#I say 'fear' very lightheartedly

[aggressive-almond-cookie]

hhhhhh I just got 10 splats in a game and that’s definitely a personal record but 3/4 of them were from ultra stamp and I don’t know how to feel about this. I have such a love/hate/??? relationship with this special. I feel like I can only barely control it and can rarely hit specific targets with it so I’ve learned not to rely on it for anything other than inking and being a huge distraction but every so often it just mows down the whole enemy team. apparently sometimes twice.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You try and take Tangerine to the movies to cheer him up.

Prompt: "Watch where you're going! You almost took my eye out with that thing!" - "I've never heard a bigger lie."

~ for you my lovely @j23r23! love you and thank you for always supporting my writing! ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

When Tangerine is in a bad mood, he usually manages to turn everyone else in a bad mood.

This evening, he's being particularly moody as he mopes around your shared apartment, feeling crushed that he and Lemon lost one of their big jobs to some rival assassin.

You're curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone as he paces in front of you, muttering curses and insults at his rival. Lemon is in his room, listening to some music. He seemed fine with not doing the job, but his brother is very obviously spiraling from not having something to do this evening.

"Tan," you say, pulling Tangerine's attention to you, and then you smile a genuinely happy smile. "Wanna go see a movie with me?" you ask, to cheer him up. 

Tangerine looks at you like you're insane. "No," he deadpans. 

You narrow your eyes at him, only slightly hurt. "No? Then what? You're gonna complain uselessly the entire evening like a loser?" you laugh lightheartedly.

Tangerine's cheeks turn bright red. "Fuckin' pardon me?"

You stand and smile kindly at him again, rushing up the stairs to your room to change and call to him, "Be ready to leave in ten minutes or I'm taking Lemon instead."

Your threat clearly works because soon, you're standing in the line for popcorn. Tangerine is holding the tickets for the movie in his hand and he intends on paying for your popcorn too—even though he doesn't outwardly look happy about it. 

While you ramble on and on about what kind of candy you think he would want considering he'd turned down popcorn, a teenage couple, dressed in costumes for some new superhero movie, almost bumps into him and the boy's prop almost smacks Tangerine in the eye.

He groans and then grabs the boy's arm just as he almost hits you. 

"Oi, watch where yer goin'! Ya almost took m'eye out with that thing!" Tangerine exclaims.

You frown, sensing the couple's fear as they stumble away. You hold Tangerine's forearm, calming him down. "Alright there, barky," you tease with a smaller smile, "I don't think they meant to almost hit you."

Almost hit you, Tangerine wants to correct you because he didn't give a shit if that thing had hit him.

He eyes lose any hint of violence, however, when he hears your voice but then his eyebrow shoots up in question. 

"Barky?"

You laugh, not meaning it badly. You never do. "Yeah. You're like a guard dog sometimes. Although, you're always all bark and never any bite." 

Not with you, he thinks again but he doesn't say it aloud as he just huffs and walks closer to the counter to order your snacks.

Tangerine finds the movie incredibly irritating and he almost walks out multiple times. The only thing keeping him with you is you. The way you laugh along to the corny jokes, the way you squeeze his hand sometimes when something a little scary happens during the action, and the way you'll look so captivated by the romance scenes.

As the movie continues, Tangerine's attention has turned to you. He's barely watching the screen now as he finds you much prettier than anyone on the screen. 

Once the movie is finished and you're walking back to his car (because yes, he'd also driven you here), he comments, "If I'd known that tosser was in it, I wouldn' hav' gone," Tangerine snarls.

"Who?" you ask curiously, looping your arm in his as you keep him close. Tangerine looks at you and he sees how you're shivering. Without a word, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and continues the conversation as if nothing happened, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder like a teenage boy who'd just made a move.

You smile and pull his jacket closer around you. It smells like him. 

"That Ryder prick," Tangerine says, "He's so fuckin' unbearable."

You pause and feel warmth in your cheeks as Tangerine continues and adds, "I know you think he's hot and all—"

"I never said that— I don't think he's hot!" you snap immediately, defending yourself.

Tangerine laughs and rolls his eyes. "I 'av never heard a bigger lie," he says and pokes your cheek, grinning wolfishly, "you were practically drooling all over yourself."

Your heart skips and you look at him, retorting, "and how would you know? Why were you looking at me during the movie, Tan?"

He knows you've caught him and he pauses, finally laughing. "Okay, fuckin' touché, darlin'." Tangerine shrugs and only pulls you closer to him.

"You're way more interesting than some stupid movie anyway, can ya blame me?"

Tangerine is relaxing, his tense demeanor from earlier in the evening has vanished and you smile. This is what you wanted. You feel successful in cheering him up and making him forget about his damned work for a while. You like his company and you smile up at him. 

"Okay, rate the movie out of ten," you say, grinning.

"Three, because I had to watch that arsehole think he can act," Tangerine says and just as you open your mouth to protest, his lips hit your temple and you tense, a familiar warmth spreading inside your chest. "But then ten because I got to spend some time with my favorite girl."

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion

[theeoriginals]

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does. 

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as. 

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah. 

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it. 

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.” 

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,” 

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,” 

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.” 

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,” 

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.” 

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.” 

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace. 

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly. 

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,” 

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.” 

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief. 

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.” 

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos. 

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet. 

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him. 

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday. 

Regrets a lot of things, too. 

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone. 

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her. 

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second. 

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?” 

────── 

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to. 

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy. 

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it. 

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly. 

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times. 

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow. 

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake. 

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse. 

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins. 

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped. 

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows. 

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity. 

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him. 

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal. 

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too. 

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place. 

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it. 

It’s embarrassing more than anything else. 

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case. 

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water. 

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit. 

────── 

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.” 

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it. 

“What about you?” 

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?” 

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again. 

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.” 

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,” 

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?” 

“You,” 

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth. 

“Me? What about me?” 

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–” 

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t. 

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?” 

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat. 

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him. 

He rears back like she’s slapped him. 

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really. 

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.” 

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking. 

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve. 

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–” 

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her. 

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.” 

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle. 

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,” 

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,” 

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” 

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him. 

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?” 

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” 

“Forever,” 

“Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.” 

[cerise-on-top]

Hello!! How would tf141 react to a very sassy reader? Like sassing them out for no reason what so ever?

Hey! Like this, I think!

TF141 with a Sassy Reader

Price: He can appreciate some good sass, as long as it’s appropriate. God knows how often he’s been sassed by one of his soldiers, especially Gaz, so he doesn’t mind it, to some degree. You can sass him if you want, he’ll sass you back if he can think of a comeback that’s fitting. However, if you sass him for the sake of being mean to him instead of trying to get a good chuckle out of something, or maybe making a situation less dire, then he won’t be as appreciative of it. Don’t get me wrong, Price could shout at you if he really wanted to, but he’d much rather make you feel some guilt and remorse for inappropriate behavior. Although it’s fairly rare that happens, it will happen if you get on his nerves too much. Will then ask you if you think what you said was really appropriate in such a situation. You can then apologize still and all will be good as long as you keep your mouth shut. Once he’s calmed down, you can crack a joke at his expense again. Again, he’s used to such things as a captain, but keep it professional and stay polite, for the most part, and you won’t have a problem with him.

Gaz: He sasses you right back. He’s not particularly afraid of authority as long as they’re up for some good natured fun. So it really doesn’t matter if you’re above or below him rank wise. As soon as you open your mouth and some sass leaves it, he’ll immediately have thought of something to say in retaliation. I wouldn’t be surprised if you small sass battles could go on for a while. It’s a game to him, the first person that doesn’t know how to respond anymore simply loses, end of story. Will slightly mock you if you did lose, though. After all, you use such big words, and then you lose to him of all people? Surely, you can do better. It’s not impossible to out-sass Gaz, but he always has something stupid to say if he can, so it would take a while before you could properly beat him at his own game. He doesn’t give up easily either. Even as the conversation is about to be over, if he can think of something to say he’ll just say it. Sort of ends up looking forward to talking with you, sometimes he just needs to be a little shit who runs his mouth without any consequences. Sassing Price sometimes brings consequences with it, but not with you. With you he’ll be as lightheartedly mean as he can be.

