#basil (squish)

[hummingjay]

*crashes into your inbox at mach 6, several kasuars and fears fall out of my pockets and spill on the floor*

HELLO JAY!!! I come bearing gifts >:)))

RAHHH I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT THEM.... I am working on the fear cadre and i just, think of them finding and adopting a Kasuar into their group and trying to help her and keep her alive but they know between a Kasuar's lifespan and intense radiation that it's inevitable how this will end... but they'll try and make her happy while they can </3 Anyway i hope you like these :3, and i hope i drew kassie right hshskchidhsivd Have a good day/night!! :D <33

BASIL BASIL BASIL ARRRRRHGHGHHGJHGEJHGRJHHJGHJGJH I'M SCREAMING YELLING AGRJEHGEGRJEGRHEJJHJHJHJHJHERREERRRRR I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY BASIL RAGH

THIS IS SO AGHGHGHHH SO BLOODY WONDERFUL AHG

they're so cuuuuuuuute together goshhhh lookit look how much bigger she is in her suit gotta be gentle not to squash her

[dreamybasil]

"Hmm... You look.. very different from my Basil..."

"Eh- Whatever, you still look cool! With that eyepatch and stuff!-"

"Oh! Woah, I- Uh.. I'm flattered..?"

"And you're so.. ... Pink, I guess? It really fits you, and the little flowers in your hair too. They match your personality. But I have a small question which could be obvious.. Who are you? You really remind me of someone."

[larz-barz]

@aceofstars0 @aceofstars0 @aceofstars0 @aceofstars0

I FINISHED ITTTTTT AAAAAHHHHHH THEY’RE SO CUTEEE

AND YES, MILO DID DYE PART OF HER HAIR TO MATCH BASIL’S HEHEHEHEHE

[dyesprout0ysphoria]

June Pride Month, I should be doing work but I'll just quickly post this because Sunflower

This is actually the Alternate Sunflower type of thing I was talking about in another post! Scattering Sunflower Is silly to me

They're also holding hands as they venture throughout Blackspace 2 👍

[cherryozyi]

I remembered Pod didn't like pickles and immediately started drawing

[baker-of-bread]

YES YES OMG

IT’S HIM OMG HE’S BEAUTIFUL I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I JUST WANNA SQUISH HIM

AHHHHHH

[piastappies]

𝜗𝜚 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝜗𝜚

⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x wife!leclerc!reader

⋆ summary. christmas is never calm, when the piastris are involved, or one would think.

⋆ notes. another part of dad!oscar series 😁😁😁 its honestly one of my favorites ever. this is a small christmas fic, but i might write another part of christmas at the piastris 😁 not proofread (i will do that one day i promise)

BEFORE YOUR DAUGHTER WAS BORN, you and oscar never spent christmas together. it was pretty understandable, he went back to australia to see his family, while you ended up in monaco, spending the festive moments along your family and your brothers’ girlfriends. however, you’d always spend new year’s together — whether it was australia or monaco, no one could make you leave each other’s side. nevertheless, as suspected, the problems started occurring as soon chloe’s second christmas came up.

her first christmas happened just after she was born, so there was really no conversation about going anywhere with a newborn baby, while pandemic was still going crazy. christmas in the following year was putting more and more stress on top of your shoulders. you barely seen your family all year, so the need to fly home was even stronger than ever, you couldn’t though. beside his dad, oscar hasn’t seen his family much either and asking him to go see yours for holidays seemed unfair, you were not the only one, who missed the warm embraces of their mothers.

“why don’t we all just come to your place, love?” nicole, oscar’s mum, suggested on one afternoon, making the tension in your shoulders loosen a bit. “there’s no point in stressing yourself out about flying with chloe, when we can just come to you.”

it almost seemed like a plan put together beforehand, because a few hours later your mum has called you, suggesting the exact same thing. even if it was a plan, you really appreciated trying to ease your nerves about christmas.

and it became a tradition, one you held dearly to your heart.

it’s been still a few days left till the twenty-fifth, so it was only nicole, who flew to monaco, her daughters would arrive near twenty-fourth to have a day to recharge. you were bundled up in a blanket, a small girl sitting on your lap, not wanting to be away from you as her tiny fists had tightened their grip on your shirt.

“i get puppy?” chloe asked, tipping her chin upwards to have a look at you before turning her head — so fast you thought it would snap in seconds — to look between your husband and his mom. “please, please puppy?” she repeated, jutting her bottom lip and flashed her brown eyes at oscar.

you raised an eyebrow at the aussie, awaiting his response. the possibility of him cracking and accepting your daughter’s pleas was high, considering that chloe had him wrapped around her little finger, or rather around her wrist like a leash she could tug on, and at first thought her dad would do whatever she wanted him to. his gaze shifted towards you as he let out a sigh, his heart breaking as he’s about to disappoint his only daughter.

“ah, squish, but you have a dog already, don’t you?” nicole started, catching her daughter’s attention. chloe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. she has a dog already? is he invisible? “basil and rosie are yours too, aren’t they?” she asked in a gentle tone, the four years old perking up at this revelation.

