#loquacious cat

[some-mari-thoughts]

I made my first ever completed reference

And it is @loquaciouscat the legend and the bestie! Go wild, you have a fursona now

[loquaciouscat]

My kin list except its probably the most chaotic and stupid one you have seen:

[kiwi-qwq]

Tw kinda for: eye strain(?), some vague blood, just general horror ish stuff

So I feel as if I haven’t done ANYTHING omori related lately, so

Black spaces your omor

This is kind of like fucked up eye spy to see if you can find some specific sprites I guess

Done in oil pastel and lyra pens

[gatoburr0]

Deadly veins that pump blood out of my body, without me noticing with so many things around.

[absolutebl]

Love Sea - A Trash Watch Smolder

Well my BLabies, do you have your drinks ready?

Are your smores stabbed on dildos, ready to roast over the stinking flames? (Or whatever one prods smores with, I missed that weird American tradition in my misspent youth.)

Can you smell it in the air? The smell of burning trash?

Let the dumpster fire begin. Another Mame offering is upon us.

The Background

The Mameverse tends to interlock, but all signs point to these being entirely new characters. (Click on that link if you want my thoughts on this author/producer and what I feel she does well and poorly.) Meanwhile, here's the brief:

Who?

FortPeat - established couple from previous Mame offering Love in the Air AKA LITA (trash watched here).

How do we feel about them? We likie. They a great pair. Steady, established actors, good a promo, but not too good. Bit one note but can't ask for too much when it comes with such great chemistry.

What do we know about them as actors? Fort is legitimately in Engineering (hilarious). Peat and he started in the industry around the same time with bit parts, but Peat is 4 years older. They do high heat and they do it well. They were quite popular after their first series and have received sponsorships. So they wisely stayed branded and it's nice to see them on our screens again.

What?

Love Sea

While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.

When?

Sundays

Where?

iQIYI (AKA icky)

Why?

Mame

To what degree?

Stick your thermometer into that fire, we gonna find out. 102°C I expect.

Episode One - That's An Outfit We'd All Wear to a Tropical Island

Here’s the thing. Icky has decided (in its infinite wisdom) that it will no longer allow screen caps on mobile devices. Which means you’re going to get my loquaciousness on this dumpster fire with no respite from the unmitigated madness via photos of pretty boys saying stupid things.

So. Read at your own risk.

I have a bottle of sake and a maple doughnut (don’t knock it 'til you’ve tried it) so let’s get started!

Hold onto your dildo smores BLabies we are in Mame Country. And apparently that country has its very own baby drone to film with now. (Look, the one thing BL rarely needs more distance shots. That’s not what we’re here for, people. Certainly not from FortPeat.)

Rak, baby, I'm loving the all-black western meets goth-rocker look but that eye make-up is the true star. This is how I shall dress when I visit Thailand next. (Oh, you think I'm joking? Gotta work on my smokey eye.)

Meanwhile, if your suitcases are that expensive, why aren’t they matched?

P'ABL asking the important questions for once.

Speaking of important questions:

Why are siblings always trying to pimp each other out in Mame’s stuff? Does anyone else find this creepy? I think it’s odd to be your sibling's wingman when he's chasing tail. It’s edging into the incest taboo. Oh dear, I said edging and incest in the same sentence, I’m probubly giving Mame ideas.

I’m getting Hometown Cha Cha Cha vibes from Mut.

Rak is such a cat, very picky and stand-offish. Mut is such a puppy. Very conflicting personalities. Not a bad combo. Also Rich/poor. Country/city.

The "let’s get it on" music is hilarious. But at least Mame doesn't use egregious sound effects in her shows. Well, not as many as GMMTV. Small mercies.

I will say, FortPeat do hurt/comfort very well. Peat is good at prickly fragile baby-girl. Fort is good at cocky arrogant prick. They are good at bouncing off of each other and still showing desire. Frankly, chemistry is not one of their problems. They’re fine little actors. It’s just the story is going to betray them. Characters are going to be inexplicably evil for no good reason. And we are going to feel manipulated as a result.

But right now?

It’s fine.

And that's it, that's how I feel about Love Sea.

All in all, I’m quite drunk and it wasn’t warranted.

Waste of sake. Not a waste of a maple doughnut. No such thing. Maple donuts are always put to good use.

Okay, so Mame? Just keep it on this level and we'll remain fine. Some light terrorizing and stalking, a smidge of breaking and entering. Nothing more offensive, okay?

But that’s my eternal optimism (and the sake) talking.

Right now I’m not feeling very strongly in any direction about this show. I haven’t been whipped into a verbal frenzy.

This has been a lackluster start.

Kortord tukorn

(sorry all)

This trash watch has started off as more of a dumpster smolder. A light recycling. (Like Mame and her character archetypes.)

We smokey rather than flaming (Like Rak's FANTASTIC eye makeup.)

Oof, I feel faintly ill. I think that is the sake, tho, not the eye make up. Which was on point! Although when he started to cry, it should’ve started running down his face. Life has very few stand out moments of glory apart from an adorable young man with eye makeup running down his face.

Catch ya next week. More sake, less doughnut.

su su na

Episode Two - Rack's Green Knit Shirt is Kinda Cute

I seriously cannot fault FortPeat's chemistry. And the opening sequence for this ep was intriguingly full of banter and then...

Surprise, BJ!

I do hope that beach is private. Starting with a BJ is very unusual in a BL. We certainly lick live in interesting times.

I feel like I haven't quite been warmed up to a sex scene yet. Kinda came out of nowhere. I mean it IS quite gay, making the prick front and center before the relationship gets going. But I was oddly indifferent to this start.

I'm on gd roll tonight apparently.

You know why? (Well, I'm me, but also...)

I feel like I have license. This show is kinda rude. Is that the word I’m looking for? Yes, rude. It's not very sexy, and it's not quite dirty, it's something else. Rude.

I’m not upset about it. It’s just odd. Like Thailand is trying on some Japanese button pushing for size.

I’m not mad just mildly confused.

Meanwhile, the GL sides are a "whipping girl" trope? Not sure I’ve ever we seen that combo before. Gay mean girls or something?

On an entirely different note, BL universe, I just thought I'd tell you that’s not where a gay man of Rak's caliber puts his perfume. Just FYI. 

I love claiming.

I love a public claiming!

I don’t care if this is Mame.

I LOVE A CLAIMING. 

Also, I am very much enjoying MutRak banter. Actually, I’m pretty much enjoying this episode.

OOOO, I typed too soon.

The second half is kinda dull.

Mame's little moment of "Author insert" was awful ham-handed and on the nose. On the prick? On the ego? She compared her own rampant mischaracterization and audience manipulation to the presence of dragons in a fantasy world? Basically saying: in BL my characters don’t have to be consistent, because that’s part of the genre.

