#which is kinda ironic

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

I got “conception”

[glimpsesofeuterpe]

tube at my place nowadays be like;

[wiredawake]

missing images and it's just a burning memory

credit

[jaypentaghast]

At least death means I'll never be scared about dying again. (x)

[maipareshaan]

Hmm should i watch the amber johnn trial hmm

[choccy-milky]

I can imagine Clora reading the "Final Problem" where Sherlock "DIES" and being depressed for like a month and sending hate mail to Conan Doyle while Sebastian tries to cheer her up.

THATS SO FUNNY YOU SENT THIS BECAUSE I LITERALLY DECIDED THE SAME THING A WHILE BACK BAHAHA i plan to mention it in my fic too

seb would 1000% find clora crying during their seventh year when "the final problem" is published LMAOO and he'd freak out wondering whats wrong. and when i read about how tons of doyles' fans sent him hate mail and were outraged i was like yup, clora would've been one of them BAHAHA. ["Obituaries for Holmes appeared everywhere. Petitions were signed and “Keep Holmes Alive” clubs were formed."] CLORA WOULD HAVE FORMED ONE OF THOSE CLUBS TOO LMFAOO

all the outrage made doyle resurrect sherlock a decade later, so that also means when they're older + married + have kids, clora's just gonna burst into the room one day and be like "HES ALIIIIVEEE!!!!!!!" BAHAHHAA clora's hate mail to arthur conan doyle is what brought back sherlock, CONFIRMED!!💯💪✨

[creekfiend]

I used to get an arguments on facebook and it bit me in the ass enormously because it turns out that when you get an arguments on facebook habitually, you'll be interacting with a lot of other people who get an arguments on facebook habitually, and most of these people are deeply unpleasant and they will be super mean to you in really fucked up ways. so for a couple of years I just sort of dropped off ever interacting with anyone who said things that I did not agree with. I would just scroll past stuff or I would get upset about it privately and move on. I did not ever engage. and the last couple of weeks I've started being able to say things in response to things I don't agree with in ways that I feel lay out what my perspective is but do not get overly invested in "winning" or "proving" anything -- I will say my piece generally for the benefit of other people who might be reading the conversation and need to hear what I have to say. and then I will turn notifications off and go do something else.

anyway. wow. y'all heard about this? pretty cool shit.

[zxal]

3 extra people in your head = 4x the hairstyle opportunities

[batsplat]

random throwback to fabio's response to casey saying he should've been black flagged for the whole open leathers situation

[aroaceleovaldez]

its still incredibly funny to me that the end of the first series tries so hard to go "Luke still cared deep down! He was a good person at heart! Annabeth was his family who he would do anything for! The only thing that mattered to Luke in the end was keeping Annabeth from being hurt further!"

and then you remember in Sea of Monsters he just straight up commands a monster to kill Annabeth and Grover and force Percy to watch them die and they're only saved because the Party Ponies show up. Like.

[theophagie]

Methinks some people want to hate Stolas so much that light blinds their eyes and white noise fills their ears whenever Blitz interacts with a demon that's above him in station because how you can get to "Blitz holds a lot of understandable and justifiable anger for Hell's hierarchy" but not follow up on that with "even so, or maybe because of it, he doesn't give a fuck about fearing or respecting royal demons" is beyond me, because you'll see them going on and on about how his whole livelihood was dependent on Stolas and how he was forced to make him happy and go along with his wishes etc etc etc, and then you'll pull up the actual episodes and see Blitz telling Stolas to shut the fuck up or fuck off every two interactions that they have. Like with UC showing that he very easily could have found a way to go to Earth by himself and FM & AT making it very clear that the grimoire was an excuse for him as much as it was for Stolas just take the L and go

[yakultii]

22 November // jellycat heaven @ meeq

[pup-pee]

i adopted this guy from a cardboard box on the side of the road

^^^^ he says this then instantly eats shit

[blade-that-was-broken]

“Hey Clay?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I know you don’t really like to talk about your older bro-...” 

“Did he call again? Ignore it, he’ll stop. Honestly, he should know better by now,” Clay grumbled, not looking up from his project. Last week, Bruce had called him, out of the blue. It had been a weird phone call, acting as if the last several years didn’t happen. As if Bruce didn’t just pick up and move across the country the moment he could, leaving the rest of them to their mother.

He knew he was holding a ridiculous grudge. It had been years. And Clay might have gotten over it eventually, if Bruce hadn’t replaced them with his perfect family. He barely stayed in contact - even with the brothers who weren’t as mad at him. Branch had been young when Bruce left, barely six years old. Clay wasn’t a whole ton better but at least Branch knew him to an extent. Branch at least knew his favorite color. Clay doubted Branch knew the first thing about Bruce. 

