#toxic studying

[averillkillsyou]

does anyone have any toxic study groups or discord servers I need someone to be toxic about school with and someone to force me to study

[tiilore]

youngish hannigram

[mossymallow]

People on this site joke a lot and yearn a lot for toxic, doomed by the narrative yaoi in their media, but Toby Fox delivered some of the best doomed toxic yaoi in the last decade with Spamton and Tenna and it's honestly incredibly impressive because it feels so real.

Two people who are so lonely and so afraid of being forgotten (be it because of the natural passage of time, being just plain annoying and intrusive, or both) that it turns both of them into a black hole that absorbs literally everything around them into their own ego like a tarnished suit of armor (it couldn't be me that's difficult/obsolete/irritating, it's everyone ELSE that's wrong) that the only thing they can do once they find each other is collide and inevitably destroy themselves

We see that in Spamton and Tenna's relationship (whether it was orchestrated to fail by Mike or not), is that they both believed they were getting something for free from the other (guidance on how to succeed/love/validation), when reality, the cost was that it shifted their already horrific levels of co-dependency from the Lightners onto one another. As a side-effect of both of them becoming too big to fail, they both became incredibly fragile, who's success and continued happiness relied solely on the other. It only took one mess up- one misinterpretation- to ruin everything, and now they both blame the other for their failure to appeal to the Lightners anymore. Their relationship was ALWAYS doomed to fail because in the end, despite any positive feelings they may have had for one another (be it love or friendship or just plain idol worship), they both put aside any genuine emotion for one another that may have blossomed for their own ego.

The one thing that could have saved both Spamton AND Tenna was honest, earnest, communication, and that's what's so tragic about it, because this happens in real life to people all the time. Without honest communication, relationships crumble- especially business partners, but I feel like they had something deeper. They were earnest in one way with one another, and that was how direly terrified they were of being alone. With proper communication they could have figured something out, been better for each other, and maybe grown past their fear of obsolescence out of, if nothing, mutual respect for one another's skills.

Yet they didn't. They chose the fickle whims of fame and the adoration of strangers over what could have been real. They chose a fantasy of popular anonymity (and probably money, at least in Spamton's case) over each other. Now at the end of everything Tenna doesn't even recognize Spamton, but he still keeps a pipis hidden in a dresser, and when he has a breakdown, just like Spamton did in Chapter 2, the first person he blames for his failure is his old business partner.

Because at the end of the day- to the both of them- it couldn't have been me, it couldn't even have been that other people have lives outside of his influence. It was obviously THAT guy, my old partner, how dare he leave me like this/not teach me to be able to sell things/learn how to use email?

They're more co-dependent now than they were even when they were together, except now it's divorced flavored. Tenna's mannerisms and speech are even Spamton flavored, but considering everything, who was actually coping who in an effort to stay relevant?

Relationships take work, and practice, and above all honesty, which is something that neither of them had the ability to exercise until they were both about to die- and that lack of empathy and genuineness is what made their relationship fall apart with heartbreaking inevitability. Time caught up to them in more ways than one.

If that is not the most toxic of doomed yaois to grace your radar idk what is.

[kruchylod]

[uglywitch69]

Messy but i love them

[shirecorn]

Life is about the ups and downs, not about perfection. To make your art authentic, accept and embrace damage and change, and the growth that comes after.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Swapping tips on how to be a bestie in the bath.

[pkaykim]

studies of lovesick the series

[averillkillsyou]

someone join my discord plsplspls I NEED MOTIVATION

[knitepercival]

I can’t believe it took me this long to draw Ives and Boyd

[downtownhannah]

the feeling of absolute disgust when i get a bad grade

[uglywitch69]

I'm a creep........ I'm a weirdoooo

[chronologically-challenged]

Final Bow pt1.

Summary: The Director is "defeated" in a sense. The party brings her to the well on zir request. Of course, Loop is there. Normal reactions happen all around.

