And then something disconnected. The unwelcome probing stopped, and yet now there was this ache of missing something – as if he lost a part of him. Adam wanted to wake up, he could feel his consciousness trying to grasp out of the mud he was trapped in, and yet his body wouldn’t listen, still entrenched in deep sleep. Soon, panic arrived in small but unending waves, piling its debris on top of each other, allowing it to grow taller and taller, wobbling unsteadily until eventually a strong gust of wind sent it crashing down.

Adam bolted upright, gasping desperately for air as a slight pain blossomed around his chest. Faint yellow rays invaded the cave, slowly brightening the space up; the air was still slightly cool and the birds were more than halfway done with their morning songs. Adam placed a hand over his chest, his heart still beating rapidly from the odd sensation he felt during the night. With slow deep breaths, he eventually managed to calm his heart down, the panic that built up slowly being washed away. But then he was fully awake now, fully aware of what and where he was once more, and the loneliness that came with it. 

Just as he was about to sink back into his bed and waste the day away as he usually did, a shadow crossed his features, quickly getting bigger until it covered him entirely. There, in front of him, stood a woman, human just like him. It would be odd for Lilith to suddenly enter his own space, especially this early in the morning, but this was even more odd. The human in front of him was a woman alright, but Adam was definitely sure it wasn’t Lilith. For one, Lilith had long flowing blonde hair, this one had shorter, but still long red locks in thick waves; Two, Lilith had sharp looking amethyst eyes and milky white skin, this one had round, soft blue eyes and a sun kissed complexion similar to Adam’s. 

“Who–?”

“Oh! You’re finally awake!,” the woman said, her voice sweet and lively. “Hello Adam! I’m Eve, the second woman and your new wife!”

A weird high pitched sound buzzed inside Adam’s head as he simply sat there speechless, bemused by what he just heard and saw. Was he still asleep? Was dreaming still? He rubbed his eyes and when Eve remained standing in front of him, he rubbed them again and again and again. Eventually, he ended up needing to stop when his eyes hurt too much and Eve still remained where she stood. 

“Um…,” Eve uttered, unsure what to make of Adam’s behaviour. So instead, she revealed the basket she had been hiding behind her back and showed it to Adam. “I got us breakfast!” Shoved in front of Adam was a basket filled with fruits ranging from small berries to medium sized honeydew melons, all looking ripe and freshly picked. “I wasn’t sure which ones were your favourite so I just got everything I could,” she explained.

“W-wait, I don’t…,” Adam stammered, unable to properly express the cloud of confusion in his mind. He pushed the basket away from him and glanced back towards Eve. She was definitely a brand new human. “Since when? I mean, I’ve never seen you before.”

“I was made just this morning,” Eve smiled at him, placing the fruit basket on the ground as she took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I was told to love and care for you, and that your heart is in pain right now.” She grabbed both of Adam’s hands and held them warmly between hers. “But don’t worry! I promise to help you get better!”

Her smile was dazzling, it had a freshness and purity to it like fresh morning dew glistening under early morning rays. She had a presence that was freeing as it was captivating. In another life, Adam would’ve instantly fallen for such beauty, loving her for eternity with all of his heart. But his heart already belonged to another, entangled deeply in vines and he was more than content to keep his heart there. 

“I…I’m sorry Eve.” Adam slowly peeled Eve’s warm hands from his own. “But I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

—-

Specks of bright light were peppered along Lilith’s long hair making its golden colour seem to shine ever brighter. Her pace was leisurely, though each step carried a purpose. She was looking for Adam, her other companion in this enclosed space she had to call her home. While Adam’s avoidance of both her and Lucifer hadn’t escaped her notice, she needed to find him and talk to him about keeping up appearances at the very least. Tales from Heaven she had received from her chosen husband, Lucifer, didn’t appear to bode well for either of them. They needed to form some sort of plan. 