I assure you, sweetheart, there are plenty of BLs and plenty of authors who have honest characterization that stays consistent throughout, and GASP actually bolsters faithful stories and drives plot with a conflict sourced in that consistency. Wandee Goodday... to pluck a randomly contemporaneous example out of thin air. You should try it sometime.

Ooo, now I'm salty.

Episode 3 - But Now, I'm Bored

Before we start....

Linguistics Corner!

Because I got an Ask here's a bit on these two and their pronouns! (We can see if my predictions are correct during the course of this trash watch.) We are in the realm of adult characters not school setting or friendship groups so Rak is using chan/nai and khun with Mut. There is a class & wealth difference with them, + Mut starts out as a kind of employee, so chan/nai makes perfect sense. It's an old fashioned but polite way of speaking that dodges age negotiations. Rak likely doesn't know their respective ages (he could be the older one). To even begin the discussion implies a willingness to use more intimate language so Rak likely doesn't wanna open that can of worms pronouns. He is using both chan/nai and his lack of flexibility around their use as a distancing tactic. Probubly instinctively. Pom or own name would be both intimate and status lowering for him to use. With most adult characters, phi/nong takes longer to establish (if ever), particularly if they start out as strangers. Also, it has much more intimate connotations. And by that I mean: emotional vulnerability not sex. It's fun to pay attention tho, because when these two pronoun shift (and they will) it's likely to be a significant moment in their romantic arc. If I'm lucky we will get a negotiation but that's not really a Meme thing so I suspect Mut will soften his language first. Because of Mut's characterization, and in order to ramp up the romance, I would actually expect these two to (eventually) parlay into rao/ter instead of phi/pom or guu/mueng. But I am looking forward to finding out how it's handled.

And now onto the episode.

...

..

.

Over a quarter way through and I have absolutely nothing to say. I apologize, this muse be a very boring trash watch. (Imagine how I feel?) I’m too tired to drink but even if there were alcohol in my system, I still think I would have nothing to say. 

Oh. Is that? Do I sense.... *GASP*

Traumatic backstories for our characters?

From Mame? Who seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering?

Say it isn't so?

OK we’re now halfway through this episode and apparently there’s been a Time-lapse of some kind? A couple of weeks?

So this little cat & dog game they’ve been playing has been going on for a while?

Meanwhile...

I had a huge grin on my face at the moment Ja showed up. I guess I really miss him on my screen. Hi tall drink of water.

Oh, hydration.

Back to the show.

Just two boys with abandonment issues learning how to turn a vacation fling into a relationship mistake.

Also it’s a bit too early for that level of confessional. Isn't it? Well pacing-wise for a BL it feels that way. Are we now about to turn into a country mouse narrative?

On an entirely different note, it’s fascinating to have FortPeat and MosBank airing to high heat BLs at the same time. Especially as they're running on about the same release schedule. I’m enjoying watching 2 pairs both like in chemistry.

WAIT.

I sense a parody coming on.

Two branded pairs, both alike in chemistry, In fair Thailand, where all the cute boys yearn, From ancient grudge to suffer new Mame, Where trash watches make dumpster fires burn. From Fort the fatal loins of these two hoes (I HAD TO). A pair of branded pairs take on the heat; Whose narratives will oft include no clothes, Do with their smooches fight Tumblr critique. Such shameful usage of the dub-con trope, (Contrasted to others thirsty scenes,) Which, but for Mame's brand, all would say nope, Is now 12 eps of angst upon our screens. To wit, if you want sex without my diatribes, Give this a pass and watch Sunset X Vibes.

Thank you thank you. That is for the 3 people reading this who care.

Where was I?

Or right, no fault to FortPeat. Both pairs are working with the characters and scripts that they've been given.

But right now the sexitimes in this show just feel a lot more service and a lot less genuine (for lack of a better word) then Sunset X Vibes. Now, I know that the characters, narrative, and production company preferences are completely different, but the consummate interplay between surrender and hunger and consummation are oddly similar between these pairs, and yet they're reading (from this side of the screen) completely differently.

I don’t know where I’m going with this.

I just think we have an interesting study in heat and chemistry airing double down right now. And I wonder is anyone else is sensing what I'm sensing.

Writing that sonnet (or whatever) has utterly exhausted me. Nighty night. Don't let the guy-who-took-a-copy-of-your-hotel-key-and-broke-into-your-room bite.

Episode 4 - And Now, I'm Bored & Annoyed

I rushed back from the wilds of foreign climes to trash watch what exactly?

All this time spent establishing Mut as a

pillar of his community

really important lynchpin for oceanic conservation work

striving for his independence

building local friendships and surrogate family

the de facto mayor of this island

And he just leaves for Bangkok to be a boy toy?

And they JOKE about it?

Is the stuff between Mook and Mut supposed to be funny? It's not.

I got so bored I started looking up ways to organize my sunglasses.

Why is Mook so worried about Rak? He’s clearly an asshole who can take care of himself.

What is Mut doing with his life?

What am I doing with mine?

Too early in the series for an existential crisis.

I definitely need to start drinking again for this one.

Episode 5 - In which I simultaneously got even more bored & more annoyed

This time I armed myself with both booze and sugar. Unfortunately, there are some things even alcohol and chocolate can't cure. Mame is one of those things.

The bullying GL subplot is just BAD.

I’m getting an overall EPIC SQUICK from the fact that the two rich privileged characters are essentially taking advantage of the two lower class poorer characters. It’s not a power dynamic I enjoy at all. Ever.

So... everyone in Rak’s family is an extreme bitch, including him? Okaaay.

I mean Rak is pretty and all but I fail to understand the appeal. Maybe Mut just likes bitches? Maybe the sex really is that great?

I tell you, I wouldn’t put up with it.

ARGH. I'm just I’m not finding any of the character dynamics appealing in this show. I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I were back in LITA territory. 

I’m honestly sorry this trash watch is so bad.

This show isn’t inspiring me into anything but a general feeling of mild annoyance and slight fury.

It's like this rash I had in Stockholm one time.

Startlingly unpleasant, not what one might hope for, but also it could be worse, I suppose.

Episode 6 - In which I get very upset about jealousy

Tonight I'm combining my sugar with my alcohol and drinking chocolate soy milk with chocolate liquor in it. I'm aware that I have a child's taste in booze. The secret is I don't actually enjoy alcohol, I simply need it to survive Mame.

OK let’s do it.

Rich boy shops when sad.

Frankly, that always makes me feel better too. I prefer the snack aisle myself.

Oh. Goodie. You get to now watch ABL completely losing an entire brain due to raging at the machine because of one sentence.

Ready?

Chapter 6: Jealousy is a Sign of Love

Jealousy is a sign of love?! You absolute fuckers. Jealousy is not a sign of love, jealousy is a sign of possession, insecurity, insanity, and often abuse. Jealousy is a sign to dump that shithead as quickly as possible.

I mean, we all understand the story beat: in BL possession is revered and admired and used to drive plot when all other avenues have been exhausted. But you can’t just say it as the title of an episode! That’s too blatant.