“i do!” she exclaimed happily, letting go of your shirt to clap her hands, a big beam creeping up on her lips. “basie and rosie!” she said, her head bobbing up and down ecstatically. “my doggies.”

“and leo.” you chimed in, gently rubbing your hand against chloe’s back. the mention of your brother’s daschmund made the beam falter. “you don’t like leo anymore, squish?” you asked, a bit taken aback at the sudden change.

a pout appeared on your daughter’s face, her tone slightly bashful as she tried to explain. “leo pee-ed on me.” oscar’s lips were pulled into a tight line as he tried to suppress a chuckle. “s’no funny!” she frowned at her dad’s antics.

“he was just excited to see you, baby.” you tried your best reasoning with your daughter. “leo’s still just a baby, you know? babies pee when they get excited, it means he reaaaally likes you.”

“daddy’s baby, too an’ he don’t pee on me.” she scrunched her nose, unmoved by your explanation. “daddy don’t like chloe?”

baby. that’s how you’ve been referring to oscar for as long as you could remember, making chloe think that her dad is as much of a baby as she is. in different circumstances, you’d just start laughing — some guys, your friends’ boyfriend or fathers, random people on the street, probably acted like babies towards their partners or maternal figures, but not your oscar. he was the eptiome of a great partner, friend, and a parent, despite being a bit messy and leaving socks on your bedroom floor a few times, if you wished for someone better, you’d still get your oscar, because there couldn’t be anyone better than him, not for you and your daughter.

“well… daddy loves you so, so much, squish.” he began coyly, kneeling in front of the couch, to brush his nose against chloe’s, as an act of affection. “but i’m not a doggie, am i?” he asked, and while your reasoning seemed completely off to chloe, she bought oscar’s within seconds.

“no, silly.” the four years old giggled, putting both of her hands on oscar’s cheeks, leaving a small, sloppy kiss on the tip of his nose. “you papa.” a beam stretched across her mouth. “no doggie.”

THE CHRISTMAS CAME QUICKLY, which you were profoundly content with. it was one of the rare moments, when you could spend the time with your entire family, both sides. there wasn’t enough words to describe the amount of love you held in your heart for oscar’s relatives. you spent lots of hours, talking to your in-laws on the phone, when you couldn’t see them in person. it was natural that you wanted them in your daughter’s life as much as possible.

usually, the apartment was as quiet as it could be with a preschooler, although with almost twenty people inside, it was a mess. a positive one, one you would cherish every time it happened. your mum chatting away with nicole, tim, and chris, your brothers engrossed in conversations with oscar, while you talked to alex, and oscar’s sisters as your soon to be sister-in-law played with your daughter on the carpet, leo sleeping on his usual spot on the couch.

when you all sat down to open gifts, chloe was no longer playing with charlotte as she occupied the spot on arthur’s lap, giggling quietly, when he tickled her once in a while just to pretend he didn’t as she tried to pat his hands away.

“i give gifts, too!” she suddenly spoke up, her voice filled with excitement, pointing to a dozen of tiny boxes standing neatly next to (or on top of) one another.

it was small figurines made out of modelling clay that your husband has bought for your daughter. it wasn’t much, but it made your daughter feel involved in the gift-giving tradition. of course, you helped her throughout the process, so the figurines wouldn’t be just colours mixed together with no shape.

“oh, mon étoile. did you make them yourself?” your mum asked, a warm smile stretching across her lips as she unpacked the tiny star made out of modelling clay. that’s what pascale always called chloe, étoile, which meant a star, because she was the brightest star in your mom’s universe.

chloe nodded proudly in response, puffing her chest as she unpacked arthur’s box for him. “‘s me!” she giggled in happiness, placing the figurine in her uncle’s hand. “now, you ‘ill ‘lways remember me!”

“i could never forget you, squish.” arthur whispered into her ear, though loud enough for you all to hear, making the girl laugh from the sensation of his face in such close proximity to her ear. “i’ll always have it with me, okay?”

in the end, everyone was enamoured with the small gifts made by your daughter, which made her feel super proud of herself. she got a few toys (that you’d previously accepted, because if you had one more loud toy, you’d shred yourself into pieces) and… a racing helmet.

“we are not doing a project piastri, or whatever you’d call that.” you announced, giving your older brother a judgemental look. was it a surprise that charles gifted your daughter a racing helmet? not really, as he’s been talking about taking chloe karting. “she’s four.”

“i was four, when i started too.” he argued, a bit playfully.

“look what that made you. crazy.” you shook your head, taking a glimpse of the mesmerised look in your daughter’s eyes. “she’s too small for a go-kart. you’d have to put velco strips on her back and the seat, so she wouldn’t fell out of the thing.”

