#i will have more thoughts...later...

[candyskiez]

I had a je au concept and it is now your problem:

Jon and Martin end up somewhere else, except Jonahs ghost comes with them. The current au I'm playing around with is Jonahs specifically bound to Jon, since he's the one who killed him. Something something maybe they're bound by the fact they were killed by the sake weapon something something Jon being the archivist meant he could either survive what anyone else couldn't, or means he could permanently kill someone who otherwise couldn't be. Whichever you prefer. I'll work on it. Jon obviously is having a really bad time being haunted by the guy who apocalypse'd him, Martin's not very happy about his evil ex boss haunting him when he's trying really hard to never think about any of that shit again and he already has enough going on Jesus fucking christ how did everything go this wrong, both of them are honestly having a really shit time. Jonah isn't exactly thrilled about still being dead. Being a ghost is only slightly better. All three of them are having a honestly not fun time. Get in loser you WILL be confronting your complicated feelings about the man who ruined your life and the man who understood you better than anyone else and how they are the same person, and how you don't regret killing him but you feel so empty and raw after everything and you don't even know what you're feeling. You're not grieving him but what else is this. You killed a man and it didn't even save everyone. You killed a man and you don't regret it but there's still something there and you don't know what the hell it IS. And that's just talking about jons feelings on it. Martin and Jonah I could write an essay about.

Here's some snippets of shit I imagined under the cut. In script for my sanity

Jon: Glad to see you're not hoarding some poor souls body anymore, at least.

Jonah: Well, I suppose we're both happy about that one then.

Jon: Huh. Wasn't expecting that one.

Jonah: It has been a very long time. I'm not completely heartless.

Jon: Well, forgive me if I find that hard to believe.

[He takes a drag of his cigarette.]

Jonah: I thought you'd quit.

Jon: I had bigger problems to worry about than my lungs. I'm sure you know about them.

Jonah: Really, Jon, I know you're...different now-

Jon: [laughs bitterly]

Jonah: But that still can't be good for you, can it?

Jon: Don't you Know?

Jonah: I'm dead, Jon. What do you think?

Jon: Oh. Wow. This must be torture for you.

Jonah: You know I can see you smiling, right?

Jon: I wasn't trying to hide it.

Jon: I've got to tell Martin that. Might be nice for him to know.

Jonah: How much do you Know, then? Did you just waltz in, still fully connected to the fears, and hope for the best?

Jon goes very, very quiet.

Jonah: Ah.

Jon coughs.

Jonah: I told you you should try to quit.

Jon: Fuck you.

-

I can't write anything for it because my brain wants me to explode. But I offer you Jon refusing to do any scheduling just to spite Jonah. "Oh yes, just tell Martin he has to do all the paperwork because you have a grudge." "You're underestimating how far he's willing to go to spite you." Alternatively if you like Jon going a little downhill, Jonah informing him how to do various paperwork. Jon getting increasingly irritated when his advice is actually helpful.

-

Jonah: You say all that, but I see how you look at him.

Jon: At who?

Jonah: Martin. You're scared of him, aren't you?

Jon: What? No! Of course not. I trust him.

Jonah: Do you? Maybe you don't fear him, but he did kill you. He did go against you.

Jonah: You haven't forgotten that. Even if you like to admit it.

Jon: Martin was trying to save people, he was trying to do what he thought was right.

Jonah: You don't, then?

Jon: I am not talking about this with *you.*

Jonah: Are you going to have it with him then? Be my guest.

Jon grits his teeth.

Jonah: Do you regret it? Bringing all the fears here?

Jon: Martin's alive.

Jonah: That's not what I asked.

Jon: And I'm not going to- how many times do I need to say it? Whatever you're doing- wasn't it enough? You broke the world, Jonah! You broke me with it! What else do you want?

Jonah: To know you.

Jon: What?