TOO FAR!

Returning to the traumatic backstory. 

No, actually. Let’s skip that part.

I do like it when Rak gets all bossy. I love it when a spoiled boy manipulates his man's body to be his bolster pillow. Taiwan is particularly good at this.

Should I just go watch We Best Love for the 1millionth time instead of this show?

Too tempting.

Where was I?

It’s not even halfway through and I’ve already finished my drink in desperation. And am day dreaming of better shows.

Honestly, I have had many feelings about Meme over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this bored with any of her stuff. I’d rather feel something than nothing.

Meanwhile, the GL moves on from bullying to outright manipulation and gaslighting. Cute. Added French for flavor.

I do like a smile kiss. And a lap sit. And so forth. So Fort.

Yes these two do sex scenes very well.

Give me something more.

Anything.

On the bright side... so far... no singing.

Episode 7 - I'm Too Drunk for This

This time, I decided to pre-game. So I went in tipsy. I’m hoping this improves my mood.

Look, I'm doing my best for you here. (Or am I doing my floppyest for you? Eh, same difference.)

Frankly, what’s really annoying me is that I am neither upset nor pleased with this flipping show. Turns out, I like to be driven one way or the other by Mame. But this show? Nada. It's a VOID.

At this juncture I'd prefer to feel rage than indifference.

I gotta say that thinking about this purely as a soap opera makes me understand it more. I don't like it any better, but I get what's going on. These are the Days of Our BL.

Oh hey, I know that convention center! Best food in the biz.

The revenge bit was fun I guess?

Ooo. Now I kinda wanna rewatch Shelter. It’s been ages. Such a great movie. 

Where was I?

Oh, right, the crazy cousin character. I don’t understand what’s going on with her. Why do we need her? Why is she here? What’s her motivation?

I’m too drunk for this shit.

I'm going to bed.

Episode 8 - I'm Not Drunk Enough for This

(I detect a theme)

Okay so the hotel wifi is not awful, we gonna try watching icky with it. Always a challenge. Wish me luck!

Wouldn't it be fun if Mut has been conning Rak with this good guy persona the entire time and he really is just after money? I kinda love the idea.

Sadly, I think this is way more boring.

Rak is just a bitch, not even a sublime bitch, but a boring bitch. That's worse than a basic one.

The drama with the dad just seems manufactured. I mean what does the dad want except to be evil?

I mean I know what Mame wants, an excuse for Rak to break Mut's heart.

And now, I'm annoyed and hungry. Imma eat hotel snacks and disappointment in equal measure.

Episode 9 - Perhaps I'm the problem?

I did this already and then tumblr ate it so this time around it's not as witty. Trust me that in the first assessment I was all charm. Now I am all sarcasm.

I enjoyed the random fight scenes. At least something happened. Also the collapsing in his arms was very dramatic.

I can see why Mame reused this pair for this show, because Peat is so good at being broken & fragile (see previous role).

But also… I feel like I’ve seen all of this before. Oh right, the psychotic breakdown scene in TharnType. The fragile broken uke from Love By Chance. The seme with a heart of gold and fists of steel from… all of them. 

I find this exhausting.

Is anyone else exhausted?

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again (AKA watching Mame) and expecting a different result. I must be certifiably bonkers at this juncture.

Second half of this show I begin to wonder one thing. (Well my mind wanders a lot but this particular thought bubbled to the surface.) 

Is this show actually an okay Thai BL?

Wait! Hear me out.

If this were ones first Meme, would it be… fine? In other words, if I didn’t have this storied (or lack of story, nash) history with her creative endeavors, would this bore me this much?

Is this actually just an average mildly enjoyable high-heat Thai BL to others, who are coming to her stuff for the first (or maybe the second) time?

Is it over-exposure or the has traumatized me in this way?

Am I corrupted through overindulgence?

Is this all my own fault?

Should I be taking a break from her? Should I not watch the next 3 productions that she does, and then return to her with fresh feelings of openness and amenable temper?

Is it me who is the problem? 

Yet the act of asking that last question makes me feel like I’m in the same kind of abusive relationship with Mame that Rak was with his father.

Then I feel like I need to drink more. Or see a therapist.

So that’s enough philosophy for one evening.

And then, at the very very end A THRILL DESCENDED UPON ME.

Watching the stinger for next weekI was all… 

Is this a 10 epper? Oh my God it is! Fantastic. Next week is the last one! I SEE THE LIGHT. 

Episode 10 - The Lingering Scent of Disappointment

Today I am drinking a soju cocktail. Which I can highly recommend. If you're a lightweight but you like vodka, Fresh Soju is actually a pretty decent substitute with a lower alcohol content. 

This has been your bartender lesson for today, moving on.

Wait. 

If the Maa could’ve fixed this all along by throwing the Dad in jail, why didn’t she? Why did she put her kids through all of this bullshit with stalking and abuse? Also the mom character was basically a deus ex machina, except she didn’t even happen on screen. It was action taken to solve what little plot there was... entirely off screen. How weird. I don’t even have a term for that. Bad writing? Recon explanation? Of screen resolution?

OK, Fort is acting so well in the breakup scene. I adore that “how much do I need to pay you to fall in love with me” parrots the original “how much do I need to pay you to sleep with me”. I must give props for that level of emotional manipulation in a romance drama of this type. 

That said, I feel for Rak, it’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Meanwhile... I have run out of alcohol and I am now eating brownie bites. Because life (and d**k) is too short and so is my patience. 

Why is that tattoo so absolutely terribly obviously fake?

Someone take tattoos and wigs away from Thailand. Just strip them out of all wardrobe departments in the entire Thai film industry. Clearly they can’t handle that level of POWER. It’s giving me trauma.

I do like that the solution to the drama of the break up was an actual sincere and abject apology. Very mature and grown up of you Mame. 

I wish they’d woven the number 8 throughout more of the show, like into the pattern of Rak’s shirts and maybe an earring or cuff.

Did they entirely forget about the GL side not-plot? Or is it just me not paying attention because I’m distracted by brownie bites? 

Regardless, I genuinely let out the biggest yawn during the very ending scene. It’s nowhere near my bedtime.

And… that’s it I guess.

I’m going on the record at this point. I don’t think I can do a trash watch of Mame again. It’s exhausting. And also is it really worth my (or your) time? This screed was so lackluster.

Final thoughts? 

This is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and mad I was so bored throughout.

So It gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it.

Conclusion? I’m left residually upset that FortPeat and all their talents are wasted on Mame. That seems unfair to them. And to us, quite frankly. 

************************************

All my trash watches are here:

(source)

[pursuitseternal]

3. Astarion x gale x ftav 🫢🫢

“Cat’s got your tongue?”