“that’s doable.” the ferrari driver shrugged, as he helped chloe put on the purple helmet. “uncle charlie wouldn’t let his squishy face get hurt.” he cooed at the girl, making you roll your eyes in exasperation.

cheering and stressing over your husband’s career was a thing you could live with, but having both oscar, and your daughter racing and karting? your poor heart wouldn’t handle it.

“i drive like daddy soon?” the four years old in question said, her voice slightly muffled by the helmet. once again, she clapped her hands happily.

and somehow, after a nice meal and gift openings, you were stuck in a conversation with your brother about taking chloe karting, while she quietly asked one of your sisters in law what karting exactly was.

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Hello everyone, happy Wednesday, thank you to @tailsbeth-writes for the tag. I may have deviated and spun out 3 short lil fics in the last 24 hours, BUT, I am fully back on Angel Henry now, gonna try and finish that up before I have to go back to work <3

have a snippet of how things are progressing (under the cut because it's smutty)

-------

“That…” Henry visibly shuddered, his thighs squishing closer together as he watched Alex, “That’s very arousing, when you speak to me that way,” he admitted, “Your voice is…low, you sound hungry with need. And the way you say such filthy things to me, command me to do sexual acts-” “You know,” Alex closed his eyes exhaling, “I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but when you start talking to me like that, it makes me feel so fucking guilty. Like I’m corrupting a child or something.” “You’re not corrupting me,” the blond whispered, “Even now, I was watching the way your dick twitched in my palm, how it lubricates, the bead of arousal fluid; I find it very attractive.” Henry leaned in closer then, his tongue licking over the slit of the other man’s cock. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to make you feel guilty. Neither of us are sinning more than the other. I am only inexperienced,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the brunette’s tip, “Not unknowledgeable, and I do feel…very much desire for you carnally.” “Carnally?” the brunette laughed, shaking his head, his breathing shaking from the sensation of licks and kisses, “You desire me carnally?” he repeated, “Just say you wanna suck my dick, please.” “I want to suck your dick,” Henry nearly panted--------------

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yay TAG ROUND UP TIME (no obligation lovelies)

@taste-thewaste @henrysfox @mikibwrites @judasofsuburbia

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics @henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones @henfox @anti-homophobia-cheese

@redlipstickandglitter @eusuntgratie

@thesleepyskipper @onthewaytosomewhere @thighzp @lfg1986-2

@bitbybitwrites @midnight-soulless-system

+ literally anyone else; I love reading yall's stuff. <3

[ramlightly]

Been doodling in my sketchbook lately, it’s been good for the brain. Please enjoy Basil getting squished here.

[echantedtoon]

Upper Moon Househusbands: Gyutaro

(This is inspired by @rottencoreflesh101's Househusband Upper Moon posts. (Warnings: Their blog does contain NSFW elements and themes that not everyone may like or be comfortable with AND is only for 18+ folks. Just a heads up. But this WILL STAY Sfw.) I did link to the post in question down below. This is probably not gonna be very long and it's from the perspective of a female reader.

Househusband Upper Moons Concept- @rottencoreflesh101

Demon Slayer- Koyoharu Gotouge

Original Post:

Gyutaro's route is more modern au type.)

@six-eyed-samurai

Chop. Chop. Chop.

Went the sounds of a knife. Clever lifted high over his head only to be repeatedly slammed down onto the chopping block. Meat slicing and blood running from the flesh. A clatter of the knife sounded throughout the kitchen as boney hands clamped onto the cut portion-

"This beef needs more basil."

A voice grumbled out annoyed and pouting he'd forgotten about such an important ingredient for meatloaf. He knew he should've just made katsu curry tonight but noooo. He wanted to try this new recipe he found online instead. He was already starting to regret it from all the mess around him. ..and on him. Crap. This apron was a gift too. With a hiss of annoyance and a grip that threatened to squish the beef in his hands, the man ultimately dropped the uncooked food back into the pan and turned to wipe off his hands.

"Fuck this. I'm making meatballs instead."

But first he might as well clean up some of this mess first. It annoyed him more than the failed attempts of 'meatloaf' both left on the countertops and in the trash. A sink full of dishes was in his line of sight as he turned to wash off his hands only making him give pause before hissing even more annoyed. This day couldn't be any worse could it? His annoyance distracted him from noticing the click of the doorknob but not the creaking of the door opening which he snapped around to wide eyed. Oh no-

"Honey, I'm home!" A woman's voice called out before footsteps approached followed by the closing sounds of a door. "Honey!...Gyutaro?"

More footfalls were hand-

"DON'T COME IN THE KITCHEN!!"

They stopped and there was a pause until they approached again moving towards him, his shouting only sealing his fate.

"Are you ok in there?"

"IM FINE!! I-I'M JUST-..MAKING DINNER!! GO RELAX!!"

Closer and closer footsteps. "Are you alright? You sound mad."

"IM PERFECTLY FINE!"

