#〈 * ⋮ SURRENDER IS A TOOL OF THE WEAK — ❛ meme ❜ 〉

[esudes]

*slides on dem nonnie shades* trick or treat / @firstgeta.

( click here for higher res! )

I know it doesn’t look like it but this took me 5 hours. I said I’d work on it for 1 but— obviously my brain knows my self-imposed timelines are bullshit lol. I hope you enjoy it regardless

          @firstgeta    &   @shunkos     // 

               trick or treat! meme (tentatively accepting) 

[aticklishtem]

zadr headcanons of DOOM

aka help tem fell in love with some cartoon dumbasses about 10 years late and has extremely specific needs part 45987

👽 it starts how you might imagine: they’re wrestling over whatever the evil scheme of the day is, Dib accidentally grabs Zim’s side and he flinches and makes this weird noise like...a sorta strangled squeak??

👽 this is a New Development, so obviously Dib’s like “owo what’s THIS” and does it a few more times to be sure and Zim keeps yelping and jerking like he’s being electrocuted (which he probably thinks he IS at first lol), so...“wait ...you’re ticklish??”

👽and Zim’s all “YOU LIIIE” but he actually has no idea what this feeling is?? tickling isn’t really a thing on Irk and sure he’s probably seen humans doing it but never paid much attention, bc no Irken, let alone the amazing Zim, could possibly have such a ridiculous weakness, right??

👽 w r o n g. Dib just smirks like an asshole like “oh really” and proceeds to wreck his shit.

👽 he’s obviously heard Zim laugh before, but this is something else - it’s all over the place from cackles to shrieks and squawks and chirps, when he hits a sweet spot like under his arms or around his PAK. (his feet are also pretty sensitive, but Dib doesn’t find that out til later bc it’s pretty impossible to get his boots off without getting kicked in the face.)

👽 he thrashes and fights like crazy, yells various death threats, ZIM DEMANDS THAT YOU CEEEEASE, etc

👽 meanwhile Dib is just teasing like a mfer bc this is the greatest day of his life, all “give it up, Zim, I know your real weakness!! maybe I’ll just keep doing this forever, you’re not much of a threat to the earth when you’re all giggly and cute—“

👽 cue record scratch bc wait WHAT?? where did that come from??? They both kinda freeze and there’s this moment of Awkward Intense Eye Contact oh my~

👽 until Zim breaks it by demanding to know wHAT DID YOU CALL ZIM?!?! and Dib is furiously denying it bc this is his sworn alien enemy, he’s terrible and evil and not even remotely cute even when he’s all flustered and dishevelled and actually blushing dark green and oh no Dib is So Totally Fucked(™)

👽 in more ways than one lol, the second he lets his guard down Zim pounces on him, the spider legs come out and “Zim will show you who is cute!!” (cute being, of course, the Ultimate Insult)

👽 Dib might have forgotten how ticklish he is (it’s been a while since his dad ain’t exactly the affectionate type and Gaz only touches him to inflict pain), but his sides, ribs and behind his knees are the worst. he also snorts, to his mortification & Zim’s delight.

👽 what Zim lacks in practice he makes up for in “yes, laugh, pitiful Dib-stink!! surrender to helpless hysteria at the merciless claws of Zim!!!” (the additional limbs come in handy too)

👽 oh and GIR helps!! who he decides to help when Zim yells for him is more of a gamble. he just wants to be part of the fun :D

👽 their scuffles mysteriously end in a looot more vicious tickle fights after this. but ifWHEN they eventually stop being idiots and admit that they maybe sorta don’t entirely detest each other as much as they claim?? so many more possibilities~

👽 Zim is particularly weak to tickly kisses, raspberries, nibbles, affection in general tbh. (you know that “what is this”/ “affection”/“disgusting!! ...do it again” meme? basically that. but he’ll never admit it even/especially if it means getting wrecked by his now unfairly taller human. )

👽 Tools? absolutely!!! You know they’re both inventing shit like idk, feather lasers, auto-tickling hairbrushes, anything they can think of to claim the coveted title of Ultimate Tickle Monster.

👽 they may also have detailed maps of each other’s spots, extensive notes on reactions, etc. for research, obviously!!