Gale x F!Reader x Astarion | Smut ask prompts

CW: Face sitting, polycule, bad puns

Verbose, loquacious, garrulous���

“You think the Wizard had better uses for his mouth than finding the longest means possible to say the simplest, stupidest things…” Astarion had swirled his cup, providing the usual amount of deprecating snark as he eyed Gale from across camp. “Think all that self-important lecturing has strengthened his tongue for other things?”

That was all the encouragement you had needed before your little proposition.

Just a little something to make the Wizard stuff it, Astarion had giggled.

And there was nothing better to silence those eager lips than your cunt.

Now, you rode his face, a warm tongue circling your clit with shocking precision, making your face bloom with blush. And your lover’s mouth worked furiously on yours; all breath and fangs for your lips. When your thrusting rhythms allowed you, that was. Your hips canted forward, leaning over Gale’s belly, one of your hands splayed on that softer curve of his stomach. The hair of his trail tickled your palm. The heat, the coarse little hairs, both were novelties for you since you took the Pale Elf as your lover.

And he was enjoying it too, by the faintest pink that colored his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears. His own body, so chiseled and cut as if carved by the gods themselves, rocked back and forth. Every sinuous undulation took the Wizard deeper and deeper inside him.

And you, lucky you, could feel every groan Gale made, every curse that tumbled from his lips against his broken goddess. Her former lover now worshiped you and vampiric lover, his hands gripped your hips with a commanding reverence. His scruffed chin and cheeks tickled your damp, sensitive folds with every thrust of that perpetually blabbering tongue into your cunt.

Astarion reached for your hand, taking it in his cool grip to guide your sweet, trembling fingers around his rock hard cock. The debauched conceit on his devastating features made your heart skip a beat. “Better than his normal dithering, isn’t it, my sweet?” Astarion crooned, locking eyes with you and pulling your mouth to his for a bite.

Leaning forward, you heard Gale take a deep gulp of air, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to part your ass cheeks. “It has been some time since I’ve laid with mortals… or well… one mortal and one undead.”

You could hear Astarion’s fangs grind before he started riding the Wizard’s cock faster.

Gale groaned, but wasn’t deterred. “You know, my lady, from reading and practicum, I’ve found that the most curious features of the female erogenous zones are…”

“Would you shut him the fuck up, dear?” Astarion snapped, almost ready to reach between your dripping thighs to clap a palm over his prattling mouth. “Honestly, it’s not the bomb in your chest that kills the mood, but your over abundance of knowledge, Wizard.”

One particularly well-timed, well-aimed thrust into the vampire made his crimson eyes roll back, not in condescension for once. Another, and Gale practically had the monster silenced as he clung to your shoulders for support. “Cat got your tongue?” Gale teased. With a laugh, you settled back on his own chuckling, waiting mouth.

“Yes, and now my pussy’s gotten yours,” you giggle, breathless again as he suckles your clit.

“An excellent choice… of pun,” comes his rejoinder, muffled beneath you.

[petrichorium]

BAM: Empty Beds

in which king gojo satoru returns from a diplomatic mission to find his bed empty, and has qualms with it

gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 3k reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing including dresses) tags: kinda hurt/comfort but mostly fluff, royal au, childhood friends to lovers, gojo picks up the reader, the end is a little bit intense emotionally but not super bad the reader just has intimacy issues and gojo confronts her abt it

usurper!gojo tag || masterlist

“embrace me,” he orders, muffled against your throat. it’s sullen, demanding, and you make no move to comply.

your husband whines wordlessly at you—it’s that noise which calms the tumultuous unease within you, an assurance that whatever mood he’d been in is quickly passing (or that your touch is so important he’ll cast aside any other thoughts in favor of pleading with you). he kisses up your throat, along your jaw, only to nose against your cheek like some affectionate cat. when he speaks it’s a beg; beseeching. “embrace me, wife.”

“talk to me, husband,” you retort. “your sulking is bad for my health. i was terrified.”

against your skin, his lips quirk into a teasing smile. “you’re adorable when you’re terrified.”

Someone has slipped into your room.

You’re asleep. You have been for hours, yet Satoru’s borderline paranoid insistence on you learning to defend yourself even while resting have led to a far less deep manner of slumber, and so you’re roused by the simple sound of the door opening and are made aware of this unwelcome visitor the moment they enter.

It’s all you can do to keep still, even out your breath. Your mind conjures thoughts of your guards slaughtered just beyond your door, your maids and your ladies-in-waiting massacred in your vast array of rooms meant to be a sanctuary, your king returning home from his diplomatic trip east to find your own body not even in your shared bed but in the lonely one occupying the queen’s bedchamber, yours in name but so rarely used.

You hear the figure’s footsteps approach you; they sound large, imposing, though you dare not open your eyes until the ornate dagger beneath your pillow is in hand and the possible assassin close enough that it can do you any good.

Your fingers find the heavy hilt, wrap around it securely just as the mattress beneath you dips with the weight of the trespasser. The motions are ingrained in your body from weeks of practice with your husband; you lash out, knife against the intruder’s throat before they can realize you’re not asleep, aiming to slash at the throat—but then you pause, thankful that you’d opened your eyes to see the face of your attacker before you spilled their blood.

“Satoru?”

Hardly an assassin at all, your visitor is your husband, back far earlier than anticipated. He looms over you in silence, one knee braced on your bed against your side, arms hovering where they’d been prepared to embrace you but frozen by the blade you hold against his neck. His damned blindfold remains tied over his eyes preventing you from knowing where they might be focused or what they might reveal of his thoughts.

“Wh—you’re not expected to return until tomorrow evening.” You remove the knife from his neck. Immediately, those hands are on you, tugging your covers away to pull you to him. “You frightened me, I believed you to be an intruder.”

Still no answer. For a moment, you feel him breathe you in, certainly allowing himself to bask in your presence after weeks without. But then, in one swift motion, wielding that stunning strength which has left armies in ruin, he slings you over his shoulder and starts for the door.

“What are you doing?” you shriek, squirming in his grasp. “Put me down!”

It wasn’t as if you thought he’d do it. But you at least expected a response; your king is nothing if not loquacious (and you hardly say so praisingly) yet he remains stubbornly silent even with your struggling form in hand as he passes through your doorway. Your guards stand alert just beyond your door, averting their gaze regretfully as if unwilling to meet your eye. You can hardly blame them, for it isn’t as if one can refuse a king—in fact, considering moments before you’d thought them dead by your assassin, you’re a little relieved to see them alive and well—yet the gesture feels too little too late.

“My king—husband,” you try, breathless, because reminding Satoru that you are bound to him for the rest of your lives never fails to make him preen, “what on earth has gotten into you?”