"Are you sure? Because you-"

He froze as your figure stepped into the doorway leading into the kitchen. Your smile dropping into a stare at what stood before you. The kitchen...WAS A MESS. The table and nearby countertops were piled up with what looked like mini burnt bricks, random dishes, and black crumbs from the black bricks except for the middle of the table where freshly cut raw beef was sat on top of a giant wooden cutting board. The sink was piled up with even more random dishes and next to it the oven was left wide open. The air held a mix of different spices, cooked beef, and burnt food. An iPad was propped up on a clean part of the country and it played some kind of cooking show episode. And in the middle of it all was your tall husband. He looked like he'd seen a ghost with how he was staring at you wide eyed and the apron over his body covered in stains and....were those scorch marks?? He stood frozen with his hands half way under the running water of the sink, lavender soap bar in one hand. You both just stood there staring at each other for a long moment.

"So..I see you've been making dinner," you settled on carefully stepping into the kitchen.

"Uuuuuhhh.." Was all he managed to get out as he watched you step into the kitchen and looking around stopping on the nearest burnt loaf of.. meat?

You rose a brow. "So what are you making?" 

...He finally frowned turning back around to finish washing off his hands. "I TRIED to make meatloaf."

"Meatloaf?" 

"A western recipe I found online. Tried making it but apparently none of it wanted to work!" You waited patiently for him to finish washing his hands before drying them on his long apron scowling. "Last time I try anything like this!"

"You must've been pretty busy today." You mumbled taking a look at the leftover uncooked meat. "We're you going to try again?"

A hand turned off the annoying talk of the iPad. "Nah. Figured I'd just make meatballs or something since I already know how to do...But I can't do anything with this mess."

"I'll help you clean up." His eyes turned back to you as you grabbed the nearby trashcan and was already moving some of the burnt remains back into the bag. 

"You don't have to-"

"I want to. It'll be faster if we both just cleaned up. I'll cook too. That way you can have a break."

He stared at you before sighing. "M' sorry."

"It's perfectly fine. It's the thought that counts. Besides you always did look cute being so domestic."

He choked on air as you chuckled.

[r0tting-rat]

Happy Christmas!

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: None Words: 1900+ Au: Midnight Overture: Cotard's Delirium (by me) Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and you do the mistake of sleeping-in while in the same house as two very strict robots. As a result to your laziness, you are forced to help out one of your bitchy employers in the kitchen. (Sun-centric, Sun's name is Sonne)

The walls of the manor were quiet, despite it being Christmas Eve. No child was running through the halls, no shadow or whisper could be heard behind closed doors or seen peeking behind corners—the rooms were all empty of their usual inhabitants, for Moon had taken all the kids outside to play in the snow. You had woken up late that morning, groaning in pain as your back and arm muscles complained and screamed at you to relax, with no automaton to knock on your door or scream at you to get dressed and come down for breakfast. In fact, after sending a glance to the clock hanging on the wall next to the door, you realized that you had skipped the meal altogether. Did Sonne really let you sleep that long? Seeing the clock’s hands pointing at 10:35, you immediately jumped up to your feet, cursing under your breath as you hurried to get dressed before any of the two automata caught you slacking off, throwing on a random sweater you had found at the foot of your bed and attempting to slip inside a pair of jeans you had left laying on the floor next to the drawer. Sonne was going to kill you for being late—seriously this time. He didn’t like when people left him waiting.

“Sonne?” you began to call after finally leaving your room, searching your brain for a plausible excuse as to why you were still sleeping past 10 am while running down the hall. You almost jumped down the stairs leading to the second floor, turning right and expecting to find the automaton sitting in the living room, in front of the fire, like he liked to do on cold winter mornings like that one. “Sonne, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…!”

The automaton wasn’t there where you were used to find him; the fire was lit, the couches and comfy armchairs were surrounding it just like you had left them the night before, but no sun-themed robot was sitting on the one closest to the burning brazier with a soft blanket covering his shoulders and arms, complaining about the cold freezing his wires and locking his limbs in places. You looked, confused, outside the windows, expecting to see the large backyard covered in snow staring back at you, finding instead the three kids playing in the white coat of winter with their lunar guardian. Basil, the youngest, was trying to sneak up on Moon, as his older sisters Blanche and Annabel threw snowballs at the laughing automaton. Where else could Sonne be? Your second guess turned out to be the right one; the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards and drawers, dancing around the burning stoves and grilling pans like only someone who had cooked in the same house for 30 years could do.

Standing in a corner of the dining room, which opened on the left from the stairs, you hid from the automaton, squishing your body behind the white arch that separated the kitchen from the dining room. You listened to him working and let your body be surrounded by the enticing smells of his cooking, afraid to let your presence be known in case the robot was mad at you for being late. You were supposed to sweep the snow off the front yard that morning, but incredibly, you had messed up and slept in.

Peeking around the corner, into the bright kitchen, you let your curiosity conquer your mind and attemted to get a glimpse of what Sonne was cooking, daring to take a step forward when your eyes couldn’t see what was hiding inside those saucepans and bowls. 