👽 these probably aren’t limited to tickling purposes buuut that’s all I’m gonna say about that :x

[missolitude]

Milippa (Emperor Georgiou + Michael) Headcanons / Character Exploration (Part I of II) 

for @ballion 💓 - Find Part II here

[Ship meme]

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

Since being part of Section 31, Philippa has the tools to surveil everyone and everything, needless to say she takes advantage of it and she has a liberal interpretation of the word “authorization”. Information is power after all... Of course she keeps tabs on Michael, among many other people.

It’s pure curiosity at first, or so she tells herself. This was her Michael and yet she was not. The first time they fought together, side by side, Philippa felt it in her chest, in her gut, in her heart, pure and intimate trust, familiarity, unconditional affection. It’s something she feels rarely, particularly all three at once, and it takes her aback. But her instincts never betray her, they are her compass and she relies on them.

The first chance she gets, she looks up everything there is to know about Michael, her childhood, her parents, her foster home, her time at the Academy, past lovers, rebellious acts as a teenager, her surprisingly... passionate time with Philippa, her pendant. Who knew Michael was such a dark horse?

Every little juicy secret was now at Philippa’s disposal. She had enough information to put Michael on the spot, to hit her where it hurts the most, she knew all of her weaknesses, where to put her finger to open old wounds, everything. But she knew that she wouldn’t, couldn’t, didn’t want to. All Philippa wanted was to use what she knew to protect her. She truly couldn’t help it. Damned sentimental fool, she thinks and she almost laughs at the absurdity of it all. She can’t bring herself to call it weakness though, she doesn’t feel weak. The opposite. And that’s when she knows that this is her Michael, rules of the universe be damned.

Who initiated the first kiss

It takes Philippa some time to get used to this new Universe. It seemed rather dull to her, mostly. She knew most people’s more... exciting versions back home. But Section 31 changes everything for her. Fellow misfits and freaks, exciting missions, access to all the known information in the galaxy, a liberal approach to rules, more freedom than she would have ever had at Starfleet. And better yet, they appreciated her unique set of skills.

She goes out and gets new piercings and tattoos, a new hairdo, has a couple of threesomes, she spends some time partying without having to fear assassins gunning for her head. Being Emperor had its perks but this? In her mind, this was the next best thing. Clean cut, a fresh start. A place to belong, to have fun, to be herself. And for the first time she is grateful to Michael for being alive.

It still feels weird thinking about Michael, meeting her at the most random times, always knowing more than her and never being allowed to tell her. Maybe it’s this universe’s impractical morality rubbing off on her, on some days she even feels a little guilty. But she relishes their time together. Philippa always ruffles her feathers a bit, Michael is too serious, too logical, too closed off, she wants to see that fire in her eyes again, wants to get a genuine reaction from her, wants to know her, connect with her, see her true self. Michael keeps her at an arm’s length. Philippa knows Michael doesn’t trust her and it stings.

It usually happens when they argue, there is that spark. Michael gets all fiery and stubborn, they butt heads and it feels as though they dance around each other. Like on the battlefield. There is harmony to the tides. Michael pushes and Philippa lets her, sometimes Philippa pushes back and the look in Michael’s eyes changes, her jaw twitches. They connect.

Time softens the tides a little. Philippa tells her as much as she is able, tries to reassure her, tells her she needs to have a little faith - she hates her own wording. Michael doesn’t believe her, she knows. But that’s all she can do, all she can say. Otherwise she won’t be able to protect her.

Much later, when Michael presses Philippa for the truth, Philippa is determined not to give in. But Michael doesn’t play fair. Suddenly Michael stands in front of her and uses Philippa’s first name... like that, and she hates it but her defenses drop. Her name out of Michael’s mouth holds special meaning. It was a distant echo of the intimacy they once shared - not in this universe but did it even matter? The effect was the same.

When Philippa points Michael to Leland for the truth about Michael’s parents she gets through to her for the first time, she can sense it and she feels relief.