No avail. Not even so much as an arrogant laugh at stealing his own queen from her bed. You’re insulted at first; even your desperate attempts to free yourself don’t spark any form of response beyond a tightening of his arm around your waist. Insult gives way to concern the longer it goes, as he leaves your bedchamber and all but sprints through the intricate series of rooms which make up the queen’s chambers. The first time he passes by a room you know to be occupied by one of your ladies-in-waiting you decide that your valiant struggles aren’t worth rousing every maid and courtier you’ve allowed to take up residence with you. You’d rather they not see your husband’s indecent displays. This, at least, has occurred so late in the night that even if one were to open their door they’d likely be too groggy to understand what they might witness, and there is so little in the way of light that they might not even be able to see a thing.

At least your newfound resignation allows you to appreciate certain things your previous efforts had made you miss—you’re so enamored by his strength, his agility, and it’s admittedly thrilling that he’s so capable of manipulating your form with such ease. An inappropriate appreciation, certainly, but you’re coming to terms with how inappropriate everything about him is. And if you cannot allow yourself to enjoy how your usurper husband can steal you from your bed then you’re not altogether certain what the point of marrying him would have been.

He turns down the corridor leading to the door that connects to the king’s chambers and it suddenly seems to make sense: he’s bringing you back to his room, to his bed, where he’s insisted upon you spending your nights despite the absurdity of such a thing (not that you mind entirely, not that you aren’t flattered by his unabashed infatuation with you even all these months after you’ve wed). The room in which you’d slept during his absence had been used as more of a dressing room than one for rest, yet it had felt too odd to be sleeping in your king’s room without him present and had moved there after the first night. And you’d expected to be awake for his return, not for him to show up nearly a day early long before sunrise.

The mirrored halls, labyrinthine as your own, are empty; he hasn’t filled them as you have, not yet, though at times he receives visitors you recognize as his fellow conspirators from his coup. To an extent you appreciate the privacy it allows, and he remains so confident in his own abilities that he doesn’t bother excessively with guards. It’s hardly an undeserved confidence, either. His height is so towering that he’s forced to duck beneath the doorframe to his bedroom in order to ensure you don’t hit your head on the top. Once the threshold is crossed it’s as if his whole body breathes a sigh of relief; tense muscles relaxing, grip on you becoming less fervent and more adoring.

Satoru throws you to the bed with little ceremony. He spares a single moment to rip the blindfold from his face and toss it into some unknown corner of the room and then joins you hastily, hands upon you again in an instant, throwing the covers over the pair of you as he tangles his legs with yours, buries his face into your shoulder, and lets out the first noise you’ve heard from him in weeks—a sigh, sweet and self-satisfied, which rumbles in his chest and somehow reassures you.

The way he cradles you is halfway to suffocating, as if he were attempting to burrow into you simply to be closer, and between the silence and the manhandling you think you might have been terrified if not for how gently he carried you. It’s contradictory, certainly, yet despite snatching you from your bed with little regard for your wishes his hands had been so tender with you, as if you were some delicate thing to be handled with care. Even now you can feel he’s being cautious, deliberate with how much of his weight he puts on you and careful not to give you too much. You find yourself endeared by that, almost compelled to melt into him with the upwell of fondness that rushes through you and dizzies your mind.

Except that you’re still not willing to give him what he wants, not if he’s continuing to be so obstinate. You can’t find a reason for his stalwart lack of speech other than pettiness; it’s normally a trial of perseverance to get the man to silence himself. So you remain still beneath him, denying him his desires and refusing to return the embrace, rather choosing to lie limp as he holds you.

He groans in annoyance, lifting himself up to stare down at you yet still not verbalizing anything. His hair is long enough that it brushes against your face like this, mere inches away, and even in the imposing inky black of the enormous bedchamber beyond his eyes seem to catch on the most fleeting light and almost gleam from within.

One of his hands removes itself from where it was shoved beneath your back to find your wrist and drop your own on the back of his head. You let it fall, raising one eyebrow in simultaneous question and challenge that you can only hope he can see as clearly as you can see the exasperation in his eye—along with something else, something notably more desperate. Feral.

You don’t censor yourself despite that, pushing forward to explain yourself. “You’re grown, my king. You can speak rather than silently demanding things of me.”

Satoru’s eyes are drawn to your moving lips, the ice within them thawing and giving way to easy veneration. His lower lip pouts. His head falls back down and he nuzzles into you as his hold on you tightens.

“Embrace me,” he orders, muffled against your throat. It’s sullen, demanding, and you make no move to comply.

Your husband whines wordlessly at you—it’s that noise which calms the tumultuous unease within you, an assurance that whatever mood he’d been in is quickly passing (or that your touch is so important he’ll cast aside any other thoughts in favor of pleading with you). He kisses up your throat, along your jaw, only to nose against your cheek like some affectionate cat. When he speaks it’s a beg; beseeching. “Embrace me, wife.”

“Talk to me, husband,” you retort. “Your sulking is bad for my health. I was terrified.”

Against your skin, his lips quirk into a teasing smile. “You’re adorable when you’re terrified.”

“I nearly slit your throat.”

“With the knife I gifted you.” The words are crooned, a bit covetous; you wonder sometimes, when he says such things in such ways, about his sanity. You don’t think the phrase madly in love has applied to anyone more than him, though you might be just as deranged as he for how you adore it. “I wouldn't have let you, though. It’s sweet of you to worry,” his hands tighten swiftly where they rest against your skin, pinching hard enough to make you jump before releasing, ��but you’re still no match for me.”

“No?”

“No.” He kisses you without pulling away, lips brushing past your cheek to press passionately against yours. “Though I’d very much like to see you try.”

You speak your response into his mouth, refusing his silent attempts to deepen the kiss. “You haven’t yet apologized for frightening me.”

Huffing at you, he removes his arms from your body and pushes himself up to hover over you again. He stays like that, staring intently as if simply watching you will suffice for what you’re demanding. You let him at first—then as the seconds pass grow tired of waiting, and open your mouth to pester him again only to be silenced by his own.

It’s fast, there and then gone, too quick for you to respond. He so likes those kisses, a perfect way to keep you quiet, but tonight he isn’t satisfied with it; he does it again when you inhale, then once more afterwards though you haven’t even indicated any further intent to speak. And then he moves on, pressing lips to your nose and your cheekbones and your forehead, dotting them across the bridge of your nose and along your jaw, featherlight and relentless.

He refuses to let up, covering your face with kisses as if to make up for each one he’d have given you if he’d been here. You attempt to dodge, out of sheer obstinacy, but he doesn’t allow you to. So you change course, lift your hands to embrace him as he’d begged you before—yet he catches you, using a single grip to pin both above you as his ministrations expand and he presses kisses to your neck, down your throat, along your collarbone.

“Imagine you’re me, hmm?” he murmurs, words barely comprehensible through his affections. “Lamenting after weeks without your company, rushing home faster than my party simply to see you sooner, arriving to my chambers expecting to find my darling wife awaiting my return”—he pulls up suddenly, heedless to your discontented whimper at the loss of his touch which peeters off the moment you see the way he’s looking at you; that feral tinge has returned to his eye, infused into the soft devotion he always regards you with—”only to find my bed empty, my exquisite queen missing. How might you feel, do you suppose?”