The automaton was dressed in fine brown trousers and a cream-colored sweater, layered over a white button up which peeked up from under the collar, paired with his usual black dress shoes. A red apron hugged his front, closing tightly in a perfect knot around his extremely thin waist, but you could bet your head on the fact that no drop or stain would have been found on the red fabric, were you to go and check right in that moment. Your eyes wandered down, to the place where you often found them lingering, enchanted; to the ever-working robot’s hands, which moved with such grace and precision over the kitchen’s counter that you could barely understand what he was doing. Slim and long, the metallic brass-colored fingers looked delicate and kind under the bright lights of the room, but you had seen them lifting furniture and wood logs heavier than you in the past to know better and not be fooled by how gentle they might have looked at first sight. Sonne, in general, looked overall like a pretty delicate automaton, but that had never eased your fears and worries enough to allow you to relax in their presence.

“Would you come in and help me?” he asked, startling you and almost making you lose your balance as you leaned against the arch. You hadn’t expected him to see you so soon, turned around as he was, too! Did the robot have eyes behind his head? Sonne glanced over his shoulder, his pale blue optics fixing on you with all the intensity they always held, and you shivered on the spot. 

“So? You’re just going to stand there and do nothing as I cook supper for tonight?” Sonne asked you again, and just then you realized that he wasn’t mad at you for sleeping in, despite the usual cold expression on his face. “Cut some parsley for me, will you? Enough to fill that bowl over there.”

He pointed at an orange bowl sitting on the counter next to him, then he resumed stirring something with a wooden spoon inside the huge pot in front of him. Steam rose up from it, slightly fogging the small, circular glasses sitting on the slight edge of his nose. You were pretty sure that the glasses had been glued to his faceplate, because there was no way they could stay still on his flat features.

Slowly, you began to walk towards him, hesitant to stand too close to his tall frame and get in the way of his work. After a few seconds, you managed to summon the words you needed to express your confusion.

“Aren’t you mad that I didn’t sweep the snow off the porch and yard this morning?” you wondered, and the robot rolled his eyes in his dramatic manner. “I slept in, and…”

“No, I’m not,” replied Sonne, “Wash the parsley before cutting it, and remember to make sure it’s finely minced, or Basil will refuse to eat and start to pick at it.”

You hadn’t forgotten about the little picky eater, but that didn’t answer your question.

“So… It’s not a problem if I woke up, like, fifteen minutes ago?” you continued, and once more the automaton sighed, annoyed. 

“Do you seriously think I’d force you to wake up and work on Christmas Eve?” Sonne asked, turning around to send you an offended glare, “Yesterday you went to sleep late after helping mein Mondlicht in the library, so it’s only fair we’d allow you to sleep in this morning. I’m not a monster, liebling.”

After that last sentence, you felt a little bad for assuming the worst about your employer, but at the same time he had proved to be quite cruel in the past, so you weren’t entirely in the wrong. Shrugging, you went to stand next to him, grabbing a handful of parsley and moving it to the sink to wash.

“Mondlicht took care of the yard and porch a few hours ago,” Sonne explained, resuming his previous task and turning around, giving you his back once more, “Which means that you can stop moping around and help me out in the kitchen to prepare for tonight.”

“What are we making?” you asked him, taking out a knife from one of the drawers. At your question, the automaton hummed gently, like your curiosity had pleased him greatly.

“Since last year we followed the German tradition, this Christmas we’re going with the Italian one. You wouldn’t know, since this is your first Christmas with us, but it's common in this household to take turns on who gets to cook for the other,” replied the automaton, leaving your side to go and open the fridge to take out some butter. “I’m cooking for mein Mondlicht a dish from his hometown: creamed codfish with polenta.”

As you began to cut the freshly washed parsley, you stole a glance in Sonne’s direction, not missing the little smile on his face and the shine in his eyes; a shine you had seen on very few occasions, and never directed towards you. He looked happy just at the thought of cooking for his family. 

“What if I said that I’d rather not eat fish?” you grinned, bringing your eyes back on the knife, “Would Moon hit me on the head for not following his tradition?”

You didn’t hear Sonne moving closer to you, in fact, you didn’t even see his shadow looming over you before his hands were grabbing yours, stopping your movements, and his chest was pressed against your back.

“Of course not,” he replied, taking hold of both your hands and carefully beginning to maneuver them on the cutting board, correcting your stance and showing you the proper way to mince herbs. All the while, you were staring down at his fingers entwined with yours with wide eyes, unblinking, unable to even breathe as the robot’s voice rumbled against the back of your skull. “Me and Moonie love to teach the little ones about all the interesting traditions of our different cultures, but that’s not where we stop. They’re such smart little humans, they’re always eager for more, so more is what we give them. We cook dishes from France, Belgium, Turkey, Spain; what’s wrong with adding another? I’m sure we’d easily find something you’d enjoy as well, liebling.”

Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you could barely be able to hear the robot’s words over it. You weren’t sure, at first, if your sudden panic was caused by fear or embarrassment, but you found out quickly which one of the two it was when Sonne chuckled and your face turned a deep shade of pink. With amusement, the brass automaton took a step back, releasing your hands from his hold, and watched as you blinked a few times to regain your composure. 

“I’m sure you can go on from here without my help,” he said, smiling, even though you were visibly more lost than before, “Given that you have carefully watched and learned from my demonstration.”

Still blushing, you looked up at him over your shoulder, involuntarily letting him know with your large, panicked eyes that you hadn’t followed his advice at all. With a theatrical sigh, Sonne pushed you aside and took place on the cutting board next to you, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and then taking out a second knife from the drawer on his right.

“Alright, I’ll show you once more,” he declared, tilting his head back to stare down at you like he often did, “Don’t get distracted this time though. Understood?”

Silently, you nodded, and that seemed to be enough for Sonne.

“Good,” he hummed, “Hope you’re actually the fast learner you claim to be in your resume.”

Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate <3

Mein Mondlicht= my moonlight

Liebling= darling/dear

[dreamybasil]

Basil will simply be squished, I guess

squish

[doodlinge]

The White Egret Orchid — Its Symbolism, and What It Can Truly Tell Us About Omori

“my thoughts will follow you into your dreams”

this appears in the lost library, where sunny is alone and looking at memories and quotes said by him and his friends. these are quotes that are almost there but not completely… names scratched out, key details missing, things hazy. ive always been sort of intrigued by the flower meaning because it seems to be connected to mari, basil’s grandmother, and sunny. i want to unpack how this is connected to basil’s grandmother and to mari but first, i want to look at how its connected to sunny.

let’s look at the diction. “my thoughts will follow you into your dreams” in relation to sunny and his alter ego counterpart, omori, seems to be able to convey a clear meaning — sunny’s thoughts, as in “my” will follow omori (AND sunny) into his dreams. as these flowers are usually connected with grief in the game, we can easily make connections to sunny’s identity with grief. the death of sunny means the birth of omori, and the death of omori means the birth of sunny. rather, what’s interesting, though, is that omori’s “death” at the end of the game is not typical. omori does not, cannot, die in a usual way. he is invincible in battle, will not succumb, and as we know, omori is a manifestation of sunny’s grief, trauma and depression. as omori will not “die” in a typical way, we can see that sunny’s memory and feelings after this day cannot be squished down or killed, either.

as omori follows sunny on his journey, i realize: no. omori is the journey. omori is the main character we play as in sunny’s dreams, he is not only the concept of the truth but he’s the repression of it. we fight omori at the end of the game, fighting both the truth of mari’s death (how we will accept it, if we do) and fighting the regression of it as well (fighting to keep mari’s wish alive, to live, and to face the truth). you can think of sunny and omori as contradictions but i also think of them as having the same meaning, the same journey, which is probably why they hug at the end even if one “wins out”

sunny is barely alive, omori is an attempt at recreating life. they are the same. when you’re attempting to artifically create a life that you’re not truly experiencing, you are barely alive — you are missing out on your own life, and you are barely succeeding at the thing you do seek to recapture. omori experiences and repackages the memories sunny ALREADY HAD. sunny is the expression of life, sunny had his childhood, sunny experienced reality. but omori begs the question, how far can the line go between imitation and reality before they blend together?

my answer is, if a line is drawn at all, there will never be a blend. no matter how close the two concepts are, sunny will always unconciously (and soon, consciously) know the truth. he will know that this is not real, and then you might wonder, does he just not care then? no. sunny cares. that’s why he fights omori. however, its this conflict that drives them to be at war with each other — can sunny be convinced he doesn’t care, or that it would be better off not knowing the truth ever existed even if somewhere, deep down, he will always know?

omori WANTS us to see sunny’s side. of course, any person would think, it’s better off being present, being there, being in the moment, waking up every day and living even when it sucks so much. but then you play the game and its more fun to be in the dreamworld. we PREFER being trapped in these fictional worlds because they’re comforting. i know ive had this feeling before, hell, i still do. its just a part of life, we yearn for whats easy, we bask in what’s safe. to sunny, delusion is safe. to omori, delusion might as WELL be the truth. but might as well isnt enough, and in the end, that always will win out. we will always discover the truth. we will always fight ourselves. its just human nature, we want to LIVE, not to exist in a world where living is overrated.

in this same way, mari’s wish is clear for sunny. she wants him to face the truth. and that, that is what sticks throughout the whole game. mari’s wish is sunny’s, and mari was everything to sunny. really, sunny always just wanted what was best for mari. mari wanted the best for sunny, even if her ways of going about it ended in her death. in this way, her thoughts really do follow sunny into his dreams. he knows what she would have wanted, and it was always the best for him. mari loves her brother, so much more than anything in the world. and because mari loved him, a part of sunny still loves himself.