Jonah: I don't know anything in your mind right now, and you're the only one I can talk to. You already interested me before I died. I figure nows as good of a time as any. It's not like I can come back to life. There's not much else to do.

Jon: ...

Jon, very tired: God, you need a hobby.

Jonah: That isn't really an option though, is it?

Jon: No. It's not.

-

Jon: I don't understand how you can live with yourself.

Jonah: This again? Really, Jon?

Jon: Don't "really" me.

Jonah: You are remarkably easy to read, even without the Watcher. You know that, right?

Jon: Well then, good for you.

Jonah: You're proving my point.

Jon: I'm not doing anything.

Jonah: You want to know. You've seen how much I know about other people, and you're curious what I'd say to you. You're curious about how well I know you. And if you don't hear what I think this is, you'll be thinking about it for months, if not longer.

Jon: I'm not going to ask. I'm not an idiot.

Jonah: You will though, won't you?

Jon: You never answered my question.

Jonah, fondly: You haven't changed at all.

Jon: No. I haven't. Now answer me.

Jonah: There's nothing to tell. I wanted to survive more than I was guilty. I did quite enjoy not dying, you know. Guilt doesn't stop everyone. You should know that.

Jon makes a frustrated noise.

Jonah: And it fades.

Jon: No. You're not telling me everything.

Jonah: What, are you going to try and compell it out of me? Really?

Jon: Maybe I will.

Jonah: Would that even work?

Jon: Would you like to find out? It's not like either of us have anything to lose.

Jonah looks surprised. Then he smiles. He looks almost proud.

Jonah: No. We don't.

(He says it like Jons finally realized something very, very important.)

[pyrus-salicifolia]

“Normal” test results are not the relief people think they are. When you wake up in pain and continue to be in pain for hours every day and your tests come back normal you don’t stop being in pain.

[valtsv]

are we still doing this because i have a late submission

[walkerrenee]

sometimes i randomly remember how insane maggie stiefvater was for making ronan lynch—a man that can create reality—a man of god, when he himself is a god of a man. then to take this man and have him be not only in love with, but a literal soulmate of a man named adam. parrish. adam parrish. who, mind you, lives above ronan's very own place of worship. and is the namesake of the first of mankind that the bible says god made from the literal dust of the ground (adam parrish: comes from nothing, hair "dusty" in color) and appoints him to care for the garden of eden (adam parrish: sacrifices himself to ronan's sentient forest). then has adam viewing ronan as a god and ronan saying "maybe he dreamt (created)" adam???? like who just fucking writes that and goes about their life?

[chloesimaginationthings]

The moment FNAF movie Vanessa knew she fucked up

[technically-human]

This happened, it just wasn't relevant to the plot

[bonesbonesbones69]

Once and a while I see a piece of tlt fanart where harrow is really wrapped around gideon and I love that a lot. I drew myself a little bit of it as a treat today:

and then got carried away

I was way too ambitious with these poses for drawing with pen and some shitty whiteout tape

[in-grian-we-trust]

So the new chapter is obviously great, but the thing that really stuck out to me was this panel at the beginning

The single stair in Scar’s house. It’s such a small detail, but it really effectively sets up the conflict of the episode.

It’s a reminder every time he leaves his bedroom that this space was not made for him. It also wouldn’t be a problem for Hot Guy, but Scar has to deal with it every day.

Considering how much of the rest of the episode is spent establishing a disconnect between Scar and his friends, especially due to the Hot Guy persona, the stair is the perfect detail to include.

[salarymanwaka]

[salemsclowncorner]

My thoughts on what I think would go on Virgil, Remus, And Janus' cake (click for quality):

If they actually end up getting a video and any of these are in there I shall jump for joy.