“He… he’s here.” 

Bruce wouldn’t leave his resort and his wife and well, now his kids. It was like he expected everyone to pick up and go visit him just because he lived on an exotic island or whatever. As if Clay didn’t have responsibilities or Floyd wasn’t constantly traveling. As if it was so easy for Grandma to leave the house and fly across the country. Bruce barely called and he never, ever visited - much less out of the blue like this. 

Clay stopped and looked up, his head swiveling around to look back at his best friend. Her curly blonde hair was wrapped up in a messy ponytail, which was fairly normal, but the uncertain and awkward expression on her face was definitely not the norm for her. “What?” he asked, shocked. 

She nodded. “Yeah. There is a guy down in the courtyard. He said he’s your older brother.” 

Clay shook his head. Bruce would never leave his precious wife and resort to visit him, especially when he knew how much Clay was upset with him. Had been for years. Honestly, aside from one phone call a week or two ago, Clay hadn’t really heard from him in years. Clay could have chalked it up to Bruce just knowing that he was angry with him for abandoning him - them - with their mother the first moment he could, but he barely kept in contact with Floyd and Branch as well. And they didn’t hold the hard feelings that Clay did. Not that Clay was much better; he didn’t talk to any of his brothers much either. 

“There is no way,” he protested with a huff, rolling his eyes. She must be mistaken, there was no other option. “He’s never made a trip out here. He would never leave his resort. What is he doing out here?” Viva hesitated, glancing away, which was very strange for her. She was very straightforward and easily excitable. Clay felt his brow furrow a little. “Viva…” 

“He’s not… like how you said.” 

He just sighed and took a deep breath. Bruce definitely had a way with people; he always had. Granted, Clay probably painted him in mostly a crappy light, due to the fact that whenever the subject did come up - which was extremely rare - it was not often positive. Clay had a lot of anger and probably a lot of resentment. It was a work in progress. “Look, Viv. I know he’s easy to believe. He seems soooooo friendly and charming that you want to just swoon or whatever. He’s got that effect on people but…” 

“No.” 

“No?” Clay asked, confused. She said it so strong, so flat, so sure and Clay wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

“Clay… he’s not like that at all. He was actually really quiet and awkward and super uncertain but held him with some kind of…rigidness? At least as much as he could,” Viva looked uncomfortable, like she had seen something she really didn’t like. He wasn’t sure what that was about. At the moment, he was more hung up on the description which did not sound like Bruce at all. 

He scoffed. “Bruce?” 

“He didn’t say that was his name,” Viva continued, still uncertain, glancing towards the window. “But you only have one older brother right?” 

Clay blinked and his whole world came to a standstill. “I….” 

“Clay?”

Older brothers. 

There was no way, though. He hadn’t heard anything from him since their parent’s divorce and when he was practically dragged away almost kicking and screaming. Clay barely remembered it; he tried not to. Everyone had been crying but Branch’s screaming, going along with everyone else's tears kind of drowned everything out. It hadn’t been a pretty memory and Clay avoided thinking about it. Coupling that with his mother’s systematic way of erasing anything that evoked him or their father from their house and their lives, it only took a few years for everyone to stop considering them entirely. 

His eyes widened. There was no way. There was no way it was possible. 

Clay didn’t even think. He bolted out the door, not even bothering to strip off his lab coat. There was no way. It had been at least fifteen years. What were the chances? After fifteen years? There was no way. 

He had to be sure. 

Making his way down to the courtyard, with Viva shouting after him, he scanned the area upon slamming the doors open. It had been a decade and a half. He had no idea what to look for anymore. They had all changed. 

“He’s by the fountain, sitting on the stone wall,” Viva supplied. 

That helped. He made his way over, still looking over the area until he spotted a more middle aged guy with short hair and bandages on his arm. When he looked, Viva nudged him, giving him the sign that who she had talked to was him. Definitely not Bruce. 

He looked over at Clay and recognized him, suddenly nervous. Clay just stared. That was all he could really muster up to do. “Uh… hi, Clay. I know you might not really remember me but…” 

Clay didn’t say a word at first, just launching himself at his big brother, knocking him into the grass behind in a hug. He clearly wasn’t expecting it but he took to the action pretty quickly, wrapping his arms around Clay’s back for support and to keep him from being tossed around. 

“John Dory.” 