Lilith continued her search throughout the garden; along the beach where little crabs burrowed themselves under the sand; across a meadow where butterflies fluttered alongside her; pass the safari where the golden fields swayed to the same rhythm as her hair; even by the lake that the first man often frequented to simply sit in silence. Everywhere she looked was devoid of the presence of the first man. For an enclosed space, the garden of Eden was vast and seemingly ever expanding, especially whenever she was out on an ‘adventure’. Eventually, she found herself back inside a forest, the canopy providing her plenty of shelter from the warm rays of the afternoon sun. As she continued her walk across the lush forest, the sound of water rushing over rocks, dragging pebbles and twigs along with them, got louder and clearer. But what really caught her attention was the sound of voices from where the stream seemed to be. Yes, voices, a pair of voices to be precise; one masculine – that sounded very much like the first man, the other higher in pitch and feminine and very unfamiliar to Lilith. 

Who could that be? 

With intense curiosity guiding her steps, Lilith made her way towards the pair of voices. Once she passed the treeline, the bright momentarily blinding her, with a hand raised to block out the sun, Lilith was greeted by the sight of…two humans? One was most definitely Adam, who seemed to be explaining something to the other human beside him. This other human resembled Lilith more than it did Adam, though the differences between them was stark. For instance, from what Lilith could judge from where she currently stood, this other human was shorter than her, and while its figure was of a similar to hers, its curves meandered much more than hers, and it had long bright red locks that flowed in thick waves from its head. Lilith made her way towards the pair, her steps light and quiet as she focused her attention in examining this new human in front of her. The closer she got, and the clearer the features of this new human became, it became apparent to her what this new human was. 

“Oh!,” the new human squeaked in pleasant surprise, its big round blues suddenly focused at the new presence approaching. 

Adam turned to look at what new other thing had caught her attention, “Oh, Lilith. This is–”

The new human quickly got up from where it sat beside Adam, excitedly making its way towards Lilith, the light of the day shimmering brightly on its eyes, a perfect smile on its plush lips, sweet like strawberries. 

“Hi!,” it grabbed Lilith’s hands, its warmth spreading to Lilith’s own cool temperature. “I’m called Eve! And I’m–”

“A new woman,” Lilith uttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Part 12

Part 14

[xiao-zhen]

Words Better Left Unread, or Is It? ~ Part III ☆

Part I Part II Part IV

Picture: Macaque's Dojo

“Shift a bit more to the right, Mk. To maintain your balance on your tail, you really need to tune into the sensation,” came the encouraging voice.

“It’s my tail, and I can definitely feel it! But no matter what I do, I keep tipping over!” Mk protested, frustration evident in his voice. He lost his balance again and landed unceremoniously on the ground with a soft, defeated “oof.” Wukong chuckled, but Mk could tell something was bothering him despite Wukong’s attempts to hide it. Mk paused and looked at Wukong, who was balancing on his tail. He always found it interesting that his tail was a little longer than Wukong’s but not as long as Macaque’s. When Wukong stood up, his tail didn’t quite reach the ground.

In contrast, Macaque’s tail appeared softer, and when it was raised, some of it even touched the ground. Mk realized that discussing Macaque might be a bit premature, as it would likely bother Wukong. However, knowing Mk’s curiosity, he couldn’t help but ask in a way that wasn’t very subtle; he ended up saying it out loud.

“So, Monkey King, why is Macaque's tail longer and fluffier than yours? And how is it that his tail is longer than ours, even though all three of us are monkey men?” Wukong didn't expect Mk to bring up Macaque, especially given the timing. Wukong's expression revealed that something was off, which Mk surprisingly noticed. Nevertheless, Wukong answered the question. 

"Some monkeys have different characteristics. I have less fur than Macaque. On my chest, there is a pink patch without any fur, while the macaque has a smaller, red patch that looks somewhat spiky but is soft, has a different shape, and is covered in fur. The same applies to our tails; his is long, mine is shorter, and yours is in-between compared to ours. But don't worry, you'll get a better sense of your monkey form at some point!"