[lucabyte]

some thoughts on Claude

alt title: diversity win! this Butch Nun is crafting bombs in an unventilated room in her convent while actively courting Mother Superior! Do Not Give Them Access To Unlimited Power No Matter How Nice They Are

+ bonus

[thymechaos]

i just can't believe that oda fucking create sanji, a stereotypical ladies man who simps to an embarrassing degree for women while having his hackles comically raised around everyone he perceives as a man - and most notably butting heads with the more obvious ~manly man~ of the crew. haha, classic anime running gag, the kind that gets obnoxious at times but still makes you laugh.

AND THEN, like a billion chapters later, motherfucker steeples his fingers and goes "soooooooo... what makes a person Like That?"

and the answer is that he grew up in fucking Toxic Masculinity, The Kingdom. the answer is that he was always Different, in a way other guys instinctively perceived as weak, and that made him the target of visceral scorn and violence. the answer is that he was sensitive, sweet, caring, nurturing - feminine-coded traits which are only valued by patriarchy insofar that they're performed by women in service of men. the answer is that in a kingdom comprised almost entirely by violent men, the only ones who were ever kind to him, the only safety he ever had, were a girl and a woman.

so cooking is for women and servants, it makes you less of a man. only women will ever really value you for your passions and dreams. women are also actively hurt by the way the world works, they are unsafe unless they comply with men's violence, and you have to protect them.

(men will always know what you are, and they will hurt you if you let them.)

and even after he leaves... at baratie he is cherished and respected, but even that is an extremely masculine environment. we don't talk about our feelings, we don't let our guard down, the only love is tough love. when he tries to express his artistry and express himself through his cooking, rather than just filling orders and making money, he gets mocked.

so here is a man who will not raise a hand to a woman, because he rejects the masculinity he was raised with and refuses to become yet another man subjecting women to violence. he is desperate for women's attention and affection because it's SAFE, it's the only kind he can trust. other men are potential threats and must be treated as such. he must at all times be snarky, tough, Not Feminine, because to be perceived otherwise is to be powerless, to be hurt.

like y'all. the queer coding of it all? the overtly feminist themes? the active rejection of toxic masculinity and the way it's shown to be directly tied to imperialism? what the fuck.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The dog days are over.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[shouyuus]

sfw; modern neighbor!vi au

cool but enough about that. thinking about vi who lives in the same apartment building as you and is on the same floor just a few doors down, who sees you struggling with some boxes when moving in so she sweeps in to your rescue and well i mean you're not one to look a-gift-horse-muscular-butch in the mouth when she's so valiantly offering to carry these boxes for you.

who introduces herself and tells you that she lives here with her sister, who's studying mechanical engineering at the university. her? oh, she's a freelancer! you know how it is these days, teaches boxing at the local gym, helps her dad with the family bar on the weekends sometimes, "bit of this and a bit of that." and it sounds like she doesn't wanna talk about it all that much so you don't ask.

you ask her in for a cup of coffee, say it's the least you can do to thank her for helping you with the boxes.

"pleasure's mine, helping a pretty girl like you."

woof.

you swallow, busying yourself with your beat up little moka pot, asking her if she wants sugar or creamer. both, she says, and you pause, looking over your shoulder. she's leant up against your half-unpacked sofa, her arms knitted loosely over her chest.

"what? i've always like my stuff with a little bit of sugar."

it's a simple enough statement but the way she says it makes all your fingers and toes tingle. you swallow, fiddling with the fraying edges of your sweater sleeve.

"yeah, no -- that's --"

you jump as the moka starts to bubble and you pull it off the stove, feeling the same heat working it's way into your skin.

it's easy, so easy, after that. she offers to help you unpack (only if you need it of course) and well, you could use another pair of hands. you tell her that you'll pay her in pizza, and she smiles so wide you can see the hint of a dimple etching itself into her cheek.

you end up spending the whole day together, and when all the boxes are broken down and tamped into a pile by the door, your fingers grease-stained, sitting curled up on your now fully built-out couch, with plastic cups of prosecco, she sighs, staring into the bubbling liquid with a smile just a hitch away from sadness.