Clay couldn’t remember the last time he thought of him, much less said his name out loud. He hated that. His eyes were squeezed shut, just soaking up the firm grasp his oldest - his oldest - brother had on him. He had so much to say and so many questions but only one happened to come out. It had been fifteen years and now John Dory just showed up out of the blue. 

“How did…how did you find me?”

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say. There was a lot he wanted to say and do but his mouth had run off with him, questioning so much that he really didn’t actually care the answers to. Because he was here. After fifteen years. 

“Bruce told me.” 

Clay shifted slightly. “B-Bruce?” He supposed it might have been easier to find a resort owner before some crazy older college student. Although Clay felt like he had his name out there more than his other older brother, as he had written papers and had been featured in several journals. Although it might not have been in things John might have looked through. They could be pretty niche. 

“I…” John tensed a little and hesitated. “He found me. The hospital found him, I guess? They found him and called him. I’ve been staying with him for my recovery.” 

Clay’s heart dropped as he pulled away, trying to assess. He scrambled off his brother, stepping back. “Your what?” 

John grimaced. 

Viva nudged his shoulder and spoke quietly. “Clay.” 

Clay’s eyes were drawn downward. Sure, there were bandages on his arm but John’s grip didn’t seem to be very weak so he doubted that would be so debilitating and honestly, his legs seemed fi-… where was his leg? 

“W-Where is your leg?” 

“Sudan… I think?” 

Clay just stared. 

“Right, sorry. Kinda dark humor there,” John muttered, sitting up a little more. “I was… I have been, I guess, in the military for a while. Over ten years I guess, uhm… it’s a long story. But some stuff happened, my arm got kinda burned up but it’ll be okay. Head got banged around a bit but that should be fine too. The biggest thing was my leg which… well, that ended my military career pretttyyyy quick. The hospital found Bruce and yeah, I’ve been staying with him but…. I wanted to see you. Needed to see you.” 

There was a pause. 

“Sorry, that was… that was a lot of words.” 

“When Bruce called…” Clay drifted off in realization. Bruce had called to tell Clay about John. 

“He didn’t want to freak you out.” 

“But I hung up.” 

John nodded. “Bruce didn’t really tell me anything about what happened with you guys or anything but I just… I bought a plane ticket and well, here I am.” 

Here he was. 

“Does Bruce even know you’re here?” Clay asked, uncertainly. With John’s state, it probably meant that Bruce was kind of taking care of him, which meant he was in charge of his welfare and health. John was still on leg crutches and probably couldn’t get around super well. It couldn’t have been that long since it happened. 

John snorted. “I am a grown man.” 

“Missing a leg!” 

“So?” John asked, his nose wrinkling. Clay almost felt like he had been slapped. Floyd and Branch did the same thing. “I knew a guy who lost both and guess what? He lives alone. Does just fine.” 

“He’s probably freaking out.”

“Bruce? Probably.”

“Then why are you here?” 

John tried not to look hurt. He would have done a great job too, if he hadn’t looked away. It was a telltale sign and Clay noticed. He didn’t even realize what he had said and how it came out until it was too late. He cursed himself; he didn’t want John to think he didn’t want him here. “I haven’t seen you in fifteen years, Clay. No matter how much time passes or what happens, I love you.” 

Shit. 

“Clay… he’s so cute,” Viva sniffled. “You never told me-” 

“That I existed?” John guessed, making Clay cringe. “That seems to be an ongoing theme.” 

“JD, I just…” he didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t have any excuse, really. He could blame a lot on his mother but that felt wrong to say to him. There wasn’t any real excuse that would make anyone feel better. 

“It’s alright,” John replied, although Clay could tell there was some struggle. Which made sense. No one wanted to feel forgotten by loved ones. Especially not the ones still alive. “Bruce didn’t tell his kids I existed either. I’m getting over it.” 

He shouldn’t have to get over it, Clay thought. He shouldn’t have had to do any of it. He should have spent the last fifteen years with them. He should have been there for birthdays, for their graduations, for their important moments. He should have been there when Bruce got married. For Floyd’s first show. For Clay’s best college awards. Bruce’s kids should have known their uncle their entire life, not just now and so forth. 

“She’s dead, our mother,” Clay said, blandly. He blamed her a lot, for pretty much everything. Not the divorce itself; that was both of them, but for cutting them off from his brother. For forcing his name to never be spoken. For erasing his memory. It was one thing to keep them away from their father, although Clay didn’t like that either, but to keep them away from their older brother was unforgivable for him. 

“So is dad. Over ten years.”