@askoverkill

(This is a bit of a theory fic, but mostly "this image won't get out of my head, so I decided to write it down" sort of thing. Part 1 is Loop's POV. Part 2 will be dawn. Enjoy!)

---

You see him in person for the first time in several eternities.

You know what the Director looks like. Their shining face and night dusted skin all dressed up in a jester costume is blazed in her mind. If you give yourself a moment to think too long, you could pick out all the details the Director foolishly kept of their previous self that even they couldn't scrub clean. Their eyes, their brows, even the way the light that shines from their head gives an impression of hair left unbrushed in a certain way. But you don't look too long. You haven't in so many outer loops. In fact, despite the affectionate name that threatens to spill out of your traitorous tongue, you first and foremost see the Director as every other Siffrin sees them, a fool and an executioner in one, a malicious joke ready to put the punch in punchline at a moment's notice.

Now? It's difficult to see how they could ever be a threat at all.

The rest of the party leads the procession. Odile first, Isabeau second, with Bonnie sprinting past them the moment they see dawn already standing up to meet them midway. You watch them all impassively, only noting the two halves of the Director's cracked mask in Odile's hands.

No, while Lupus, dusk, and dawn run up to the party, your focus is at the entrance of the clearing.

Mirabelle trails behind, holding the Director's hand. Their face is free of the mask for the first time since it's mattered. Somewhere along the way they lost their jester's hat.

They have no mouth. They have no symbols across their cheeks. Only his eyes persevere through the harsh light.

Unbidden, the image of your stardust carefully trailing their finger in the dirt flashes bright in your mind. Their hat covered his expression, but you could still see just how careful he was to make each simple detail. Then with a small nod, they leaned back to show you, well you.

A shining head. Half crescent eyes. No clothes to speak of. A star in your chest.

That was you. This was what you looked like.

You asked for them not to loop too early. They hadn't. In fact, you think, maybe, they let themself linger for once. Gave you time to memorize it. How else could you remember even now? How else could you in your weakest moments, redraw the small sketch as clear as the day your stardust bestowed it to you?

The Director does not have crescent eyes. In fact, only one eye shines through the insistent light. It's an eye shape you knew all too well. Or perhaps, you never truly knew them at all.

The Director freezes when they see you.

Mirabelle tugs at their hand. “Siffrin?”

Three heads swivel towards her. Dusk, dawn, and the Director all at once head her call. Lupus clutches at both dusk's and dawn's cloaks, glaring up at the Director.

And you? You don't move from the steps of the well. You can't bring yourself to.

Even across these eons, you are just unhelpful, useless Loop.

“This is weird,” you hear Bonnie say. This causes a round of banter between the party. “No, it's not” “It kinda is.” “Well, you get used to it.” “That doesn't help, Siffrin.” and on and on.

The Director and you add nothing. After all, your current roles aren't fit for such antics.

“So, what're fae doing here?” Lupus eventually interrupts. They point to the Director with a sneer, pointedly bringing their ‘Siffernts’ closer to them the best they can with only two hands. “We beat you. Go away.”

“Lupus,” dusk warns, then looks back to the Director. They try to hide the child under their cloak.

Dawn only eyes the Director warily. You can tell they're waiting for a final twist, for the show to finally end with a “more fitting” tragedy. If luck would have, only you and the Director will be the tragedians in this version of this play.

The Director does not take the child's bait. They barely seem to acknowledge anyone else at all. Their grip loosens from Mirabelle's hand, sliding out almost unnaturally from her grip. She shouts out to catch them, but they've tucked their hands to their chest far too quickly.

Their eye still hasn't left yours.

Isabeau quarters dawn away from the path of the Director and raises his fists. Odile stops him a second before he strikes out. “Wait, a minute,” she hisses. You don't hear the rest of their arguing.

The Director brushes past them, unconcerned.