mari’s death is a contradiction like many symbols in omori. they can all be interpreted in so many different ways, but one thing stays clear. her death was also a wake up call. her life shows sunny how making friends, finding love, following your dreams and how following your passions is all possible. her thoughts—her love of taking care of everyone else and especially of sunny—follow him into his dreams, as he grows enough strength to confront himself head on and accept his grief as part of him. she, without even knowing it, shows sunny that he can be loved.

and so does aubrey. she almost drowns basil, and she is forgiven. even after all of her anger, she’s mad he didn’t come back. she’s not mad at him because she thinks of him as weak or cowardly, she’s mad because she loved him as her friend and she missed him when he left.

so does kel, as he still shows up for sunny four years later. he shows unconditional support as the best friend sunny could ask for. he shows sunny that the sun is still shining outside, and that time may move forward but real friends will come back.

so does hero, who makes such an effort to bring the gang back together before sunny moves because it’s what mari would have wanted, and it’s what everyone deserves. he takes care of sunny, and helps sunny therefore trust himself to keep going. he is such a good influence on sunny, and he constantly reaffirms how much mari loved him, and how much she still does. that will never change, just like how hero’s brotherly love for sunny will never change.

and BASIL. basil loves sunny to the point of giving him his most prized possession after just getting it back, and basil loves sunny to the point of staying in one place just waiting for him to come back. being honest, basil was not a healthy presence in sunnys life, but how could either of them have predicted that? as children, basil loved sunny to the point of starting a photo album to capture vivid pictures of both him, mari and the rest of their friends. basil grew flowers that reminded him of each one of his friends, and from the looks of it, tried to get them into new passions because he loved them. basil was the one to check in on sunny and mari before their rehearsal, because he loved them, and tragically, basil was the one who loved his friends to the point of being willing to do anything for them.

basil didn’t want sunny to go to jail, or to have his reputation and that of his family’s tarnished forever. he has so much trust in sunny that his mind tricks him into believing that their shared hallucinations killed mari, not him. “you didn’t do that sunny. a good person wouldn’t do something like that. it must’ve been… something behind you.” basil’s love is, and i will say this firmly, unhealthy. you can argue obsessive. but it stemmed from a true and good natured place, from the fostering of a small seed into a blooming sunflower by the end of the game. basil was cherished by his friends, and because of that, he cherishes his own so deeply.

it’s true that basil basically ruined things for sunny, but it’s also true that you can hurt people you love. sunny loved mari, and he pushed her down the stairs and killed her. basil loved sunny, and he staged a suicide for his sister. aubrey loved basil, and she pushed him into a lake and almost drowned him. kel loved aubrey, and he fought her in the middle of her church and humiliated her. hero loved kel, and hero yelled at kel and neglected his brother because of his grief. all of these characters love each other. and all of them have hurt each other.

omori wants to protect sunny. omori loves sunny. in reality, sunny loves himself. but omori’s existence as the denial of sunny’s trauma hurts him.

sunny leans into omori. sunny offers and accepts a hug from him. sunny relied on omori for 4 years. but after seeing what life is like, sunny wants to live.

with basil’s grandmother, it shows how things change. life will always present problems, and there will always be the choice to hide away or to face it head on. even four years later, the white egret orchid symbolizes how these problems are still soberingly real. but to accept living, the truth, and to live fulfilling mari’s wishes, sunny has to accept that alongside all of the great things.

OVERALL:

the white egret orchid is not a symbol to represent any one character, but it is meant to represent the wishes of your loved ones and, as to quote the game, how “my thoughts will follow into your dreams”. as sunny faces the truth and accepts that he killed mari, then one day, his dreams will be blank, black and calm. and really, that’s what mari, basil, and sunny deserve: for their wish for peace to come to fruition, and for reality to be the more important thing than our dreams. thanks for reading this; i know i dont usually make analysis posts but theyre probably my favorite. hope u enjoyed!

[selarina]

TW angst, infidelity

You walk in slowly, your pace faltering as you place your bag on the couch, followed by your blazer, which you ensure to neatly fold and place.

You hear some metal clinks as you make your way deeper into the house. "Hey," you call out, only to spot Gojo Satoru in the heart of the kitchen, swishing a pan full of pasta with a graceful ease. The same sense of graceful ease you've tried to become accustomed to over the past few months.

"You're cooking?" you ask hesitantly, despite the evidence being right in front of your eyes.

"I make one thing, and I make it good. And since it's our quarter anniversary, I figured I'd do something special," he says. "You know especially since a car isn't enough for you," he quips, his attention shifting from the pan to your face, accompanied by a sly wink.

You draw closer, trying to maintain a squint on your face but you're finding that every muscle on your skeleton is rejecting humour, you don't have time for it. You don't deserve it.

"Every guy thinks his pasta sauce is expceptio—"

Your words dissolve as he inserts a spoonful of the concoction into your mouth. You feel notes of garlic, infused with a rich, savoury tomato sauce and then with a swallow you taste another hint of basil and oregano on your taste buds.

You're left with an admission: "This is... good," you say, your surprise echoing in your tone and expression.

"Well, you know me. Can't help it." Gojo grins triumphantly, his confident smile seemingly well-placed.