When Michael suggests that she is willing to sacrifice herself to find the Red Angel, Philippa has a bad feeling, and her instincts override her defenses a second time. Without thinking, Philippa reaches out to her, touches her shoulder. Their eyes meet. Come back to me. I can’t lose you. Not again. They both think it, but don’t say it out loud.

Philippa is forced to watch Michael die and she feels hollow, paralyzed. There is an empty space in her heart where guilt and grief should be. This was her Michael and she failed to protect her. Yet she just couldn’t feel, she knew the flood of pain wouldn’t stop were she to let it in, it would swallow her whole. Then a miracle happens, Michael lives, and Philippa’s heart opens up to the crushing truth she didn’t want to acknowledge before. The truth of what she really felt, really wanted.

Philippa is there when Michael wakes up for the first time at the infirmary. She is there when Michael hears about her mother. She can’t deny herself the pleasure of getting to know to the woman who has brought this exceptional woman into this world, and it’s an encounter that merely tells her what she already knows. “You’d be surprised what you do for the people you love.” Philippa merely gives a soft, knowing smile at that. Philippa won’t dishonor Michael’s mother by speaking a lie. She wouldn’t sacrifice herself to save the Universe, no. But she would lie down her life without hesitation to save Michael.

After the fight with Control!Leland, Philippa is the one to be taken to the ship’s infirmary, and Michael joins her there. Nothing but a few scratches, Philippa assures. It’s not entirely true. Going against Leland’s augmented body wasn’t a walk in the park. She had quite a few heavy bruises, a couple of cracked ribs and a concussion. Nothing that the Doctor couldn’t fix, and nothing that she wouldn’t go through again for Michael. Michael reaches out to her this time, her hand on Philippa’s, squeezing it gently. She says “thank you”.

Philippa has waited too long to let this moment pass, she takes a hold of Michael’s collar and pulls her down to her, and their lips meet. Philippa’s kiss is firm, hungry, insistent but also gentle. It said “I want you, I’ve wanted you all this time. I want nothing in return but for you to know” Michael is frozen at first, startled. This wasn’t the usual reaction Philippa got after kissing someone. I never took you for a wide-eyed doe, Philippa almost says in hurt pride - she swallows it. She also doesn’t try to convince Michael to stay when she walks out the door. She wouldn’t forgive this were this someone else, but this was Michael. And Philippa knows she needs time. And so time she gives her.

Who said “I love you” first

Philippa. After her kiss, Philippa doesn’t reach out to Michael, she waits for Michael to come to her. The next time they meet aboard the ship, Michael is different. More evasive than usual. Philippa gives Michael a penetrating stare and a smirk, and stands a little too close to her on the elevator. Michael swallows. Interesting. She doesn’t want to press her luck, she steps back and gives Michael space.

The next time they are alone together the tension bubble bursts. Michael grabs Philippa and presses her against the wall, and she kisses her hungrily, roughly. Michael’s violent passion mirrors all of the pent up frustration Philippa had been feeling all this time and Philippa matches it with her own vigor. They don’t take their time. It isn’t ceremonious or beautiful, it’s just hungry desperation and burning passion releasing itself in violent waves, two bodies surrendering to each other in wanton abandon.

The next couple of times are just as passionate and intense but more intimate. Patient. They relish each other. Memorize each other’s bodies. Test each other. Challenge each other. Sometimes it’s a battle for dominance, and Philippa doesn’t make it easy but more often than not she lets Michael win with a little triumphant smirk. She loves the struggle as much as the sweet surrender.

After a couple of months of them doing this, Michael takes Philippa aside and demands answers. Presses the truth out of Philippa. What does Philippa really want from her, what are they to each other? She needs to know. Philippa responds, Michael already does. Michael isn’t satisfied. Then she does it again. This god damn trick. She uses Philippa’s name like that and Philippa just surrenders without a fight. And the words tumble out. 