Ten years. Over even. John lost his family, became an adult and lost his father. No wonder he joined the military. 

“Six.” 

“I tried looking for you,” John promised, like it was something he had to convince Clay of. Like he didn’t want Clay to think that he didn’t try. It wasn’t meant to make Clay feel worse and Clay knew it but it did anyway. Because Clay hadn’t. He hadn’t looked. He hadn’t even considered it. “Before joining the military. After too, a little, I suppose. I’m no detective I guess.” 

Clay just stared at him. Did he think…?

“I know…” John frowned again. “I know you’re mad at Bruce but I can’t… I… Clay, I want to be…to have… to be in some part of your life and I just…” 

“I’m not mad at you.” 

Clay hated the almost hopeful look that John stared at him with. It was a expression that screamed he wasn’t expecting this reaction. “You… aren’t?”  

“No. Of course not. Our parents were petty and bitter and it is all their fault. JD, you never… you didn’t abandon anyone. Dad took you away and mom decided to try and erase that part of her life. Have you blamed yourself this whole time? For years?” 

“No, no, I just… I don’t want you to think I stayed away or something.” 

“I believe you,” Clay promised. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

[fereldanwench]

You should not have returned--You will die here with me! You can thank me later!

⚠️ do not reupload or edit my shots without my permission ⚠️

[asitrita]

I am obsessed with the way you describe how manipulated France is when he is in a relationship with Spain. I would love to hear you talk more about this <3 (we need more of this).

Like, what toxic traits of France do you think make Spain be attracted to him? Some of the ways France makes Spain unable to ignore him in a personal relationship?

Please feel free to add more questions on this topic. Thank you for answering them for me 🫶🏻

To be honest I just like toxic relationships imao (not for me lol, I just like to see my faves suffering, and Francis is the perfect demon to bring Toni a piece of hell).

However, if I had to choose a toxic trait Francis has (one of the many 👀) that is actually alluring to Antonio that would be controlling. I imagine Francis to be this type of person who wants, needs, to be in control, always. It may be a product of his huge ego and need for constant validation, he loves being the centre of attention and most definitely considers himself above most... Countries? All these traits result in a desire for control as well, and that is what I think Antonio would find kind of attractive. Or maybe not attractive, but beneficial. This is because I imagine that Antonio, as he became the first global empire ever in the early 16th cent. and one of the superpowers at the time for a handful of centuries, was always expected to be in control of everything. He had too many responsibilities, the weight of expectations was too heavy on his shoulders, and the fear of other powers overcoming him and subduing him was too strong, so he always felt the need to control absolutely everything, even the smallest detail (tbh, I think I already said it in a previous post, I imagine young adult Antonio to be a bit... Paranoid, during his time as an empire). So while I imagine Antonio would clash against France, for they are both very controlling people, the motivations for the control they exerted on others were very different. For Antonio it was most usually a matter of survival and accomplishment of his own goals as a nation. Everything needs to be perfect, all the pieces must be in the right places for everything to work out just fine (not to say he never used his controlling nature for more personal matters, but this scenario didn't happen too often). For Francis, however, it was a way to feed his ego, a matter of pride, a way to show his power and influence on others. And thus, I think this worked perfectly for Antonio, because Antonio, as controlling as he was, resented that part of him that needed to be in control of absolutely everything, he wanted to let loose, he was just not allowed to (not as a country, and not even as a person, as paranoid as he was about what could happen if something didn't go according to plan and other country got the upper hand on him). With Francis, he could freely get loose. Or he could pass tense, he became incredibly dangerous over the centuries, but he wasn't so much a danger in the past when the two got along just fine. But he is used to Francis, he is used to get himself go with him, because he knows Francis will be there to pick him up. And of course he will, the control freak he is, he is just waiting for Antonio to give up just a tiny piece of string so he can hold it instead, and is happy to do so whenever Antonio decides to play puppet with him. Both are control freaks, but while Francis takes pride on that side of him, Antonio resents it, so he willingly gives it up to Francis, and Francis is ecstatic with the idea of gaining all control, or better yet, being given all control.

This is probably one of Francis worst traits, and it is however one that is very alluring to Antonio, because it is a way of purifying himself, giving a part of himself that he abhors to a demon that desires it. That, and probably, when Francis control becomes too suffocating, he sees it as a way to expiate his sins and guilt, a torment to redemption. Losing all control about his very being, a fitting punishment for someone as controlling as he is. And from the other end, Francis definitely revels in it.

This was too long, and I'm not sure I made any sense at all. Lol