Tumgik
#can you believe lol
stevenrogered · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jena Malone reveals that Jennifer Lawrence was not on set when she filmed Johanna’s elevator scene in Catching Fire (x)
613 notes · View notes
machinerot · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
glassedplanets · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i am still soooo charmed by that one set of eyecatchers
2K notes · View notes
mintjeru · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"but there is nothing more beautiful and terrifying than innocence."
open for better quality | no reposts
1K notes · View notes
mizukkay · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Cold night.
3K notes · View notes
sensitiveheartless · 2 months
Text
Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.
~*~
Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.
Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.
His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.
Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.
Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.
Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.
And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.
In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.
In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.
Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.
For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.
Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.
As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.
Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.
“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”
Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.
“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”
Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.
“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.
Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.
…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.
“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”
Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.
One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.
Nothing happened.
Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.
His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.
It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.
After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.
When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.
His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.
At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.
“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”
“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”
“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”
Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”
There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.
It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.
“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”
That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.
After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.
“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.
“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.
“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”
Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”
“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.
“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.
“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.
“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”
Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.
“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.
“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”
Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”
“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”
Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”
Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”
Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”
Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff. 
Hiding again, Chuuya thought.
For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.
Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.
But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.
Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.
And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.
Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”
Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.
“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”
That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.
“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”
“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.
“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.
“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”
Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”
That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.
Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.
All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”
Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.
He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.
“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”
Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”
Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.
Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.
“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.
Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”
“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”
“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”
There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.
He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.
“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.
Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”
Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”
Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.
Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.
And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.
So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”
Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”
Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.
And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.
The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.
“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”
A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”
At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”
A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”
“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”
754 notes · View notes
b4kuch1n · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
same teacher, different lessons
transcript
#sonic the hedgehog#dr. ivo eggman robotnik#miles tails prower#sonic frontiers#SPOILERS. THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THIS COMIC BY THE WAY.#SONIC FRONTIERS SPOILERS#smiles gently I can not believe I let sonic the fuckign hedgehog ruin my life#(I can I totally can)#hi <3 if you follow me because I drew this sonic comic. don't!#don't do it! follow me bc I'm funny and hot and devastatingly smart don't follow me bc I draw sonic stuff. bc it won;t happen again#I mean it. not bc I dont like or want to do sonic stuff. but bc I am literally in the middle of a job rn#one that I want to invest 100% of my time and brain in#this comic is actually an effort to win my brain back so I can do my job lol#because I finished miss penny snapcube's streams of this game and it force fed me emotions#I just! I just thought sonic would come tell eggman abt sage!! idk seems like something he'd do!!!#and also the whole thing abt letting the characters move on and have a future and change and develop#vs Killing My Baby Little Guy Daughter For Like Ten Minutes#thematically interesting! also for some reasons I had. a pretty easy time drawing this#I was mouthbreathing galloping like a horse to finishing this. Because I Need To Work#I didnt expect to have a good time with these designs tho idk why. probably bc I most suck shit at drawing animals#but to be fair yet again sonic and tails are little guys. theyre animal but theyre also like dudes. also sonic's design is kinda perfect#as far as character design goes he's really pretty goo- wait I made a continuity error hol on#okay. okay I fixed it. no problem. no matter 's all good now#okay. I go sleep now. today has been very noisy. but this actually got me through it okay#thank you sonic the hedgehog. that was pretty cool of u#have a good night guys! absolute freedom is probably really really sad#long post
6K notes · View notes
madsraa · 10 months
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I finally finished this painting!!
2K notes · View notes
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ok so i've completely lost all will to finish the rest of the prompts for @huntlowweek but here are the remaining doodles i did for the prompt "love language"
while both of them really would be "quality time" i put hunter's as "act of service" and willow's as "words of flirtation AFFIRMATION"
again sorry to being late and unable to finish, we will be back to regular sketchbook pages now.
5K notes · View notes
hellspawnmotel · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I finished wild arms yesterday! what a great game
709 notes · View notes
waveoftheocean · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
06.10.23 happy birthday iwa-chan!! sorry for inflicting paperwork on you for your bday but at least you have oikawa to help (coughdistractcough) you 🥰
1K notes · View notes
harbingersecho · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
calm down, i'm not gonna kill you.
... y-you're not?
no. he is.
1K notes · View notes
maxsix · 13 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mingi at Coachella 2024 Part II, April 12th
221 notes · View notes
ushiromiya · 8 months
Text
(madoka magica / rebellion spoilers below. TW: suicide and controlling behavior)
I don't know the direction in which walpurgisnacht rising will take homura's character but I can say with confidence that from at least where rebellion left off that I truly believe that homura made the decision that she felt was the most correct one even if it meant she had to become a monster in the eyes of every person that loved her. she felt that if things were left in the way the law of the cycle was currently running things that it was inevitable that kyubey would eventually capture madoka in her goddess form, study her, and use her to as a source for mass amounts of energy at the suffering of herself, the others within the law of the cycle, and magical girls at large again. this is something he explains very clearly when talking to homura before her transformation into homulilly.