"cool! well -- thanks for the pizza," she sets down the cup and pushes up off the couch. you clear your throat and scramble up as well, pressing your palms into your thighs.

"no! thank you for helping me --" you motion around your apartment, "and uh --" you chew on your lips, teetering on the balls of your feet.

"if you ever wanna hang out," vi says, grinning as she rounds the sofa, glancing over her shoulder, "i'm just two doors down."

you slump down onto the sofa, pressing a hand to your chest, feeling it's wild, fluttering beat beneath your palm as you try to steady your breathing.

a few days later, you knock on her door, only to find a girl with shocking blue space buns and a pair of magnifying goggles on her head that make her look truly unhinged.

"who're you?"

you blink, fingers clutched around a large mug.

"uh -- uhm -- i just -- i moved in to the unit two doors down a few days ago and i was -- i was wondering if i could -- borrow some... sugar?" you hold out the mug, wondering if you've just royally fucked up.

"powder? who's at the door?" vi's voice calls out just as the girl with blue hair opens her mouth.

powder pauses, a sly smirk twisting the edge of her lips as she pushes up her goggles to reveal bright blue eyes just a few shades darker than vi's.

"oh no one, juuuuust... the super cute neighbor you couldn't shut up about from a few days ag --"

something clanks from further in the apartment and the girl named powder gets yanked back as vi appears, wide-eyed and a bit disheveled, clearing her throat as she almost crashes into her doorframe.

"h-hi! what -- what're you doing here?"

"i uhm --" you swallow, warmth prickling beneath your skin.

"sugar," powder says, rolling her eyes, waving a hand as she prances back into the apartment.

"sugar...?" vi asks, almost uncomprehending.

you lick your lips, holding out the cup, "yeah... i -- uh -- ran out..."

vi blinks down at the empty mug for a second too long before her eyes flash up to meet yours.

"yeah? what've you been up to, using so much sugar?"

you lick your lips, biting down on our bottom lip as she steps back to motion you into the apartment. it's not big, but it is cozy, sticky-notes and doodles littering almost every available surface, cups with day-old coffee/water/tea cluttered on the countertops. but vi reaches up into the cupboards and tugs down the sugar bag.

"i --" you cut off as she fills up your cup.

you don't want to tell her that you were trying to bake cupcakes of all things. and for her no less.

"ahh... don't wanna tell me? s'okay -- fine then, keep your secrets," she teases, shooting you a tiny wink as she leans up to put the sugar back.

"it's --" you nearly trip over your words as they tumble out of you, "i was -- wanted to make some cupcakes -- f-for... you..." you force out, turning away as her eyes widen slightly, "but i keep fucking up the measurements so --" you chance her another glance.

vi watches you with a soft smile, leaning against her kitchen counter.

"for me, sugar?"

you nod, now feeling impossibly hot as she vi slates you a knowing smile.

"well, lemme know when you're done," she says, "and uh..." she glances down at your sugar cup, "don't be afraid to put in a little extra for me, okay?"

you walk back to your own apartment in a daze, staring down at the cup of white sugar grains as you finally get back to your kitchen and set the mug down. you look at the two batches of failed cupcakes sitting on the counter and sigh, a helpless little smile ticking up the corner of your lips as you remember the twinkle in vi's eyes as she'd told you to add a little more sugar for her.

you drop your face into your hands with a loud groan, slumping back onto the couch, letting your feet dangle off the side as you stare at the light-stricken ceiling.

and you say, to no one in particular --

"i am so, so fucked."

[bertolts]

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[ Posted Here & Bluesky @ MadQueenMaddie ]

[starscream-is-my-wife]

This is part 1 of a continuation for my other post where LL Megatron gets trapped in the G1 universe, I was thinking about how someone would go insane in this cartoon world and thought "what if Megatron had someone else to accompany him" so, I gave Starscream an existential crisis

Edit: pt 2 here