"I do," you respond, gaze fixed on the kitchen window. "You're incredible."

"Well," he grins again, leaning down to place a soft peck on your cheek. "I have to be when I'm with someone as incredible as you."

You chuckle, admittedly half-heartedly. Everything he's saying and doing this evening is making you want to crawl out of your skin and scream. "So, our quarter anniversary, huh?" you say, trying to shift the focus away from the pasta, and away from you.

"Uh huh," he nods, attention still focused on the sizzling pan.

"I didn't know," you say, dejectedly. You're still staring at the kitchen window, you never truly realised how much of a space you've made in this house. You notice your plant sitting outside in the evening air, admittedly a little neglected but still living a green life. You wonder if God made you truly lay your eyes on it as part of some cruel cruel symbolism.

"Hey," his arm encircles your waist, drawing you nearer to his side. "It's okay. I only used it as an excuse to make you this meal anyway."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you want to make me food?" you clarify.

"I don't know. Felt like it," he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah," you say, tears reaching it's brim, tears you've been holding in since you walked into this building. "Yeah, I don't—"

"What?" His voice softens, barely audible amidst the sizzling melody of the dish.

"I don't deserve this," you murmur, tears tracing a path down your cheeks. "I don't deserve you."

Gojo's grip loosens momentarily before tightening once more, "What? What are you talking about? That's stupid talk."

"I don't deserve you. It's true, everyone already says it. They're right, you know. You should listen—"

"That is stupid talk. Don't say shit like that," he says. "Please," his voice softens — it comes out as a desperate plea this time, "Please don't say that."

You've come to realize that's Gojo Satoru's heart is a soft little thing, easy to squish but protected by layers and layers of hard skin, layers and layers of distance, but for you — for you he laid his heart bare, held it in his hand for you to take, and all you managed to do was drop it with a splash.

"I'm sorry. It's just— I can't continue like this," you say, another slew of tears following down your cheeks and falling to the ground.

"What?"

"I said I can't do this—" you repeat.

"I heard you," he says firmly. "Why now?"

"I'm sorry," you say.

"Why now?" he asks, his eyes clearing up, a sort of neutral storm settling in them. You wonder if you should commit this moment to memory, the very last picture of Gojo Satoru.

"I'm sorry," you say again, not knowing what to say really.

"Why now?" He says again, firmly as his hands loosen from around you.

A beat passes and you don't say anything.

"I kissed a co-worker," you admit, and his hands leave you almost immediately. It's off your body and there's an immediate distance between the two of you. "It didn't mean anything."

"Was it Mike?" he inquires.

You don't say anything.

"It was him, wasn't it? Mike," he says, with a chuckle that held nothing but malice.

"I'm sorry," you repeat, empty words for an empty shell of a person.

"I have to leave," and just like that he takes off, and you don't even feel him leave. One minute he's here and the next minute you're standing in an empty kitchen.

You turn to the pan as you hear a sizzle — the food's burning to black. You chuckle echoes across the room, a delirious sense of unease settling where you stand.

[cherryozyi]

Sharp chompers

[hivemuthur]

9, 20, 25 for the ask game !!

Hi Anon! Thank you for the ask!

9. Best childhood moment.

Omg. When my grandad finally let me adopt a cat. When I was a child, my grandparents had a cabin in Beskidy mountains, I would go there every summer and just spend three months playing with kids who lived there. One of our neighbors had kittens and wanted to get rid of them, I fell in love with one (I think I was 9 or 10). At first I was of course told no and given an extensive lecture on what kind of a responsibility an animal is. I went out, built some bunkers with friends in the forest, and when I was called back my grandma told me my grandad had a question for me. You can imagine that I nearly broke my neck running right? The question was: do you want a cucumber with your lunch? And I was like omg no, don't go breaking my heart now. But then he sighed, gave me the plate and asked, "So. Where is this cat?"

And that was Basil. My dear friend, the best boi on this planet. He was kind and smart and peaceful and very big. He slept on my back and never said no to being carried around and squished, perfect cat for a child.

20. Tell us about memory you hold close to your heart.

So, other than getting my first cat that was truly my responsibility, I would say moving to my bf during pandemics. Me and my friend were at a weird stage in our lives - he lived with me until his apartment was available, but in this time mine was getting emptier and emptier. He helped me with the move - we would carry furniture through the city in the middle of the night when going out wasn't allowed. He borrowed a car from his work (food delivery) to help me transport the big stuff. And for a week we lived together in this weird space where there was no longer furniture or equipment in the kitchen so we used a portable camping stove that we put in the middle of it and pretended we are in fact camping. He isn't like a super close friend, just someone I knew from highschool, then uni, and we were sort of in the same friends circles, so it's very odd that I've spent this time with him. We both kinda patted each other on the back before making the big step. There is many others, but this one came to my mind first.

25. If your soul was a colour, what would it be?

I think something like this? No massive explanation for it, just a vibe:

soft asks game