“No, wait, Loop!!! Get out of there! Run away from her!!!” Finally, someone, dusk you think, gets it.

You wonder if it's the way the Director stalks like a lion across the worn path. Or the uncanny silence the otherwise bombastic jester tends to have. Or maybe it was the way their previously dejected body shot up when they realized who was on the steps.

You knew because you watched them this entire time. It would be kinda hard not to realize.

But even if you hadn't, you'd be an idiot not to see with just one look how much they want to eat you alive.

This is your final stand in this concluding act.

The Director stops at the base of the steps.

Silence chokes the crowd.

“Loop,” they finally say.

“Director,” you call back.

The look in their eye has not faded.

“You must hate me.”

Obviously? You don't designate that with a response. There's no point.

They move again. They raise a foot and the heel clanks against the stairs.

“I deserve it. I know I do.” Their head tilts, and for the first time since they've seen you, their eye twitches. You realize after a moment, they're trying to smile without that mask for a mouth. “So say it. Say you hate me.”

They step up the stairs.

“Say it.”

Another.

“Say it.”

And another. They're close enough that you can feel their matching star pulse in their chest.

“No even better, kill me and get it over with! Not like you haven't tried already!!!”

Quicker than you can see, they grab your hands and clasp their around their own throat. Their fingers lock into yours, painfully intertwining them. The skies on your hands meld into one another into one starry canvas.

Around you, the audience gasps and then shouts all at once.

“Siffrin, that's enough!” “Gems alive.” “Please stop…” “I thought we were done with this.” “I knew this was a bad idea.” “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!!!”

You feel the heat of the Director's throat, and the subtle movement of their breaths, and the way their fingers tremble in yours, and their eye swallowing you whole as they wait for you to make the next move, and you wonder briefly if dawn rewound time in this frozen moment because it stretches on and on and on and on and on, as you memorize the Director's face the same way you did your own lifetimes ago.

You try to uncurl your hands from their throat. They latch on tighter.

“Come on, I know you want to! Or is it?” The Director gasps playfully, “Oh! Don't want to get your hands dirty, do you Loop? That's low even for you.”

That's enough. “Shut up, Director.”

“Aww, are you-” they try, but you interrupt their nonsense quickly.

“No, shut up. I'm talking now. You wanted to say something, I'm saying something.”

Their eye narrows. “Go on~,” they purr out, but with the way their nails dig into your hands, you can tell they wanted to snarl.

Their attention is all on you. Even with your hands on their throat, the stage set for you, and the audience watching for your next words, you never felt any less in control. Their nails claw into you, and even now you know this loop, this miracle could end any moment. One wrong thought from dawn could take this away from you. But you'd gone and done the stupidest thing and let yourself actually hope again. Hope that the party could get through to the Director. Hope that Lupus and dusk could keep dawn afloat long enough to get the party back. Hope beyond hope that there was enough of your stardust in the Director to end this play once in for all.

So you ask, hoping it to be true. “Is it over?”

The Director blinks, clearly not expecting the question. Their grip loosens ever so slightly around their own throat. “...pardon?”

“Is. It. Over?” you hiss. They know what you mean. Asking again, they eye flickers in amusement. You can practically see where their Cheshire grin should be.

“I doooooon't know,” they sing, “Is it?”

“Director.”

They look to you, then to dawn, and back. You don't miss how dawn flinches. The Director shrugs.

“I think that's a question we all want to know,” you hear Odile say.

You can feel the Director suppress a laugh. Their throat jumps against your fingers.

“What's so funny?” You ask.

“Oh, you know. Just! The irony! Asking ME for the answers when I can't know. Not really.” The Director rests their chin on your wound fingers and presses harder.

Bonnie, thank the Stars, interrupts this nonsense. “WeirdFrin stop being weird and answer their question.”