Ghost: He’s been shit talked so much, he doesn’t really care anymore. He’s a scary and intimidating guy, so naturally people have something to say about him. However, most of them usually don’t have the courage to say anything like it to his face. So yeah, he would be a bit surprised if someone actually did sass him for a bit. Would go quiet for a moment, processing that someone just said something mean to him. When he wants to be, even Ghost can be a bit sassy himself, though in his case he usually just ends up sounding mean more so than anything else. Will “sass” you back when he can. It’s a bit intimidating from someone like him, especially since his sass borders on threatening, but you can be sure he won’t go through with it. He just really wants to see how far he can push this entire thing and what he needs to do in order for you to stop running your mouth and cower in fear as well. That never comes, however, so he ends up sassing/threatening you a bit as well. I could see you becoming buddies over this, it’s really rare for someone to talk to him like that. It makes him smile when you can think of an especially good comeback. Might sass someone alongside you, if they really deserve it.

Soap: He definitely has some fun with you. Although he can be quite sassy himself as well when he wants to be, he usually just hops on the jokes of other people. Sees you sassing him as some kind of challenge, so you can be certain he’ll challenge you right back. After all, if you can run your mouth then surely you can prove yourself as well, right? It’s all a competition in his eyes and he’s somewhat of a sore loser. Though, if you really are all talk and there’s nothing behind what you’re saying, then he’ll get Gaz involved as well, thinking that, because his buddy is very sassy himself, there will be some fun sassing going on. He’s usually right, but he still stands by what he said: You should be able to prove yourself after everything you have to say. Soap doesn’t take too kindly to being sassed for no reason whatsoever. He will take you up on what you said and will have you do it better than he does. If you are better than him, fine. You get to run your mouth as much as you want, he can’t really complain then. However, if you end up being worse at something than he is then he’s earned every right to sass you to hell and back instead. It’s all fair in his eyes. If you improve you get to sass him again, but good luck.

[relaxxattack]

Now i really wanna hear your take on roses internalised homophobia, pretty please?

tw for mentions of csa and incest (NOT where i thought this post was going to go but it ended up there sorry 😭)

rose employs homophobic jokes for like, the entirety of the first few acts lmao. all of the kids do, because it’s 2009 and that’s just what was funny— but it’s entirely obvious in my opinion that she does not actually “know” her friends are gay, she literally only does it to make fun of them. aka homophobia

of course, this is a really mild form of homophobia that can also be taken purely lightheartedly. but in some of the kid’s cases (cough dave) it’s also really obvious that rose’s playful prodding sometimes actually pressed on things that are genuinely uncomfortable.

eg the page where dave complains about being tricked into getting covered in sex puppets by his older brother (a type of csa he experiences on the regular and is sometimes even filmed for porn websites — something he is only just starting to come to terms with his fear of ) and rose not only bullies him by saying that he probably likes it, but writes shakespearean poetry to him about his puppet assault.

of course, this is fucking hilarious. rose is hilarious. but the joke itself is purely rooted in the homophobic idea of “haha dave wouldn’t it be funny if you were gay”, employed while dave was continuously having his sexual boundaries eroded by an adult man— aka the worst possible time to make this joke. like, it’s a wonder dave even manages to come out as gay by the end of the comic at all, considering his experiences.

and, at the risk of making this conversation even more uncomfortable, i probably should mention that as much as nobody fucking likes it, rose did canonically have a thing for dave in the earlier acts (according to hussie). i highly doubt she actually for real thought he was gay.

aka: by all accounts rose was definitely a homophobic little comphetter at the start of homestuck. but watching her grow out of that is a beautiful thing and we should all cheer and clap for her.

my point is that rose isn’t nearly as all-knowing or based as people make her out to be. she DOESN’T know everything about dave and everyone else, she isn’t able to magically push them all in the right direction for their transitions or sexuality epiphanies. rose is just as confused as anyone! she just acts like she’s not! for fucks sake this is the girl who got tricked by doc scratch and the horrorterrors. literally world’s most obvious traps, she walked right into, smugly thinking she was too mature and above it to be affected.

rose is a child. she’s playing pretend. she doesn’t know shit about fuck about anyone else, and she has her OWN hangups about life and romance she needs to work through before she can be employed as the “therapist friend” for every other character. she might TELL people she’s “very mature for her age”, but all this does is make her a bigger target for manipulation later. because at the end of the day:

rose is thirteen years old. in 2009. she’s gonna have some issues.

[sleepinginmygarden]

pov: you share an umbrella with them

w/gojo, geto, toji but it's unfinished

contains: fluff, not proofread, friends w/mutual pinning ig?, gojo/geto college!au ?

satoru gojo

he doesn't need an umbrella because of his infinity, yet he insists you two share your umbrella because he's 'forgotten' his at home

the truth is, he purposively leaves his umbrella whenever the forecast predicts rain

he would never turn down an opportunity to be close to you

"gojo, how do you manage to forget your umbrella every time it rains? do you ever read the forecast?" you huff whilst opening your umbrella under the roof of tokyo jujutsu high.

gojo stands tall with a beaming smile next to you, "oh come on, don't be like that bunny! i'm a very busy man, things slip pass my mind" he boasted, you know he's lying but you brush it off. he fidgets slightly before reaching out to your hand with the umbrella, "here, let me hold it instead"

his fingertips lightly trace your hand as you give the umbrella to him, "just don't get me drenched, gojo" you warned lightheartedly as he takes it

"no need to fear, you're in good hands with the strongest" he announces dramatically gesturing to himself

you shook your head with a smile

"no fear here"

suguru geto

this man is organised, he is definitely the one to bring and hold the umbrella for you two

walking side by side, you occasionally bump shoulders every now and then and exchange shared "sorry's" every time

if he notices you getting wet, he tells you to come closer

"hey, come closer i don't want you getting wet okay?"

(he's so- sorry anyways)

as you two strolled side by side, geto checks on you with an attentive glimpse.

"hey, you can come closer, you know? i don't want you getting wet. i'm not gonna bite" he chuckles shifting his hand closer to you for the umbrella to cover you further.

"oh no, it's okay. the umbrella is yours after all"

"and i wouldn't want you getting sick because of my negligence" he explains, the glint in your eyes as you smile at him warms the air between you two. he shuffles closer and you're both shoulder to shoulder for the rest of the walk.

toji fushiguro

he's a big guy so i'd imagine it would be a struggle to share.. lmao

he'd probably hold it up for you but most of it is covering you since he really doesn't care about the rain it's "just water" he says nonchalantly as you tell tell him your concerns of him getting wet

he wouldn't even consider bringing an umbrella but because it's you, he'll hold your umbrella always

[fumifooms]

Ok maybe kinda of a weird question you don't have to answer if you don't want to but I've seen some people saying that Chilchuck is canonically misogynistic so, as the Chilchuck especialist, do you have an opinion about that?

Anon you are brave and I love you. Listen if you, person reading this, get peeved or upset when people say Chilchuck might have had not insignificant flaws as a father and husband then probably stop reading here, we will be looking at Chilchuck like a petri dish and defile his pristine allure. Tldr: yes but actually no but really both at the same time aka people & social dynamics are complex and please let your blorbos be flawed. With that said I will be pretty casual and playful if that wasn’t clear already, sorry.

"Aren’t you happy to be in a harem party" "No it’s soul-crushing save me". Toshiro has been drinking his fear women juice since he was young, surrounded by an assassin nanny and her fellow assassin girlies, meanwhile Chilchuck having flashbacks of getting wrung out by his 4 women household…

Waiting on people is something we see he hates doing a couple times throughout canon and extras, here and how he says "it’s not a date" -bless his summer child heart- he frames being slow to get ready as a gendered trait to have? But I can forgive him for this one because honestly the framing of the whole page leans into that, it’s kinda questionable if we’re being highly critical of anything misogynistic or regressive. But it itself is the classic subversive "Women are desirable wallflowers— Wrong! They are a monstrous ruthless force that wears on the mind, body and soul" trope. I don’t fault Kui though I got giggles from it, it makes sense for everyone’s characters, and Kui has never shied from gendered dynamics in her worldbuilding & characters so it’s not like she’ll write as if sex changes nothing and no one has opinions about it.

Alright alright let’s step back from analyzing this page specifically and get back to the question, is Chilchuck canonically misogynistic? It’s a complex question not because we don’t have hints but because it’s a very black and white answer to give and because misogynistic can be very wide or pretty narrow depending on how the term is applied.