He's always been loose with his compliments but something about the way he says them now, so matter-of-factly and laced with a seriousness so uncharacteristic of him rather than a teasing tone, makes your face burn. Still you respond, unwilling to let the question stand unanswered. “Ah… concerned, I’d imagine.”

“Concerned?”

“Distressed. Fearful of misdeed.”

“You frightened me, too, then, did you not?”

“I apologize. You weren’t supposed to be back tonight, I hadn't thought there was any harm in it. But I'm safe, and I'm here with you now.”

He blinks. For a moment you wonder if he’ll really apologize now—a foolish thought, you know your king better than that. Instead he pushes on. “Now consider that you leave your chambers, and you demand to know where she is, only to be told that she has refused to sleep in your bed and has instead insisted upon taking residence in an entirely different room. What then? Tell me, my love, what is so wrong with this bed?”

You swallow thickly, watch his eyes dart down to the bob of your throat before returning. He lifts an eyebrow in expectation, but your mouth is so dry you can’t find it within you to say what he wants to hear. Both wrists still held in his grip, he rubs his thumb against one, quietly contemplative as he scans your face—and this, you decide, is too much. You turn away, hiding your face, unable to take the way he peers at you.

“Why do you still pull away?” It’s barely audible. In fact you wonder if the question is meant for you at all, or if it had been entirely for him. His free hand comes to your face, gentle as it cradles your cheek and turns you towards him, forcing you to meet his stare. This time his words are undoubtedly for you. “Have I… misinterpreted? Is this truly too much? You say it is, call me too bold, but you never insist upon it. You seem happy and yet the moment you have time away from me you run, behind my back. You know I would do anything for you, yes? Even… let you go? If that is what you want.”

You can’t find the words to reply right away, can’t parse it all out within you fast enough. You realize quite suddenly that you’ve been unfair—selfish, even—in your passing acceptance of his pursuits. Simply because that has been easy, simply because it would be difficult to be even a fraction as bold as he. Simply because you do like his boldness, and you do like the way he chases you, and he does it so relentlessly that you’ve never found it necessary for you to return it. You’d have to retrain yourself to speak candidly, to reach out for his touch, and even behind closed doors such things are arduous. Yet now you see it—now he lets you see it, the chip in his armor, the one you’ve caused with your avoidance, the one you have the ability to mend. And you decide that you will.

The time that it takes to think all of that through, however, is too much. Satoru pulls back; his hand releases yours, his head turns away, his eyes no longer visible. It’s panic that makes you move, panic caused by the way his body turns to remove itself from you. In all the time you’ve spent with him since the coup he’s never pulled away like this.

You hook your leg over him, yanking him back down and clumsily swapping your positions. He lays in bed now, eyes wide with surprise as he stares up at you, and you straddle him with hands bracing yourself on his chest. The kiss you give him is an attempt to find peace of mind but it hardly works—too desperate to prove him wrong with your actions, too caught up in the sensations, your mind fogs. At least he kisses back, hands finding home on your thighs and pulling you close as he melts, though that’s perhaps part of the problem.

The words still don’t come when you pull away, and the way he regards you now is even worse than before, pure exaltation in his eyes as he looks up at you. On impulse you lean in again, brushing lips to that white scar bisecting his brow, and though his eyes flutter closed with the motion it doesn’t help the way you’re feeling in the slightest—a little restless, a little undone, far too seen for comfort. You bury your head into his shoulder in an attempt to quell it, feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath yours as he turns his face into you and breathes you in.

“It was too large,” you manage to say, small and quiet.

“Hm?”

“The bed. It’s too large when you’re not here. Cold. Empty.” You squeeze your eyes shut tight. His hand comes up to your head, stroking softly there, and of everything that seems to finally help. shoving your head even further into his neck, you say even quieter, “I miss you, husband, when you’re gone. I miss you so terribly it becomes difficult to bear.”

His laugh rumbles through you. It’s assured, arrogant, just like always—it melts away the lingering remains of that unease you’re still sifting through and allows you to finally relax on top of him, easing your legs down to lay tucked into the crook of his arm while he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Then I’ll just have to remain here for your sake, wife.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

So who in AEIWAM has an impulse/drunk tattoo (or similar equivalent)?

It's not who you think it is.

Shuuhei's "69" tattoo was meticulously planned and done stone-cold sober, as was Renji's black work body tattoos.

Kensei got drunk several times while planning out his tattoo to comemerating his service in the sixth and ninth divisions but you can hardly call something he agonized about font choices over for three months an "impulse" decision.

Rangiku has gotten drunk and done a lot of impulsive things but she HATES needles so she's never gotten a tattoo.

Tetsuzaimon Iba has an enormous full-color almost yakuza-style tattoo across his entire back dedicated to his beloved childhood kitty. It's both a masterwork of art and totally ridiculous.

If asked and he is in a loquacious mood or wants to terrorize the clan again, Byakuya will tell you he has gotten SEVERAL tattoos. This is because Byakuya is slightly confused about what a tattoo actually is, and thinks that any ink drawing upon the skin is a tattoo, and is counting all the times he's let Yachiru doodle on him in sharpie. They're semi-permanent, adding to the confusion for him, but he's never had truly permanent work done. He's not actually aware that's an option. He thinks Renji re-draws his eyebrows every morning, and is impressed with his dedication to the aesthetic.

Zaraki Kenpachi has a number of tattoos but they're so old and faded they're almost impossible to see unless you're looking for them. He got them when he was still living with his eagle family- aware that her son was a Primate, She Who Rules The Sky would take him down to one of the local tribal villages in summer so he could learn how to speak and eat vegetables. This was well before the taboos against tattooing come to living world Japan, and he had parts of his hands and arms marked with small symbols to denote the tribe he lived with part time, and that he was a son of a Kami, so other people in the area knew he was going to be a weirdo and where to return his lost ass to. Sort of an ID he couldn't lose. He tried to have them renewed a few years ago, because he is still close with the village, but he has trouble controlling hisreiatsu enough to let the needle through his skin, and that, more than anything has motivated him to actually learn some spiritual control.

Yamamoto and Gin both have tattoos they got in the midst of romantic furor, that they have since somewhat come to regret. Yamamoto has a camelia on his ass, and Gin has Rangiku's name on his lower back. Both were (mostly) thought out at the time. Kisuke Urahara has a cat's paw print on his hip, but that relationship seems to be going strong at least.

The person who got hammered and woke up with a tattoo he has no recollection of getting is straight-laced lieutenant commander Chojiro Sasikibe, who had a GREAT time at the Seireitei Flower Festival one year and woke up two days later in west 34 with a little tattoo of a butterfly on his ankle labelled "November, 2043" which was really weird, given that the year was currently 1476.