The Director sits back up. The light around their head dims the slightest bit. “If someone, not naming names, loops, then that's that! None of us will remember any of this. Except. That isn't the case is it?” They scratch at your hands. “We have, what do you call them, dawn and dusk? They'll remember. And of course, you Loop. You'll always know. So I'll ask you, what do you think? Is it over?”

You have to hope that the loops are done on dawn's end. That a promise of something after all this, a promise of the time after this is enough. You don't know, can't know if this is truly it.

Especially if the jester in front of you ruins it.

You ask, far too loud in the silent clearing. “Are you done?” You feel your fingers trembling.

“Yup! Done talking. Your turn~.”

“No. Are you done? With.” You look their costume up and down. “All this.”

Their eye widens, but the performance is back in a heartbeat, eye closing in a fake smile. “...........I asked first!“

“Actually I did!” you counter back. For good measure, you squeeze, just a bit. Two performers can play at this game.

And the Director is many things, but no one can say they do not play their part. “Ah! You did, didn't you!” They hum, long and loud. The sound buzzes up your hands into your arms, and almost all the way to your head. In the distance, you see the party tense. They're talking to each other, something about stopping this before it gets out of hand, which doesn't make sense. Nothing has happened yet and nothing will get done if no one says what they need to. Your hands may be around their throat, but the Director might as well be in the labyrinth for all it matters.

“In. A certain sense,” they say slowly. “If you look at a certain angle. Where I have any real control here… Then yeah. I'm done. Thegreatvillainhas finallybeendefeated.Hooray.Youdidit.Woohoo.Yaddayaddayadda. ANYWAY!” They clutch their hands against yours, and you briefly see a shimmer of a sharp toothy grin against the endless light of their face. If you squeeze any tighter, you'd block their windpipe. “Since you've finally won, why don't you just get it over with already and just kill me. Ya know. For old times sake.”

Your fingers press against their throat. A god's life in your hands. It probably wouldn't kill them if you finished choking them. Because of that, it would be cathartic just to squeeze, for everything they did to every other Siffrin, for what they did to the world, for what they did to you.

But…

But-

-It's over.

They tried to hide it behind a sneering veneer, but you got what you needed.

It's over, Stars. It's finally, finally over.

Why would you need anything else?

You squeeze once. The Director's eye widens, first in fear then into a feral vindication.

The look fades as your hands go to their shoulders, their back, and finally you don't see their expression at all, as you surely, fully press them chest to chest, star to star, breaths catching in the other's ears.

They flinch, of course. You pretend not to notice. You also pretend how despite how they try to not lean into your touches, they shiver as your hands run down their back.

“What are you doing?” He hisses.

You hum. “Isn't it obvious?”

They shiver. “Stop it. I-”

You wait for them to continue, but they don't. That won't do. “You?” you prompt.

“...You should hate me.”

“Okay.” You do.

“I hate you.”

“Okay.” You hold them tighter. Their arms start to waver, almost falling to your back.

You hate them, you should kill them, and it's tempting. But also why should you?

It's over. It's over it’s over it’s over-

“I put you through all of this,” your stardust tries to counter, “I hurt you, I hurt them, I'm a monster, you shouldn't be-”

“-I dont care.”

They try to push you back, but they end up flailing uselessly against your back. “What!?”

“You're done, right?” You press your hands against their back, and they let out a little gasp. They're trembling.

“...yes?”

“Then I don't care,” you repeat, resolute, “Stars, I don't even care anymore.”

They're here. They're done. That's all you need. That's all you've ever wanted.

They don't say anything for a time. You just hold them, far more gentle than they deserve, but you want to give them just the same. Slowly, his hands fall onto your back.

“...I didn't even say sorry,” they protest weakly.

You huff. “I didn't either. Would it help?”

They don't say anything back, only dig their nails into your back.

‘No.’ They don't need to say. ‘No, it wouldn't.’

It's for the best. You're not sure either of you would accept the other's apologies. No use ruining this with a harsh reality.

“Then we're done,” you say both for you and them. “It's over, stardust. It's finally over.”