What I would say? Yes, he is, in a realistic way that doesn’t automatically make him a piece of shit, though that doesn’t mean it isn’t uncomfortable or harmful. On the spectrum of misogyny he classifies to me as "It’s in the normalized lighthearted way of being a horny uncle who’s a little too loose about it around the dinner table", he’s a solid "He wants to treat women as pieces of meat and jokes about it but in actuality he’s a gentleman and a family careerman who has a job so he don’t really care about that rn".

Going back to Toshiro’s party, Chilchuck being weird about it being full of women doesn’t even happen only once but TWICE. I made a compilation of every time he’s crass, happens less than you might expect but the overall picture it gives throughout reading the manga is pretty straightforward. Repeatedly he’s shown to be dirty-minded and objectify & sexualize women lightheartedly unprompted. They’re a punchline and they’re eye candy and it’s "of COURSE my succubus would be young women, of COURSE women would desire a muscled statue’s [redacted], of COURSE women are sexual beings and of course I am attracted to them".

Dungeon Meshi doesn’t bring up sexuality much and gendered dynamics tend to be more subtle than you’d expect from media in general, so there’s that, but I honestly struggle to think of any character that acts less normal about women existing than him. Like yeah he’s joking but Hien, Benichidori, Inutade and Maizuru were just breathing and doing their jobs. Who else’s misogynistic uhh, that guy working for the shadow governor that licks Cithis’ ear when she’s bound in ropes? The sheer jump from ‘makes demeaning jokes about women’ to ‘assaulter’ between these two, god.

Honestly it does feel odd to me that he’d be kinda demeaning like that about women even in a workplace setting —Chilchuck the union man out of everyone?— but Kui has spoken man idk, think what you will don’t shoot the messenger. It’s not like he’s weird about Namari? I guess he respects her too much- Wait that sounded wrong. Maybe it’s literally just because she and the other women party members are his direct coworkers, in line with his rule and all? But yeah, even if he canonically had a thing for blondes and pretty young women he has managed to only tease Marcille ceaselessly for fun & entertainment and make her hair extra shiny as his shapeshifter, you get a good behavior star there Chilchuck. He complains on waiting for Marcille to get ready in the barometz chapter but he also does with Laios when he’s late to meet up the party in extras. He constantly pulls on Marcille to get her to safety as if she can’t protect herself but she’s referred to as clumsy a lot so he has that justified reasoning. He constantly berates everyone so no point to make there. He undermines Marcille’s opinions often but it’s because he dislikes mages and elves and idealism. Clearly Chilchuck knows women can be capable and clearly he can have women coworkers (and friends! Again, Namari) without belittling or sexualizing them, clearly he can be normal about women and knows that some of his attitude can be inappropriate. It’s just harmless fun to him, that he keeps for occasional playful banter and taverns and the ‘right’ moods.

And as I mentioned earlier! Chilchuck is also pretty gentlemanly and protective. As always desires vs wants and instinct vs rationality show up as themes. Yes his succubus aka his ideal, the deepest allure he can imagine, is beautiful naked women, but a chapter just before that was the bicorn, all about how faithful and virtuous he is, how his heart’s in the right place. His brain is virtuous but his heart is monkey. My point is that when it counts, aka 90% of the time and when things are serious, we don’t see signs of sexist bias and he treats women well. Often takes on a protector role or at the least takes them seriously, even Benichidori. He doesn’t want to hurt women or thinks they’re insignificant or anything. He’ll give a handkerchief to a woman in need with a slimy face.

Okay okay this is really entering speculation territory but in my own tally, the way he dismissed his wife’s ‘bad mood’ as some meaningless tantrum that he shouldn’t think any more deeply about, him starting out not reaching out to her as a resentful silent treatment, and her getting dissatisfied in the first place enough to leave makes me think he took her for granted and was kinda dismissive of her in general. Marcille’s theorical scenario is hypothetical and factually untrue at least in parts, but if we do follow it, him forgetting he’s out with his wife for once (in the precious counted time he’s home spending time with her) and not paying attention to her all outing, resulting in her being left out of conversations and just an ornament beside him the way she might have felt for a long time as his housewife waiting home for him to come back………

Half-foots seem to be patriarchal. The last section of this essay’s chapter (not by me!) + combing through the half-foot chapter should give you insight on that if you want. It’s in their patronymic, it’s in the way marriage seems very important especially for women, and it’s in the implied gender roles, being a housewife whose life revolves around raising her husband’s kids and taling care of the family home waiting for her husband who’s out working to come back. I think Chilchuck is a bit a result of his environment and upbringing in that way, that most of the misogyny is internalized and subconscious and passive, it’s taking his wife for granted because not only does she trust her, his most precious person he’s known since he was a kid, but because she’s his wife, his woman, conceptually something that’s unwaveringly devoted, something that is very valued and enforced in half-foot communities. Here’s a short post on half-foot family bonds culturally + here’s a post on marriage and half-foots for more. The community aspect of half-foots is very strong, which makes sense especially for how empoverished and discriminated against they are, which does come at the expense of not unlike dwarves (dwarves which half-foots idolize) having more pressure to fit in and have a good reputation to not be cast out and have no support lines. By being scared and needing stability people will often be more conservative, etc etc, though the reverse is also often true, like Chilchuck with his union. But yes Chilchuck seems to have many biases he clings onto, harsh on especially Marcille and Laios, Marcille for her idealism, race and magic meanwhile Laios for his lack of social skills and ‘reckless’ behavior.

He also does the classic "Don’t you dare date my daughter!!", though it’s a bit up in the air because he only gets agitated about coworkers being suitors, not nearly as hostile to the idea when it’s some nameless dwarf. But y’know when a guy assumes every men is as horny and sleazy as they are so they’re like "never trust men"… Chilchuck does embody a lot the tropes of just, the everyday flawed middle aged man. The absentee father and careerman husband who does care despite it all. Disillusioned grumpy old man. Old divorced drunkard joe with a thing for cute young blonde women, as a friend put it.

We know Kui subverses tropes a lot, I definitely think Kui leans into these if nothing else for the bit. He’s tropes of the strict family Father, man doing inappropriate jokes around a beer with his drinking buddies, working man exhausted and frustrated by his job, midlife crisis. Also because of how he acts with Marcille, I always say he’s the boy on the playground pulling on the pigtails of his girl friend bc he thinks it’s funny. Because he thinks she’s pretty.

So point blank, Chilchuck respects women as individuals but he can get a little lost in the sauce when thinking about women in general and jumps to sexualizing them in ways that can be objectifying and dismissive. Casual lowkey misogyny for the bit that may or may not slip into non-jokes as well sometimes when it comes to seeing women as something inherently to defend or take for granted, though he’s well-meaning. He engages in gender roles of "men should be strong and burly" and "daughters should listen to their fathers’ opinion before dating a guy". A guy engaging in patriarchy without thinking much of it y’know, more or less passive and unaware. He’s good in economic and human rights issues but would not win the political correctness medal (though he does care about optics and is very conscious of appearing as upstanding and innocent with the elves or Toshiro’s and Kabru’s parties to avoid getting thrown in jail. Overcompensating for half-foot criminal reputations etc etc. Post on that here).

Do I believe Chilchuck would march for women’s rights? Yes. Do I believe he would make ‘ye old ball and chain’ and ‘my wife’ and ‘ah women’ jokes? Yes. Do I believe he would punch anyone making one such jokes about his wife or daughters? Yes.

I was pretty flippant bc honestly Chilchuck the Sleazy Horny Old Man is hilarious to me but yes hopefully the post was decent. "How could I be sexist? I love bitches"

[loserchildhotpants]

there is something so sad abt this exchange, and so foreboding.

Aziraphale is still so focused on Heaven and The Rules™️ and he’s so frightened— it’s funny for a while, up until it’s not, and Crowley winds up feeling the need to save Aziraphale from that fear.

"Well yeah, you did but...I'm not going to tell anyone. Are you? … well, then nothing has to change.”

He says it lightheartedly, but it defines their entire relationship; he knows Aziraphale won’t go confessing to being anything other than Pure and Good in the eyes of Heaven, even if he knows so well already that he did the right thing. It’s not right by Heaven’s rules, so Aziraphale can’t speak of it with anyone outside of Crowley, and even then, he’s so scared to speak of it, he barely can.

Crowley tells him nothing has to change.

