#p: eugene

[funeral]

Eugene Thacker, Infinite Resignation

[serafiel-jacobs]

And this is why Pulcinella is the only one allowed to make tea at the hotel.

[seashoreshell]

not a super duper amazing eugavus promt but KISSES KISSES KISSES ! Especially the passionate kind! We are lacking SO HARD in that area art wise right now..

A quick kiss meme!

[j-saying]

Share to keep her memory alive

This is Ruth, a 16 years old teenager with physical and intellectual disability. Like many in her age, she liked to dance and meet new friends. Her dad, Arik, took her to parties and raves.

In the picture: Ruth and her dad in a rave.

They were at the Nova festival during the Black Saturday of 07/10.

When the shooting started, Arik took Ruth in his arms, leaving behind her wheelchair, and ran for their lives. He refused to leave her behind.

The wheelchair was found burnt about a week ago, but there was no sign of Ruth and Arik.

We prayed for good news. For them to be found - wounded, kidnapped, but alive.

I got the news last night.

Their bodies were identified yesterday. They were buried today.

And I'm asking - you say it was done for freedom.

Yes, I remember the last time people with disabilities died for "freedom"

(somehow, we are never part of it)

[tickle-bugs]

if you have any interest in writing for tangled, i'm jonesing for some lee flynn. maybe something along the lines of "flynn rider doesn't giggle/snort, but eugene fitzherbert does?" (you can use the quote or just the idea, or ignore this entirely! it's a free country)

@ssnicker-doodless pspspsps <3 I had so much fun writing this thank you for this cute-ass prompt!!!!

Sunbeams and Revelations

Literally insert this directly after Rapunzel heals Eugene for the first time. In my head this is like if they spent an extra day or two camping and bonding before Mother Gothel and the Stabbington bros find them. 

Flynn is in trouble. 

He’d given Rapunzel an inch by telling her his real name and she’d taken the mile--she’d cozied up to him with an apparently deep-seated need to…be nice to him. More than nice, actually. She begs him to tell tales of his escapades and his past, and she doesn’t seem disappointed that it’s Eugene doing these things. Not Flynn. He’s spent so long trying to bury Eugene Fitzherbert that he doesn’t know what to do with him, himself, around her.

He is, naturally, taking this out on the apple tree that’s been watching over them for the past day or so. It’s a gorgeous old tree, marred with arrow holes and left-over pieces of parchment from long-lost wanted posters. A plethora of slow-rotting apples grace its roots, decaying into their place in the cycle. He’s bullied this tree for firewood, used it to throw darts at his old wanted poster--he’s even used it to practice asking Rapunzel if she wants to maybe stick around after seeing the lanterns together. Tree-punzel is very receptive to the idea of traveling the world together. It doesn’t do much for his confidence with the real Rapunzel. 

Flynn runs, leaps, and grabs onto one of the tree branches. He hooks his forearm over it, then his leg and pulls himself up. It sparks a rush in him, the unyielding childish glee at being up high that makes him still want to run across castle rooftops and scale smooth-faced towers. 

“Eugene? Whatcha doin’?” Rapunzel looks up from her brushing. 

“Just--hng--trying to score us some food for the road.” Flynn shakes the branch with every atom of his being. Apples thud to the ground all around him, bright and shiny. 

“That’s a neat trick.” 

“There was an apple tree outside the orphanage. I used to shake us down some food when they’d forget to feed us.” Flynn swings to stand on the bough he’s hanging from. It creaks under his weight. He jumps on it a bit, scoring a few more apples, but one gorgeous, shiny straggler taunts him from the very edge of the branch.

He jumps again, harder this time, and his foot gives out from under him. He and Rapunzel scream at the same time--and regrettably, the same pitch. His foot catches on the branch at the last minute. He tries to swing and get free, but he’s wedged in. 

“Are you okay?” Rapunzel’s concerned upside-down face appears before him. He slides a little further off the branch and she grabs him by the waist to catch him. He yelps and flails, which makes him slip more. Her fingers press in as she tries to support his weight. He giggles and a snort stumbles out after. 

“Y-Yes! I’m fine!” Flynn manages to flip off the branch and fall into an embarrassing heap. He wants to snark at her for not caring about his safety now that he’s fallen, but she’s got a terrifying amount of mischief in her eyes.  

“Did you just giggle? Are you ticklish?” She gasps happily. 