“...Oh.”

You expect a quip. Maybe them to push you back. You're surprised, when they simply lean into you, and finally, finally hold you back.

Your own breath hitches at their warmth.

In a minute you'll need to let them go and ask them what the hell their plan is from here. Dusk, dawn, Lupus, the party, all of them will want explanations. It's inevitable this moment will end, as all moments should, even if they haven't for forever.

Until then, you hold your stardust tight. Becuase they're home here. They're here with you.

And with a miracle like that, who cares about anything else?

[selin-aka-puppydogs68-on-tt]

A HUGE Willtresor analysis— the kiss, my thoughts on their development, why I think their dynamic will change post ep. 120, etc

Oh boy, I fast-passed episode 120 a while ago and this damn ship hasn’t left my mind since 😭

Monty, you really are a loser. Can’t ibuprofen your way out of this one— it’s the end of the line!

The sad reality is Montresor always took Will’s presence as granted; as said before by multiple characters— he always ended up injuring Will in some way, whether it was his feelings or actually just beating the living shit out of him.

Literally any time he purposefully touched Will in episode 119, it hurt Will, even though Montresor was trying to “protect” him, he’s literally the reason Will has blood coming out of his mouth (I’m pretty sure the impact of Montresor hitting Will’s chest when he told him to stay back caused some sort of internal bleeding). And now, he’s panicking; you can tell from the crazed look in his eyes. He’s frantically trying to convince Will to get up but deep down I think he knew there was no hope. He’s more so trying to desperately console himself that he won’t fuck up something again like he always does.

Something’s changed— he’s noticeably more gentle now than he ever was before. Look at the way he holds onto Will’s robe, it’s almost like he’s trying to put it back on, like he’s trying to repair his mistakes.

Behold, Mont-don’t-fucking-touch-me-quit-bootlicking-me-tresor crashing out over the only time Will refuses one of his orders. What’s wrong? I thought you wanted him to stop boot-licking you 😗 bipolar much?

Montresor lashes out at everyone and tbh I think it’s from how he was raised. Ever since he was born he was literally deemed blasphemous. He got a ridiculous amount of attention from everyone around him and was constantly shunned for his actions, so I’m guessing he eventually succumbed to becoming the monster the church claimed he would be. Makes sense, why would he show sympathy towards anyone when nobody bothered showing any to him? But Will was different, he knew growing up that he could never be someone who mattered. NOBODY paid attention to him. I know people will reduce Will’s attraction to stronger men as “omg cute twink!1!” but really, insecure people are drawn towards people who they deem are confident figures that can provide stability to their lives, sort of like an anchor.

Do I think Monty’s actually confident? Lol no. I think both Will and Montresor hate themselves in a way— Will believes his self-worth depends on pleasing others while Monty believes that he’s already far beyond any form of redemption, so he’s kind of embraced being an awful person while Will’s dream is to just improve himself in a way he never could while alive.

Montresor lashes out at everyone because it provides some form of stimulation for him, it makes him feel better about himself— if the church labeled him as a monster, then hell yeah he’s gonna be one and scare the living shit out of them like they did to him. He isn’t sympathetic towards anyone and doesn’t expect anyone to be sympathetic towards him back. Yet here is Will, who STILL stuck with him after being violently beat and impaled twice, dying in his arms. I don’t think Monty can wrap his head around why anyone would do this and for the first time in his life he actually feels guilty for something.

Montresor doesn’t immediately shove Will off of himself, he lets Will grab onto his jacket collar probably because he thinks Will is going to use it to haul himself back onto his feet…except he actually kisses him, much to Montresor’s surprise LMAOOO

I didn’t notice this when I first read the chapter but Montresor puts Will’s robe back on before pushing him away— unlike episode 119, he actually tries not to injure Will further and avoids touching the shoulder with the bite wound; he uses the robe to safely pull Will off him.