“You won’t say anything, I won’t say anything, and nothing ever has to change.” — “we never speak of this blossoming thing between us, i swear I’ll never so much as mention it, because I know this scares you — that I scare you — and that probably will never change. And I won’t make you change. I won’t ask you to. Silence will keep us safe — as long as we don’t define it, you and I, we never have to lose us.”

And then we pivot into the subject of the inherent loneliness of their shared Otherness, and that of course Crowley lies — he’s a demon. It’s like a mockery of Aziraphale, “see, I do The Bad Thing of lying, because I’m simple and evil, you don’t have to think anymore on that. Probably shouldn’t, anyway. If you do, you might notice that I did it to protect you, that I care about you, that good and evil aren’t so simple in reality, and that will make you more scared, more lonely, but I don’t mind protecting you from that, so all you need to know is that I’m a demon and I lie because of course I do.”

He bears the terrible weight of Knowing, which ofc is v fitting of the serpent of Eden, but at some point, Aziraphale has to choose to know, to truly understand the difference between good and right and bad and wrong, and this is where Crowley’s been stuck at for eons.

When he spoke about their love out loud, he was breaking The Unspoken Agreement, he was exposing Aziraphale to the ambiguity of right and wrong, the uncomfortable truth that they can choose who they are, in the world and to each other, and that they should choose each other — that he wants them to.

And he knew Aziraphale would be scared, so he chose his words very precisely, was up and ready to go to the Ritz and fly right by it all, just get it out in the open and maybe wait another thousand years to see if Aziraphale might be willing then to entertain the thought of holding hands or maybe a kiss if he were being very brave — but fear won.

Crowley thought, “I know I promised not to mention it, that neither of us would — but it’s wrong not to. I think the right thing now is for us to speak about it out loud, to just let us love one another — that can’t be wrong, right?”

And Aziraphale said, “you’re the bad guys,” and Crowley realized he’d said what was never supposed to be said, all for nothing.

Aziraphale insisted that he not worry, because he can change Crowley back into a Good Guy, just the opposite of what Crowley said to him back then, saying “I won’t ask you to change, we never have to say it out loud,” — and Crowley’s just back on that rock, just as lonesome as he’s ever been.

I guess the biggest difference with the kiss is that he says not to bother forgiving him. Maybe Aziraphale did forgive him for lying about the inherent loneliness of being Other, but this time? Crowley’s too hurt — and whatever, he’s a demon, right? He’s just a bad guy. What’s worth forgiving?

[mortaswriting]

Chapter 1: First Meeting

this is a #ghoulcy au with the plot of silence of the lambs

Beginning

Lucy MacLean is standing in front of an office. As she enters, she comes face to face with Davey, the agent in charge of the unit she has been assigned to. Upon looking at him, she notices that he has a haunted and restless expression.

Lucy: Good morning, Mr. Ruey.

Davey: I apologize for pulling you out of your training so early... there's a job that came up, and I thought of you. It's not exactly a job, it can be seen as a special assignment...

He hands Lucy a stack of papers (a dossier). Upon opening the dossier, she is confronted with a horrifying image: the brutalized body of a flayed woman.

Davey: We're trying to interview all the serial killers currently in custody for a psychocomp behavioral profile. Most of them were happy to do it... they enjoy boasting about their "works of art." Are you easily frightened, Lucy?

Lucy: Not yet. She said lightheartedly, trying to dispel the heavy atmosphere that had settled in the room.

Davey: I want you to go after someone who hasn't been cooperating much. I need you to go back to the asylum and find him.

Lucy remains silent. For a few seconds, her features appear clouded, and then her face is taken over by a haunted expression.

"The Ghoul, The Cannibal?"

Lucy quickly tries to calm herself down and push away the horror.

"Okay, I can do this."

Davey: I don't expect him to talk to you. We've tested it for a long time, but we couldn't get anything out of him. Howard was a brilliant psychiatrist, he knows all the tricks, he can manipulate you without you even realizing it. So you must be very careful with him.

After finishing giving all the instructions, Lucy headed to the Vault State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

There, she had a far from admirable conversation with Dr. Chet, who was flirting with her the whole time. He was an extremely unpleasant individual. In the end, he explained all the rules to her, about staying away from the glass, not taking anything Cooper tries to pass, and most importantly, not falling for his tricks.

Dr. Chet and Lucy went through several corridors and descended several stairs until they reached a hallway. Chet said his goodbyes and let her go alone to the psychiatrist's cell.

She walked through a hostile corridor, where several deranged killers lived, a few cells before reaching Cooper Howard's.

Suddenly, a strange figure rushes towards her in the second-to-last cell, their face grotesquely pressing against the bars as they hiss,

"I c-can smell your cunt."

Lucy shudders for a moment but quickly resumes walking down the dark hallway.

Gradually, she reaches Cooper Howard's cell. He starts to appear slowly. The cell is protected by a glass that seems difficult to break (she hopes that's true). Lucy stops at a comfortable distance and introduces herself.

"Dr. Howard, my name is Lucy MacLean. May I speak with you?"

Howard is leaning against his bunk, wearing white pajamas and holding an Italian Vogue magazine. A face long deprived of sunlight, almost faded, except for the bright eyes and the moist, red mouth. He gently rises, crossing over to stand before her: the gracious host. His voice is cultured and soft.

"Good Morning," he said, with a warm smile.

LUCY: "I want to ask for your help with a questionnaire."

DR. HOWARD: You're one of Davey's, I presume.

LUCY: Yes, I am.

DR. HOWARD: May I see your credentials?

Lucy is surprised but takes her ID card out of her bag and shows it to him for inspection. He smiles gently.

DR. HOWARD: Closer, please... closer.

She complies each time, trying to hide her fear. Dr. Howard's nostrils flare as he gently, like an animal, tests the air. Then he smiles, looking at her card.

"Agent MacLean. Please, have a seat."

She sits on the folding metal chair. He politely waits until she settles, then takes a seat and gazes at her with delight.

DR. HOWARD: Now, then. What did Hueys say to you?

(She is intrigued) "Multiple Hueys," in the next cell. He hissed at you. What did he say?

LUCY: He said, "I can smell your cunt."

DR. HOWARD: I see. I myself cannot. You use Evyan skin cream and sometimes wear L'Air du Temps, but not today. You brought your best handbag, didn't you?

"Yes."

A pause, then Lucy takes the questionnaire out of her briefcase.

LUCY: Dr. Howard, please consider--

DR. HOWARD: No, no, no. You were doing well, Sweetheart. You were polite and receptive to courtesy, established trust with the embarrassing truth about Hueys, and now this...

"I'm just asking you to take a look at it, doctor."

She hands him the questionnaire on the sliding food tray. He stands up, looks at it, flipping through a page or two dismissively.

DR. HOWARD: Oh, Sweetie... do you think you can dissect me with this little blunt tool?

"No. I just hoped for your expertise."

Suddenly, he throws the tray back at her with a metallic CLANG. It startles her. His voice continues to be a pleasant purr.

DR. HOWARD: You're so ambitious, aren't you...? Do you know how you come across to me, with your fancy handbag and cheap shoes? You look like a hick. A well-groomed, restless hick, with a taste... Good nutrition has given you some bones, but you're not more than a generation away from poor white trash, Agent MacLean...? That accent you tried so desperately to shed from pure West Virginia.

Each of his words hits her like a small, precise dart.

"You see a lot, Dr. Howard. But are you strong enough to point that powerful perception towards yourself? How about this...? Look at yourself and write the truth."

(She throws the tray back at him) Or maybe you're just afraid.

DR. HOWARD: You're tough, aren't you?

DR. HOWARD: Well, you're far from ordinary, Lucy MacLean. All you have is the fear of it.

Now, please excuse me. Good day.

LUCY: And the questionnaire...?

DR. HOWARD: Once, a census taker tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. Go back to school, little MacLean.

He takes a step back and then returns to his bed, becoming still and distant like a statue. Frustrated, Lucy hesitates, finally puts her bag on her shoulder, and walks away, leaving the questionnaire on the tray. But after just a few steps, as she passes by Hueys' cell, she sees that creature in his bars again, hissing at her.

HUEYS: I bit my wrist to make it bleeeddd!

S-see how it bleeedddss?