I get so exhausted when I see people try characterize homura as an actually evil person with completely selfish desires and no regard for others. all of her actions, while not explicitly explained outright, when looked at closely always indicate that she does things out of her care for the other girls but feels like she bears the burden of having to do it alone because she believes she's the only one who doesn't let her emotions get in the way of protecting madoka and the others from kyubey and sometimes each other.
I will always use the scenes of her interactions with mami and sayaka in rebellion as huge examples of this. she has no reason not to kill them if she's a completely selfish and unemphatic person that only cares about madoka and no one else when given many opportunities to do so. I also don't personally think she keeps them around JUST because of madoka's happiness either. she very easily could have suppressed their roles in madoka's life with the world rewrite and clearly choose not to. I believe her mocking sayaka and acting in a clearly "evil" manner is deliberate acting on her part to frame herself as a villain. she might believe this would her actions more palatable and will create distance between herself and everyone else to protect them as well as allow her to assert more control in this situation. it is further emphasized how she truly feels with imagery displayed in homura's new world around herself (shoes abandoned on the side of a building to potentially indicate suicidal ideation, a half moon alluding to homura feeling unfulfilled and unhappy with this decision, her dancing around happily before stopping and slowly falling off the cliff side with a similar implication as the shoes).
homura's relationship with the others is incredibly complicated but she cares for them deeply too as they are also people she considers friends, she just had a particularly strong attachment to madoka. we don't get to see as many instances of her interacting with them as we do them interacting with each other as we are unfortunately only really privy to homura's life after she began looping for the most part but we can see it in the way she has expresses concern and distress for them in moments where she believes they are in real, tangible danger of being hurt (she's winces and tries to turn away when aiming for mami's leg and screams out when she believes mami is about to be truly harmed after their gun fight, which neither ever had the real intention of hitting one another with any of those bullets in the first place). her entire witch's labyrinth is one where everyone is happy and gets the lives they desire. why would her labyrinth, which is meant to reflect in-part her inner feelings and desires, appear that way if she didn't truly want that for everyone?
rebellion is so compelling to me for all of this and so much more!! (I could write a whole other post on the way it presents it's freedom with danger vs control with safety question at the end of the film) she is a girl who has repeatedly suffered incredibly traumatizing events and longs for a world where the person she loves and the friends she considers dear are safe. homura is not really the devil, but she wants to appear to be because being the devil would be easier than being a human being in these circumstances.
598 notes · View notes
unspuncreature · 24 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
single braincell hard at work, yet local croissant reportedly still has no idea what is going on. more on this developing story at 7
216 notes · View notes
Text
most of us have heard of the red car game. you’re on a road trip, you’re bored, you start looking for red cars to do something.
and then they’re everywhere. you notice them nearly every few minutes.
there aren’t suddenly more red cars now, of course. you were seeing them already, but you weren’t noticing. you weren’t looking.
I am noticing things.
there is a plant I notice everywhere now, a small bushy plant in suburbs, along streets, by shops on the highways. dwarf umbrella bush is what the internet tells me when I look for it’s name. I did this because I wanted to know why,
every time I ever saw it, every place,
it was always dying. always the leaves turning yellow, the branches small and scraggly. inside out - nitrogen deficiency. their soil drained.
I am noticing how many of these landscaping plants are yellowing, how small and sickly they look in just a few years. I am noticing how often the grass outside the house is replaced when it once again turns brown and dry, how the type never changes and the cycle starts again. I am noticing how the unmowed, unkempt spaces on lakesides and roadsides look more alive than this. how the preserve I grew up next to was miles of “messy” unmanicured nature and the ground was covered in leaves instead of grass and there was life.
I am noticing the birds that come by the lake. there was a flash of blue wings and red chest - eastern bluebird, male, relatively common. I had never seen one before. there is a family of ducks that appear every spring; i cannot say if it’s successive generations or different ducks, but I can always look forward to ducklings. there are little brown birds with white heads whose names I do not know - are they some kind of piper? why don’t I already know?
why is it so hard to learn about my native plants (accurately, that is)? why are so many gardening sites littered with people who think a plants value is based on how pretty or useful it is to them, who think a tree shedding leaves is “messy”?
why is knowing about the world we live in so… odd? why is it a hobby and not vital knowledge? I learned about polar equations. I taught myself about mycorrhizal networks and species of insects.
(did you know there are shiny green bees? a special species of wasp pollinating figs? that white flowers bloom at night for moths? do you know? have you looked?)
I cannot look at a lawn and see life anymore. it is a wasteland, devoid of life, dying slowly itself. everywhere is grass, grass, doused in water that runs over into storm drains, soaked in fertilizer and pesticides and a hundred other poisons and sending one clear message:
this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.
I do not think I could live in a city. too loud, yes, too busy, yes, too many people, yes, but the plants would bother me. a tree allotted only a convenient square, surrounded by dead stone and metal.
a forest cleared for this, for burning asphalt streets and racing cars and shops whose bathrooms are “for paying customers only”.
this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.
and now I am noticing.
1K notes · View notes