He tried fixing him— the robe is on properly now.

The robe falls right off Will’s shoulder again. Montresor’s efforts ended in vain.

If this doesn’t prove the “Montresor never cared about Will” people wrong idk what will. We’ve never seen another circular speech bubble with the scribbly lines (hoarse/about to cry voice?) from Montresor besides maybe the church episode. He definitely didn’t give two shits at the start but now everything’s changed. We went from “you really are good for nothing” to “you did good, Will”. AAAAH!

Not only did Will die, he died doing something Montresor did NOT expect— idk if Montresor has actually even touched a religious text in quite a while since he doesn’t remember how to pray, but homosexuality was possibly discussed in the cult he grew up in. Even though Monty’s canonically an atheist, he literally swears in Jesus’ name when Will kisses him, he has a whole cross necklace under his uniform too; that religious trauma will never leave him, and Will kissing him only further cemented the fact that he is a sinner; the only person who’s actually compatible with him is a man. I also like how it’s fine when he sleeps with a gazillion women but when a man kisses him he starts tweaking— not really historically wrong if you consider that being gay was labeled as a major sin AND a mental issue in both Will and Monty’s respective time periods. Anyways cue closeted bisexual losing it lmao

Annnd I’ve reached the max image count but the scene where Will literally MELTS?? Straight (gay) nightmare fuel for Monty…left all by (bi) himself (“you’re not funny OP!” everyone says in unison while throwing tomatoes at me, yeah okay I’ll stop) Imo Montresor absolutely forgot about those clones, I bet he thought he was truly going insane and hearing Will’s voice in his head…but hey here’s right next to him and…perfectly fine? damn.

Anyways Will reaches for Montresor, but instead of Monty pushing him away, he instead turns the other way and knocks the crutches out of Will’s hand— he doesn’t hurt Will, he hurts himself by rejecting a mobility aid. Also Will just ignoring the huge bloodstain on the wall and floor right next to his slipper??? WTF??? Why the hell didn’t he say anything about it? Also, we’ve never seen other clones bleed like this before. I wonder if this remaining Will is actually a clone, but since he survived and real Will didn’t, he became real Will now, so the OG melted into wax.

In previous chapters while Will is talking to Montresor, he constantly has this crazed look in his eyes. Will’s eyes are greyish-blue but you can’t even tell in most scenes because they look so black and small all the time from him being so nervous while talking to Monty, like the toothbrush scene and also Will suddenly becoming religious out of nowhere and telling Monty he’s gonna pray after seeing that Monty wears a cross, then completely doing a 360 and agreeing when Monty shares his beliefs as an atheist. Will’s big fat crush was so obvious tbh.

Annnd now Monty is the nervous one. We see one of the first scenes where Will’s eyes are normal sized and blue. Personally? I think Will is actually going to grow a backbone this time and realize Montresor didn’t treat him well. Clone or not, a part of Will just died, and it the most sensitive and vulnerable part that had feelings for Montresor.

I feel like they’re going to (somewhat?) flip their dynamic, it’s definitely going to be hella awkward between them since only Monty remembers the kiss (…and also Will’s dead corpse melting into the floor while reeking of blood, but uhhh yk 😅), I feel like Montresor will be more nervous now while Will will gain confidence. Lenore said it herself, Monty is always scared. I want to see what happens without his mask.

Anyways thanks for coming to my deranged willtresor essay (is it obvious I have audhd), keep writing fanfics (no, not the gooner NSFW willtresor AO3 fanfics…I’ve already found multiple…I SEE Y’ALL—) and uhhh stay strong willtresor nation 🤑🙏

[cutiepiepiesweet]

Exams are over buddy…

One two three..I want yuri!!!

me before and after discovering yuri

Write more fics pls I’ve read all the Yuri mangas, manhuas there are hurry hurry!! (Real not fake)

[pasta-pardner]

attack dogs shouldn't bite the hands that feed them