The dark figure suddenly throws the palm of his hand towards her, and it splatters on her face and neck, not with blood, but with pale droplets of semen. She lets out a small cry, touching her fingers to the wetness. Stunned, almost in tears, she forces herself to straighten up and move forward, searching for a tissue. From behind her, Dr. Howard shouts, very agitated.

"Agent MacLean... Agent MacLean!"

Lucy slows down, stops. She trembles but makes the difficult choice to turn around, go back, stand in front of someone again.

Dr. Howard, who is trembling with anger. For a moment, his face opens up, and we catch a glimpse of hell itself. Then he composes himself again.

"The discourtesy is unimaginably ugly to me."

Lucy: "So please, take this test for me."

"No. But I will make you happy... Lucy MacLean."

"What is this, Dr. Howard?"

Before Cooper can say anything, the guards flood the room to separate Lucy from the glass.

"Approach that glass, and your visitation authorization will be revoked, Agent MacLean."

Lucy storms out through the doors of the sanatorium, and just as she arrived, she leaves, without answers. She decides she will drive to her hotel room where she intends to sleep for the next few hours.

But instead, she spends the rest of the night thinking about Cooper Howard.

[misslaevna]

Hello!!! Can I request a scenario where reader cheats on character. And they physically/emotionally harm reader. Then it all turns out to be a set up. So reader was forced to 'cheat' or something bad would've happened.

Characters:Fyodor,Chuuya and dazai.

Please feel free to add anymore characters!

Please and thank you!

𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝓈?

a/n: I hope I interpreted this right, hope you'll enjoy it! ♡ characters: Fyodor, Chuuya, Dazai trigger warning: physical and emotional abuse - proceed with caution masterlist & requesting

Fyodor

It felt so cold.

Not that the room’s temperature was low in particular, in fact - it was fairly warm, and the fireplace crackling filled the space with both visual and auditory ambiance. 

But that knife against your throat made you freeze in the chair you were sitting on.

You felt the blade firmly being pressed against your skin, while a hand forced your chin up, making Fyodor’s glimmering, violet eyes unable to avoid.

He let out a soft chuckle while he softly tilted his head to the side, as if he’s not even seeing you as a human, let alone his significant other - more like livestock he’s examining. Something worthless, something faulty, an imperfect product.

‘So how long were you planning on waiting to tell me?’ he asked, so casually, so lightheartedly, as he pressed the knife a little more into your skin - it stung you, it made you almost choke on the lump in your throat, however, blood wasn’t drawn… yet.

You knew exactly what he’s talking about. For a moment, you wondered; does he know that if you didn’t go along with what that man wanted, he wouldn’t be possessing the confidential files on Europe’s top ability users? Let alone the documents - had you not given yourself to that other guy, you would’ve risked so much more. You would’ve risked Fyodor’s whereabouts, the mission, the information, even your own life - although that was the thing you cared the least about.

‘Fyodor, I… had… to…’ you mumbled. You tried to speak up as much as you could, to hide your shaky voice and mask the actual terror you’re feeling right now. 

No matter how close you were with Fyodor, deep down, he still scared you - he always did. 

‘It was… the… the only way….’ you forced the words out of your mouth.

Fyodor shook his head, clicking his tongue, ‘You sinned, my little mouse.’ 

His piercing, violet gaze felt like a hundred needles stinging into your eyes - you could swear his eyes stung even more than the knife he was pressing to your neck. His violence filled eyes met with your terrified ones as tears slowly started to roll down your face. 

‘Had you taken my guidance, this would not have happened.’ he said in a calm voice, referring to your little incident before you headed out to gather information - more specifically, that you did not consult him beforehand. 

In your mind, you forged the perfect plan, you had it figured out to the smallest detail - or so you have thought. In hindsight, all you wanted was to just stop yourself from even heading out and let Fyodor handle it.

Fyodor wasn’t saying anything. He was just staring at you, soaking in the sight of you crying vulnerably, and staring up to him - not that you had the choice to look somewhere else. Your suffering to him was what water to someone wandering the desert for days to no end - and Fyodor was very thirsty.

He chuckled in amusement - you knew that chuckle way too well. 

Your tears heavily blurred your vision, but still, the smirk on Fyodor’s face was crystal clear. 

After moments which seemed like forever, he leaned down to you, now his eyes at an even level with yours.

You let out a small whimper in fear. 

He finally opened his mouth, not raising his voice above the level of a faint whisper.

‘Repent.’

Chuuya

You groaned in pain, raising a hand to a spot on your head that pounded like it’s about to explode. You noticed pretty soon that your hand and arm is giving you trouble as well - with every little movement, pain shot through your entire body, making it unbearably painful to move. 

Your senses were still a bit dull, but you were certain you’re hearing a familiar voice sobbing not far from you. 

You fixed your eyes on the man sitting on the couch - with one shaky hand he was holding a phone, and with another he was gripping his hat so tight that it was a miracle he didn’t tear it apart. 

You tried to let go of the wall and make your way over Chuuya, however that only resulted in you falling down on your knees again - you were aching with such a deep, piercing pain both physically and mentally that it felt more like a boulder pushing you down on the floor, making it impossible for you to get up once again.

You remembered a lot of yelling and screaming, and a lamp shuttering on the floor. Books flying everywhere, then a large thud, and then everything going blurry, and then well… you regaining consciousness with an unbearable, sharp pain.

The soft thud you made when you fell back to your knees drew Chuuya’s attention to you. 

‘Y/n? Y/n?! Are you okay? Are you hurt?! Fuck. Oh my god. Fuck!’ Chuuya yelled, while he was next to you in an instant.

You carelessly raised your shoulders. You felt so humiliated. 

‘What’s that?’ you asked silently, eyeing the phone in Chuuya’s hand - from what you could make out, it was an incredibly long paragraph of text, from no other than Dazai.

‘... he told me everything.’ he muttered, staring at the ground. 

‘Everything?’

Chuuya nodded.

‘Yeah. He walked me through what happened last night when he ran into you. He… said the same thing as you did. About that dickhead trying to get it with you. And if he doesn’t kiss you in front of him, god knows what could’ve happened…’

You stared at Chuuya’s deep, teary blue eyes - even with little to no strength, you tried to empathize with him, you tried to feel the pain he was going though; but yours was much greater to allow you to do that.

‘Y/n, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you, I-...’ Chuuya stuttered. The consequences of his actions hit him like lightning when he received the text message from Dazai reassuring him that there’s nothing between you and him and you love Chuuya and Chuuya only - Chuuya’s temper got the better of him.

He carefully placed his hands around you, paying special attention to your bruises, the blue and purple marks his violence left on you. 

‘I-I’ll take care of you baby. I… Jesus fucking Christ…’ he muttered, trying to help you to get up.

You let yourself be pulled up from the ground and be guided to the bathroom to get yourself cleaned by a sobbing, shaking Chuuya.

The ache in your body felt a bit better by now, although with difficulty, you could move around a little - but the feelings didn’t seem to want to return just yet to you.

As if the moment he slammed you to the wall, all your sadness, anger, frustration and hatred just evaporated, and there’s nothing left but an empty shell of something you used to be.

Dazai

It’s day 4 of no contact with your boyfriend. 

If looks could set a phone on fire, yours would’ve definitely made yours go up in flames - you’ve been practically staring at it, anticipating the moment when it’s finally gonna buzz with a notification from Dazai. He should be contacting you soon, shouldn’t he?

He did say he will be back - why would he lie to you? He just said he needs a little time and it’s going to be okay. 

At that point, you couldn’t decide which is more unbearable: the knot in your stomach, the lump in your throat, or your thoughts which were eating your sanity away piece by piece.

He didn’t say that it’s over, none of you established that this would be the end of your relationship, so he’s still your boyfriend, right? He’s still your lovely, caring Dazai, isn’t he? He still loves you… he must still love you, or he would’ve said if it was otherwise…

… wouldn’t he?

That night kept replaying in your head over and over.

That night where you pressed your lips onto someone else’s. 

Your consciousness started tearing you apart as soon as it happened - you didn’t do it because you wanted to be unfaithful, you never meant to dishonor your relationship and most of all, Dazai. But what else could you have done? 

You tried to ignore the blackmail for months, until… you just couldn’t. Until he actually threatened to expose Dazai’s dark past relating to the mafia. You had no choice but to give in, one meetup and it would be over and you could go back to how everything was before, without all the anxiety and paranoia.