Mk suddenly realized that Macaque was supposed to be at training today, just as he had promised. But where was he? Concerned, Mk turned to Wukong and asked, “Hey, did you see Macaque? He was supposed to be here for training today.” Wukong furrowed his brow, unsure of how to explain Macaque’s absence. He thought, Oh no, I really don’t want to have to tell Mk this. What could he even say? “Macaque writes letters to me that he never actually sends, using them to help process his emotions. Recently, Savage decided to give one of these letters to me. I couldn’t help but read it, and now Macaque is probably panicking and avoiding training to escape the situation.” Yeah, Wukong is definitely not on board with telling Mk.

Mk couldn't help but notice Wukong's reaction and asked, "What happened? Don’t tell me you two got into an argument, and he didn’t show up just to spite you?" Wukong froze; that wasn’t exactly what happened. It was partly true but also partly not. However, what Mk said next made Wukong freeze again—this was a terrible idea!

Mk crossed his arms, and frustration was evident in his voice. “Wukong, stop acting like a child! This isn’t just about you anymore,” he reprimanded, shaking his head. “You think I haven’t noticed how you’re handling this? If we don’t confront him together, we’re only making things worse!” He took a step closer, determined to get through to Wukong. “Macaque helped us defeat Lady Bone Demon and retrieve the scroll; he’s on our side! You need to trust that we can face this, but if you keep backing away, you only isolate yourself. We’re going, and that’s final!” His tone softened just a bit as he continued, “I know you’re scared, but you’re stronger than you think. We can do this together.” After that, Wukong looked like a dejected child, his shoulders slumping and his gaze cast downwards. The weight of doubt and fear clung to him, making it hard to find the resolve he once had. He seemed lost in thought, reflecting on the dangers ahead and the uncertainty of their mission. Clearly, the burden of their struggles weighed heavily on his heart, and the flicker of hope he had was now dimmed. 

Mk explained that he would take Wukong to see where Macaque lived, suggesting it might help clear the air. “I’ll wait outside while you two talk,” he said, trying to reassure Wukong. “Sometimes, facing someone in their own space can change everything.” He glanced at Wukong, gauging his reaction. “Just remember, this is about understanding and finding a way forward.” With a nod, Wukong seemed to soften a bit, the tension in his expression easing. They set off, hoping this meeting would be the first step toward healing the rifts between them.  He paced back and forth, gripping his hair in frustration. Mk couldn't help but say that he felt like the wise Subodhi. 

With Mk, they flew onto Wukong’s cloud in his bird transformation, guiding the way to Macaque’s dojo. When they landed, Wukong noticed the area where Macaque lived. “Is this where he lives? In this neighborhood? It’s a pretty dangerous area,” he remarked. Mk pointed out, “Yeah, but he’s the Six-Eared Macaque; he should be fine.” Wukong noted how Mk spoke about Macaque; it was clear the kid viewed him positively, seeing him as a warrior—the warrior he once was. Wukong then realized, “A dojo? His place is a dojo?” He couldn’t help but snicker, but his laughter quickly turned to nervousness as Mk approached the door to knock. 

They heard Macaque's voice drift through the air, husky and heavy with fatigue. "Not interested," he said. His tone had an unmistakable weariness, a grogginess that suggested he had endured a restless night. Clearly, he hadn't slept; the roughness of his voice indicated he had spent hours tossing and turning, possibly preoccupied with worry or contemplation. Wukong couldn't help but wonder if the arrival of that letter had affected Macaque to such a degree that it robbed him of his rest. This thought weighed heavily on him as he considered the depth of Macaque's unease. Mk also noticed it and looked at Wukong with concern, clearly showing that he cared for Macaque. Mk then spoke up, saying it was him and Wukong, just as they heard a loud noise of weapons clattering to the ground from somewhere high above in his place, followed by a muttered, “Crap.”