“Am I that hard to read, Michael? I care about you.” “What does that mean?” “You know what it means.” “No I don’t!” “Your mother once told me, ‘you’d be surprised what you do for the people you love’. That’s not true, I know precisely what I would do for you.” Michael then looks at her shocked, was she really surprised? She must have known. Philippa then cups Michael’s cheek, the tip of her nail gently grazing Michael’s skin, her gesture reminiscent of when they first met in the Mirror Universe. She had only said these words once before, in another life. They had meant just as much back then. “I love you, Michael. I can’t and won’t make any promises but that’s the way I feel.” Michael then puts her own palm above Philippa’s hand and everything feels lighter, clearer, calmer. This probably made their lives a hundred times harder but also, easier. For the first time, Michael doesn’t need to guess where she stands with Philippa. And Philippa won’t have to guess either, they make love that night and Michael says it back.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Philippa is a bit of a saucy minx. She takes any opportunity to tease Michael and if she is unsupervised for a second Philippa is certain to be up to some mischief. Racy pictures of Philippa on Michael’s tablet, kinky messages for Michael on her private channel when she least expects them, sexy lingerie or BDSM toys delivered to Michael’s cabin, she also reprograms Michael’s helmet to show a short video of Philippa winking and blowing Michael a kiss with a smug smile briefly when turning it on. Nothing to do real damage of course, but she likes to show off all of her new gadgets and her skills. If Michael gets a little riled up or turned on over this then it was worth the fun.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

They both aren’t much for cheesy gifts. Philippa isn’t much of a romantic and Michael is just... too straightforward for these things. They take each other out to dinner, however (Philippa always pays, and she knows the best places), Philippa also sometimes shows off Michael to her fancy friends all over the galaxy - in outfits that Philippa has chosen for her of course. Black lace, tight leather, it’s always sexy, sophisticated and badass in equal measure. It sometimes ends in a bit of.. sexual fun as well. At first Michael merely watches, but not for long. It isn’t really jealousy that drives her to join Philippa, she is just too turned on to be just a spectator.

Michael often expresses her affections by sending Philippa books she knows she might like. Stories about badass women and swords, villainous yet smart and complex anti-heroes with a soft core and a girlfriend that would die for them, sexually adventurous women that make no excuses for who or what they are. Poetry written by Channing M, Kiki Karoglou, Margaret Atwood. Anything piercingly dark and profound, and devastatingly dangerous and beautiful, just like Philippa.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning / Who starts tickle fights

It sometimes comes over Philippa, she doesn’t know how or why - she’s never been like that before. But she gets rather affectionate and sweet with Michael at times. Maybe her seriousness just brings it out in her. But also, she just trusts Michael implicitly to never tell anyone - she would have to kill her. A little kiss on the cheek when she doesn’t expect it, a peck on the forehead early in the morning, a little tickle or a poke here or there (sadly Michael isn’t ticklish - she wasn’t a Vulcan but sometimes one could wonder), but also reckless flirting in public places and hot innuendos that were disguised in code but who were they kidding, everyone knew they were an item. Subtle isn’t exactly in Philippa’s repertoire, besides the room temperature literally rises everytime they are in the same room.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

They don’t exactly ask, they just do. Their missions and schedules rarely overlap so they take full advantage of their time together.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

Neither. Not to say they aren’t affectionate towards each other but they’re not that kind of couple. They’re the “oh no my girlfriend is about to be attacked by a giant space monster, better get out there and physically fight it with my bare hands” couple.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

They probably f*cked six times before they even went out together, besides after what both of them went through you don’t get nervous on dates anymore. It also wasn’t a very conventional date. Philippa took Michael to a fancy freak bar where they danced and made out and made everyone’s head turn in the process.

Who kills/takes out the spiders

If there were space spiders Philippa would crush them without much second thought. What? She put them out of their misery.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

Michael probably. She doesn’t drink often, and too much alcohol can set her tongue a little loose. That gets better though when Philippa takes her out to parties more.

[asklotarasarrin]

🖋 Fear

Headcanon Meme

Fear could be a useful tool. She frequently makes use of fear in enemies to convince them to surrender, or to decline to fight. The Ursus Claws functioned better against fleeing foes. Her crew knew better than to talk back to Angron; it would otherwise mean death. Lotara, even in the face of potential death, remains calm and straight faced. To flinch was to admit weakness, and weakness would ensure a prompt demise.