Your breathing was a mess; you were laying in bed, trying to at least breathe in a little oxygen so you wouldn’t pass out from bawling your eyes out. You tightened your grip around one of Dazai’s shirts, lifting it to your nose, trying to take in some of his smell, or at least what was left on it on that piece of clothing. 

It wasn’t one of those crying sessions where your emotions flowed out and eventually you were left relieved; it was the kind of crying where no sound left your mouth, where only tears rolled down your face while it felt like with every messy breath, you exhale a fragment of your very soul. 

Suddenly, your phone started buzzing; you hastily checked who could be calling you now, in the middle of the night. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw that it was Dazai finally reaching out to you. You took a deep breath as a last resort to regulate your breathing and to gather yourself before you answered.

‘Honey?’ you asked, with your heart beating in your throat.

Silence.

‘D-Dazai?’ you asked again after he didn’t say anything for a minute. Instead of feeling scared, worry started to creep its way into your mind.

‘Sorry, I’m here, y/n.’ he said in the most casual tone, as if he was just calling you on a regular afternoon to check up on you. 

Suddenly, you heard another voice from the phone - one you couldn’t recognise, one that felt like a huge knife being struck into your heart.

‘Could you make that call a bit later?’

It was a voice of a woman.

‘Where are you…?’ you muttered, trying to keep your voice as stable as you could - unsuccessfully. 

‘Sorry, sorry. I’ll be hanging up.’ Dazai apologized - but not to you. 

‘I’ll be in touch later, y/n. Good night.’ he said, this time finally to you.

‘No, no Dazai, wai-’

Before you could finish, he hung up.

His suspicious phone call left you even more scarred, even more damaged than before - you almost wished he never called at all, that you would rather he just disappeared and never talked to you again. 

Your silent sobs, as if a bomb, exploded into you wailing, screaming with tears into Dazai’s shirt, letting all your self-hatred be absorbed by the fabric that you were covering your face with. 

You couldn’t and you didn’t want to believe he was out with a woman, doing god knows what, god knows where - how could he do this? Was this revenge? Why did he call you in the first place?

Why was he torturing you like this?

Your whole body tensed up, from your flowing tears, you could barely see a thing - it was one of those moments where life just didn’t feel real, where it all felt like some horrifying nightmare you would love to wake up from. 

With all your anger, you threw your phone against the wall - breaking the screen to absolute pieces, but you just couldn’t care about that at that moment. 

At least he can’t contact you. At least you can’t know what he’s doing. 

You hugged your knees, trying to comfort yourself as much as you could, trying to convince yourself that this is still just a bad situation you two will endure and get over, and this is not the end; that he’s still your Dazai.

However, as much as you tried to suppress it, something in your gut was telling you the opposite.

And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you felt like that something in your gut is right.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

and a little remedy to heal the emotional damage:

Chuuya hugging you

Fyodor hugging you

[vellichorom]

I really really like this community and obviously the game, the tsp community does have some wonderful bunch.. but it feels.. I don't know, somewhat difficult to be there and share things with others (of course it's likely accidental or something, it's common to have closed bubbles), but it feels challenging, y'know? To find a place where you can share without feeling like a bother..

Have you ever had this struggle?

i've had VAGUELY similar issues, i think. i'm a very bold person ( i think that much is clear if you've talked to me for more than 5 minutes ) & try to worm my way into conversations & events because... well, sometimes that's how you get ahead & make friends & be apart of things you want to get in on. good intrusiveness, you know what i mean? but even i envy / have envied others with their evident & inevitable cliques & circles - in fandoms & otherwise, the closeness they have with people I'D love to be close to or doing things i'd love to be apart of. nothing wrong with envy, & nothing wrong with cliques & circles - so long as both parties aren't antagonizing the other, of course. but i absolutely understand that, & realize it's Way harder at times to try & get involved in anything when you See there are others already involved in their own thing.

but, you know !!! that shouldn't stop you from trying to contribute anyway! when it comes to public fandoms & servers & chats, it's NOT dominated by any one person or group, no matter if there's popular figures in it or not.

I'M a relatively popular figure in the TSP community(?) i GUESS??? god only knows why, but if you hesitated to post anything because you were worried about ME & my friends for whatever reason... well that'd be ridiculous, i say as lightheartedly as possible. our opinions as " figureheads " do Not matter & GOD don't let us who just happened to get lucky intimidate you any. we're all just random nothingburger motherfuckers who wanna post about what we like JUST the same as you, i promise.

& putting yourself out there regardless of your fears is how you garner traction, make friends, get to be apart of the things you like, etc! it's no bother! none of us are special & none of us are unworthy of enjoying the things we enjoy. so the best advice i can give to combat this tricky issue is SIMPLY do it, go forward, reach out, throw yourself into it & do it all anyway. do it scared! hesitating will Only hinder you & keep you from what you want, & unfortunately, there likely won't be anyone to invite you in if they simply don't Know who you are as a creator or person.

SO GO GET LOUD! go part the clouds !!! you have NOTHING to lose by making yourself known & heard & DOING IT ANYWAY!

& i hope in doing so, you can find a comfortable spot to get cozy in & interact with others or make some friends, & friends in those you admire too!

&... god willing i didn't Entirely misconstrue the issue in this message, but nevertheless! i hope it gets ( or has gotten ) better for you since you sent me this;

[niccichi]

LukeJamie Headcanons 🌟🍶

It's 3:34 AM and I can't sleep, here's some headcanons I have for these losers <3 Putting under the cut so I don't clog up dashes

Jamie knows how to cook, it came with living with his grandmother in the middle of nowhere and idolizing Yun and Yang, who own a restaurant. Luke can make basic things, but ask him to make anything more and it's a disaster guaranteed. Jamie never admits it but he loves cooking food for Luke because it's a subtle, wordless way for him to show his love.

Jamie's love language is giving acts of service and receiving words of affection. Luke's love language is giving quality time and receiving gifts.

Luke's apartment is a mess, usually placing things wherever it's convenient and forgets to do his chores sometimes. Jamie's surprisingly the opposite, keeping things organized and tidy. Cleanliness was practically ingrained in his brain because his grandmother was a huge on keeping things clean. When they start living together, Luke does try to make an effort to keep things organized because he knows it bothers Jamie.

Jamie's a cat person while Luke's a dog person. They always have petty arguments about this.

Luke's usually the big spoon while Jamie's the little spoon but that's because their height difference makes it easy (and Jamie doesn't like to admit it but he does like being held in Luke's arms). However, if Luke's having a bad day, Jamie would be the big spoon to comfort him.

Jamie always steals Luke's clothes. Luke has no say in what clothes get stolen, they just disappear from his closet. He would lightheartedly complain about it but he does love seeing Jamie wear his clothes - it makes him feel all warm inside. Jamie does think Luke's clothes are ugly, but he has to admit that they're pretty comfy to wear. Luke would steal Jamie's clothes if 1) they weren't too small for him and 2) if Jamie owned anything else other than primarily crop tops.

Luke LOVES using pet names. He mostly uses 'babe,' but he'll use just about any pet name ever, including nicknames (like 'Jay'). Jamie isn't big on using pet names, but there was this one time where he called Luke a term of endearment in Cantonese and refused to translate it for him. They mostly use insults as terms of endearment though - for Luke it's 'pretty boy' and Jamie uses 'meathead,' 'dummy,' and 'dork.'

Jamie cannot drive for his life, so if they ever have to drive anywhere, Luke is always designated driver.

Luke loves PDA - he'll take any opportunity to hold Jamie's hand, wrap his arm around Jamie's shoulder or waist, or kiss his cheek. Jamie, surprisingly, is reserved when it comes to public affection. He prefers keeping intimacy private and always gets flustered when Luke starts getting really affectionate in public. Luke gets a kick out of it and always teases him about it.

Neither of them are really overprotective over the other, as they trust each other to be able to protect themselves and navigate Metro City on their own. However, Luke does get worried about Jamie sometimes, as he's much more reckless and he has a little fear of something happening to him that can't be controlled, fueled by the loss of his father and the Nayshall incident. It doesn't help that Jamie doesn't really value his own life very much either - it's residual from his neglectful parents and growing up delinquent.