“Don’t you have training to get to? I didn’t feel up for it today, Kid. Maybe next week.”Mk knew he was avoiding Wukong, so he scolded Macaque to get him to open the door. “Come on, Macaque! I know you’re in there! You can’t just hide away like this,” he shouted, his voice a mix of frustration and urgency. “We need to talk, and you can’t keep shutting everyone out! I know you’re tired, but at least let me in to sort this out.” Despite his stern words, Mk couldn't shake the feeling of sympathy for Macaque, who looked weary and worn from a sleepless night. The silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the unsettling clinks of metal weapons being picked up and shifted around. Macaque remained detached, seemingly lost in his thoughts, choosing to ignore the attempt at conversation. Sensing the growing tension, Mk took a deep breath and prepared to speak again, hoping to reach the man behind the formidable façade. 

Mk inhaled deeply, the cool air filling his lungs as he raised his hand to the door, knocking firmly once more. The sound resonated softly through the stillness of the hallway, a solitary echo amidst the quiet. After what felt like an eternity of tense silence, the door creaked open slowly, revealing Macaque standing in the frame. His expression was palpable annoyance; his brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed as he glared at Mk. The irritation was evident on his face, as if the mere thought of facing Wukong’s familiar, with all its infuriating traits, had worn thin his patience.

“I’m not talking to him.”

He was, of course, referring to Wukong. Mk groaned and then began to plead, “Come on! Just talk to him! Think about how you worked together for the Lady Bone Demon and the ink scrolls. I know you both care more than you want to admit, and you miss each other—you miss the friendship! Just talk it out for once!” Wukong shifted uncomfortably, glancing around with anxious eyes as he stood in the shadow of Mk, his heart racing. The air was thick with tension, and he felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him, starkly contrasting with Mk's confident stance. As Mk continued, Macaque had enough. 

“Well, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, I haven’t slept, so I’m timing it. Come in.” Mk stayed outside and walked to the side, revealing the nervous wreck of the Monkey King. The door closed from behind Wukong when he nervously walked in. Wukong hated how it felt as if he had been “caught” reading the letter at this very moment. 

“I know you read that letter. Your impulsiveness couldn’t help it. Now get what you want to say out and leave.”

What Wukong said next surprised them both.

[ofswordsandpens]

I fear that "fire bending didn't come easy to zuko" and "zuko isn't a prodigy" (both true) has somehow snowballed into "zuko is a bad or at best average fire bender".... which simply isn't true, especially by the end of book 3

[rotisseries]

planet of love

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Thinking thoughts about Abuela being back and with this backstory about her being taken in by charlatans and Eddies whole catholic guilt thing and how the two things kind of play into one another as an exploration of faith and being taken in by something.

Abuela giving all her money to the tarot card readers etc because she was searching for something - for connection (with Abuelo) - trying to recapture what she had lost, and How Eddie has spoken about trying to re-find the magic he had with Shannon - how Eddie hasn't actually fully reconciled the Shannon of it all when it comes to relationships and how his Catholic guilt connects into that.

How Marisol as a physical representation of Catholicism is part of that narrative - how Eddie is entering a place where he has to chose his path - in order to move on from Shannon he needs to fully square the hole - catholic or non catholic. And how that needs to happen first - before he can begin his queer journey!

[averlym]

,,, sun-dappled sheets...

[theotherrichardpapen]

...because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we're doomed.

[jaevy]

your room was square

i once noticed from there

in your bed, as you slept

and i held my breath

everything had its own place

and i wondered what space would i take

in the order you kept

[inthecompanyofabengaltiger]

man am i over people who've never actually read asoiaf shitting on it lmao

[eugeniedanglars]

not people on reddit saying episode 5 of tlou was better than episode 3 because episode 3 was too “sentimental” while episode 5 captured the brutality of the game as though a huge part of what made episode 3 great wasn’t the fact that it was an unexpected spot of beauty and tenderness and love in the middle of an otherwise bleak story the same way bill and frank’s town was an oasis of peace and comfort in a harsh world

[ambreiiigns]

i wanna be someone who listens to misfits full time again wtf is ghost

[mootmuse]

Y'all. We've got to talk about that fucking gandalf big naturals joke.