[esudes]

‘ everything about you screams danger. ’

AS  IT  SHOULD.      beneath    her    unyielding    gaze    —    all    were    PREY ;   MICE,   rooted  &&   immobile,   staring  down  the  cavernous  throat,  as  a  tongue  flicked  over  the  serpent’s  fangs.    FUTILE   was   resistance,   death  inevitable. 

SURVIVAL  OF  THE  FITTEST.    the  weak  will  always  try,  whether  with  politics  or  wealth  or friendship,  to  amend  their  faults,  fill  in  their  flaws.     but  again,    futile  was   resistance.   the   strong   will   live,   the   weak   will   die  —  the  unavoidable   &&   immutable   LAW  of  the  world. 

so  come,  all  who  fear  &&   despise,   come  in  hoards  or  armies,   for   the   hands   that   have  stripped  the   sun   from   incalculable   lives,   for   the   feet   that   have   crushed   the   heroes   of   sanity   and  pride,   for   the   unrepentant   lips   &&   unforgiving   eyes,       come   for   her   life. 

or   RUN.   run   far   away,   mute   protesting   pride   &&   obey   that   instinctive   voice,    screaming  —           ‘  she  is  fear,  she  is  danger,  she  is  THE  END.  ’ 

“  keen observation.  ”   jovial  mirth  spread  upon  tilted  lips,  “  and  quite  the  compliment.  ” with  hands  laced,  folded  beneath  a  delicate  chin,  it  appeared  as  if  she  was  pleased.  “  the  same  could  be  said  of  yourself.  dangerous— ”  pause,  “   —but  not  frightening.  I  do  not  fear you,  though  that  might  be  obvious.  The  real  curiosity  is,  ”  

          “  do  YOU   fear   me ?  ” 

[  GRAVE SUGGESTIONS  //  meme  ]

[esudes]

[ guide ] your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .

A TOUCH —  WARMTH SEEPING THROUGH LAYERS, SEARING MARROW &&  BONE. one  thousand  meanings  conveyed  by  one  silent  motion.   to  straying  eyes,  did  it  read  as  possessive?   shockingly  gentle,  (  daresay soft  ) ?   his  hand,  fingers  just  slightly  spread,  spanned  the  entirety  of  her  waist,  making  the  Great  General  seem . . .  delicate   beneath  his  touch.  an   ILLUSION,   (  no  one  dared  to  think  of  it  as  anything  other  than  such ) ,  but  still  —   a  burning  sight,  incapable  of  being  FORGOTTEN.  

yet  she,  not  as  ignorant  nor  as  insular,   heard  what  they  missed.   his   TRUST  —  in  her  strength,  in  her  stance  —  &&   his   WARNING.    the  refusal  to  bow,  to  yield  beneath  her  heels.  admirable  and  thrilling,  but  not  enough  to  sway  her  resolve.  everything  that  lay  between  them  (  this  touch,  this  warmth,  this . . .  )  will  never  be  anything  but  transient  &&   temporary. 

one  second  of   INDULGENCE   on  the  weight  of  his  hand,  before  steps  of  distance  broke  the  trance.  fingers  curled  and  drew  the  thin  blade  from  its  sheath.  turning,  blue  strands  a  swirling  storm,  sharp  tip  pressed  to  the  center  of  his  chest  (  not  piercing  even  a  single  thread ).

“   this  one’s  mine.   ”         meaning  purposefully  ambiguous.  eyes  narrowed  just  a  fraction  with  spreading  lips  before  focus  returned  to  all  that  stood  opposed,  leaving  behind  just  the  trace  of  her  icy  touch.

          〈 * ⋮   NON-SEXUAL DOMINANCE — ❛ meme ❜   〉  

[esudes]

💃 ( and Komm Susser Tod plays as they slow dance around piles and piles of monster corpses. )

[ pull my muse to dance // NONVERBAL STARTERS (accepting) ]

(  ‘  I  thought  that  I  could  live  for  no  one  else  ’  )

FAMILIAR.  ONE  SWING,  TWO  STEP.   this  feeling  gnawing  at  the  base  of  her  skull,  so  persistent.  why,  what—   oh.  right.     this  dance.    though  time  had  ground  memories  down  to  but  a  phantom  touch,  still  she  found  herself  waiting  for  that  BURN  OF  CRIMSON,  to  meld  to  her  cerulean  storm.