One time Jamie came home extremely bruised and beaten up during a rough patrol and Luke became upset seeing his boyfriend so badly hurt. Jamie was initially confused, since he was still alive and well, and it takes him a long time to understand that Luke genuinely does care about his wellbeing and if something did happen to him it would tear Luke apart. He starts being more careful after that incident - if not for himself, then for Luke.

[pig-demon]

Undernovela after 6 years

Today on stream someone kind lightheartedly mentioned my old Undertale AU Undernovela, and I was so surprised, i became very flustered. !!!

It was hard to get all the right words out, and I keep thinking I didn't say enough. so here's some ramblies on the blog, because this IS a blog after all.

So, if you're not aware, I used to have an AU for undertale that was basically "what if the story, but it was dramatic like a hispanic novela." Because if you're still familiar with my art over in @pigdemonart you know that I still obsess over making art inspired by my upbringing and culture.

However, Undernovela was a short-lived project. On stream I told the story of why I stopped drawing for the AU and why I pretty much disconnected from it and the fandom.

I told the story like I usually do, and explained how at the time I became really bitter with how the fandom treated me and the story. I was a Hispanic person just trying to have fun with this goofy concept, making a story purely for other Latinos.

I think whenever I reminisced on 2016 or trusted someone enough to talk about this, I focused heavily on the negatives.

Its hard for me not to think of that time as a negative memory -- at the time I was battling depression and my relationship with my art really suffered for it. And the criticism I would get for the comic I was making, be it justified or not, weighed heavier than the positive ones.

It was also one of my first time getting online attention, and seeing notes fluctuate put a damper on my mood even worse. Not to mention, I struggled with how a lot of ignore white Americans wanted to join in on the "joke," and the nuances that were obvious to people who watched novelas all their life, were lost on them. I try not to hold contempt for those people, as most of us were in our early to late teens in Undertale at that time. But I hated to think I was a gateway to them being openly racy against my own community. Who knows?

Regardless, in spite of all that, I think I'm doing those memories a disservice by thinking of it ONLY so pitifully. It was also a very precious time -- it was my first time making comics consistently, it was the first time so many other Latinamericans across North/South America and the Caribbean reached out to me online. I felt understood, and part of a niche community within a community. Undertale Fandom was so immense, I feared the pressure to perform, but being a much smaller AU really made it feel safer. I felt creative and inspired and happy to be Latino, and that is a good precious feeling.

So yes, while I did make the decision to disconnect, and I think that was for the better, I'm glad to be playing Undertale again with @bunnyangeltuber because I'm reminded what inspired me to make the AU in the first place and what continues to inspire me to create.

That being said, I will still cringe at some of the jokes I wrote. Like why were so many characters either mafioso or a mariachi guy?? beats past pig up with a shovel

[sleepingdeath-light]

being best friends hcs ; barnaby

requested by ; 🐝🍯 anon (09/05/23) [1/3]

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; barnaby b. beagle

outline ; “My welcome home obsession is creeping in too 😂 can I have some best friend headcanons of Barbaby, Wally, and Frank? They’re my blorbos. ❤️ if you can’t do all three I’d like just Barnaby! He’s so SILLY!! And I wanna be his best friend ✨

Also I claim bee anon!! 🐝🍯”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

being this guy’s best friend is asking for trouble in the most amazing way possible

he’s a jokester at heart and he’s always got a new trick up his sleeve whether it’s an adapted magic trick, a joke he’s brainstormed or a whole comedy routine he adapted on the fly

the key with him is to always expect the unexpected

prank calls are common and endearing — everything from ‘is your fridge running’ to using fake names to make you compliment yourself

he has a seemingly endless supply of whoopee cushions and other such joke items (like boxes filled with fake snakes and the like)

he has a unicycle; he cannot ride it for very long but he has one!

he can also juggle and he uses this ability for evil

like yes he’ll juggle pins and balls and such, but barnaby is also of significant stature and strength compared to basically everyone else

and what i’m trying to say is that he has at several points started juggling you and your neighbours

you, wally and julie are his preferred victims because none of you will get revenge on him

on a related note, he picks you up and tosses you around often — like if he wants your attention he’ll just pick you up and walk away with you hanging limply over his shoulder

this also includes him picking you up and letting you dangle whilst he hugs you

speaking of… he gives incredible hugs because he’s so large and soft — combined with his high body temperature basically makes him a living, all body hot water bottle combined with a pillow, so cuddles are absolutely top tier

he never uses your name and prefers to address you by a series of increasingly ridiculous nicknames that barely make sense

more often than not this means addressing you with random nouns — anything from ‘sofa bed’ to ‘new colour tv’ or something more normal-adjacent like ‘pebble’ or ‘mouse’

if he ever gets a bit much, just scratch behind his ears and he’ll mellow out significantly and just nod off next to you

he gets you both matching outfits — they’re all terribly goofy with mismatched patterns and colours, but it’s the thought that counts!

he has your handprint on his mailbox and you have his paw print on yours — it only makes sense since most of the mail you get comes from you both

piggyback rides are definitely common, but he also likes to take the mick by running like a madman when you’re up there, so I hope you’ve got a good grip

(you know he’d never really let you fall but the fear is still there)

he definitely makes fun of you lightheartedly because he’s so much taller than you (being 8ft tall and all) — he’ll deliberately put things higher than you can reach to make sure you have to ask for help (which leads to even more jokes)

will not tolerate any negative talk about you, especially by yourself, and will lightly scold you with a huff and a ‘that’s my best friend you’re talking about, you know’

if you’re ticklish he’ll take full advantage of this with random tickle attacks

(though you can easily turn the tables by jabbing him in the ribs)

terrible with dates but he has an excellent memory for the things you love and have expressed a desire to own — which makes gift buying easy but gift giving pretty difficult to arrange

all in all he prefers to keep things lighthearted and does what he can to keep you smiling and laughing — as he does for everyone in his life because that’s just the type of guy he is

[retaurd]

hey id love your take on something that feels uncomfortable? my boyfriend and i have been together for a while (3+ years) and he is a provider and protector, he recently became the sole breadwinner as i am dealing with health stuff and school, i bake and cook, we talk about how he will support me when kids are in the picture... in a lot of ways we are falling into more traditional gender roles in our relationship and i really like it? im really attracted to him when he comes home from work and i rub his shoulders and give him dinner... the thing is, he is built very slim. like he doesnt visually look masculine. he is quite feminine looking. i try to convince him not to shave, but really the thing is that he is not built like a strong man. is there a way do you think that i can subtly let him know that that is what i want without making him feel bad about himself? like how do i encourage him to bulk up, or is that terrible of me to even want to?

hi anon! nothing wrong with finding something that works for you and makes you feel secure, in reference to you adopting a more traditional setup for your relationship. if that's what works for yall, that's what works. sounds like you guys have a happy, equal partnership to me

as for your main issue, i went and asked my own bf for you and he said this:

i agree! and i think there's ways to say things constructively like whenever i'm interested in my guy doing anything like not shaving for example i literally just go "GAWDDD DAYUMB BABE you'd look so sexy with whiskers". or "if you wore this shirt i would maul you looney tunes dustcloud-fight style and u would have to buy another one". you've been together 3 years you know how to talk to him lightheartedly ok you don't have to use my insane unhinged examples

i understand your fear ok you don't want to hurt him but the idea of him having big muscles and a hearty beard is very attractive, virility and all that, very healthy imo, sounds to me like you have unga bunga want baby brain and that's influencing your desire as well

i will say though, please just remind him you love him either way and find him attractive either way so he isn't left thinking you find him unappealing as he is right now. that would hurt anyone's heart i think.

you could also just feed him tons of meat and pie and see what happens. men love these things anyway......

edit: anon i'm still thinking on this, something doesn't feel right about it. like... idk... wanting his whole body type and appearance to change... i'll get back to you.

[ratzillaeatsdick]

a look at poison by wes anderson. 

Poison is by far my favorite of the four short film adaptations Wes Anderson has put out of Roald Dahl's short stories. Poison tells the story of Harry Pope, a white British soldier who fears that a krait, a poisonous snake, has crawled under his covers and is poised to bite him. He is helped by Timber Woods, an Indian-British soldier, and Dr. Ganderbai, a local Indian doctor. The film takes place at Woods’s house, where Harry Pope is staying, in British-ruled India. The film, like the other stories in the Dahl collection, is shot like a play, with stunning set work and stagehands at the ready to help with props. 