“I’m not…It didn’t…Punzie--” He backs away from her, hands raised in surrender. 

“Punzie? Oh, it must be really bad.” She laughs in delight. Her brilliant smile distracts him long enough for her to try and tickle him again. 

“Rapunzel--” He corrects, snatching her evil hands-- “Flynn Rider doesn’t giggle, okay? Drop it.”

“Oh, okay. I see. My mistake. Obviously the great Flynn Rider would never.” She gives a dramatic, sweeping bow. He sniffs in offense and turns on his heel. 

“Yes, exactly. You get it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to make sure we don’t starve.” He takes a loop of her hair and ties it tightly around his waist. He snatches up their basket--woefully empty--and, after petulantly picking up the apples that he’d knocked down, scurries up the trunk of the tree. 

“You’re running away!” She calls after him. He sticks his tongue out at her and keeps climbing. He gets to the higher branches and starts plucking apples. He takes the best ones he can find and works his way down.

In a knothole of the tree, a squirrel peeks curiously at him. He outstretches his hand so it can sniff it. It puts its tiny little paws on his finger and gazes up at him sweetly. Flynn grins--about time he had an animal companion that actually likes him. 

“Hey, little fella--” 

The accursed creature dives into his doublet. 

Flynn screams again, a flurry of wild giggles bursting out of him as he tries to grab the furry lump zipping around his shirt. He tries to unhook the clasps of his doublet but he loses his balance, toppling over the branch. The squirrel scampers away from the scene of the crime without a care in the world, leaving Flynn once again dangling face-to-face with a very smug Rapunzel. 

“Firstly, ow. Secondly, that was a giggle.” She puts her hands on her hips. He scoffs at her, but it doesn’t carry much weight--he’s spinning around like a lame piñata. He quickly frees himself from her hair and helps her pull it down off the branch. 

“No, that was a…manly…chortle.” He winces, then barrels on before Rapunzel can drown him out. “What will it take for you to drop this? Name your price.”

“Anything?” She bounces on her toes. 

“Anything.”

“Let me hear your laugh. Your real one. Not that weird, practiced one you do--” She pinches his arm. He scoffs. 

“I don’t practice--” She clamps a hand over his mouth. He rolls his eyes and submits. 

“I want to hear what Eugene sounds like. Not Flynn. I promise I’ll leave you alone after.” She pulls her hand away and gestures for him to speak. He straightens out his doublet, his hair, and regards her for a moment. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Blondie.” Flynn huffs. He wants to whine about his reputation, but Rapunzel looks at him so earnestly, like this is something that matters, and he simply sighs instead.

“Fine. But only for a minute--” He tries to be stern, but she leaps into his arms for a hug and he immediately loses his edge. 

“It’s not--you don’t have to make it a thing,” he mumbles, carding his hand through her hair. He catches himself and pulls away. She gives him a fond squeeze. 

“Of course it’s a thing. You’re letting me do this.” Rapunzel beams. 

“Only for, like, a few seconds. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Flynn flaps a dismissive hand to distract from his rapidly-flushing face. 

“Ah-ah, I was promised a full minute.” She poises her hands like claws, ready to strike. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” He swallows thickly, eyes trained on her hands. 

With a triumphant cry, Rapunzel launches herself at him. She scrambles up onto his back and locks her legs around him like a creature. In any other scenario, he’d barely even notice the weight on his back, but she’s poking him truly anywhere she can reach. Flynn wants to tease her for the poke he receives to the back of his head, but then the pokes gravitate towards his torso and he chokes on his words. 

He tries to strike a balance between fending Rapunzel off and making sure she doesn’t fall, but she’s clinging to him with no issue and he’s very much struggling. 

Flynn’s valiant in his effort to resist her, noble and unmoving—that is, until she finally gets her hands past his defenses and latches onto his stomach. He yelps and doubles over, shaking with snickers. She slips her hands under his doublet and coaxes sustained, embarrassingly bubbly giggles from him. It’s a sound foreign to his own ear.

His last memory of this is childhood, when the younger boys would dogpile him and try to bully him into one more story before bed. Even then, it’s a distant thing. Nothing like the vibrant pops of color and sparks currently driving him just a little insane. 

“I could’ve just done this when you broke into my tower,” Rapunzel muses, nestling her fingers into his sides. Flynn shrieks his way into full laughter. He tries to muffle himself, but she just tickles his ears until he slaps his hands over them instead. 