(  ‘  I  know  we  can't  forget  the  past,  you  can't  forget  love  and  pride.   ’  )

a  punch  forced  the  air  from  her  lungs.  breathless,  she  blinked,  mind  flickering,  unfocused —  (   how  many  dances  had  they  had ?   how  many  degrees  was  their  heat ?   &&   how  many  inches  now  lay  between ?  )

recovery  was  ( nearly )  instantaneous.  her  spread  of  blue  swallowing  every  soul,  every  thought,  every  particle  until  time  itself  HALTED,  leaving  just  silence  &&   her. 

(  ‘  It  all  returns  to  nothing  ’  )

death  was  inevitable,  unavoidable.  but  just  this  once,  a  little  mercy  seeped  into  her  fingertips,  as  one  clean  strike  through  the  heart  delivered  a  PAINLESS  end.  and  as  time  once  more  began  to  tick,  a  shiver  of  HEAT  crawled  up  her  skin.   familiar,   but  nothing  more  than  a  pale  mimicry.

(  ‘  it  all  comes  tumbling  down,  tumbling  down,  tumbling  down.  ’  )

(      “  wha--   ”  cut  off  with  laughter,  she  followed  the  pull  on  her  wrist.  fingers  twined  naturally,  without  prompt,  warmth  sparking  through  her  frozen  bones.  a  mere  inch  between  their  chests,  but  heat  filled  the  cracks,  and  it  felt   like  no  space  at  all.   “   I’m  afraid  I’m  not  familiar  with  this  kind  of  dance.  ”   yet  easily  she  moved,  small  steps,  back  &&  forth,  swaying  to  a  familiar  rhythm. 

it  didn’t  matter  after  all,  a  misstep  here  or  a  fumble  there,  as  long  as  they  did  what  they  wanted  to,     lived    like  they  wanted  to.    )

[esudes]

“ i’m terrified of becoming the monster i sought to destroy ”

‘ MONSTER — CRUEL & HEARTLESS. ADORNED IN HUMAN FLESH. ’ countless  reiterations  spat,  whimpered,  raged  at  her,  yet  beneath  the  surfeit  of  emotions,  constant was  the  thrum  of  FEAR.   (   it  had  a  taste,  acrid  &&   biting,  that  coated  her  tongue,  though  long had  it  been  since  that  novelty  waned.  )

curiosity  sparked,  ‘ monster ’  carrying  only  ambiguity  on  her  lips,  as  to  when  and  whom  would  pull that  word  from  her  lungs.    monster.   it  never  quite  fit,  not  on  those  with  features  distorted  &&  unsightly,  nor  on  those  with  tastes  perverse  &&  depraved.  ahh  —  that   was  missing,  that  constant,  f e a r. 

because  MONSTER ?   it’s  shape  transforms  from  eye  to  eye,  hazy  &&  amorphous.  it’s  not  bound  by  a  visage  or  trait  or  time  –  no,  monster  is  just  a  phrase  given  to  that  which  encompasses  our  fears. 

perhaps  accurate  then,  was  monster  for  a  label.  because  even  though  HUMAN  were  her  heart  and  lungs,  lips  and  tongue,  from  beneath  her  heel,  amorphous  she  appears  as  FEAR  blossoms  and  entwines,     retching  out  one  last  testament   —   ‘ monster ’.

blink  once,  twice,  yet  still  lacking  was  comprehension,   “  your  fear  is  not  of  the  monster  itself  but  rather  becoming  it.  ”     incredulous.     “   you  speak  as  if  you  were  but  a  PAWN  in  your  own  life,  a passive  bystander.   ” 

a  smile  tilted  up  a  fraction  on  one  side,  lingering  was  her  amusement,  “  Just  become  stronger,  until  no  one  can  string  you  like  a  puppet.  then  when  you  reach  the  top,  you'll  look  down  and  realize,   ”    

              “  they  may  call  you  a  monster,  but  really,  what  you  are  is  free.  ” 

[ VINDICTIVE SUGGESTIONS  //  MEMES ]

[esudes]

tag dump