The basic story, if you haven’t watched the film yet (which you should), is this: Woods drives home and finds Harry Pope laying in bed very, very still. Pope tells him that while he was reading in bed, he saw a krait crawl under the covers and fall asleep on his stomach. He has been lying still and silently since then. At first, Woods proposes that he, armed with a knife, pull back the cover, brush off the snake, and cut the snake and suck out any poison himself. Pope is scornful toward the idea, calling Woods an idiot, and tells him to call for a doctor. Woods calls Dr. Ganderbai, who makes his way over quickly. He first administers some serum to Pope, so that if he is bitten he (maybe) will be safe regardless. After debating with himself outside of the room, he decides to soak the mattress in chloroform, hopefully sedating the krait and saving Harry Pope. Dr. Ganderbai painstakingly funnels the chloroform to the mattress. For 15 minutes, the trio wait in silence, with Dr. Ganderbai staring furiously at Pope, after he has a loud outburst. The smell of the chloroform reminds Woods of an operation he went through, which left a scar on his forehead. Finally, Dr. Ganderbai and Woods prepare to lower the cover and remove the krait. When the cover is removed, the krait is not there. Dr. Ganderbai remarks that the krait could be anywhere, even up the pajama leg. At this, Pope, who has been growing increasingly twitchy, jumps up on the bed and moves furiously. When he does not die of snake bite, the room goes quiet. The camera work at this point has gone shaky, and the lighting flickers while a heartbeat plays in the background of the scene. Dr. Ganderbai teases, lightheartedly, that perhaps Pope dreamt up the snake. Snake hissing is now audible. Pope does not take the teasing jokingly however and is offended. He explodes at Dr. Ganderbai, yelling abusive, racially motivated insults. When Dr. Ganderbai breaks a chair and storms out the room, the lighting stabilizes, as does the camerawork, and silence permeates the set. Woods follows Dr. Ganderbai out the house and tells him that Pope doesn’t know what he’s talking about and that he (Dr. Ganderbai) saved Pope’s life. Dr. Ganderbai says, “No, I didn’t.” Woods tells him that Pope owes him his life. Dr. Ganderbai says “No, he doesn’t.” Woods apologizes. Dr. Ganderbai looks at Woods and says, “You can’t be.” With that, the film is over. 

If you still haven’t watched the short film, then go do that. My summary does not do it justice. 

This story is run in part by the three characters and the subtext in all of their interactions. Harry Pope is a white, British soldier. Timber Woods is an Indian-British soldier. Dr. Ganderbai is Indian and notably an outsider to the British military. Harry Pope and Timber Woods live on a British Jute and Woods is dressed in a British military outfit. At the beginning, the power hierarchy is not apparent. After all, Pope is immobilized in bed and cannot do anything to aggravate the krait, leaving him quiet and subdued up until the last minutes of the film. However, he is still expressive enough with Woods noting, “The expression was in the eyes and around the corners of the mouth, as you can see.” He manages to be derisive in his interactions with the two men, as is apparent when he calls Woods an idiot and snaps at Dr. Ganderbai: “Get on with it!” His clothing are a pair of light blue pajamas, simple at first glance, though Woods notes that he has a fly button made of mother-of-pearl. Woods remarks that he has never had a fly button, let alone a mother-of-pearl button. This is another difference between the two soldiers, their wealth. However, even in these interactions, Dr. Ganderbai and Woods treat him with kindness and patience. Everything that he is doing is attributed to the stress that the stillness is putting him under, with Dr. Ganderbai calling his behavior understandable up until this point. 

Dr. Ganderbai approaches the situation with kindness and urgency. He takes every care to reassure Pope that he is in safe hands throughout the crisis. He only starts to lose his patience when Pope also loses his nerve. After Pope’s second outburst (“I can hear him!”), he stares at him, with Woods thinking that he is probably thinking something along the lines of this: “Don’t move, don’t speak! Damn you, you’re not spoiling this now, you hear me?” Even in his anger, he is silent and considerate of the life-threatening situation at hand. 

Woods, the narrator of the whole story, is also considerate and kind. His first scene shows him turning the headlights of his car off immediately, so as not to disturb the possibly sleeping Harry Pope. He takes his shoes off (in his own house), following Pope’s peculiar, distressed orders. He is prepared to literally suck venom out of Pope’s stomach and even agrees with Pope’s assessment that he is an idiot for not thinking of calling a doctor sooner. He is thoughtful of Pope, despite the discomfort brought upon him by the whole situation, be that by Pope’s twitching and his derisive tone (“I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the way he talked either.”), or the smell of chloroform, which seems to remind him of an injury he incurred, possibly by explosion (this is entirely surmised through choice of words and is not definitive). Woods is only non-complacent when Pope does the inexcusable, though even afterwards he apologizes for Pope. 

The playing field, which had Pope more or less at the bottom the entire time, switches the minute Pope is offended at Dr. Ganderbai’s joke. It is now that race bulldozes its way into the story. Pope is a white soldier belittling an Indian doctor who has just taken painstaking measures to save his life. These two represent the two opposite ends of the tense atmosphere that was all of British-ruled India. Pope’s twitchiness, everpresent while he was arrested by the snake, explodes via the words every white supremacist has felt when confronted with somebody of a “lesser” race. The intricacies are most beautifully conveyed via subtext in the ending, which apparently has confused other viewers of the film. The dialogue goes something like this: 

“You saved his life.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I- I mean, you might’ve- He owes you his life, I mean, he owes you his life, doctor.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Beat.

“I’m sorry.”

“You can’t be.”

Dr. Ganderbai refuting that Pope owes him his life, isn’t a show of humility. It’s the caste systems reasserting itself. Dr. Ganderbai knows that there is no way that Harry Pope, a white soldier, owes anything, let alone his life to an Indian. And when Dr. Ganderbai tells Timber Woods that he cannot be sorry, it is not because he thinks that Woods should not apologize on Pope’s behalf, it is because Woods literally cannot be sorry or remorseful. He is a part of the system, though he may not have the same power as Harry Pope. Timber Woods, after all, is a British soldier. He wears the British uniform and lives in a British jute. How can he be sorry, when he wears the uniform of the institution that created the circumstances where Dr. Ganderbai can be treated like that? 

The other driving force of the story, as is the case in any Wes Anderson film, is the camera work and editing. It is most evident in the climax. The minute Harry Pope jumps on his bed, the camera goes shaky-hand and the lighting flickers. A heartbeat plays throughout the following scene. Up until this point, the camera has been steady and smooth, emphasizing the play-like feeling the story holds. When the fourth-wall is broken, it reminds the audience that this is a play, or it should be treated like one. The shift happens right before Dr. Ganderbai enters Pope’s room to administer chloroform. The last look he gives is one that is severe, a sign of the tense scene to follow. When Woods interprets Dr. Ganderbai’s silence, that is also a moment where the fourth wall is broken. Dr. Ganderbai steps forward and a spotlight is shown on him. We are still in a play element. With the shaky camera work, the breaks are more personal and feel more like a call for help or affirmation that they (Woods and Dr. Ganderbai) are not the only ones seeing this. It is also in the context of the shaky camera that the snake is most “visible.” A rattling noise plays in the underscore of the entire scene. Right before Pope opens his mouth to start his rant, a snapping sound is heard, like a snake snapping its mouth closed. The feeling of suspense, of danger, is helped by Woods whispering again, as though the snake has reappeared. The heartbeat goes unsteady and varies in volume and rhythm. When Dr. Ganderbai leaves the room and Woods pulls a knife on Pope to get him to shut up, the heartbeat stops, as if dead. The lighting evens out and we go back to the steady camerawork. The shaky hand makes the moment, the crucial climax, feel real and immerses the audience even further. The last break is when Woods makes eye contact with the camera after Dr. Ganderbai tells him he cannot be sorry, with a sort of somber look. Finally, one last little touch is the book that Harry Pope is reading, The Golden Lotus. Though I personally have never read it, it is a story about two women who are fighting for prestige in their clan, which is declining in power. A fitting story for a British man to be reading, I think.

Poison is a masterclass in subtext and should be required viewing for anybody trying to be a visual storyteller. It is my favorite of the short films released and every time I think of it and the story it tells, I cry. It won’t be the most relatable for any caucasian viewers, but as somebody who has been micro aggressed in my workplace more times than I can count, with seemingly no motivation, I don’t care. It’s brilliant.