“I p-preferred the frying pan!” He squeaks, gasping in a deep, giggly breath. He feels Rapunzel roll her eyes. She worms her hands under his arms and his whole glorious life flashes before his eyes. He makes a desperate noise, some ugly combination of a cackle and a snort, and resigns to hide his face and die. Rapunzel giggles at him, all sweet and genuine, and he just retreats further into his demise. 

His knees buckle and before he knows it, he’s on his back in the grass and Rapunzel’s kneeling next to him. The last bits of his laughter fade on the breeze. 

She tucks a daisy behind his ear. He allows it. 

“Promise me something, Eugene?” She smooths her hands over his chest. He reaches up to hold one of her hands. 

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll smile more?” She looks at him so sincerely that it hurts. 

“I’ll think about it.” He shrugs. She scowls at him and pokes relentlessly at his stomach. 

“O-Okay! I will, I promise!” He laughs and grabs her hands. She gives his a squeeze. 

He notices just how green her eyes are, as if the vibrant meadow bestowed its perfect hue upon her for safekeeping. She smiles like dawn breaking over the mountains. Without thinking, he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. His finger trails briefly against her rosy cheek.

Get it together, Fitzherbert. 

“It’s getting dark. I should—firewood.” Flynn clears his throat and stands. He helps her up. 

“Right. Of course. I’ll stay here and…apples.” She nods very seriously. An awkward, fond silence fills the space between the trees. The two of them stare at each other a little longer. 

“Eugene?” Rapunzel blinks at him. Atop her head, Pascal gestures fervently at him to kiss her.

“Going.” Flynn stumbles off towards the deeper woods, ignoring Pascal’s angry little squeaks. As soon as he’s out of potential view, he slumps against a tree and runs a hand over his face. 

Flynn Rider completely evacuates his post at the brain controls. Eugene wants him to stay—he could really use a suave one-liner or a good smolder right about now—but in truth, Flynn has no use here. Nothing is permanent for him. He runs from security, both literally and metaphorically. He’s got the same two moves, neither of which have ever worked on anyone important. 

Eugene Fitzherbert is the softie hyperventilating against a tree. He’s the one that’s considering actually staying in Corona for a day or so, just to take Rapunzel around the place. He’s the one that wants to spend the rest of his life laughing with her. He knows it with a certainty he’s never experienced. If he could pluck the sun from the sky for her, he would. He’d risk burning just to try. 

And it is Eugene, in all his giddy anxiety, that fails to see the witch lurking in the trees.

[kiwi-and-pasta-at-3am]

Rip Sigmund Freud

You would have loved Eugene "Doc" Roe and his memory lapses in a highly distressful situation

[yetanotheralien-heartemoji]

Magical girl… Ujean……………….. woag!

[m-sciuto]

Shazam Family Christmas

[compil]

LOVED HOW EUGENE CORDERO PLAYED CASEY. He wasn't given a ton of character-developing lines but he managed to pull off "amicable nerdy pencil pusher who memorizes work manuals" AND "abrasive Alcatraz escapee" perfectly. What a guy.

[blueflamepoisoning]

WOE. MAGNET REDRAW BE UPON YE

[jomarchswritingjacket]

i just think they’re neat

[funeral]

Eugene Thacker, "Misanthropos" in Wound of Wounds: An Ovation to Emil Cioran

[serafiel-jacobs]

[seriously-mike]

While watching a livestream of Lies of P. I got an idea for another less typical AI-generated image: a portrait of Pinocchio by 19th century French painter Eugene Delacroix.

What I got is more of a generic early 19th century painting, with less discernible brushwork (I think the negative prompt, even a cut-down one, is messing with it again), but the general concept is there. I had to inpaint the steampunk robot arm because I don't trust the data model to do it all in one take, and still tweaked it in Paint Shop Pro because the mostly good inpaint had slightly wonky fingers and one of the rejects had alright fingers but wasn't as brassy.

[anonymergremlin]

Okay okay.

So. I know if I was in LoP I would be a stalker with a silly Wolf mask and some daggers. They type of stalker who would be 50% badass... And 50% the puppets ping pong ball.

...

Who wants to become my stalker partner *awkward laugh*

[bandhyukoh]

240725 Oh Hyuk in Eugene Whang's ig story