If you're going to post a meme where the whole joke is just the image of a guy with tits, ha ha, look at this man, he's got tits, what more do I need to say about how hilarious that is, etc etc, at least tag it so people like me can block it. I get that none of y'all are thinking about what exactly it is you're laughing at, you don't mean it, but for a website full of people who never stop yelling at the top of their lungs about how trans inclusive they are, I'd think some of you guys could do a little better.

[paragonrobits]

some important calvin and hobbes facts in case you haven't read the original comic strip in a long time or only absorbed stuff on it from memes and out of context bits on here:

Calvin's last name has never been given, and neither has any of his parent's names. This was actually why his uncle Max only showed up for a brief storyline; the creator of the comic, Bill Watterson, ultimately felt that while it was fine to have him as someone for his parents to talk to, it felt far too awkward to never have Max refer to them by name and he never made a return appearance.

The general tone of the comic is fairly light-hearted, with a big emphasis on goofy slapstick comedy contrasted by clever wordplay and often surprising adult-centered jokes that'll hit you like a slap. A big part of the comedy is, as Watterson put it (paraphrased) "It's really funny to me when people express deeply stupid ideas with really fancy terminology." One notable example you might have seen is that one bit where Calvin asks his mom for money to buy a Satan-worshiping rock album and his mom replies that there's nothing genuine about them and they're just putting on the attitude for shock value, and comisserates with Calvin as he deplores that mainstream nihilism can't be trusted. He concludes that childhood is disillusioning.

There is a LOT of criticism of the extreme materialism and selfish mentality of the late 80s, when the comic was initially written. This may go a long way to explain how its aged so well; much of what it criticizes resonates well with people today.

Bill Watterson views comic strips a legitimate form of artwork, and repeatedly fought to have more space to draw more beautiful and artistic backgrounds, which was a very hard fight and unpopular even with other comic strip artists. He eventually did win some compromises and a lot of Calvin And Hobbes' artwork shows it, with the use of space to indicate time as well as a sharp contrast between the often plain environments of mundane life contrasted by the wildly beautiful imagery of Calvin's imagination (which often sports realistic depictions in an art shift of sorts).

Hobbes is explicitly not an imaginary friend, by word of Watterson himself. We don't know WHAT he is exactly, and Hobbes is apparently unaware of the strange nature of his reality; people look at him and only see an ordinary stuffed tiger plushie, but he has a tangible effect on the world that would be physically impossible for Calvin to do on his own. He's apparently been around for a while, and was apparently around when Calvin was a young baby.

On that note; Hobbes has implicitly killed (notably treated as both a gag and also with the vibe of 'he's a tiger, duh') and while he doesn't do it again on-screen, he doesn't have any moral issues about it. Calvin claims that he's never had trouble bringing Hobbes to school because the last time he did, Hobbes killed and ate a bully named Tommy Chestnut and simply comments that it was gross and he needed a bath. Calvin's tried to repeat this again, but Hobbes was grossed out at the thought having to eat a kid raw and not being allowed to use an oven first, or complaining that children are too fattening.

Hobbes became gradually less human-like in body language and more like an actual cat in both body language and behavior; this was due to Watterson drawing more inspiration from his cat, who also inspired a lot of Hobbes' running gags, such as pouncing on Calvin when he got home. Several years into the syndication of the strip, Watterson's cat passed away, and he did a tribute to her with a comic strip of the two of them agreeing to try to dream together so they can keep playing when they have to sleep; Watterson's commentary (if I recall right), remarks on his cat: "We can see each other again in dreams."

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.