[sonder-paradise]

Hihi! May i request headcannons for childe and thoma (separately) with a black cat type s/o? Like reader dosent talk much and expresses their feelings through physical touch/gifts

◊ ft. childe, thoma, gn!reader

◊ genre. hcs, fluff

— 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐚 "𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞"

Childe certainly doesn't mind you're cat-like nature. Even anything he certainly finds it endearing. He's always been a cat person after all.

He's always enjoyed coming back in the afternoons to you napping in the sun. You'll greet him with tired looking eyes and though you'll maybe mumble something through dry lips, he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Were you waiting for me?"

You make a sound of agreement, motioning to the fried fish (not me finding out childe apparently likes eating raw fish) on the table in front of you.

Gifts and presents are things Childe finds often around the house. whether or not you're aware you give him so many things, he's not use but he enjoys it regardless.

He has an obsession with caressing your hair or petting you like a cat though. the way you sink into his embrace is absolutely heart-throbbing.

When he returns later in the evenings, greeting by the scent of your shampoo and the softness of your touch, he's enveloped with a sense of devotion.

He smiles softly, laying down besides you while you curl up besides him just like a cat.

"How was your day today?" you murmur in the darkness, holding your frame to his.

"Could have been better," he replies, reaching up to cusp the side of your cheek. You just chuckle, leaning into his touch and allowing him this brief rest and relaxation.

— 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚

He finds your antics to be amusing and becoming at the very least. The way you never seem to agree with him about particular things or the fierce gaze in your eyes when he smiles brightly at you.

The two of you are just a sweet golden pup and his black cat lover. He's obsessed with grabbing you from behind and burying his face in the back of your neck while you squirm and struggle out of his grasp.

You submit to his affections on the days you can't seem to sleep. He has sort of a soft spot to the moments when you'll sleepily cling to him while he's still working on paperwork for the Commissioner.

"Don't you want to lay down, Darling?"

You shake your head, burying yourself further into his chest while he strokes the back of your head. Your eyes barely keeping themselves active enough when he chuckles and the deep tone vibrates against his chest and into yours.

He keeps track of all the little odd trinkets you give him as well. Even when he expresses all his love and adoration through his loquacious words, he loves when you simply take his hand in your own while perusing through the stalls in Inazuma.

"You work too much," you sigh, grasping Thoma's face in between your hands.

He flashes you that charming smile of his and you can feel your soul become rejuvenated once more.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

You frown, clearly wanting to say something in reply to him, but as per usual nothing comes out. Thoma simply laughs, nodding gently as if reading your mind.

"I'll come to bed in just a moment."

Taglist: @xo-cuteplosion-xo @planetxiao @nonsense-corner @ireallylikehamsters @eccedentesiast-sapphic @rebeccka @the-lost-anime-dad @lettucecabbage-kun @irethepotato @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ajaxstar @plinkuro @shizunxie @kiraisastay @lilia-sspouse @straymoon96 @coquettemaiden @leweird @ash-astrophel @uchihaeirin @lemontum @willburzone @rocambolescomargot @aestellia @fpyura @cerisearan @rosemary108233 @abvolat @thenightsflower @sammybeefangirls @wonpielle @scara-alzwari @xiaosonlybeloved

[theheraldsrest]

MASTERLIST

Rules

Wills and Wonts

(TBA) DA Companions

(TBA) DA2 Companions:

-Gruff Reader confesses crush to Varric

DAI Companions and Advisors:

-Compliments Before/After Romancing

-(Romanced) Cullen, Blackwall, or The Iron Bull seeing The Inquisitor come back after a long journey

-Companions receiving/giving gifts

-(Romanced) Companions being asked to hold something for Inquisitor, then the Inquisitor holds their hand

-(CONTINUED)Non-romanced Companions being asked to hold something for the Inquisitor, then the Inquisitor holds their hand

-Companions reacting to Inquisitor jumping off the balcony at Skyhold

-Companions in a snowball fight

-Varric, Cullen and Solas comforting Lavellan!Inquisitor after they wake in a panic from nightmares

-Companions reacting to an Inquisitor who touches very casually

-Inquisitor bringing back a dragon egg and claiming it as their own child

-Companions (+Scout Harding and Varric) when they realized they were in love

-(Romanced) Companions reacting to Asexual Inquisitor

-Companions asked to watch over your drink

-(Romanced) Companions with a Flirtatious Inquisitor (booty grabs)

-Companions react to a Blind Inquisitor

-(Romanced) Companions proposing to the Inquisitor

-Companions reacting to an Inquisitor who covers their burn marks

-(Romanced) Companions walking in on the Inquisitor changing

-(Platonic and Romanced) Companions (+ Varric) reacting to an exhausted Inquisitor falling asleep

-Companions reacting to Sub-Human Species

-(Platonic and Romanced) Companions reacting to Female!Inquisitor saying she's pregnant

-(Romanced) Companions react to Inquisitor's awkward flirting attempts

-Companions (Romanced Dorian) react to the Male!Inquisitor adopting a child

-Companions reacting to Inquisitor's trained mounts

-(Romanced) Companions react to a drunk Inquisitor celebrating their victory against a dragon

-Companions (+Scout Harding and Krem) react to a rubix cube

-(Platonic and Romanced) Companions reacting to a very loquacious Elf!Inquisitor being silenced

-Companions react to the Inquisitor flying

-Companions react to Teen!Inquisitor

-(Romanced) Companions switching bodies with Inquisitor

-Companions react to Inquisitor losing their arm

-Companions being Competent, Badass, or Admirable

-(Romanced) Companions reacting to the Inquisitor's death

-Companions react to Inquisitor hiding their newest injuries

-Companions react to Mute/Deaf!Inquisitor

-Companions react to Mage!Lavellan!Inquisitor coming out as Trans(Male)

-Companions reacting to sick Mage!Trevelyan!Inquisitor

-(Romanced) Companions reacting to Secret Baby Nug/Mabari Pup

-Companions react to Inquisitor dating Yvette (Josephine’s Sister)

-Companions (+Romanced) reacting to Inquisitor turned into a cat

-(Romanced) Companions react to Inquisitor walking in on Companions Changing

-Companions react to Inquisitor drawing/sketching them

Headcanons:

-Josephine and Fem!Lavellan Headcanons

-Josephine romance with Genderfluid/Non-Binary Inquisitor Headcanons

-Krem Romance Headcanons

Companion Conversations:

-Sera and Dorian are friends

-Mass Effect: Inquisition

NSFW (18+, MINORS DO NOT ENTER):

-NSFW Alphabet for Blackwall

-NSFW Alphabet for Varric

-NSFW Alphabet for Cullen

-NSFW Alphabet for Solas

-NSFW Alphabet for The Iron Bull

-(SLIGHT NSFW)(Romanced) Companions reacting to Inquisitor being extremely flirtatious and wanting some "alone time"

-(SLIGHT NSFW)(Romanced) Companions reacting to Chubby Inquisitor with their first time

-(SLIGHT NSFW)(Romanced) Bull, Cullen, Blackwall and Dorian reacting to Inquisitor flirting

Other:

-Lex and Cabot Inquisitor Introductions

-The Inquisition was your family

-Solas is an Egg

-Cabot questions (Leliana)

-Solas Holmes

-No one likes the The Royal Court

-What goes through Lex's head when writing NSFW

-Lex answering asks

-Cole appreciation post

-Predictions for DA4

-Lex regretting the blog

-Lex remembers we have a blog

-Lex remembers we have a blog Part 2

-Lex remembers we have a blog Part 3, electric boogaloo

[maskaphiliax]

Here’s a Loquacious Cat flag. Not sure what it’s purpose is, but it’s here.

[iridescentmothgirl]

AXO: Now meet the gang of interdimensional criminals and nightmares I call my friends. Lord English! Orgalorg! The being whose name must never be said! Haha, what the heck. It's Bracken. Then, of course, there's also Scalene, Euclid, Skeleton Key, Loquacious Cat, Hue, Time Baby and these guys. This is our town now, boys!

[loquaciouscat]

she wants to know, if she can pat the loquacious cat.

WAAAAAAA OF COURSE SHE CAN

One thing he likes the most is the pets

[fishysplayhouse]

I should probably explain my theory on how Headspace Resets connect to artificial selection!

According to google, artificial selection is "the identification by humans of desirable traits in plants and animals, and the steps taken to enhance and perpetuate those traits in future generations." While thinking about the game's canon lore from a simpler point of view, this might be harder to understand or think about. If you look at Sunny's Headspace through a biological point of view you might see the connections clearer. Traveling through Deeper Well, you'll encounter many unfamiliar creatures each with different direct callouts to the Dreamer and his repressive tendencies. One of these creatures, Blank, says "Your memories are not free. To gain a

memory, another must be shrouded." When humans artificially select a plant, animal, or some kind of organism, it's to perfect it and bury it's former self into the past. Although this is a bit of a stretch, it's only one interpretation.

A second observation made is the many resets of Headspace and/or Dreamworld. Deeper Well was a place mostly pushed back and forgotten by Sunny, but other locations like the Abyss, the Dungeon in Sweetheart's castle, and many Blackspace Areas/Rooms have evidence of how Resets affect the current Headspace we know now.

In the Abyss and the Dungeon, four skeletons resembling the party can be found. One skeleton wears Aubrey's bow so it can only be assumed that that is her. These skeletons are likely the friends who have perished in previous adventures, and every time they died they were left forgotten and replaced by better and stronger versions of themselves.

(I could go ON AND ON about Blackspace for days but for simplicity purposes I'll choose two areas for this) Blackspace Areas like Disco Area and Reef Area both places with qualities of resets/loops. Disco Area is similar in apperance to Neighbor's Room; both having large and colorful yet mysterious cats and bright colors. Most memories regarding the truth, or simply just things not good enough, or too ridiculous are thrown into Blackspace which is the deepest part of Sunny's mind. Disco Area is likely Sunny's first attempt after the incident at creating a place of peace like Neighbor's Room. Though, it clearly failed. (This part of the theory was inspired by something else someone had said about Disco Area and Loquacious Cat being an earlier generation of Neighbor's Room. I wish I could credit that person but I forgot the account >_<)

According to the Omori Fandom Wiki for Reef Area, it is said that "In the game's files, the faceless characters are referred as MANNEQUINS, implying that these versions are a product of BLACK SPACE or remnants from OMORI's previous adventures before resetting HEADSPACE multiple times." Another thing mentioned in the trivia section is "As the heads that are stuck in the walls are the only version of the HEADSPACE friends in the area to have eyes and appear to be asleep, it can be inferred that the REEF AREA is the place where new bodies for the HEADSPACE friends are mass produced in case of an event in which they all die." Through speculation it can be inferred that every version of the Dreamworld friendgroup are "produced" in some kind of unnatural way.

In conclusion, the way Sunny's Headspace works is very fantastic in a strange sense. Omori, or Sunny's consious/imagination is so strong that it can repurpose, enhance, and saturate people, places, and objects to even better and more useful versions of themselves. His will to erase anything relating to Mari's death and the truth is so strong that all of these events have taken place, and Omori selects things for their most perfect traits.

This is just a silly little theory though, and i'd like to here your thoughts, opinions, or additions to this! I hope this helps you when you learn about artificial and natural selection in biology class :D

[This is from 2023 and I posted it on my instagram originally! I know this analysis may have flaws but its nice to compare my biggest hyperfixation and my favorite childhood interest together.]

[kriegertops]

Hi mom and dad- it’s Sophia. Long time no chat. You can call me by my new nickname- Riley. It’s the main character in Inside out- my friends started calling me that bc my current emotional IQ resembles that of a tween. Ah, I guess you too saw my IG stories last weekend. Ugh- YES I KNOW! I was completely out of line and unhinged. Yes, I did directly threaten someone. And also yes, I called other women cunts. But they all so deserve it! You should see the hate Ash and I still get online! It’s out of control. And it’s all over- like on every platform. Why don’t people want to see us together? It’s all so undeserved. I mean, no, I’m not that surprised ppl aren’t buying our new spin. The PR team had an idea, and we had it all worked out- I would admit I asked Ash out first, even tho we totally hooked up over the summer, in the hopes that she wouldn’t get so much hate. Wait, what? You don’t think it’s believable either? What else can I do? I’m running out of people to blame! I might have to write another completely self serving, over the top loquacious magazine article to really set the record straight. I just wish people would leave us in peace. We have a few keyboard warriors out there working for us! This crazy girl Emily defends us like it’s her job. She’s got a bunch of burner accounts, so it seems like there’s a lot more support than there really is. Okay, but I have to ask- did you see our fabulous lewks at the Olympics! We wore these amazing matching metallics! WHAT?? How could you say that? Ashlyn did NOT look like Patrick Swayze in drag! Or the crazy cat woman in NY. Or Carson Palmer! Where are you getting this? We looked amazing- this super random fashion site called us best dressed! Okay, now you’re talking crazy. I am NOT ruining my reputation for this (mostly) unemployed, divorced, fame whore with two small children. She is completely worth it! You’ll see. She’s got some secret projects she’s working on, and soon everyone will see her mediocrity with their own eyes!! Okay, gotta zip- we’re stocking up on bowling shirts with crass phrases on them- BYE!!

Anon thank you for always making my day with these posts😂😂😂

[goblin-iz-whack]

Gobbledygibb the Mayor Cat

Loquacious, Fulfilled, Efficient

Once upon a time, a town was disappointed with their mayoral options. So, someone entered their cat into the ballot as a joke. Well, said cat won by a landslide.

The town loves Gobbledygibb, she never raises taxes, and Gobbledygibb loves her town and her job, which she takes very seriously.

@storyweaverofgondor